#more or less happens when his dead big bro is mentioned

[flovverworks]

gonna ramble again n continue my mika talk so teehee gbf spoilers but itd be So easy to drop her n shitori into mhyk n i think about that sometimes. cuz loki n fenrir r trickier what with them teasing lokis place in astral society and fenrirs a primal beast n idk what to do w that, but mika majorly could just be copypaste more or less

[homocrafting]

turns out whatever instinct in me makes me want to make tma aus is unstoppable and all consuming. so here's qsmp tma au focused on the brazillians:

cellbit- he HAS to be the archivist ok this man is so eye aligned it's not even funny. HOWEVER because qcellbit and fcell are the same person, Events happened to him before he became the Archivist, ala from the archives grian. local paranormal enthusiast finds dead half eaten bodies, gets arrested for it (he SWEARS he didn't eat those people), goes to prison for 10 years, goes nuts (becomes F!Cell), kills himself in the island, wakes up in his room and Felps tells him "bro you disappeared for 10 days are you ok" and he's just like. What.

Worth mentioning that he fucking speedruns the archives. also known as the qsmp. Cucurucho, who is kind of like elias but a bit less (I inagine the Host would be elias, wjoever they are), thinks "wooo new archivist I wonder how long it'll take them to find out abt the horrors" and then cellbit shows up 3 days later running on 2 hours of sleep and 20 mugs of coffee with a consipracy board connecting a bunch of statements and theorizing about entities

ALSO the web is around him like all the time. if you pay attention there's at least 2 spiders near him at all times, usually hidden because he squishes them when he sees them. he's tangled in the web of lies that is the plot I'm making for this au and his ass is NOT beating it

Felps- Stranger type of guy who doesn't even know and takes like. a year to realise something's up with him. don't worry abt it ok I don't know why he's stranger-y to me either. it's the vibes just trust me

Mike- ok so. I am Very unsure for pac and mike, PLUS I've not seen herobrine a lenda, which means I don't know all their backstory, BUT I'm thinking Lonely for Mike, so far? he kind of distances himself from everyone after richas dies with him, so far is the only person I've not seen much gay happenings happen to, tends to disappear to fuckall nowhere apparently, as one does. also the fact that, back in prison, he seemed to have the most difficulty connecting with others.

also, the Desolation hates him personally. he doesn't know why. his house has burnt down thrice. he gets burnt by the littlest things for no reason. he's banned from the kitchen. an avatar of the desolation tried to kill him once. he watched his own son die in front of him. this is based on nothing from qsmp or anything I've seen Mike do I just think it's funny

Pac- I can only think of Vast and Spiral for him tee bee eich. Leaning heavily towards the Vast because, you know. gestures to the giant hide and seek maps, and also O RAIO, even though I have 0 context for that. he just... he explores the world and made giant hole (yeah yeah holes are the buried but consider: it's big.). it's his "I can show you the world" vibes. again dude just trust me

note abt tazercraft: both of them are very, very touched by the Spiral. reason? Chume Labs

Forever- I'm thinking either the Buried (mostly the digging aspect- he's destroyed a whole mountain and dug up and entire desert), or the Hunt (his intense hunt for Phil's love, the insane grinding that could be seen as hunting for resources, the werewolf hc my beloved). Leaning more towards the Hunt bc dogboyyyyy

The plot I have in mind is very different from the tma plot, but I'm not sure of everything yet, so for now you get this little bpnus :)

[CLICK]

[Cellbit]

We've been back from the Adoption Center for about a day now. Not a timely update, but things happened, and, well.

We found... we found a weird... creature. It- he? Acts human, although he can't talk. He communicates with us through a little notebook, and overall acts incredibly childish. He sure looks like a child. One with- with some material akin to... to egg shells as skin. He has hair, despite apparently being all... eggy. It's black and curly, covers his face. He doesn't like it when we try to move it away from there, but we're working on a safe way to see what's under there.

He seems not to know where he came from, but I know he's lying. It's- there's no way he doesn't, not with what he said, I don't care if Pac and Mike or, hell, Felps believes him, He called us fucking- he called us dads! That's the first fucking thing he said! It has to be some kind of trap, some kind of spy, I don't know yet but when I find out I'm going to fucking-

Shit. That wasn't too professional. Alright, where were we.

We brought him to the Institute. Forever and I weren't thrilled about the idea, but it was 3 against 2. I can't believe Felps would- I get Pac and Mike, there's something wrong with them I'm sure of it, but Felps? I underestimated his braincells. What am I talking about, he doesn't have any.

(Soft chuckle)

We, we named him Richarlyson, he seemed to like it. We asked his name first, but all he did was draw a- (Snort) a stick figure shrugging.

The only clothes he has are a singular oversized Brazil shirt. The moços and Felps want to go buy him clothes.

I don't know how they'll justify the kid having, I don't know, pure white hard skin, but they said not to worry about it, so I guess I won't! I won't. I fucking won't.

... I'm gonna follow them tomorrow. Just to be safe.

That's all for today, I'm gonna go- I'm going to check some statements, see if there's anything even remotely related to this.

This is Cellbit, Head Archivist of the QSMP, which I still don't known what stands for by the way, signing off.

[CLICK]

[goldenteaset]

If I may, why do you prefer Stampede and '98's versions of Wolfwood then?

Related to this ask! *Ponders this one too*

I fully admit that 99% of it is personal taste and interpretation, anon. XD; I just prefer Big Bro Nico (with the same overall guilty conscience), who stubbornly finds joy where he can even if in his heart he still hates Gunsmoke/No Man's Land, over metaphorical "well preserved dead guy" Nicholas the Punisher who seems to be frantic to escape the very manga he co-stars in.

'98!Wolfwood in particular has this, dare I say, "salt of the earth" feeling to him that I just really like a lot. He's the most Western feeling of the main cast, to me--giant cross aside, you could plop him down in something like The Magnificent Seven and he'd feel right at home. He's not a total "white hat" paragon of justice, but he's not a nefarious "black hat" either. He's just a very human, flawed guy that'll swindle one man to help out another over the same chess game, and be mostly telling the truth when he says it was just for his own benefit. (This is part of why "Escape From Pain" is one of my favorite episodes, warts and all. :D)

Trimax!Wolfwood, meanwhile...I mentioned in that previous ask that he has "the soul of a '90s comic book character", but I wasn't sure how to explain that. Now I can: just like most of those characters (Animal Man by Grant Morrison for example), he feels like he just wants to hop on his Angelina II, crash through the ink and pages, and go literally anywhere else. Rereads haven't changed this feeling, either. I keep waiting for him to suddenly turn toward the panels and start shaking them like jail bars, yelling "Let me out, damn it!" He'd take the orphanage with him if he could, and that's a point in his favor.

But I've never known what to do with characters like that--if even they don't want to be here, why should I stick around to see what happens to them? By all means, Mr. Well Preserved Dead Guy, run away to a baseball manga or something! You'd clearly be happier there. ;_;

Stampede!Wolfwood is in this precarious position where he could go either way on my internal sliding scale, but as it stands? He's very good. More brasher and boyish than '98, he feels like he has a lot to learn in the best way possible. His arguments with Vash feel like ones he'd actually have and make under his specific (and yes, very melodramatic) circumstances. As a bonus, having his dynamic with Livio established this early helps a lot for getting us invested in them for the long-term*. Legato aside, they were actually why I finally watched Stampede. (Sorry Vash, I like you too. XD;)

...I hope this makes sense, anon? Tagging this will be interesting. ^^;

*It also helps Livio feel less like Wolfwood 2.0, and while on the whole I hypocritically do prefer his '90s flavor, I'd still rather he stand on his own.

[moemoemammon]

yay! requests are open! y'know that thing where the s/o being so weak for their partner? I wanted to request the demon bros being weak for their s/o? does that make sense?

like, for example, MC would pout a little, and say 'pwease 🥺' and the demon bros would be like, 'yes, go on, what do you want from me? would you like my-' they'd just be so weak for mc.

I hope that makes sense! also, if it's too much characters, you can just do mammon and satan :) thank you ;3

Their One Weakness: MC!

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

Lucifer is known as the cruel eldest of the brothers. A sadist whose word is law, whose will can only be bent by Lord Diavolo himself. And yet since you came to the Devildom, all you ever seemed to do was the opposite of what he asked. Yet he still came to love you. He wonders if he spoils you too much...

Especially when you always seem to get your way one way or another. When you proposed the chaotic idea of a massive get together between the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall, Lucifer immediately said no. It’d be way too noisy and he had things to do.

But THEN... You fixed him with those damn EYES of yours.... The big eyes filled with sparkles and hopes that pleaded to him.... stop staring at him with them big ol eyes-

Lucifer REFUSES to acknowledge how cute you are when you look at him like that. Well, verbally anyway. You look like a kicked puppy...and he loves puppies...

"............I suppose if we prepare right now and get a dinner menu ready, it could be possible. And if you pout any harder you might pull a muscle, and I doubt I could explain that to Lord Diavolo. Now, go tell the others what you have planned."

Mammon

Mammon is practically the biggest MC simp in the world. You always occupy his thoughts any time of the day. 'Oh, MC would probably like one of these'. 'MC's always eatin' this for lunch. I'll grab one.' 'This would be way less borin' if MC were around...'

But as the Tsundere 🤢 king of the Devildom, there's no way he'll admit to any of that! So what if he's head over heels for you?! That doesn't mean he's gonna be all weak in the knees the moment you-

Wait, you're saying that because he lost a bet yesterday and promised he'd take you out to Ristorante Six and pay for the whole thing, now he's gotta pay up?!?! No way! He doesn't remember what you're talking about, and that voice recording you've got on your phone is clearly fake!

Mammon's dead set on weaseling out of his promise, until you freeze him in place with your pouty face... then you hit him with a "please..?" and the Avatar of Greed swears he might die right then and there.

"Tch..! Damn it, I ain't got a choice when ya look at me like that!!! What're ya playin' at, pulling' my heartstrings like that?! Hurry up and get dressed so we can go! A-and ya better eat your fill, too!"

Levi

The founder of the top secret MC Cult Fanclub, there's not much that could keep Levi from becoming putty in your hands. He's used to idolizing the objects of his affection, and you're no exception!

So when it comes to bending to your will, he's definitely the easiest. Except when it comes to n-...normie stuff...

Seriously, do you think someone like HIM should be going to The Fall?!?! No way! Not in a million, billion, trillion years!!!! You shouldn't get him to go to that crowded club even if you dragged him there!!!

Then... you hit him with the cute act... You declare your loyalty to him as his beloved Henry, fixing him with a pleading look that shoots him straight through the heart, and... GAH, HE'S GOT NO CHOICE!!!!!

"At... at least help me choose something to wear..! I don't know how I'm supposed to dress for normie stuff like this!!! Aaah... I wanna stay home, b-but when you say something like that, I just can't win-!"

Satan

Satan openly admits to how he likes to spoil you. It's cute seeing how big your grin becomes when he gives you something you wanted, and how happy you are when he takes you out for the evening.

But there are some things even he doesn't want to do, like when you suggest going to a chess tournament with Lucifer. You've been pressured by Lucifer wanting to attend, but figured it'd be easier to sit through with someone else. So why not Satan, who'd mentioned liking chess?

Yeah... he'd go if Lucifer weren't involved. As much as he'd love to go and pull some strings to ruin the match for the dear eldest, he's got something else planned involving a well timed glue bomb and Lucifer's study. So he'll pass.

Or so he thought, until you started poking your fingers together and mentioned how you'd hoped you could both enjoy it together. Kind of like a date..? Gah, his heart and its weakness for unconventional dates-!!!!

"...I... suppose I could go. It’d be nice to study how Lucifer plays, so I can finally beat him. Don't you think the look on his face will be priceless? And if you're there as well, I'll be able to stomach watching his face for an hour."

Asmo

Asmo LOVES you more than aaanyone!! There's no one who loves you more, you know? Why, he wants to involve you in every aspect of his life, and actively tries to do just that! He's even tried dragging you into the tub with him a few times...

And when it comes to spoiling you, he loves it! He's always the one being spoiled, so it makes him giddy when he can give a little back. If there's anything you want from him, just tell him and he'll make it happen!

Eh? You want to play fangol? With HIM?? Um... pass. You know he just got his nails done, right? Asmo's not really a fan of running around with a ball and getting knocked to the ground, so... no thanks! ❤️

Wait, don't make that face! What're you looking so glum for?? He'll kiss your sadness away, and- Eh?! You don't want a kiss?? You really wanna play THAT badly?????

"....You really don't have me mistaken for Beel, right..? You really want to play with ME? ...Haaaah, fine! I'll play one game with you, and in exchange, you have to spend all of tomorrow with moi! Sounds good, right~? Now let me see if Satan will let me borrow some of his clothes...urgh..."

Beel

As a 'go with the flow' guy, there's not much Beel won't do with you, even if it's not really something he's interested in. As long as he has you around and a surplus of snacks, he's fine with anything.

Until you suggest going to Majolish to try on some stylish outfits. You mention how Beel wears variations of the same thing all the time, so it's time for an update! He thinks you're spending too much time with Asmo...

Beel isn't really into tight, itchy, stiff fabrics like the 'stylish' things they sell at Majolish, and decides he'd much rather go to Hell's Kitchen instead. He's hungry. Are you hungry?

'Stop changing the subject'? Ah.. damn it 😔 Wait, now you're saying you just wanted to buy fancy outfits because you were planning to take him to Ristorante Six?! You can't tell if he's blushing over your consideration or the idea of food, but now Beel's looking through the clothes with earnest.

"I didn't know you were the winner of that 'all you can eat' coupon lottery. When I didn't win I was pretty upset, but I'm glad to know it was you. Even if these clothes are weird, I'll wear them. Can you pick something good for me?"

Belphie

Belphie likes to spoil you in more subtle ways, instead of simping as hard as his brothers. He's still as much of a sucker for you as they are though, much to his dismay. All you have to do is smile and you've got him wrapped around your gross human finger.

But when you mention wanting to go biking with Lord Diavolo and wanting him to come along, Belphie suddenly discovers that his ears don't work anymore. Anyway, goodnight-

Hey, stop poking him like that. Can't you see an deaf man is trying to sleep here?? And what's with that face..? You're pouting so hard you look like you're going to explode. It's cute, but Belphie can close his eyes an not see it.

But then you scoot into bed with him and hold him from behind, and the sleepy demon starts feeling his resolve crumble. You have some dirty tactics, huh..? Getting all cozy with him just because he's got a soft spot for you...

"...............Why Diavolo of all people..? I'd prefer anyone over him. Ugh... Hey, they still rent out those two person bikes, don't they? I'll only go if I can ride on that with you. I'll sit right behind you and cheer you on, okay? ..What's with that look? I'm joking...maybe."

[thebeautyoffanfics]

Can I request Hanako (or Amane Yugi), Teru Minamoto, and Akane Aoi (the male) with a female s/o who is literally invisible to people. (This totally not based on events that actually happened to me-)

Like some people, even her close friends, won’t even notice she’s there and if she’s has to asks something she tends to repeat it or stutter. She also tends to get forgetting or lost on school trips, etc.

This has happened for as long as she could remember and she’s use to it by now but sometimes it still hurts when they forget her

Headcanons please!

hanako x f!reader, teru minamoto x f!reader, akane aoi x f!reader

a/n: sure thing!! I feel like Hanako would understand that as a ghost, so I think I’ll write for him in his ghosty form! I hope that’s alright :)) thank you so much for requesting, and I hope these turn out alright!!

I’m really sorry if these are shorter or poorer than normal, and if they’re formatted strangely- I’m doing my best to get requests done on my phone (´ε｀”)

warnings: none?

word count: 1,414

Hanako <3

He understands, he understands more than anyone- so he thinks. I mean, he’s a ghost. He literally cannot be seen by anyone who isn’t an exorcist, near death, a fellow supernatural, or bound to him in some way.

Still… honestly, he gets pretty defensive over you-

They can’t hear him, but you can. (They can’t hear you, but he certainly can.) It’s honestly somewhat humorous, Hanako standing behind you, shouting that they’d better listen up!!

“IF YOU GUYS MAKE (Y/N) REPEAT HERSELF ONE MORE TIME?? Are they deaf, (Y/N)?? I think they’re deaf?????”

His reactions like that are half-joking-half-serious. He’s genuinely upset that they treat you like that- but he hopes that all his ranting and going on helps you to feel better somehow?

He can’t exactly follow you on trips, but! He makes Yashiro “Honorary (Y/N) Defense”! Meaning, since he can’t, she’ll defend you in his place!

You get interrupted or ignored? Hanako tells Yashiro to help you out, and (though she would any way) she’s raising her hand somewhat shyly- explaining that you were trying to talk.

Getting left behind on a field trip? Yashiro is sticking by your side! She turns around constantly, making sure that you keep up with her, and especially making sure that you get on the bus with the rest! As per Hanako’s request, and her own care for you, she’ll let you sit next to her.

Hanako is always very talkative, but he’s still very patient with you- he loves to have conversations with you, which is a big reason he doesn’t get why they treat you like that. You’re such a great person-! You’ve got such a cute voice-!!! Why don’t they listen-?!!!

To be honest, he finds your stutter kind of cute… he’s quite bold, so you being timid is something he doesn’t mind! Hanako doesn’t mind listening out for you- even if the other people aren’t in a relationship for you, isn’t it… basic human decency?? What happened to that???

“It’s really alright, Hanako. Things like this have happened since I was little- it hurts sometimes, but I’m mostly used to it.”

Hanako would then grab your shoulders gently, looking in your eyes with some determination!

“You shouldn’t have to be used to that!! I’m used to it because I’m dead, but you’re… alive. You can be heard and seen by everyone, yet they choose to not listen- it’s… ridiculous. I’m sorry that you have to deal with that, (Y/N)... really.”

Uncharacteristically soft moment, but it simply hits different for him due to personal experience. I’m sure as a human, the only time people saw him were when he was bullied, and now he’s- obviously- not seen by nearly anyone. It’s such a lonely feeling, and he genuinely hates that you can relate to it.

Teru Minamoto <3

It’s hard to not garner attention as Teru Minamoto’s girlfriend- so, people certainly acknowledge you once your relationship is made public/becomes obvious.

But! Before the entire school knew about the Prince having a girlfriend, Teru was… quite defensive over you- even before the two of you were a couple, he’d notice the way others seemed to step all over you. Ignoring you, interrupting you, forgetting about you.

Like Hanako, he doesn’t get it? You’ve got his attention, how do you not have anyone else’s? You’re so cute… and really do have a lovely voice, appearance, and overall are really pleasant to be around?? If anything you deserve more praise than he does-

He also doesn’t get it due to the fact that people acknowledge him a little too much-

Anyway, he tends to give that praise he thinks you deserve to you!

Meaning, he brags on you so much. Compliments you to your face, telling you how nice it is to converse with you- telling his family how lovely of a person you are. He even mentions it to classmates, which does start to earn others being more noticeable of your presence.

Not afraid to stick up for you in the least!! Who wouldn’t listen to Teru?? The moment someone interrupts, he’s politely making his way into the conversation- offering an “I’m sorry, I don’t think (Y/N) got her chance to speak.”

“Th-That’s okay, Teru. I appreciate it, but I’m used to things like that,” You told him after class, slightly embarrassed.

“Used to things like being ignored?”

“Yeah..?”

“...you shouldn’t have to be. I’d never be upset with you, but it does upset me that people have been so willing to pretend you aren’t there? I think you’re lovely, and nearly impossible to ignore. It’s simply confusing, I suppose.”

BRO if he, for some reason, isn’t on the field trip and you get forgotten- it’s game over for the chaperones will get their heads chewed off. Except he’ll be calm and collected while doing so- however, on the inside, he can’t express how upset he is.

“Is it not your job to make sure all the students are accounted for? What if (Y/N) had gotten lost? Do you not realize she could have been kidnapped? Should some low-life had decided to try anything strange, the blame would have been on you, and therefore our entire school. What would that do for both your’s and the school’s reputation?”

If he’s on the trip? You won’t be getting forgotten <3 Even you were to get distracted for a moment, he’s grabbing your hand and making sure you stay caught up with the class. Sits with you on the bus, and makes absolutely sure that you’re safe and with him!!

Akane Aoi <3

He worships the very ground you walk on. We all know how he treated Aoi? Well, now that’s how he treats you- maybe a bit less exaggerated and dramatic, but all that love and more is there!

So, he’s admiring you, and sees that you keep opening your mouth in an attempt to speak- only to have someone interrupt you, not even acknowledging that you’re there??

“Hey, (Y/N), what’s up?”

“O-oh, I was just trying to ask them something…”

“Oi, you heard her. Shut up for a moment and let (Y/N) get her question in.”

Most are somewhat aware of how scary Akane can be, so they’ll certainly listen whenever he’s there. Heck, people occasionally keep an extra eye open if they know he’s around- making sure they don’t unintentionally look past you.

If you dislike his very direct method, he’ll try to be nicer to others about it. But, he can’t help but get defensive- like our other boys, he admires you so much, and enjoys talking with you so much, that- by this point- others are simply missing out?? Like, it’s basically their loss for treating you like that. And it’s his mission to shower you in love and admiration to a point where others do the same- platonically of course, and boys better rethink anything that isn’t strictly “wow (Y/N) is cool, it’s cool that she’s taken by Akane.”

Cos, as we all know, if someone even says “oh, (Y/N) probably makes a cute girlfriend” it’s game over. RIP unknowing student, he had no mercy bashing their skull in </3

“Akane, it’s really fine, you know? Things like this happen been happening since... forever. I’m just not easily noticed, I suppose. I’m used to it!”

“Hmm... well, get un-used to it. You’ve got the most beautiful presence and voice of anyone I know! And, I want the class- for everyone- to be able to acknowledge that. You shouldn’t have to repeat yourself constantly, nor be ignored like that. Not on my watch, at least.”

You won’t be getting forgotten. He’s ahead of Teru, ahahahaaaa!!! If he isn’t on the field trip, he’s telling someone who will be to keep an eye out for you “or else <3”. The person wouldn’t even bother to question it- just nod and keep an eye out for you constantly. They even offer to have you sit with them! How sweet! Glad to know they value their skulls!!

If he’s on the trip, like the others, he’s keeping an eye out for you constantly. He’ll hold your hand the entire time, stopping as you pleased, but keeping an eye out for the group. He wants you to see what you want, so you will- all while staying with the class, or at least close to the class. If he, for some reason, were to lose sight of the class, he takes comfort in the fact that you wouldn’t be lost alone.

[insertdisc5]

Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

[unhingedhotchocolate]

Okayyy this actually gave me an idea for a fic outline with an adjacent concept! I’d only ever write the fic if I got OP’s permission and even then probably not for a while bc the current fic I’m working on is the first one I’ve written in over a year so I’m still trying to relearn/learn how to get chapters out at a reasonable pace (with not much success yet bc depression and the ao3 writer’s curse).

Titled Nerdy Prudes Must Do Musical Theater, it would start out a few days before the Waylon Place with Ruth feeling conflicted because in a few weeks (the weekend after the big game) the drama club will be finally performing The Barbecue Monologes.

She’s happy, but at the same time she’s upset because she knows a lot of people, especially in back stage, won’t be able to participate in the winter/spring production. They’re already pretty low on people so she’s worried about how they’ll be able to do the next show at all.

Of course, she eventually complains about this to Richie and Pete one day, but her rant gets cut off when Peter gets the call from Steph. Thoroughly distracted by this the subject doesn’t come back for a while longer.

Pasqualli’s happens and Grace makes the plans for the prank. After his honestly kind of sad rant, Max falls but is caught and saved (not sure by who). They hang out on the side walk for a while on okay-ish terms. The Nerds not mad at Max currently because of their guilt and Max just being grateful he’s not dead. Eventually it gets to small talk, everyone not wanting to discuss the more serious matters at hand that much. Ruth brings up theater and talks about her whole situation and part way through Max chips in, saying the concerning stuff about his dad not letting him do theater. Everyone gets pretty concerned and upset by this and Max has no idea why. Ruth tells him he can join the next production if he wants and that he shouldn’t restrict himself like that.

After being shocked by offer and processing it Max agrees on Monday. Motivated and still in short supply of members Ruth basically begs Pete, Richie, Steph, and even Grace to join. They eventually relent and agree to try, with Grace being the last to. (I’m not sure who would be in which departments tbh other than Max playing a supporting character or ensemble).

It skims over the time between then and auditions for the next show, just focusing on the key moments (The big game, Homecoming (With Lautski still!!), The Barbecue Monologes, and maybe more) and a few fun scenes where they bond.

Max is nervous as hell for auditions and goes to Ruth. She tries to give him a pep talk but partway through she offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could do it too. Max stops her speech and tries to convince her that she should audition with him. She initially refuses saying she could never but he wears her down, the final blow being Max saying that if she auditioned it would help him a lot and make him less nervous (he knew what he was doing when he said that. Bro’s an evil genius with social stuff).

They’re both still nervous as hell when auditions roll around but they do better than they expected and both get parts!

From there the chaos begins! Other than the nerds more people actually join this time due to Max and Stephs popularity.

They all bond and grow, especially Max (And Grace!). And even through the hard times and just tech week in general they all have an amazing experience!

There would definitely have to be some oc’s in there to fill out the cast and backstage but I think that’s be really fun cause I’ve never done a fic with oc’s like that!

Finally, here are the potential departments I think everyone else would be in, with potential of them being multiple departments at once!!

Richie: Lights or Sound (would only be able to do one since he’d be stuck in his respective area. Also whether or not Richie joins lights I think Ruth would pop in when she could and help teach them since she was previously the only person in the department.

Steph: Makeup, costume, props, art, set, and or crew (Irdk with her dude)

Pete: Crew, props, and or marketing.

Grace: Art and or costumes. (Or maybe I make her play flute or something and put her in the pit!)

But yeah I love this concept of more people joining the Hatchetfield High Drama Club! Whether it’s just Max and Ruth or everybody it’s so fun!

no genuinely i think the fastest way to a Max Jägerman Redemption Arc(TM) is putting him in the drama club. literally it would help him get over his toxic masculinity AND let him be a dramatic bitch without being a bully about it. High School Musical his ass

[thenotsohottopic]

hello! im wondering if you could make a seperate set of hc for each dsmp member and their relationship (!p) with a reader who is streamer but is the youngest (like 14-15yrs, they're part of the dsmp btw) i really dont mind if you decide to do only a certain amount or just ignore this at all thank you for your time hun!

Young Streamer! Reader

Character(s): Dream, Philza, Wilbur, Karl, Quackity, Ranboo, Tubbo, Tommy & reader

Genre: Fluff, headcanon

Warning(s): swearing, mentions of bullying(?)

Dream

- loves you

- he honestly thinks that you just bring this weird light (?) To the rest of the smp

- whenever he can, he watches your streams.

- lowkey scared chat when he donated $500-

"snsjsb IS THAT DREAM?!"

"BRO WTF"

"S/N IS PART OF THE SMP?!?!?!?"

- your chat was dead 💀

- I have a feeling that he is one of the mods

- banned everyone who ever said anything rude

- he is kinda like this protective uncle or sum shit

- idk man but everyone probably decided to give you a sad Lore type thing

Wilbur

- you two probably have the most cracked up convos

- ur part of Gen Z, you have to have some really fucking weird ideas or thought so hey! You share them with him

- he enjoys streaming with you

- you were there when they all met up in Brighton-

- Wilbur gave you a piggy back ride when that happened :)

- he treats you as if you're his younger sibling

- overall, he just tries his best to be there for you and shit lol

Quackity

- you two are complete CHAOS

- when you two are streaming together it's just a big mess

- constantly saying the WEIRDIST shit known to man

- Philza is scared whenyou two are together

- as is everyone else

- you know that 'No askers' thing he made?

- yeah he definitely made some weird ass song with you in it

- he has claimed you as his chaos sibling

- Wilbur is your "older brother" that you can turn to and have the most random conversations with and vent to

- while Quackity is your "older brother" that will do really stupid shit with you that probably ends up in a lecture

Ranboo

- omg you two are making horrible puns ALL OF THE TIME

- it annoys everyone but you two could care less <3

- he will watch all of your streams and you two stream together whenever you can

- he just really enjoys ur company

- he also has taken it upon himself to be someone for you to look up to

- u know how he was sad about not going to the MCC and he made that sad arc stream?

- ya you weren't invited either so you were apart of it

- it was funny

- especially because you ended up naming a bunch of chickens after everyone else that was in it (that you were friends w/ ofc)

- and killed all of them

Tubbo

- you two are the "looks wholesome but could actually kill you" duo

- it just scares everyone

- you know how he loves bees?

- ya if you have an obsession w/ a certain animal he will listen to you talk about it

- YOU TWO PROBABLY BUILT THIS COTTAGECORE HOUSE

- it has a bee farm

- Tommy also helped build it

- he tries to be this really cool and fun person for you!

- basically just someone he wants you to feel free to be yourself around

- you probably also help tubbo read certain sentences or words if you don't have dyslexia yourself

- if you do than you both probably get help from Tommy every now and then

Tommy

- you two are a force to be reckoned with

- just- scary chaotic

- I feel like Tommy would definitely be a little protective of you?

- he loves to stream w/ you

- however when it does happen it is one of the loudest things ever

- you two probably made a world together to try and win the game-

- but it consisted of you two killing eachother more than the mobs

- you know that whole Ranboo and Tubbo thing?

- your there to comfort him and shit

- you just spend as much time with him as you can

- he now has a nickname for you that came to be from an inside joke

- and vis versa with him :)

I am so sorry if this didn't turn out the way you wanted- I couldn't quite get all of the mcyt so I just did the people I could! Take care of yourselves <3

[lunaekalenda]

Hi! Can I request a Jean x Reader fic where reader is Marco's beloved little sister and basically follows the "Im in love with my brother's best friend" trope? And Reader doesn't do anything about it because she thinks Jean only sees her as a little sister (bc that's what he always says) but Jean is madly in love with her too? And hw never says anything until she does something really reckless. (Any Au is okay :) )

omg yes yes!! of course! i hope you like it! 💖 sorry for the waiting, anon!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ jean x reader!

❁ modern au!

❁ all are college students (age +18), mention of alcohol, food.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

"Y/N, I'm leaving!" Marco was at the door, putting on his shoes. You nod while you look at your big brother, a smile on his mouth when he sees your eyes from behind the kitchen's door, eating some doritos. "Oh, Jean is coming for dinner." You almost choke. You cough and Marco looks at you. "Y/n?"

"The dorito was spicy, sorry." Jean Kirstein is coming to have dinner at your home. Jean is Marco's best friend since the two of them wore diapers. Marco laughs.

“I told you they were spicy. Well, I'll go now, I’m late! Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook once we arrive home!”

You don’t like cooking, but you like even less to be alone with Jean while Marco is occupied. Marco never wants you or him to help, which means you’ll be alone with Jean when he cooks. You remembered your room was a mess and your makeup is in the main bathroom. You run to go and order things a bit, just in case Jean needs to use the bathroom and sees all your makeup around. You also entered your room and got changed, using a pretty outfit based in pastel pink clothes.

Jean is just a couple years older than you, but he thinks about you as his little sister, or so does he say. After all, he and Marco are like brothers, so that makes you her "fake lil-sis." You're tired of that sentence. Of that "How's my sis today?". You want him to look at you like a girl, someone to fall in love with. Not someone to apply a fake blood rule. Marco trains football until 8 p.m, so you have exactly an hour to get all clean. Even when you and Marco are really tidy people, it’s impossible to keep all the things in their places. You’re sitting on your bed, moving your legs with nervousness, when you hear the boys entering home.

“We’re back!” Marco yells. You prepare yourself for acting as nothing happens while you go down stairs. Your brother is taking out his shoes and giving his friend house slippers. 

“Hi, welcome.” Your voice comes out more shy than you’ve expected. Jean looks up, his hazel eyes looking directly at yours. You feel your legs weak when he smiles.

“Hi, y/n!” he says. For your luck, you hear another voice. 

“Is y/n here?” Connie’s voice is listened behind Marco.

“She lives here, idiot.” Jean comes in and you look how his tall body is now positioned near yours. Connie smiles and runs toward you, his arm around your shoulders. 

“Jean, sometimes people go and spend nights out with friends, specially if you’re coming.” The boy clicks his tongue. “Long time no see, bestie.” You laugh. It’s true that Connie is one of your best friends, he’s in your math group, and his outgoing personality made him became one of your best friends really quick, and also Marco’s. 

"You're having dinner here?" Connie shakes his head.

"Nah. Today I cook on the shared flat, I don't want to leave Sasha without dinner or she'll eat my chocolate reserves. I just came to steal a couple beers to Marco." Marco points the fridge with his index. Connie laughs. "Bro, I know where your fridge is, but thanks anyway."

They have a trust in each other that you envy, is so natural for them to visit the others' houses, and they're comfortable with it. As you're comfortable with them hanging around your house, seeing Marco so happy. Jean crosses his arms, his arm touching yours for a second. Your braincells disconnect from your body and you enter in a kinda of Jean repetitive thoughts. Connie sits on your sofa, opening a beer.

"Well, I'll go and make some pasta. You guys can play there." Connie takes the remotes, giving one to Jean and another to you.

"Marco, you should play with them." you say. "I'll cook."

"Don't worry! I beat their asses every day, now it's your turn to do the same." he says, entering the kitchen. You sigh, taking the remote. They put a shooter. You sit in the middle of your sofa, giving space to Jean to sit near Connie.

"Fuck, I'm so bad at this..." You say. Even knowing is a cooperative game against zombies, you're always the first one to die. Jean laughs quietly, before sitting next to you. His leg collides with yours in a jokingly way.

"I'll protect you." he says. You know he's talking about the game, but you can't help and start daydreaming about him and you, how his long fingers will take your hand and pull you to his chest, whispering those words on...

"Oi, Jean, you're not that good to protect her! Zombies will kill you two unless I protect you both!"

"Connie you suck at this game." Jean defends himself.

"I'm sure Y/N prefers me to protect her. Or do you prefer Jean?"

He's dead man. He knows perfectly what do you feel. He knows you like Jean a lot, and he has been trying to make you confess. Jean looks at you, his sweet gaze fixed on your eyes. Yo look down.

"I think I can handle it by myself." Connie laughs and Jean roasts him. The game starts. You watch how Jean's fingers change quickly between all the buttons: pressing, touching, moving. You look again to the TV, blushed. You shouldn't be thinking this things. Concentrate in the game, Y/N. Concentrate. The game goes strangly well, the three of you comunicate your plans easily to the others, and it all goes well. Jean rests his back against the sofa, making his t-shirt go out a bit and his sport shorts tighten around his worked body. You can't take your eyes out. You blush again and you feel how your remote vibrates, indicating you're being eat by a zombie. Connie sighs and Jean looks at the screen.

"Fuck, Y/N, sorry." he says. You clear your throat and shake your head.

"I was distracted, sorry." Connie smiles.

"What distracted you, bestie?" he asks. You're going to kill him. You don't answer, getting up and asking what do they want to drink. Jean asks for a glass of water and Connie asks if you could bring something to eat, even when he has to leave in ten minutes. You give Jean his glass and Connie some chips.

"Thank you, bestie." he says. You look at him, faking a smile.

"Eat and be silent for a while, bestie." he nods and eats. Even knowing you're joking, he doesn't say anything for a bit. He's concentrated in the game, as Jean is. You go to the kitchen and ask Marco if he needs soemthing. He shakes his head, preparing the sauce for the spaghetti.

"Weren't you playing?" he asks. You nod.

"Yep. I died." he smiles. Marco's smile is the most bright and beautiful smile you ever seen. You wanted to have a smile like his, but you only have his same eyes and freckles. He looks at you.

"Go, go. Don't leave my guests alone!" you nod and went back again to the living room. The game is finished, with Connie and Jean's stadistics in the screen.

"Look, bunny!" he says "I was the better one to protect you!". It's true that Jean's stadistics are better than Connie's.

"Oi, Kirstein, you're just a bit better... It was luck." he says. He looks the hour on his glass and gets up. "Well, I'll go home now. It was a pleasure." he says. You accompany him to the door. "I wish you luck, bestie. I'm sure you need it." You punch playfully Connie's shoulder before hugging him. "And, mark my words: He's just waiting." Then, he leaves, without giving you the opportunity to ask what the heck he meant by that. You head back to the living room, where Jean is sitting on the sofa. His sweater is on a near chair. It's so big and looks so comfortable...

"Do you want to play more?" you ask. Jean looks at you while you sit, giving him space. He smiles.

"Why not! Do you want me to teach you how to play this one?" he takes a open world game. You know he's really good at them. Marco, Jean and Eren usually play online every saturday, and they want you to join their team, but you haven't played that much. You nod. "Okay, let me..." He moves near to you. He takes the controller and gives one to you, keeping him the other. He enters the game. "Well, choose a character, bunny."

He has been calling you bunny since he discovered how much you like bunnies. They're so fluffy and beautiful, you like them. You have one, called "Wink", because he has a genetic problem that makes him wink one of his beautiful eyes. He was about to be sacrificed because of that, but you saved him in the last moment. He's now a happy bunny with a curious talent. You doesn't dislike the pet name Jean gave you years ago, but it makes him sound like he's calling you a really affectionate nickname.

You go back to reality and choose a cute little girl using a big hat. He chooses a near character and clicks play. "Okay. This is the main city, so now you have to climb here to unlock the map..." he explains you for a while, and you follow his character. Sometimes, when he moves his leg, his knee collides with yours. Now, you're totally stuck in a level.

"Jean, how do I...?" he looks at your character, stuck between two walls.

"Can I?" he puts his hands near your controller and, when you're about to give it to him, he puts his big hands on top of yours, covering them. His fingers pressed lightly against yours. You look at him, but he has his eyes fixed on the screen, as he moves your fingers with his. “You have to move like this, silly...” he says. But you can’t concentrate in anything more than his scent near you, the warmth his body irradiates and his fingers pressing yours sweetly. You feel how your heart speeds up it's beat.

"Y/N!" Marco yells. "Can you take the garbage to the container, please?" he asks. You yell yes in response, getting away from Jean's body. You get up fast. He does the same, suddenly kinda uncomfortable.

"I'll accompany you, bunny." he says. You nod, taking the garbage bag. Jean follows you silently. The container is not far from your house, just a couple crosswalks. You take the bag and start walking. It's dark now, and the street is really quiet. Just your steps and Jean's can be heard. He follows you keeping a distance, his long legs making short steps. "The night is beautiful today." he says. You nod in response. You look at both sides before crossing the street.

"Maybe a little bit cold." you say. He quickens the pace to be near to you. The sweater he took from the chair is around his waist, so he takes it and puts it on your shoulders.

"Use it. I'll take the bag." he says. You murmur a little "thanks" while putting his sweater on. It smells like him. You try to take the bag from his hands back, but he moves. "Jean, give me back the trash." He smiles playfully.

"Take it from me, bunny." he jokes. His long arms move the bag, avoiding you to take it. He's playing near the road, so if you go around him and surprise him from the road, you can take it. That's why you go down to the road, without looking and without noticing a car that is coming fast towards you. The car lights were really low, and that didn't make you realize it was coming. But now, now that Jean yelled your name and the car beeped, you realize you're about to be hitted by it.

You can't move, your body is totally paralyzed. You knew the car was trying to stop, but the high velocity it got is impossible to stop. You thought you'll feel a hard hit, but you felt a soft thing around you.

Jean's body is around yours when you find you two on the street. It takes you a couple seconds to realize what happened.

"Jean, Jean, Jean." you move him. Got he hit by the car? Did he put his body between yours and the car? He looks at you, his eyes searching your gaze.

"Are you okay?" he asks. You nod while he gets up, helping you to fo the same.

"And you? Did it hit you?" He shakes his head.

"I just pulled you against me, that's why we were on the floor." He explains. "None of us got hit. But you have to be more careful, what could have happened to you if I wasn't here? You coul... Y/N?" he asks. Tears are running down your tears. He takes you in a hug, his big and warm body protecting yours.

"Sorry." You say. You feel how he caresses you hair.

"You scared me. I thought the car was going to hit you. Be more careful." You nod. You try to make a joke, to make things more comfortable.

"You're really a good fake brother."

"That's what you think of me?" he asks. Isn't that what he wants you to think? Isn't he the one calling you sis? His hands explore a bit your body, with long caresses from your neck to your low back. His long fingers running slow on your skin.

"That's what you think of me" you answer. He clicks his tongue.

"You never showed any interest in me. I gave up and treated you like a sister. That's what you wanted, no?" You wanted to look at him, but he doesn't let you, pressing your head soflty against his chest.

"I was in love with you, Jean. But you came home and tell my brother how good Mikasa looked and «How are you, little sister?». What I was supossed to do? Compete with an older girl? Make you realize I'm not your little sister?"

He doesn't say nothing for a while. He breathes deeply, before talking.

"Sorry, I was nervous. I thought the car was going to hit you. I thought I was about to see you getting hit." he says. His breath is a little bit irregular now. Taking some valor, you leave a kiss on his chest, where is heart is ubicated. He sighs. "I also liked you. But it didn't feel good, you were my bestie's little sister. I didn't want to ruin my friendship or worse, your relation with your brother. I thought it was better for me to stay away. That's why I treated you like that. I was trying to convince myself. It didn't work." he lets out a little laugh.

"I felt like you were serious about it. That's why I never said anything. But I do like you, Kirstein."

"You're a lucky girl." he says. He keeps your head buried on his chest. "Because I also like you, Bott." he says. He leaves a soft kiss on your hair and, shyly, accompanies you to throw the garbage. There's silence. Once you're walking back, in the same silence, he breaks it. "Should we date, then?" he asks. "We're both adults and we like each other, doesn't it work like that?" he asks. You nod.

"But, Marco?" he says then. Oh, you forgot about him. Marco, your brother, his best friend.

"Oh, true..."

"Well, Marco is home and we aren't." he says. "He isn't going to miss us a couple minutes, right?" his voice getting low as his lips got closer to yours. "You don't know how many times I wanted to kiss those lips or caress this body." he murmurs. You tangle your hands around his neck.

"Why you didn't, then?" you ask. He lets out a little laugh.

"Now I have all the time of the world to kiss you." you feel his soft lips against yours. His hands around your waist and yours tangled on his hair. It feels so good.

"I hope so."

m e a n w h i le

"do you think he confessed?" Connie asks. Marco keeps taking out plates while talking to Connie on the phone.

"They have been out for twenty minutes. I'm a 99% sure he did, and he's corrupting my little sister behind a house." he says.

"He doesn't want to break your sister's relation with you." Connie says. Marco sighs.

"My sister is in love with him. If both like each other, it's none lf my business."

[januaryisnotanartist]

So day 5 of KanSang week is Wang Clan! Liu Sang.

Which got me thinking about how would Liu Sang fit in with the Wang Clan (and Wang Can) and still be Liu Sang (and not secretly Wang Can), and how could I get KanSang from such a universe?

I derailed directly into Liu Sang & Li Cu are bros.

(warning, this (d)evolved into a kinda fic as I was rambling.)

-

We begin with “Wang Can is the younger half brother of Liu Sang”, top it off with a bit of “evil step mother who was willing to burn her step son alive in an attempt to frame him for attempted murder gone wrong clearly belongs to a crazy death cult and was secretly a Wang operative the whole time, so when she and her husband died the Wang Clan swooped in to pick up the free orphans freshly traumatised kids ripe for brainwashing indoctrination into their cult clan.”

So now we have Liu Wang Can, who was raised by a woman who was already preparing him to join the Wang Clan, and Liu Sang who, because I need him to have a reason to firmly resist the Wang's Anti-Zhang propaganda, is from the Worship False Idols universe. (Which is to say: Liu Sang was rescued from human traffickers by Zhang Qiling before he moved in with his estranged father and wicked stepmother.)

Wang Can dives headfirst into the clan and evil assassin training, while Liu Sang keeps his head down because: where else can he go? His brother is here, he has no one left to turn to, and this clan is out for his ouxiang. Liu Sang chooses to stay so he can learn everything about the man who saved him, and more? importantly: about the clan who plan to hurt the man who'd saved him.

Everyone assumes Wang Can is the more terrifying “twin”. They're wrong.

Liu Sang has to watch as his brother strips away his own humanity despite Liu Sang's best efforts.

And then comes Li Cu.

Liu Sang would laugh if his brother's poor reaction to having a crush wasn't so... horrifying. He's not even sure Wang Can has realised his increased brutality and douchebaggery are attempts to show off for Li Cu.

As a big brother, Liu Sang thinks it might be his responsibility to explain some things before Li Cu kills Wang Can in self-defense, so he tracks down the new comer at one of the out door firing ranges while Li Cu's taking a break.

(Liu Sang hates the firing ranges, they always give him sensory overload, then Wang Can has to go out on extra dangerous missions just to prove they're useful and Wang Liu Sang isn't a burden, because like hell is he ever going to tell them just how much he can hear. They, because they're always considered as a unit, because both of them cling a little too much to one another. There's a reason they can't shake the foul rumours about their relationship, they're both too possessive.)

He remembers to make noise loud enough for a normal person to hear before he gets within striking distance, finds a nice crunchy leaf and crushes it under foot to get Li Cu's attention. Li Cu's first reaction almost makes Liu Sang laugh out loud.

“The hell did you do to your hair?!”

Because Liu Sang's hair has always had more red than Wang Can's, and they wear it differently. He doesn't stop the smirk though, tosses Li Cu a candy bar (technically contraband while off mission) and waits to see how long it takes Li Cu to realise he's not Wang Can.

It takes a few less sentences than Liu Sang hoped for Li Cu to cotton on, but still long enough for it to be funny.

They don't become friends, but they certainly aren't enemies, and they aren't nothing to each other.

Almost something like friends maybe.

Liu Sang reminds Li Cu not to lose himself to the Wang Clan, because they're very good at acting nice, at choosing just the right person to send to get under your skin. Every person you trusted in the Wang Clan was another way they had to get you to do what they wanted.

Liu Sang getting close to Li Cu ends up riling Wang Can, who can't figure out which of them he's more jealous about, so the higher ups send Liu Sang off on a mission.

“Only a week or two.”

Liu Sang says goodbye to Li Cu on his way out.

“Do ever think about leaving the Wangs?” Li Cu wants to know. “Just, go missing in the middle of a mission on not look back?”

“My brother's here,” Liu Sang tells him. Because the Wangs know how to use connections, and if they'd ever sent both brothers out together, Liu Sang would have given in to the temptation to run away years ago. To drag his brother back to some semblance of humanity and not the murder puppet the Wangs had turned him into.

-

Liu Sang returns to a compound devoid of life, the secret regrouping call had gone out, he knows where he's supposed to go but there's a terrible weight sitting in his chest as he walks through the building. The poisonous gas no longer a threat, he can see where the infiltrators' bodies would have been.

They'd taken their own dead and left the Wangs to rot.

He'd have found it funny if his brother hadn't been one of the corpses.

Liu Sang can't hear himself screaming over the ringing in his ears, his world falling apart at the seams. He'd kept himself together through the hell of the Wangs by focusing on trying to take care of his brother.

Who is he if he's not Wang Can's gege?

His brother is dead, and he knows exactly whose fault it is.

There's a grenade pin by his brother's corpse, and explosive damage by on of the vents, and the Wangs had made his brother such a good little soldier.

Liu Sang thinks of the man with the tattoo who'd saved him from one hell only to leave him to another. The man the Wangs hated more than any other.

He has no path forward but one. Liu Sang takes the information he'd gathered painstakingly through the years in secret, always too afraid to use it, and heads to the meeting location.

When his is the only heartbeat left there, he goes to find every safe house and backup location left.

He tracks down every member of the Wangs he can find and ensures no one loyal lives.

And then he's left back where he was. Alone. No idea what to do next.

-

Li Cu thinks he's hallucinating the first time he sees Liu Sang across the street.

To be fair, he hadn't even been sure it was him, Liu Sang had vanished almost as Li Cu was noticing him.

He'd never mentioned Liu Sang to Wu Xie and the others, it hadn't felt right. Liu Sang wasn't a Wang, not really. He'd taken the name, the tattoo, but unlike his brother, Liu Sang had still hung on to his old name, a secret Liu Sang had only shared once when he'd been tired enough to be tipsy.

Now Liu Sang was here, and obviously wanted to talk to Li Cu judging by how often Li Cu caught him watching. Liu Sang had apologised more than once for Wang Can's poor social skills, but Liu Sang's weren't exactly up to par either, unless they were being directly compared to his brother's.

So Li Cu makes himself available, waits in the cold, dark night for Liu Sang to appear from nowhere. And by cold, dark night, Li Cu means he takes to haunting a quiet table at a street food vendor while he tries to study.

Liu Sang sits down across from him with food, and they just share the table for a while, eating, studying, waiting.

From up close Liu Sang looks terrible, and not for the first time since Wu Xie had raided the Wang base, Li Cu wonders what happened to Liu Sang.

“Sorry about your brother,” Li Cu doesn't realise he's going to say it out loud until it's already out of his mouth. It seems like the kind of thing he should be saying though.

Liu Sang freezes, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, a clump of rice drops back onto his plate.

“You don't have to lie about it,” Liu Sang says at last, “I think part of me always knew we weren't both leaving.” He puts his chopsticks down and looks a little lost. “Sometimes, I wonder I there was ever anything in him that I could have saved.”

“Not by the end,” Li Cu says, and there's a look of realisation on Liu Sang's face, and Li Cu gets the feeling Liu Sang knows now that Li Cu had been there when Wang Can had pulled the pin from the grenade.

They sit in silence so long, Li Cu wonders if he should go back to his food or his textbook, but then Liu Sang finally starts talking again.

“I actually, tracked you down to ask...” Liu Sang looks like he'd rather swallow razors, “for a favour. From you. I want to ask you to do me a favour.”

Of all the things Li Cu expects to follow, learning tattoo artistry is not one of them. It takes months before Liu Sang is happy with Li Cu's skills, by which time Li Cu has long stopped asking why Liu Sang doesn't just go to a proper tattoo artist.

He doesn't ask where Liu Sang got the equipment, or how he'd managed to get the studio for an entire day, he doesn't know if he wants an answer or not.

Li Cu knows that Liu Sang already has a tattoo, all the Wang Clan members had had one, a phoenix on the back of their right shoulders that only showed in the heat. Li Cu had been not far off having to get one as well, something that had repulsed him so deeply he'd been shaken by the depth of it.

His back had already been mutilated, like hell he'd let anyone else mark him against his will again.

(He hates that he suddenly understands why Liu Sang had gotten him to learn to tattoo.)

To his surprise, there's also an unfinished tattoo across Liu Sang's chest, and it looks vaguely familiar to Li Cu.

“Qilin?” He thinks he knows why.

Liu Sang nods, and turns his back so Li Cu can press a hot cloth against his shoulder. Once the phoenix is visible, Li Cu places the stencil carefully so it aligns just right then readies the tools while they wait for the phoenix to vanish from sight.

Li Cu has only been practicing for a few months, so he's not very fast, but he makes sure the lines are steady, that the shading is right.

It takes all day, and they won't be able to check the cover up has worked for another few days, but in the end Li Cu is confident no amount of heat will let the phoenix show through the multi-tailed fox he's inked onto Liu Sang's shoulder.

-

Before they part ways again, Li Cu pulls Liu Sang into what is probably the world's most awkward hug, and makes sure he has Li Cu's contact information.

“At least let me know you're alive every once in a while, yeah?” Because Li Cu already knows Liu Sang's leaving.

Liu Sang nods, but Li Cu isn't really expecting much.

Three days later he gets a picture of a town sign from an unfamiliar number, accompanied by the words: Not Dead Yet.

-

Liu Sang keeps in contact, more than Li Cu thought he would, not that he minds. Except that Liu Sang has a strange penchant for meerkat memes and keeps being weirdly funny at the worst possible times.

Like a few years later when Li Cu learned Liu Sang was on a job with Erbai's crew after Liu Sang sent him a text, which caused Li Cu to snort his drink through his nose and all over his freshly complete collage homework.

Help! He's a Himbo! My One True Weakness!

[murumokirby360]

Fixing my PC - Volume II Story (w/ my paper dolls) [April 26, 2022]

[1st to 2nd Image(s) ↑ (Snapshot date: Apr 26, 2022):]

Hello! FINALLY! My PC desktop has come to life for the second time! 🖥️🔧😃 And I'll explain the story of what happened 🙂📖. I'll try my best as I can, and I hope you understand... So, without further ado, let's get started:

• April 1st, 2022 (Friday): (It all starts) On the morning of the first day, 6:30 AM, after I cycle for 10 minutes as my morning exercise I go to my usual PC for surfing the web, etc. Then, I realize that my PC's CPU heatsink need some cleaning up from all the dust, so I decided to disassemble the entire hardware from the motherboard (including the aforementioned CPU heatsink), except the CPU chip (the intel i3 6th gen). After that, I assemble all of the internal hardware & hope my PC is working. When I plug the PC's electrical cord onto the socket, it won't work. I don't understand why is this happening? I tried everything & carefully as I can without touching or removing the CPU Chip from the CPU socket (which is the sensitive part). So now my PC is utterly useless, and I can't find an alternative PC to use. My big brother's laptop is always carried at work on weekdays, while my mom's laptop is for her selling business, and I'm unable to access my little bro's PC due to a password. Right now, I have no choice but to take a nap for 8 straight hours. And nope, this is not a joke (am I add); nor celebrating April Fools Day though. Anyways, I have to chat with my little brother about my PC's problem, and he'll be on his way after work. When my little brother arrive home at 8 PM, he inspects my PC & call one of his closes friend(s) who knows all about fixing the PC than I am (which is hurt/stole my thunder). He tried hard on every troubleshooting step-by-step on different methods before he gives up & calls it quits, the result that my PC was dead for the second time.

• April 4 (Monday) to April 7 (Thursday), 2022: With the April Fools is now in the rear mirror (until next year), and with no other help to fix my PC, I went over to the internet via my phone & I'm browsing a near computer repair shop w/ less travel cost until I found one. Although I would not say the real name of the computer store, it'll ruin the person's reputation (including the store itself). The only problem is the weather condition; it's rainy season for some obvious reason. Though it's weird, considering that the Philippines' April month is the scorching summer season. And with the cloudy raindrops, I can't go by myself without a vehicle. So my father calls his friend for a lift to the computer repair store, and we reach the destination in about 10 to 15 minutes. I request the computer repair person for a PC check-up to see the culprit of why my PC is not working, I handed it over to the repair person for inspection, while we sit & wait. After doing the repair person's further inspection, he/she said that the motherboard is not working. Huh, I could see the Php 1,800 of the motherboard was not durable. Good thing the internal hardware parts from the motherboard are intact, including the CPU chip... Or so I thought for the latter. After a long day & complicated decision that I won't deep in, my parents decided to pull out my PC from the computer repair store on April 7 (Thursday), due to... Umm... Untrustworthy (we think).

• April 9, 2022 (Saturday): After the departure of my PC, I browsed once again for another computer repair store that something trustworthy than the previous one, until I found it. Again I won't mention the name of the computer repair store, but trust me this one had a 5 stars worthy pay. At 3:30 PM, my dad & I are going to the computer repair store on a long travel destination albeit an easy route. After we've reached the "genuine" computer repair store we requested them for a PC check-up once more along with troubleshooting to see the problem. We've taken around half an hour before announcing the problem, saying that they were trying hard their best, so they suggest that we leave our PC to the technical support crew, and they'll update via private message.

• April 13, 2022 (Wednesday): The next week, I was doing household chores, helping my parents sell clothing business, and taking a break by playing games on my big brother's laptop. Regular family stuff, yet nothing special. At 3:22 PM, I decided to take a chat with the "genuine" computer repair store for an update, and upon inspection, they said that the motherboard & CPU unit is now the culprits of why is my PC not turning on. Damn, I hope they have a fresh 6th gen motherboard & CPU unit for less cost due to being discontinued. Unfortunately, they only have 6th gen motherboards on stock & not CPU 6th gen units. Such a shame. The only technical support suggest is to upgrade to 10th gen hardware, but how much? BTW: two DDR4 Rams (4GB), 400GB hard drive, and GTX 750 Ti graphics card, as well as the power supply, survived. *phew* What a relief. But anyway, how much is the cost for upgrading 10th gen hardware (motherboard [Gigabyte H410M H V3 Socket 1200 DDR4] & intel core i3 10th gen CPU unit [10105F Comet Lake])? ₱8,300 ($158). Ummm, yeah, that's a lot of dough, unfortunately, I don't have that dough, so my parents had no choice but to pay for it anyway for me. After all, I can't be bored without a PC. While adding it, I learn my lesson from the folks of the professional technical support crew that I shouldn't clean & disassemble for less or more than a month. Sure the dust won't destroy the computer, but let it leave when it's less. And when I want to wipe out the dust (when it's covered), they suggest that I'll use a portable vacuum cleaner with less noise without disassembling a single piece of hardware. Good advice, I should invest portable vacuum cleaner since I don't have one. Anyways, my parents will pay for the upgraded hardware for my PC via e-money send & they're now working on the progress.

• April 23, 2022 (Saturday): Now, fast forward to next week, and according to the owner of the "genuine" computer repair store it should be delivered this Saturday (Apr 23rd), but how long? Well, in the meantime I guess I'll do more chores & lending a hand to my parents with their business. Finally arrived at... 9:30 PM. With the rider carrying my fixed PC behind the motorcycle tail. The payment was already sent via E-money, so the rider's do is handed over the fixed PC to me, with two broken pieces of hardware inside of a single motherboard box. The delivery rider is out & back to the store, while I'm setting & cleaning up my desk, plugging all of my input & output devices, as well as electric sockets & finally turning on! And once it's on, my PC desktop is alive once again! One thing that I forgot though is my second hard disk drive, where all of my important files are inside (my artworks, pictures, snapshots, etc.), so I should it add that as well as part of the fixing. But, otherwise, it worked. Looks like I'll buy a 3.5-inch Hard Disk enclosure via the shopping site, but the delivery process could be impatient for me. I could go to another computer shop by myself, but the cost of the ride will be insufficient for my budget savings. But right now, my 2nd hard disk drive is nice & safe, hoping my precious files remain. As for the main hard disk drive, luckily, I don't need to reformat (either the new OS with Windows 11 or the previous Windows 10), because the new motherboard & CPU surprisingly recognize & worked well. Meaning my other files still remain.

3rd to 5th Image(s) ↑ [Snapshot date: Apr 24, 2022]:

• Here's what it looks like when the new motherboard & CPU unit are installed through my PC desktop, including a metal backplate & six USB ports (2x USB 3.0s & 4x USB 2.0s) which is much preferred than just four ports. Plus that Intel Core i3 (10th Gen) sticker looks cool.

6th to 8th Image(s) ↑ [Snapshot date: Apr 24 to 26, 2022]:

• Also, they offer free (empty) boxes after installing the new motherboard & CPU chip. And inside of the motherboard's cardboard box is the broken motherboard & broken CPU 6th gen intel Core i3. My paper dolls suggest that these will sell for scrap (including the old MSI motherboard from 2016). Yeah, great idea!

Overall:

• I would say, it was a heck of a story diary I type, and with some lessons from the technical support crew I will take notes & try to remember what should I do with my PC in care & responsibility.

• And as a result, I decided to get a job, namely work-at-home w/ a decent payout from hard work, and the income earnings will be my personal savings instead of borrowing my parents' (or my siblings') money savings. Not to mention I would spend it responsibility, meaning not just my hobbies or anything, but also important bills & debts that need to be. That's good advice.

Well, that's all for now. And I hope you like my story.

If you want to see my previous story from July 4, 2021, then I'll provide some links down below.↓

• Fixing my PC’s motherboard Part 1 [7/4/21]

• Fixing my PC’s motherboard Part 2 [7/4/21]

Tagged: @bryan360, @lordromulus90, @carmenramcat, @leapant, @alexander1301

[obeiii-mee]

Hey there! Love your writing. What about MC spending a whole day with just one of the brothers? Like you know, if the brothers were deciding what to do? Sorry if it’s too boring and romantic haha, I’m a lost case, I desperately need that night walks with Satan and working out with Beel in my life haha. Thanks xx

Same though. I love writing just typical HCs with the bros during date night or something. And I’m currently writing a few angst HCs so I really needed this too lmao. I hope you don’t mind these not being too long. I hope this satisfies you lol.

Enjoy!

——————————

The Brothers Spending a Whole Day with MC:

Lucifer:

-Mr. Prideful doesn’t take many days off

-But when he’s with you, he really feels like he can unwind properly

-Lucifer loves going on walks with you tbh

-He feels like it’s a nice break from all of his office work and meetings

-Sometimes the two of you end up in Majolish or a restaurant

-He definitely has a thing for spoiling you on days like these, because he feels he doesn’t appreciate you enough otherwise

-Like when he yells at both you and Mammon for doing stupid shit around Lord Diavolo

-The two of you could walk through the whole of DevilDom hand in hand if you had more hours in the day

-I see Lucifer as a bit traditional when it comes to dating so it’s obvious you’ll have movie dates and everything

-But a day off for him? With you? Away from his brothers, all of their chaos and the never ending attention his paperwork needs?

-It feels like he’s in the Celestial Realm all over again

-He does love you

-His past just doesn’t let him express his affection towards you very well

Mammon:

-If the two of you could spend the whole day together, there are only three places you could be at: Majolish, the casino or trying to make money for Mammon’s debts somewhere

-But it doesn’t really matter for him

-He could be stuck in a broom closet with you and still be happy (though he wouldn’t admit it)

-Spending a day with just him is bound to end in tears to be honest, on his part usually

-Because everything is going well and you’re having fun

-“Ah shit!”

-“Mammon you OK? What happened?”

-“I accidentally sold Lucifer’s gloves for 50000 Grimm!”

-How does one accidentally sell something?

-So he get a bit of an earful for that

-Other than that, being with the second eldest is crazy enough as it is

-You may have lost all that money at the casino but for the first time in a while, Mammon didn’t care that much

-Because you were there and laughing with him about how stupid both of you were

-You guys hit as many shops as possible and just generally have a messy, fun time together

-He often ends these days saying something like “You should be grateful that THE GREAT MAMMON agreed to let you tag along with him today.”

-But just kiss him on the cheek and he will shut up. For like hours. He’ll be too flushed to even look you in the eye

-He really wants to spend another day out with his human

Levi:

-Welp, life of a shut-in otaku

-It should be of no surprise that the two of you spend most of your time in his room

-It’s just the one place he’s most comfortable in and having you there makes it so much better

-Anime’s and video games are a must obviously

-But he loves doing movie marathons with you too (while loudly complaining the movie sucks and that you’re a normie for choosing it. Which means he likes it)

-Maybe a few good hours of him ranting about TSL because it’s Levi

-So the chances of you guys getting any sleep on said day are slim to none

-Also, if you agree to go to conventions with him, he will die of happiness

-On the rare occasion that he does go outside, he’s only out there because you went with him so that should tell you how much he loves you

-But most of the time you’re locked in his room to the point where Luci dearest has to come along and drag you the fuck to breakfast

-Ah, true love~~

Satan:

-I mean, this one should be pretty obvious too

-If he doesn’t enjoy dates in the library, then is he really Satan? (I never thought a sentence like that would ever be typed)

-Most of the time it ends with him reading to you because his voice is sO bEAutIful and you just melt when you hear it

-I will forever hc that he makes sound effects while reading too so imagine that

-You two don’t always get the chance to spend a whole day together

-But he tries to check in on you at least once a day

-*Cue romantic run through the house of Lamentation, trying to find you so he can gossip and bitch about Lucifer*

-Walks with him are very common too

-They usually take place at night, because he’s a sap and he read too many romance books and damn it kiss him already

-He would hold an umbreally over you if it started raining and everything

-Satan takes these moments to chat to you about anything, he just wants to appreciate you being there

-You guys made out several times while on these ‘walks’ ngl skskevshskbeuensb

-One time, you showed him a cat cáfe in the human realm and he went nuts

-Safe to say you’ve been there more times than I care to count, most of which were without permission

-A day with him can either go extremely calmly and end with you guys falling asleep on each other in his room or escalate to either pranking Lucifer or...steamier stuff

-Haha if anyone ever mentions he’s a cheesy bastard, they’re dead before they can say their prayers

-Except you, you get the pass on this one, tease him as much as you want

Asmo:

-Finally, he gets to have you all to himself without any of his brothers cockblocking him all the time~ (same tbh)

-The whole day would be planned from head to toe in activities and events

-It would start with some sort of makeover in the morning (getting your nails done, doing hairstyles, skin routine etc.)

-Then it would move on to some serious shopping sprees where he basically buys everything that he deems to be cute

-They’re for you 100% tho

-The day usually ends with you getting dragged to parties and clubs because Asmo can’t go a day without speaking to other people

-By the time you get home, you’re almost knocked out cold and carrying several bags full of clothes and shit

-But you can never say you didn’t enjoy yourself on these days

-Having Asmo around is exhilarating and somehow, even if crowds happen to not be your thing, it’s still really easy to have fun anyway

-There are times when the two of you stay at home and do each other’s nails and everything

-And you two are very fond of these sort of dates as well

-Of course, all of this assuming he won’t try to seduce you and get in your pants all day

-Turns our Mammon is somehow telepathically connected to you and rushes over any time this happens

-So much for not being cockblocked I guess

-He always switches things up as well which is usually very pleasant because you don’t visit the same shops or clubs every day

-Just be back by midnight or you’ll have your asses handed back to you otherwise

Beel:

-Beel loves you

-Beel loves food

-If those two happen to be in the same room, he might as well die peacefully

-It’s all he ever asked for (especially if Belphie is there too)

-Half of the day is spent at either Hell’s Kitchen or in your kitchen at home

-For him, the food always tastes better when you’re there so if you’re willing to go, then he’ll be like a cheerful puppy the whole time (how many times have I compared Beel to a puppy lmao)

-The other half of the day is spent training

-Work out sessions are important to him and he’s more than happy to let you join in

-If anything, you’ll be on his back as he does his push ups even though you’re not that heavy to him

-It sort of warms that demon heart of his because you’re always there handing him towels and water after he’s finished

-And you always have snacks prepared too which is wonderful really

-Kudos for being able to hide them from him the whole time

-It’s also not that surprising to know that you, Beel and Belphie hang out a lot

-So these days often mean that Belphegor tags along with you guys everywhere

-You won’t notice him tho, believe me, he’ll just stay attached to Beel’s back and sleep the whole time

-If he gets to spend a day with his loved ones, then Beel can honestly not ask for more

Belphie:

-“Belphie...?”

-“Yes MC?”

-“Is.....is that a pillow fort that’s almost as big as the attic?”

-“It is indeed.”

-“Why?”

-“Why not?”

-Tbh it would be a miracle if you two didn’t sleep the whole day

-But if he had to go somewhere with you

-It would be anywhere

-Much like Mammon, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the evironment as long as you’re there

-Chances are, however, that he will sneak you two to the human world a few times in secret

-He still insists he hates humans but truth is, he misses them and their realm

-Going back there, without permission the same way he did all those centuries ago, was like a breath of fresh air

-You guys would be chilling at a park in the human realm, probably make small picnic or something

-Belphie, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, loves these dates and would kill anything on his path if it meant he gets to be in your arms while taking a nap in the human world

-He invites Beel along too which makes everything so much better for him

-He will just fall asleep on you while you run your fingers through his hair

-Belphie is so warm too so it’s likely you won’t stay awake for long either

-Poor Beel has to carry both back to DevilDom but he does it anyway without complaining >:(

-He knows that he isn’t allowed to come up here and that he should stop these dates before Lucifer finds out

-But being out here with you brings him an irreplaceable meaning and you’re so soft and gentle, he can’t resist cuddling into you

-Also he doesn’t give a shit what Lucifer thinks

(Idk why my writing is so bad in this post, it kinda feels like I forced myself to write it and maybe that’s why..? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my mess of HCs)

Al~

[superman86to99]

Super-Titles Round-Up (January 1994)

1994 was the point when there were officially as many if not more Superman spin-offs, specials, and miniseries out every month than actual Superman titles, so here's a new section to (briefly) talk about each of them! January was a pretty light month compared to what’s ahead (Superboy, Steel, and the Supergirl mini all started in February) so I'll be padding out this post with some late '93 Superman appearances we hadn't talked about before. Here we go:

S.T.A.R. Corps #1 (November 1993)

S.T.A.R. Corps was a pretty bizarre miniseries that mostly exists to make you wonder how the hell S.T.A.R. Labs hasn't been shut down by the government and/or bankrupted by all the lawsuits resulting from the freak accidents that happen there every week. This issue starts with Clark Kent and Lois Lane attending the inauguration of S.T.A.R.'s fancy new Metropolis facility, since the old one imploded during Armageddon 2001. Of course, it takes less than one page for this building to start coming apart too, courtesy of a soldier who was accidentally fused with an experimental armor and lost control of his weapons.

Clark is buried in the rubble, and then Superman swoops by to punch the poor soldier, whose only crime was volunteering for a S.T.A.R. project. He should have known better, though.

And that's the extent of Superman's contribution to this series. The soldier eventually forms a sort of super-group with other people mutated by S.T.A.R. accidents (including Kitty "Rampage" Faulkner), but I believe they never showed up again after the end of the miniseries, hopefully because they won a class action lawsuit against the lab and they’re all retired now.

Valor #14 (December 1993)

Valor, the character who’s basically Superman but with a deadly allergy to lead, is dying from... a deadly allergy to lead. Valor asks Superman what’s it like to come back from the dead, and I guess at this point Supes was tired of saying “actually, I only went into a deep stasis and...” so he goes along with it.

The part about them being brothers is a reference to Valor’s Silver Age version, Superboy’s fake big bro “Mon-El,” because this issue was written by Mark Waid and he just can’t help himself.

Bloodbath #1-2 (December 1993)

These unfortunately oversized issues finish up the terrible “Bloodlines” crossover that ran through most of DC’s 1993 annuals, including the four Superman ones. I read this atrocity mostly to check out the scenes featuring Sasha Green, the personal trainer murdered by Lex Luthor Jr. in Superman #77 and then brought back to life as a superpowered being by the Xenomorph wannabes who are trying to invade Earth in this crossover. Turns out Sasha only shows up for three pages in the second issue, where she briefly teams up with Garth Ennis’ Hitman (the only noteworthy character to come out of this crapfest). They’re both carrying giant guns when they bump into each other because, again, 1993.

The two blow up a giant monster, and then Hitman realizes he can’t read her mind because she’s a zombie or something and they part ways. According to the DC wiki this was Sasha’s last non-flashback appearance, but the story of her murder will play a big role in the Superman titles in the coming months.

To my surprise, someone who DOES show up for more than three pages is the all-new Eradicator, who helps Lex Jr. and some S.T.A.R. geeks analyze one of the captured aliens. Later, the other aliens come break out their buddy and the Eradicator tries to take on all of them alone, but it... doesn’t go well for him.

That’s the last time we see him in this series. I can’t imagine any ‘90s kid reading that and going “Man, I hope I could read about this badass every month!” And yet, the very next month...

Outsiders #3 (January 1994)

As mentioned during the new Eradicator’s introductory issue in Action #693, the Outsiders, Batman’s old B-team, have been framed for the murder of an entire village in Europe. The Eradicator for some reason decides it’s his job to avenge those people so he tracks down the Outsiders and starts fighting them. It... doesn’t go well for the Outsiders.

Before he can rip out any other appendages, however, the Eradicator finds out that the evil-looking vampire king who sent him after the Outsiders is actually the one who murdered that village, so he’s like “Whoops, my bad! Let’s team up.”

The Eradicator would stay with the team for the rest of this series, so this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

NEXT TIME: Superboy! Supergirl! Steel!

[kurokoros]

if you leave, when i go (find me in the shallows) | todoroki shouto

Rated: M

Words: 24.5K (she’s long)

Pairing: merman!shouto todoroki x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

AN: Written for the @bnhabookclub “just add water” event. I used dialogue prompts 2 and 10 from their list. This was supposed to be a short, 7K one-shot and that... did not happen lmao. I’m a little surprised that I finished this on time, but I’m so happy that I did. I do have two alternate endings to this that I plan to write, so stay tuned for those! Now, I need to sleep for the next ~24 hours. Enjoy!

Also, sorry, but per the laws of anime logic, your side ponytail mother is probably dead, and your deadbeat father left you, so you’re living with your cousin in this. AKA: I’m the only Manual stan in the fandom and needed to put him in this fic.

Special thanks to @sadistiks and @shinsotired for beta reading the first half of this fic! They really helped me figure out the pacing. And special thanks to @freckledoriya for motivating me to write this in the first place!

Warnings: smut (one scene towards the end, feel free to skip it!), lowkey breeding kink (???),  language, character death, descriptions of drowning, violence, mentions of blood 

XXX

Waves lap at your bare toes as you walk along the edge of the water, searching for sea glass in the sand—a futile effort; it’s growing dark, storm clouds rolling overhead. It isn’t raining, yet, but the air is damp with forewarning, and the ocean breeze sweeping in from the water chills your skin. The empty bucket you’ve been carrying brushes against your knee with every step. 

In front of you, Bakugou groans low in the back of his throat, almost growling as he stomps through the sand. “This is stupid,” he grumbles, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his orange and black board shorts. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the expression he’s wearing: brows furrowed in a scowl and lip pulled back in a sneer. 

Rolling your eyes, you kick water at him. “Then why did you come?” you ask, ignoring his complaints. He’s never liked the beach. And he makes that known every time the rest of you drag him out here, but you know he’s all talk. If he really didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t have let you and Ochako and Kirishima pull him out of bed to come here.

“It’s not stupid if we’re having fun,” Ochako chirps from beside you, an extra bounce in her step. Her fingers are laced together behind her back, and she’s handed her bucket off to Kirishima at some point, the boy dutifully combing the beach with a careful eye for anything shiny.

Bakugou glances at Ochako, and his gaze softens around the edges. His voice doesn’t have nearly as much bite when he says, “Speak for yourself, shorty.” It’s hard not to give in to the bubbly girl. Between her and Kirishima, Bakugou is almost pleasant to be around. Almost.

Midoriya isn’t the least bit put out by Bakugou’s complaining, his smile sunny as he looks around the empty beach. There’s no one out here but the six of you, and it’s almost disconcerting without the usual flock of tourists and locals alike. “Come on, Kacchan,” he says, glancing at the other boy, “we’re almost done! After this, we can stop at the store on the way back to Kirishima’s house.”

Iida speaks up for the first time, trailing behind the rest of you vigilantly, watching for even a hint of trouble. “Midoriya is right,” he tells all of you, fixing his glasses and sending you all a stern look. “We shouldn’t stay out here much longer, with the storm coming in.” He hadn’t wanted to come out at all today, with the weather, but when the rest of you decided to go regardless, he caved, claiming that someone with common sense needed to watch out for you.

He’s also the only one wearing a raincoat and rubber boots on the beach, prepared for a storm that won’t hit for at least another hour. 

“Man, you worry too much,” Kirishima tells him, giving up on his search for anything in the sand. He flashes Iida a wide grin as he fixes his headband. “It’s just a little rain!”

The rest of you groan as Iida’s eyes narrow, preparing for a lecture. And, sure enough, Iida tenses, straightening almost painfully. “It’s not just a little rain, Kirishima,” he chastises, arms already beginning to move around wildly. “An ocean storm can be incredibly dangerous, even if this one isn’t expected to cause a tsunami!” He continues, reciting facts about storms and tsunamis that you’re almost positive he memorized from some textbook, but you tune him out easily.

Ochako does the same as you, already bored, and Kirishima and Bakugou take turns egging Iida on with sarcastic remarks. Midoriya is the only one that actually seems interested in Iida’s storm facts, but that isn’t surprising. He’d probably be taking notes if he had a pen on hand.

With a sigh, you glance out over the water. The ocean is all deep blues and shades of grey from the oncoming storm. You probably should have just stayed home. It’s better to search for sea glass after a storm anyway; the waves wash everything ashore. But you like the quiet. The calm before the storm.

You drag your toes through the sand, flicking more water at Bakugou’s legs. Something smooth brushes your skin, and you probably would have ignored it if you hadn’t been staring at the ground. A bright flash of color against the grains of sand makes you still, and you crouch, reaching underwater. What you pull from the ocean is a pretty piece of sea glass. The edges are rubbed smooth from years tumbling through the water, and the glass is almost a teardrop in shape, long and not quite flat, just big enough to fit comfortably in your palm.

It’s the most breathtaking shade of blue you’ve ever seen.

Ochako is beside you in an instant, peering over your shoulder at what you’ve found and accidentally splashing you with saltwater. “Did you find something?” she asks excitedly, eyes widening when she sees what you have. “Ooh, turquoise! That’s amazing! I’ve never seen that color before, ugh, I’m so jealous!” She hooks her arm around your waist as you stand up, squeezing you in a tight hug.

Kirishima leans over as well, interested in anything marine in nature. He grins. “Hey! Nice job!” he says, slapping you on the back a little too hard. 

The good natured hit sends you careening forward with a yelp, the uneven sand leaving you off balance. Ochako yanks you back, but not before you knock your arm against Bakugou’s. That only further irritates the huffy blond, but he doesn’t snap at you like usual, just grabs your arm to keep you from accidentally falling down.

Quirking a brow, he glances at the piece of sea glass you have cradled in your palm. He’s not impressed. “I can’t believe you dumbasses dragged me out here for this,” Bakugou gripes, but even that doesn’t sound convincing. Ochako and Kirishima’s excitement is infectious, and despite his complaining, you know Bakugou never really means it.

Midoriya and Iida have stopped as well, and the latter pulls his raincoat closer. “Yes, very nice job, Mizushima,” he tells you, trying to shoo the rest of you away from the water. “Now we need to leave before the storm hits.”

A chorus of “yes, Iida” and “whatever” are your responses, but the taller boy doesn’t take the grumbling to heart. You’ll all get over it by the time you make it back to Kirishima’s house. Besides, you’d rather avoid the rain if you can.

Iida places his hands on his hips and watches Ochako, Kirishima, and Midoriya turn around, heading back up the beach to where Bakugou’s car is sitting in the parking lot. When you and Bakugou don’t follow, Iida turns to the two of you, arching one eyebrow as if daring you to argue—a look you know isn’t being directed at you.

Bakugou huffs and turns away, glaring across the beach, and you roll your eyes. He was the one that wanted to leave just a minute ago. 

As the others stop a few feet away, waiting for you, you run your thumb along the smooth edge of the sea glass you found, keeping it tucked gingerly between your fingers as you shift your weight to your other leg and bump your hip up against Bakugou’s. “Come on, asshole. Let’s go before you give Iida a conniption.”

“Whatever,” he grumbles back, still glaring off into the distance. Bakugou tenses suddenly, and you glance at him curiously, brows furrowing when you see his wide eyes. You follow his gaze further down the beach, but can’t find anything that might have caught his attention. There’s nothing down there but craggly rocks leading further out into the water, the kind people dare their friends to walk across in weather like this. 

Dread crawls into your chest, and, sure enough, Bakugou calls out, “Hold on,” before taking off down the beach, heading right for the rocks.

Kirishima reacts first, clearly exasperated as he shouts, “Bakugou! Bro, come back!” and jogs over to where you’re standing. Salt water splashes your bare legs, soaking the right left side of your shorts as Kirishima accidentally kicks water at you.

And Midoriya isn’t far behind, coming to stand on Kirishima’s other side. “Kacchan, wait!” he calls after the other boy, caught somewhere between worried and annoyed.

“Bakugou, come back here this instant!” Iida shouts, already stomping across the sand after the other boy. He looks less than threatening in his oversized raincoat and boots covered in multicolored polka-dots (a gift from Ochako), and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing as his boot sticks in the sand and nearly trips him. “This is not following storm protocol!”

Dropping your empty bucket onto the ground just out of the waters reach, you glare at Bakugou’s retreating form, lips pursed. “I’ll get him,” you tell the others, not waiting for a response before you jog after him, racing right past Iida. Out of the five of you, you’re probably the one with the greatest chance of getting Bakugou to come back quietly. Kirishima could do it, but he could also be easily swayed into doing the stupid thing, too, and you really don’t want to see Iida blow a gasket tonight.

The wet sand sucks at your feet with each step, making it hard to run, and Bakugou disappears over the rocks before you can catch him, but that doesn’t stop you.

“Bakugou,” you shout, climbing up onto the rocks after him. The stone is rough beneath your bare feet, but any sharp edges have been weathered away by the ocean currents. Spiky, blond hair catches your eye as you scramble to the top of the rocks. He’s down lower, closer to the open water, where the waves are bigger, stronger, a little wild from the brimming storm. “Bakugou, slow down, what are you doing?” You follow a careful distance behind him, unwilling to risk slipping into the water.

“Shut up!” he calls back, loud over the sloshing waves. “I thought I saw something.”

You roll your eyes and slide down the other side of the rock, struggling to keep up with him. “Saw something?” you repeat, half-mocking him. “Like what?” There’s nothing out here but water and whatever fish were unlucky enough to get caught in the currents and forced this close to shore. When he doesn’t reply, you huff, pausing in your climb to brush dirt from your legs. “Come on, Iida’s right, we need to get off the beach before--” You cut off with a choked sound as you’re left facing the empty ocean where he was just standing. 

Breath catching, your heart plummets, causing your stomach to churn as you take another step forward. “Bakugou?” you call out, hesitant, and the stirring wind sweeps your voice out to sea. Nothing. Your throat grows tighter, and your chest grows cold, icy fingers slotting against your ribs and squeezing until you can’t breathe. “Bakugou!”

You scramble down the side of the rock, but stop before you reach the edge, legs frozen. If Bakugou slipped and the current took him, it could just as easily rip you down as well. Shit. You need to get Iida. Or call Masaki. Or an ambulance. If Bakugou hit his head--

Hands grab you from behind, latching onto your waist and yanking you back against a firm chest, and you scream, throwing up your hands in shock.

A familiar snicker reaches your ears, and you drive your elbow back into Bakugou’s chest, satisfaction rushing through you when he grunts in discomfort and lets you go. “Asshole!” you snap, whirling around to glare at him. The rocks are slippery beneath you, but you don’t even care, too pissed at his shitty prank to think about anything else.

Bakugou smirks. “You should have seen your face,” he tells you, struggling to hold in his laughter.

For a second, you consider pushing him into the water and leaving him there, but decide the murder charges wouldn’t be worth it. Besides, you’re too relieved that he isn’t drowning in the ocean to really be mad right now. You’re definitely drawing dicks on his face with markers tonight though. “Don’t do that,” you whine. “Ugh, you’re such an ass sometimes. What was the point of that?”

He shrugs, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Wanted to piss off four-eyes,” he says, making you roll your eyes again. Of course, that would be it. Barely sparing you a glance, he turns around and starts climbing back up to the otherside of the rock. “Come on, squirt, let’s go home.”

Huffing, you glare at his back, hands curling into fists at your sides. Your eyes widen. “Shit,” you hiss, twisting on your heel to look down at the rocks, searching for a spot of color against the grey stones.

Bakugou pauses at the top of the rock, glancing over his shoulder at you. “What?” 

“The sea glass!” you tell him, taking a step closer to the water. “I dropped it.” Dammit, you should have left it back with the others, or in the bucket. At the very least, you should have put it in your pocket instead of holding onto it this whole time. You should know better than that.

A groan comes from behind you. “Just leave it,” Bakugou tells you, clearly exasperated with your concern over a stupid piece of glass. “You’ll find more later!”

The nasty look you throw him over your shoulder shuts him up. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t obnoxious,” you remind him, seeing him wince. Yeah, you’ll definitely be holding this over him for a while, you think, watching as he lowers himself onto the rock and sits down, waiting for you. “Plus, it was turquoise glass, Bakugou! That’s not easy to find!” And there, a flash of blue-green on the ground, just inches from being swept away by the waves lapping at the side of the rock. “I see it!” you call over to him, gingerly walking towards the edge.

“Fuck. Fine! Grab your stupid glass and let’s go!”

Not responding, you crouch, reaching for the glass. It’s smooth against your fingers, wet from the water, and you cradle it in your palm again, holding it tightly. A shallow breath leaves you, relief curling outwards from your chest as you rise back to your feet and turn back to Bakugou.

But then something goes wrong. The rocks are too wet from the waves, and you’re too close to the edge, still jittery from Bakugou scaring you. It’s like your legs are ripped out from beneath you, and all you see are Bakugou’s eyes, wide and terrified, before you’re plunged beneath the water.

The rip current grabs you before you can kick your legs or move your arms, and salt water chokes you, rushing down your throat and nose. There’s no time to brace yourself for the impact and hold your breath like Masaki always taught you to. Waves thrash you from all sides, dragging you down. A shadow moves above the water, Bakugou reaching for you, but you’re ripped away before he can plunge his arms in after you. 

It’s too dark to see anything more than shadows beneath the water, and the salt stings your eyes, but you can’t close them. Your lungs burn, threatening to burst as a shrill sound rings through your skull. More saltwater tries to escape down your throat; your vision blurs, spots dancing across your vision, like stars or snowflakes. A strange feeling overtakes you. Weightlessness. And you let it wrap around you like a vice, a fist wrapped around your neck and squeezing. Your fingers unfurl from the fist you’ve made.

Sea glass slips through your grasp, turquoise swallowed up by the ocean before the waves return to devouring you.

Something moves in the water in front of you, a shadow. You follow it with your eyes, a repeating pattern of red and white crossing your vision before disappearing just as quickly. A fish. But it’s too big. Too long. Too warm as it brushes against your bare legs. Fingertips press against your cheek, warm and gone in an instant. There’s someone in the water with you, Bakugou, maybe, or Iida, you can’t tell. 

Before the water can drag you down further, hands grasp at your arm, your waist, your hip, finding purchase where you can’t slip away. Your hair floats around you in dark tendrils from the water, and through the hazy warmth settling around you, you find a pair of eyes staring back at you. Mismatched silver and turquoise would steal your breath if your lungs weren’t already screaming.

You inhale; the darkness swallows you whole.

XXX

You drown. At least, you should.

Pressure builds in your lungs, and you choke on it, wheezing and coughing. You lurch, rolling sideways as seawater burns your throat, and vomit on the sand, water and bile mixed together. Everything tastes like salt, and the raindrops sting your eyes when you try to open them. Pain laces through the back of your skull, and there are hands on your back and face and arms, grasping like they’re afraid you’ll be swept away again. Warm fingers brush against your cheek, brushing away the hair sticking to your lips. Someone is speaking to you, but the sound is far away and muffled like you’re underwater. 

The hands on your cheeks force your head up, and through red-rimmed eyes you catch sight of your cousin Masaki leaning over you, talking to you before he turns and shouts at someone else. There’s a desperate look in his eyes, but it calms when he looks at you. His chestnut colored hair and blue sweatshirt are soaked through from the rain, and it must be freezing, but he smiles down at you.

“Hey, kiddo,” you faintly hear through the rain and your fogged head. He strokes your hair, pulling you closer to his chest as you start to shake and sob. “You’re going to be okay,” he tells you, lips pressed against your temple. “You’re okay.”

Everything blurs together after that. You think you see Ochako standing somewhere behind Masaki, trembling with tears in her eyes as she stands between Midoriya and Kirishima. Midoriya’s hands are shaking, his arms hanging limp at his sides with shock, but Kirishima has his arms wrapped around Ochako, and his mouth is moving like he’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. Iida is behind them. His raincoat is gone. So are his glasses.

Red light flickers across the sand. Blinking on and off.

Your gaze slides sideways and lands on Bakugou, kneeling on Masaki’s other side. He’s shaking like you, hair plastered to his forehead and clothes drenched like he tried to jump in after you. Bloodshot, carmine eyes meet yours, and a shuddering breath tumbles from his mouth. His lips move, repeating the same thing over and over and over.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Warm hands scoop you off the ground, ripping you away from Masaki, and he lets them take you, following on shaking legs. A smooth object slips from between your numb fingers and falls silently onto the sand. Masaki doesn’t notice, right on the heels of the paramedics taking you away. Bakugou does.

The sea glass is bright against the damp ground, a pretty dash of color against the storm.

Heart lurching, he scoops it up, wet sand spilling from between his fingers as he races down the beach to where his car is sitting idle.

XXX

When you wake up again, you’re in an unfamiliar room, beige walls and an open window letting in the sunshine. The panic that wells in your chest is instant, the phantom feeling of saltwater rushing down your throat makes you choke, sputtering, and Masaki’s head snaps up from where he’s been bent over in his chair for hours now. The phone he was holding clatters to the floor, a text unsent. 

He’s slow when he reaches for you, like he’s afraid to touch you, and a wet sound tears from your chest as his hand lands on your upper arm, rubbing gently as you heave, lungs trying to dispel water that isn’t there. The hospital bed dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you, and blindly you reach for his hand, squeezing his fingers between yours once you latch on. His other arm moves from your shoulder, curling around your back, and he pulls you against his chest just like he did last night.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he tells you, low and soft as his thumb draws circles against your back. “Deep breaths.” The soothing motion of his hand slows your racing heart , tempo slowing to match with his as your breathing evens out. He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

And then your eyes begin to wander.

The hospital room is as bare as you expected, but warm, and with Masaki here, it might as well be home. His blue sweatshirt is tossed over the back of the chair he was sitting in. He must not have left last night. Hurriedly, you look away from the old sweatshirt, a heavy feeling settling over you. A bright flash of color catches your eyes, and you latch onto it. Pink and yellow flowers sit idle in a glass vase. You don’t recognize the type, but the sight makes a small smile tug at the edge of your lips. If you had to guess, it was Ochako who sent them. Or maybe Midoriya. 

There’s a plastic bucket sitting on the table next to your bed, beside the flowers. It’s the same one you were using last night. The one you’ve had since you were a kid. Sitting up like this, it’s easy to see inside. The bucket is filled nearly to the brim--sea glass, shells, smooth rocks, things that must have washed ashore after the storm.

Masaki follows your gaze. “Midoriya’s mom dropped off the flowers on her way to work. And Bakugou and Kirishima brought the bucket a little while ago. Thought you’d like to pick through what they found.” Your heart squeezes in your chest. They must have been out there for hours, picking the beach clean before the sun was finished rising. 

You want to ask where they are now, but bite your lip, still staring at the bucket. Masaki seems to understand your silence, and he squeezes you a little bit tighter. “They went to pick up the others,” he tells you, rubbing your back. “They all wanted to be here when you woke up. We were all pretty worried.”

Something inside you snaps at the information. Your hands clench in the back of his shirt, a raw and ragged sound ripping from somewhere deep in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice muffled against his shoulder. Ice churns in your stomach, bubbling uncomfortably inside of you. You could have died last night. Maybe you did. Water that isn’t there sloshes inside your lungs, and your mouth opens with a wet crackling sound. “I shouldn’t have--”

The stern, but surprisingly soft tone that Masaki uses makes you choke up. “Hey,” he coos, leaning back just enough to look at you, dark eyes gentle and familiar. “Don’t apologize to me, okay? Accidents happen. The storm came in faster than you could have known.” 

Silently, you search his eyes, looking for a reprimand, or anger, but there’s nothing there but overwhelming relief, and when Masaki wraps his arm back around you, you fall against him willingly, boneless and gasping for breath. He doesn’t say a word, just lets you cry and shake until the tremors disappear and leave you exhausted and numb. At some point, you close your eyes, sinking into his warm embrace, nose buried against his collar. He smells like saltwater, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The two of you stay like that for a long time, only breaking apart when a doctor comes in to check on you. It could have been worse, is what she tells you. They drained more water from your lungs overnight, and two of your ribs are cracked from the CPR, but there are no other external injuries. A miracle, the doctor tells you, checking your vitals. With the storm, you’re lucky you didn’t hit your head on the rocks. You’ll make a full recovery.

You were lucky to wash ashore where you did. Where Masaki found you as soon as he came tearing down the beach after Iida called him, telling your cousin that you fell into the water and Bakugou couldn’t find you. You were lucky that the rip current didn’t pull you out further into the water like it should have.

You’re lucky to be alive.

After she leaves, you and Masaki sit in silence for a while. He moves back to his chair beside your bed, picks up his phone. You don’t know who he’s texting, but their response pulls a crooked smile out of your cousin, and you match it with one of your own. There’s a slight pain in your chest, and your breaths come in short, wheezing gasps, but that’s normal. It’ll go away.

It isn’t long before your friends arrive, the five of them squeezing into the room together, though you know there’s a visitor limit of two at a time, and Masaki is already here. You’re sure Kirishima and Ochako came up with some excuse to get them all in here, and your smile widens at the thought. Even Iida, always a stickler for the rules, walks stiffly into the room behind everyone else, practically standing guard at the door.

They take turns hugging you, asking how you feel, voices gentle, careful, like you might just crack under their touch. But you don’t. You grip Kirishima back just as tightly as he squeezes you, and the pain in your ribs is worth it. They look worse than you, and you tell them as much. Iida frowns at you from behind a pair of old glasses that are held together with tape, and Kirishima runs his hand through his loose hair, bandana the only thing keeping the red strands out of his eyes.

Bakugou shifts his weight from one leg to the other. His jaw is clenched tightly, his hands curled into fists, and his eyes are still rimmed in red, like he didn’t sleep last night. “Here,” he grumbles, holding out his hand. You hesitate to reach for it, brows knitting together, but your confusion melts away as Bakugou drops a small object into your open palm.

Turquoise sea glass glints beneath the overhead lights, frosted surface smooth against your skin. Your eyes widen, lips parting in a silent question, but Bakugou only shoves his hands into his packets and looks away. You brush your thumb against the curved edge, staring down at the piece of glass in wonder. How you still have it is beyond you. It should have been lost in the water. Your hand stills as it reaches the pointed tip of the teardrop, a silver chain winding around your finger.

“Bakugou and I asked Kaibara to drill a hole in it,” Kirishima speaks up from beside him, a sheepish look crossing his features as he rubs the back of his head. “We, uh, we figured maybe you could wear it, y’know? Like a necklace?” 

“Thanks, guys.” You try for a smile, but it comes out watery, a little forced. None of them comment on it. 

Midoriya is quiet when he asks, “How much do you remember?” The question plunges the room into silence, and Bakugou glares at the other boy, bristling, but Ochako is wedged between them, so he settles for clenching his fists and sneering.

“All of it,” you whisper, playing with the sea glass necklace that Bakugou and Kirishima gave to you. You don’t tell them about the turquoise and silver eyes you saw in the water.

XXX

It’s a week before Masaki lets you out of the house alone. You have a check-up at the hospital four days after your near-drowning to make sure your lungs are clear and there’s no infection setting in, and your clean bill of health and pleading gaze reassure him enough to leave you home alone for the day while he goes into work--a paramedic for the local fire department. 

You’re half-asleep on the couch when he leaves. The fractures in your ribs keep you awake, but the pain medication makes you groggy and irritable, so either way, you don’t win. The sun isn’t up yet, and Masaki leans over the back of the couch to tousle your hair and murmur a quiet goodbye, letting you know that Bakugou and Midoriya will be stopping by later in the afternoon to keep you company. He won’t be home until tomorrow morning, a twenty-four hour shift.

The response you give is muffled, slurred, and your eyes slip shut as your cousin’s fluffy cat hops onto the couch beside you, curling up against the backs of your knees. One last squeeze of your shoulder is all you feel before you drift off again, hazy thoughts dragging you under as the front door locks behind him.

You aren’t asleep for long. The cat walks across your side, paws digging into a tender spot between two ribs, and you jolt as an aching pain builds inside your chest. The discomfort makes you wheeze, and you wince, shooing away the whiskers that tickle your cheek. The cat jumps onto the floor, the bell on his collar jingling as he pads across the floor and disappears into the other room.

You roll onto your back, wincing as the motion jostles your bruised ribs. You should probably ice them again. Huffing, you glance towards the kitchen where Masaki’s cat is probably sitting on the counters, knowing you won’t be able to get him down with your current predicament. That’s the last thing you want to deal with right now. You don’t want to be here right now. It’s for your own good. You need to rest and heal.

But you’re tired of lying around at home, having nothing to do but sleep and recover and spend too much time lost in your own head as you try to remember every detail of what happened that night. You can’t forget those eyes no matter how hard you try, and the thought of them makes a slow shiver roll down your spine.

Growing up this close to the ocean, you’ve heard all the stories. The local legends meant to scare small children away from the water after dark or amuse the tourists that flock to the beaches during the summer season. Ningyo. Mermaids. They’re just myths, and yet you swear you saw something--someone--in the water that night. Even now, you can’t shake the feeling of warm hands on your skin, red and white blurring your vision.

A hallucination, probably. A figment of your imagination summoned by the lack of oxygen in your lungs as it slowly started to affect your brain. And yet.

Your hand drifts to your chest, where the sea glass pendant is resting against the mottled bruises spreading across your skin like an ugly watercolor painting, purple and black in places from hands forcing your lungs to expand, to expel the seawater you swallowed. They’ve started to yellow at the edges already, but it doesn’t make them any less sickening to look at, and you know your friends keep staring at them, a violent reminder of what could have happened. Your thumb drags against the side of the smooth glass. You should have lost it in the water. There’s no possible way it should have washed up on the beach beside you, not during a storm like that, not when you’re so sure that you’d already let it go before the water rushed down your throat.

Even though you know Masaki will be pissed about it later, you grab your phone and house keys off the coffee table and roll off the couch. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you head for the front door. You slip on your sandals, and then you’re gone.

You wind up at the beach. Somehow, that’s where you always end up.

It’s early, and almost eerily quiet. The sun is barely rising over the horizon, bathing the crystalline sea water in golden light and causing the ocean to shift between shades of teal and frothy aquamarine. You’re half-heartedly combing the beach for more sea glass, bare feet sinking into the sand as you search for even the faintest glint of color against the damp ground, following the familiar path you always take across the beach. The tide is low, waves lapping at the shore. And you’re the only one here.

Why the hell did you come here? Your lips curve into a frown as you make your way to the other end of the beach, gaze drifting across the ocean until you catch sight of the rocks leading out into the water. Somewhere in the back of your mind you can picture Bakugou’s back disappearing over the side of the rock, and you follow the same path as you did the week before. 

The rocks are rough beneath your feet, but dry this time, the early morning sun causing the water to evaporate, leaving the surface warm against your skin. The next thing you know, you’re sitting on the edge of the rock, legs stretched out in front of you as you recline back on your hands, eyes on the horizon across the water. It’s quiet out here, the gentle crash of waves the only sound for miles.

You dip your feet into the ocean and flinch, shivers wracking your body as the icy water laps at your toes.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” 

The sudden voice makes your eyes snap open, panic seizing you when you realize you’ve been caught. Your first thought is Bakugou and Midoriya, but the voice is too deep and too calm. A little dazed, your head lolls to the side, and a striking pair of mismatched eyes lock onto your own. Your breath catches in your throat, your limbs stiffening under the unexpected stare.

There’s a young man in the water, no older than you, and you stare back at him curiously, taking in what little of him you can see above the water. His hair is unusual, red and white split right down the middle, and it looks too soft and smooth for being so wet. There’s a scar covering his left eye, red and angry, but you look right past it, silver and turquoise stealing your attention.

The sea glass pendant in your hand slips between your fingers and bounces off your collarbone. He follows the motion with his eyes, latching onto the dark bruise peaking out just above the neck of your shirt. A grimace twists his mouth before his features become carefully blank.

When you don’t respond, he sighs. “It’s not safe this far out on the rocks,” he says, a flicker of irritation in his gaze. “You could drown.” The edge of his mouth twitches. “Again.”

The single word punches straight through your chest. You flinch, curling in on yourself, and for a second he looks almost apologetic, but the stern glint in his eyes doesn’t disappear. “How…” You stop yourself, a question on the tip of your tongue. It shouldn’t be real, none of it, and yet your eyes wander down what little of his neck and shoulders you can see, and he’s just out of reach, close enough for you to lean over and touch if you really tried. He stares at you, waiting, but not patiently. “I saw you that night,” you tell him slowly, carefully, just in case this really is a dream or drug induced hallucination. “In the water.”

His head tilts to one side, but he doesn’t deny it.

The lack of response makes your fingers curl against the rock. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip. “Thank you.”

His voice is deep and warm when he speaks again. “You’re welcome…” The sentence trails off awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to call the other. 

You sit up slowly, unfurling your legs so that your legs are dangling in the ocean again, deeper this time, the water reaching almost to your knees. The sun is brighter now, the glare from the light making it hard to see beneath the crystal water. All you can make out is a dark mass moving beneath the surface. Not legs. Something else.

He’s busy staring at you too, eyes drifting to your bare legs as his brows furrow, though they snap up to your face when you call out to him. Bemusement creeps into his features. “My name,” you clarify, offering him a small smile.

A clicking sound leaves the back of his throat. “Isn’t that rather informal?” he asks you, eyes narrowing.

The laughter that bubbles up from your throat is high-pitched, almost nervous. Here you are, talking to someone that you suspect isn’t human, and he’s worried about propriety. It’s a wonder you aren’t panicking right now, but it’s not like you weren’t expecting this somewhere in the back of your mind. And the painkillers make everything just a little bit foggy, a little bit easier to digest. “You saved my life. I don’t really care about formality.”

“I see.” And then he repeats your name, slowly, seeming to like the way it rolls off his tongue. He swims a little closer to the rock formation you’re resting on, mindful of your legs. One of his hands rises from the water, gripping the stone just inches from your soft skin. His fingers are long, clawed at the tips, and your breath hitches as they dig into the rock, allowing him to pull himself part way out of the water. “Shouto,” he says. This close, you can see that his teeth are sharp, filed into wicked fangs. “My name,” he adds, something like amusement swimming in the depths of his eyes.

“Nice to meet you.” Again, you think, by don’t say. A strange feeling tickles at the base of your spine, but you ignore it,  simply trying to process what’s happening.

Shouto blinks at you, frowning again, and then his gaze slides sideways to the empty beach, expression pensive. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, without thinking. Because why the hell did you come here? Why did you come back to the beach this quickly? To the spot where you slipped and the current dragged you down with violent intentions. Maybe you needed to prove to yourself that you aren’t afraid. Maybe you’re just stubborn. It doesn’t really matter either way.

Your gaze drops to the ocean, and you’re only half surprised by what you find there.

A red mass curls just beneath the water, and something warm and smooth brushes against your leg. Through the gentle rise and fall of the waves, you see what must be his tail: red, white, and black stripes a clear warning for anyone that might dare to cross him. Like the bright patterns of tropical fish, so alluring, masking the danger lurking just below the surface. And he’s no different. Thinner, barbed spines flare in the water behind him, carefully angled away from you, but that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning. 

“Aren’t you afraid?” he asks, staring at the pendant around your neck. The sea glass is the same shade of blue as his left eye, and it’s inexplicably warm against your breast. 

The question makes you pause, and your eyes leave the beautiful and deadly display of delicate fins and wicked spines below the water, but he doesn’t clarify any further. Of him? The water? Drowning again? You don’t have an answer. “Should I be?” you counter, eyes finding his once more.

His head snaps away again, back to the beach, and a sound caught halfway between a hiss and a growl slips from his mouth. You follow his eyes, surprised to see a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. The driver side door is thrown open, a head of blond hair lunging out of the front seat.

“You shouldn’t play in the water,” Shouto tells you, and you turn in time to watch him shove away from the rock. He glances at you one last time before twisting around in the water and disappearing beneath the waves.

The next morning, when Masaki comes home, he finds you on the couch where he left you, curled up on your side with his cat sleeping against your stomach and purring. You don’t move at all as he shuts the door, toeing off his shoes before stepping further into the room.

“You awake?” he murmurs, leaning over the back of the couch to look at you. His hand brushes against your temple, feeling for a temperature, and you jolt at the contact, half-lidded eyes snapping open.

You tilt your head just enough to look at him, looking him over for any cuts or bruises as well. “Yeah.”

Masaki strokes your hair away from your face, and his stern look makes you giggle. He’s never been much of an authority figure for you, not that much older than you are, but he’s always tried his best to take care of you. “Everything okay, yesterday?” he asks. “I missed a call from Midoriya, but it must have been an accident.” His mouth curves down. “I was a little worried,” he admits. “And sorry I didn’t call last night, we were pretty busy.”

“It’s okay. Everything was fine,” you promise, his concern making your heart lurch. “Missed you,” you add, already falling back asleep. Briefly, your thoughts drift to your trip to the beach, and Shouto, but it slips away from you like smoke as he pats your head, and when you wake up again, you know you can’t tell him where you went. It would only make him worry.

XXX

You keep going back to the beach.

Not often, at first. Once a week, at best. It was hard to sneak out when Bakugou and Midoriya began hovering over you, acting like your shadow whenever you left the house. You knew they were only upset and worried. 

Even months later, Bakugou still blames himself for the accident, and though you aren’t afraid of the water, you know that a small part of him is terrified for you. Both boys were in a panic when they found you out on the rocks, and while Midoriya was concerned and understanding, Bakugou was harsh, nearly screaming at you. You can’t blame either of them.

But that doesn’t stop you from going back. It’s easier to slip out before sunrise, after Masaki leaves for work or just before his shift is over. He’s still protective too, watchful, but he trusts you. You talked Bakugou into keeping your first trip to the beach a secret. He wasn’t happy about it, but he caved under your pleading eyes and your promise to owe him a favor in the future.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see Shouto again, sure he would never come back once you realized what he was, or sure that it was a hallucination after all, some figment of your imagination conjured up to process a traumatic situation.

So you were shocked when, two weeks after the first time you really met, he appeared in the water soon after you arrived at the rocks, as if he was already there waiting for you. The conversation was as stilted as the last and about nothing at all. At least, at first. Eventually, he told you how he found you, how the storm pushed him closer to shore than he meant to be. It was only a coincidence that he spotted you in the water, the waves thrashing you around violently. He didn’t have to help you, but he did, grabbing you before the current could rip you away and dragging you back to shore.

One month bleeds into two, and somewhere in between you’ve become friends with Shouto, or, as close to friends as you can be with a creature that isn’t supposed to exist. Neither of you talk about it, but the time you spend together is comfortable, easy. You see him most days, now. Usually in the morning, still, but sometimes you come out at dusk to watch the sunset on the water, liking the way the colors burst across the sky in shades of red and violet. It isn’t often, though. Shouto hasn’t said it aloud, but you know he doesn’t like you walking back to shore at night, when the rocks are slippery and you only have the moonlight to guide you home.

Today is an early morning visit that’s bled into early afternoon. Tourist season is over, and the beach is surprisingly clear for such a nice day. Your conversation with Shouto has lapsed into comfortable silence, with you flipping through an old library book and reclining back against a flat rock further into the water than you usually go.

You flip to the next page, frowning at the crude drawing of a mermaid. Not bothering to read the text, you close the book with a snap. Slowly, you stretch out on the rock you’ve been lying on, sitting up as you set your book aside. Beside you, Shouto cracks open a turquoise eye as he feels you move, tail lazily swishing in the water as he suns himself. His brows furrow when he finds you staring at his hip where the paler skin of his torso melds into the smoother, slippery texture of his lower-half. You’re looking at the bright pattern of his tail with a inquisitive expression he’s never seen before, and his skin begins to feel hot and itchy, like he’s been in the sun for too long.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shifting his arms beneath his head to look at you with both eyes, a small frown tugging at his lips.

Startled, your eyes snap up to meet his, a flush creeping up your neck. Hopefully he doesn’t notice. “Nothing,” you’re quick to tell him, dismissing the thought that crossed your mind. You haven’t known him long, and you aren’t sure it’s appropriate to ask. Still, you find your mouth moving without permission. “I just…” Shake your head, you loop your arms around your legs and pull them to your chest. You cast another curious glance towards his tail. “Can I…?” 

He’s confused until you gesture with your fingers towards his tail. Shouto tenses, muscles flexing beneath his skin as he eyes you warily, jaw clenched. In the water, his tail flicks, twitching like an irritated cat. Then, he stills, relaxing slowly against the rock. He drops his head back to his folded arms, but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“Stay away from the spines,” he tells you firmly, watching as you reach forward, fingers outstretched to touch him. The first brush of your fingertips makes him tense again, and he holds his breath as you ghost your hand from the pale skin over his hip to the jagged pattern of red and white stripes on his tail.

The texture makes you hum, smooth and a bit slippery. There are no scales like you expected, like movies and fairy tales led you to believe, only skin like that of a dolphin or whale. “You’re part lionfish,” you note, tracing one of the red stripes cutting across his tail. “I looked it up,” you add as he glances up at you, one eyebrow quirked towards his hairline. “Are you venomous, too?”

He stiffens again as your fingers move closer to one of the spines jutting from his fins, holding his breath until you move away just as quickly. For a minute, he remains quiet, letting you touch him. “Yes,” he says, voice strained. “But I’m not part fish, technically.”

You glance away from his multi-colored fins to meet his eyes. “So you’re a mammal then?” That makes sense. He’s almost entirely human from the waist up, aside from his teeth and claws, but you’re still stuck on the concept of fish-people. Kirishima would love to be hearing all of this. He’s always been fascinated with mermaids and ocean life. You can only imagine the expression on his face if he found out who you’ve been talking to for the last few weeks, and the thought makes your lips twitch in amusement. 

Shouto misses your smile, eyes locked on your hand as you absentmindedly stroke his flank. “We need to breathe air,” he confirms. “Just not often.” His brows furrow. “Maybe twice per hour if we need to stay submerged, but it doesn’t hurt us to stay above water like this.”

“That makes sense.” You pause over a dark burgundy stripe, wetting your lips. “So why this coloring? Most sea mammals aren’t this brightly colored.”

This time, he shrugs, eyes closing as your blunt fingernail drags against his side. “We all look different. Some of us have spines. Others have tails like sharks, or whales. I don’t know why.” You remain silent, and Shouto cracks open his eyes to look at you again. His tongue slides across his lower lip. “My mother has the fins of a butterfly koi, my father a lionfish.”

Your touch moves to another stripe, white this time. “So you take after him?”

The phrasing makes him frown, but he nods. “I look like him,” he tells you.

“I see. And how venomous are you?” You did some research about lionfish venom. Vomiting. Fever. Convulsions. Temporary paralysis in some unlucky people. Rarely death unless an allergic reaction occurs. It isn’t pretty, but it could certainly be worse.

Unintentionally, your hand wanders back to his hip, where a series of sharp barbs are jutting from his skin.

Shouto grabs your wrist just before your fingers reach the underside of one of his spines. His grip is firm, but gentle, and you shiver when his claws graze the inside of your arm. “I’m a lot bigger than a fish,” is his sharp reminder, and your eyes snap to his. The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to say more, but he only moves your hand to his back instead, inches from his tail. His tail flicks in the water again now that you aren’t near his spines. “What have you been reading?” he asks abruptly, gesturing with his head to the book you set aside.

You pull your hand from his side, twisting around to reach for the book, and don’t see the way his lips curve down. “Some old legends about you,” you explain, shifting so that you’re facing him as you tuck your legs beneath you. “Merpeople, I mean.”

“Oh?” he muses, quirking a brow as he glances from you to the book. “Like what?”

A sly smile crosses your face as you remember one version of the story you read. “Nothing much.” The book’s leather spine is rough against the tip of your finger. “Just that mermen like to come ashore and seduce young women.” Leaning in close to him, you almost burst into giggles at the wide-eyed look he throws you. “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Shouto?” you ask him, voice barely above a whisper.

He freezes, the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing. The sharp spines on his tail flex, and his claws dig into the rock beneath him. Shouto is completely rigid, puffed up, his eyes wide as his pupils narrow into slits like a cat. For a second, his gaze is almost predatory before it slips into something more akin to alarm. It’s not at all what you were expecting from him.

“You’re teasing me,” he realizes a moment later, pupils dilating once more. His tail twitches, his spines returning to a more relaxed position. Shouto takes a deep breath, shaking his head as a giggle finally slips from your mouth. “You shouldn’t do that,” he says, sending you a mock glare, though, he’s unable to hide the upwards tick of his lips.

Laughing, you stretch out your leg, prodding the side of his ribcage with your toes. Shouto seizes your ankle before you can pull away, and this time you feel the sharp points of his claws against you, a playful warning more than a threat. “Well, it’s not true, is it?” you joke to cover the faint hitch in your breathing. The hold he has on you is light and incredibly careful, but your pulse still races at the contact.

The grip he has on your ankle tightens just a fraction. He braces his free hand on the rock, using it for leverage as he rises off the ground, eye-level with you. “What if it was?” he asks, voice lower than usual, deeper. His head tilts to the side, his gaze magnetic as he draws your leg closer to his chest. The palm of his hand creeps towards your calf. Luring you in. 

“Now who’s teasing?” you joke, giggling again, the pitch just a little higher than usual--a little nervous. Shouto must notice, because he snatches his hand away from you like he’s been burned. His claws scrape against the rock as you pull your leg back towards your chest, wetting your lips. “Would you…” you trail off, and his eyes snap to meet yours. “Would you tell me more? About you?”

He shuffles on the rocks, propping himself up with his hands and moving most of his weight to his tail, almost mirroring you. Silently, he opens his mouth, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “What would you like to know?” he eventually asks.

“Everything.” Looking out over the water, your fingers absentmindedly brush against your collarbone before you grab the pendant around your neck. Shouto follows your hand with his eyes, lingering on the space above the low collar of your shirt where your bruises have finally disappeared. It doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore.

“Okay,” he agrees, watching you caress the sea glass around your throat.

And he does, tell you everything. Bits and pieces about his culture and his family. Shouto explains that there are two types of merfolk, those born like him and those created from seafoam and lost souls, drowned sailors brought back by the sea god Ryujin, a great dragon who controls the tides. He tells you about his mother, a gentle soul that’s as fascinated by those on the land as her son, and his father, who he only mentions in passing, but the curl of his lip says more than he ever could. He has a sister, Fuyumi, and two brothers, Natsuo and Touya, though the latter has been lost for some time. Families travel in pods, sometimes migrating across the oceans, but his has stayed in the area for generations. According to Shouto, there are several families in the nearby waters, though most don’t travel this close to the shore.

He tells you a story about Ryujin. How the sea god controls the tides with a pair of glittering jewels and how one of the gems was cracked, broken fragments swept away by the ocean. His voice is low when he tells you how the merfolk that find these fragments are able to summon the god himself, and are granted a single wish.

You listen intently for what might be hours, only occasionally asking questions, jokingly wondering about the validity of certain fairy tales and myths. His nose wrinkles at the absurdity of most, but some make him pause like when you teased him earlier.

It isn’t until you get a text from Masaki asking when you’ll be home that you realize how long you’ve been there.

XXX

You should have known better than to think you could keep Shouto a secret for long, that your friends wouldn’t notice that you’ve been disappearing for hours at a time. None of them ask about where you go, chalking it up to trauma and processing what happened that night several months ago. They give you space until your ribs are healed and your smile isn’t tight at the edges.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn’t like you going to the beach by yourself. Iida would lecture you on taking proper safety measures if he knew; Bakugou would be pissed. You think Midoriya and Ochako would understand, even if they didn’t like it, and Kirishima would pin you with a puppy-eyed look until you caved and let him come with you. But how can you possibly explain to them that you’ve been going to the beach most days of the week to speak with a merman that saved you from drowning?

They wouldn’t believe you. Hell, you wouldn’t believe you either if you hadn’t been speaking with Shouto for months now. Despite your easy acceptance of merpeople, you have no way of knowing how your friends might react to the information, and that makes you nervous. Besides, it’s not your secret to tell. 

Eventually, sneaking around catches up to you. It’s early in the morning, your conversation with Shouto ending early because of the cars pulling into the lot down the beach. Soon there would be too many people in the water for him to be there without someone noticing him there, and Masaki is coming home from a double-shift and you want to be home to see him, so the two of you say your goodbyes and head off in opposite directions.

You’re just climbing over the last of the sea rocks, your sandals in hand and stupid grin on your face, when someone steps directly in front of you. Your eyes snap up, locking with an angry carmine gaze that makes your heart stop.

“Shit,” you say before you can stop yourself, stomach churning sickly at the glare you’re met with. Your sandals fall onto the sand, but you don’t bother to pick them up. Heart lurching, you don't move from where you’re half-crouched over the rocks, tense and a little nervous. Not because you’re afraid, but because you have no idea how to explain this.

A muscle jumps in Bakugou’s jaw as he clenches his teeth. There’s a hurricane behind his eyes, only tempered by the fact that you’re in front of him, okay, but that doesn’t stop his hands from shaking. “Your cousin called,” he tells you, voice tight with anger--real anger. Or hurt. He’s always loud, always yelling. It’s when he’s quiet like this that you know something is wrong “He came home early. Said he couldn’t find you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

You wince. Shit, you left your phone at home this morning. “Bakugou,” you start to say, but stop when he narrows his eyes.

“I lied for you,” he continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “He was worried, because you almost died a few months ago, and I told him you were with me, and you’d be home soon.” His hands curl into loose fists. “You wanna tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ here?” he asks, a low growl. “At the same fucking spot where you almost drowned?” When you open your mouth, but don’t respond, Bakugou releases a humorless laugh. “Get in the fucking car,” he demands, gesturing up the beach to where you can see the familiar vehicle waiting. You should have noticed it earlier.

The command makes you bristle, and you glare back at him, a retort already burning on the tip of your tongue, but the look in his eyes makes you feel sick again. Phantom pain laces across your ribs and crawls down your throat, and for a second you feel like you’re drowning all over again. 

Bakugou’s hand trembles as he drops it back to his side, and his breathing is heavier than normal, like he’s about to start crying, but his glare doesn’t soften at all.

You drop down onto the sand in front of him, leaving your sandals on the ground as you start walking across the beach. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou scoop them up, and he stays just a half-step behind you the entire way to the car. The sand is hot in the mid-morning sun and burns your toes, but you don't slow. If he’s going to lecture you, you’d much rather it be in his car than out here.

Climbing into the passenger seat, you keep your gaze locked out the window, refusing to look at your friend as he slides into the driver side. Bakugou closes the door harder than usual, and the sound makes you wince, surprised. Your eyes snap to him without meaning to, but he isn’t looking at you. Staring out the front window, Bakugou’s jaw is clenched tightly, his knuckles turning white from the grip he has on the wheel.

Sitting in silence, you wait for him to speak, or yell, or curse you out for making him worry--though he’d never admit it out loud--but the quiet persists to an unnerving degree. You’d expect this from Masaki, or even Iida. Not him. Not Bakugou. The only sound in the car is his slow breathing before he starts the car.

Neither of you speak on the drive back to your house. You have no idea what to tell him, and for once he seems set on keeping his mouth shut. This isn’t something you’ve ever had to deal with before, and that scares you a little. It feels delicate. A time bomb waiting to go off. Bakugou is a hand grenade, and you’ve already pulled the pin.

He parks outside of your house, but doesn’t turn off the car as he waits for you to leave. By the expression on his face, you know he’s not in the mood to talk--the mood to listen--but if you leave this car now, you know this will fester. Rot. And you can’t risk losing your best friend.

“I saw someone,” you blurt, shifting in your seat to face him. You pull your legs onto the seat, tucking them beneath you, and Bakugou’s eyes cut right through you. “That night, in the water,” you clarify, watching the way he stiffens in his seat, “I saw someone.”

His fingers clench around the wheel again as he looks away from you. “Mizushima, don’t--”

“Listen to me,” you snap, not even sure what you’re saying, all you know is that it hurts when he calls you by your last name instead of whatever shitty nickname he’s latched onto this week. “I should have died.” The assertion makes him tense, but you don’t stop there. “You know I should have died.” Your voice cracks on the last word, a lump in your throat. “And we both know the current wouldn’t have pulled me back that way. That’s not how it works. And this?” You grab the necklace you haven’t taken off since he and Kirishima handed it to you. Bakugou looks at you again, glancing at the sea glass that caused you so much trouble and so much joy all at once. “I dropped it in the water. I let go. I remember letting go.”

A part of you is pleading for him to understand, but he can’t. Not if you don’t tell him.

“I just--” You sink back against your seat, turning away from him to stare out the window. “I just needed to go back. I don’t know why--maybe because I was scared or I wanted to prove I wasn’t a fucking coward, but I just did.”

He’s close enough for you to hear him swallow, and beneath the hum of the engine you hear him ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t about you, Katsuki,” you tell him, an edge creeping into your tone. His head snaps up and around again, carmine eyes burning into the side of your face, and you sigh. “I needed to go there for me. And I didn’t need you there because I didn’t blame you for any of it.”

“Well I do,” he snaps, flinching like he didn’t mean to say it, but you’re staring at him now, and it’s too late to take it back. “We found you on the beach and I thought I fucking killed you because I had to act like a fucking asshole.” He cards his fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling at the spiky strands. “And then you fucking disappear and Deku and I find you on the goddamn rocks--” He stops abruptly, sucking in a sharp breath.

It clicks then. He isn’t angry. Not really anyway. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you tell him, barely a whisper.

“Who said I was scared, dumbass?” He huffs, and the insult makes you grin, but your expression sobers when he levels you with a firm stare. “You should have told me you were going out on the rocks,” he says. “I would have gone with you.” A flush creeps up his neck, and he looks away again. “Kirishima and Uraraka have been worried about you. How do you think they’d feel if you fucking slipped again and one of us wasn’t around? I don’t give a fuck if you need to think or figure some shit out, tell someone where you are.”

“I know,” you say, just as softly as before. The last thing you wanted was to worry them. “I’m sorry.”

Bakugou sighs and shuts off the car. “And?” he demands, stressing the single word.

You frown, brows furrowing. “What?”

“You said you saw someone in the water,” he says with a roll of his eyes, repeating what you told him a minute ago. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Right. It slipped out before you could stop it. You stare back at him, and Bakugou arches an expectant eyebrow. “I need to talk to you,” you tell him. “All of you. And I really need you to believe me.”

Predictably, telling your friends about the merman that saved your life doesn’t go over exceptionally well.

Iida is convinced you need a doctor. You’re almost positive that he would have thrown you over his shoulder and ran for the nearest hospital if Bakugou wasn’t standing beside you like a guard dog. He tells you exactly what you expect to hear, about hallucinations and near death experiences, how sometimes trauma makes people see things that aren’t really there. He’s blunt, but not unkind. Midoriya agrees with Iida, and seems almost apologetic for it, but doesn’t say much else from where he’s sitting cross-legged on your living room floor.

Ochako and Kirishima are slightly more accepting, though you think it’s mainly because they can see you’re getting frustrated, and sometimes that makes it hard for you to breathe.

Bakugou calls you an idiot, but not a liar, and that’s about as much as you expected coming from him.

So, you tell them you can prove it.

XXX

It takes a week for all of you to find a morning in your schedules when you’re free. Most of Iida’s classes are in the morning, and Kirishima works weekends, but you manage to make it work. You all drive down to the beach, the six of you squeezed into Bakugou’s car.

Ochako is still half-asleep when you make it to the beach, the sun barely beginning to rise, and Kirishima piggybacks her across the sand until you reach an achingly familiar set of rocks jutting out into the ocean. None of them look comfortable being here. The six of you have only been back to the beach a handful of times since your accident, and even then, you never got this close to the water.

Maybe they need this as much as you do. To everyone else it was a miracle that the current sent you back to shore, but Shouto? Shouto is real. Tangible. Undeniable proof that you’re okay, that it wasn’t sheer luck that the waves were merciful on you, because they weren’t. Somehow, he makes the situation easier for you to swallow.

“I can’t believe you losers talked me into this,” Bakugou grumbles behind you, as if you’re all still obnoxious teenagers instead of young adults. He’s been in a mood all morning, though you aren’t sure if it’s because he really thinks this is ridiculous, or if he’s nervous being back here. The last time he was near these rocks, he was too angry to think about anything else.

“You wanted me to prove it,” you remind him, glancing at him over your shoulder, eyes narrowing. “So I’m proving it.” They aren’t stopping you now that you’re already here.

Bakugou’s gaze darts to Ochako’s, and she gives him a nearly indiscreet nod, urging him to try again. They know that ganging up on you won’t work, but Bakugou has always had a way of talking sense into you. Unfortunately, that won’t work this time. “Come on,” he drawls, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts, expression nothing short of irritated. “This is fucking stupid.”

Another withering glare makes him snort and cross his arms, and you purse your lips. “You said you’d believe me,” you remind him, recalling his promise from that day in the car. Throwing his words back into his face is a low blow, and you know it, but right now you really don’t care.

“That was before you started talking about mermaids and shit,” Bakugou snaps, chest puffing up.

“Merman,” you correct him, knowing it’ll annoy him. The way he grits his teeth is satisfying in itself. “And be nice. I don’t need you scaring him away because you still haven’t figured out how to play well with others.”

Sighing, Iida steps forward. He’s dressed for the beach today, unlike the last time he was here. Aside from the lifesaver tossed over his shoulder, he looks like any other young adult frequenting the beaches in the area. If it was anyone but Iida, you’d think the precaution was mocking, but this is the man that carries a miniature first aid kit in his bag at all times. 

“Mizushima, if this is--”

“It’s not,” you snap at him, a little harsher than intended. The insinuation that this is nothing but a joke or prank is more grating each time one of them suggests it. “I’m pretty sure I haven’t been hallucinating for the last few months, but if I have been, I’m sure Katsuki won’t let me live it down.” You toss him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t you dare call my cousin, Iida!”

You don’t even want to think about how Masaki would react to all of this.

Iida looks like he’s about to say something else, but Kirishima interjects. “Come on, guys, lighten up!” He steps forward and tosses an arm around Bakugou’s neck, pulling the fuming blond down to his height. Bakugou doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t protest either. “So what if it’s just a prank? There’s no harm in her dragging us out here. I mean, it’s not like the rest of us had any plans today.” He offers you a sunny smile that you return with a hesitant one of your own. “Besides, it’s been awhile since we all got to come out here. Gotta say, I kind of missed it!” 

“Thanks, Kiri,” you whisper back, smiling just a bit wider when he throws you a thumbs up. 

His miniature speech only seems to placate Ochako, who links her hands in front of her and gives you a hesitant smile. Iida glances between you and the rocks dubiously, and Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. The only one who hasn’t said anything yet is Midoriya, which is unusual. At least he isn’t trying to talk you into leaving like Iida and Bakugou.

Suddenly, Ochako breaks away from the semi-circle your friends have positioned themselves in. She takes two steps toward you, pinning you with a fierce glare, and then her hands smack against either side of your face, squishing your cheeks. “You know this sounds completely crazy, right?” she asks you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, ignoring the curious looks of the boys as they stare at the two of you.

She nods. “And you know I love you anyway, right?”

It’s hard to smile with the way she’s squishing your cheeks, but you manage. “I do.” Ochako has always been your biggest supporter, ever since you were kids. Even if today is an utter disaster, you know she won’t judge you for it--at least, not for too long. You couldn’t ask for a better friend than that.

“Good,” she says, releasing you in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you dare fall in the water,” Ochako tells you. “Kiri can’t hold us both back if you do.” She means her and Bakugou, of course. The pair are certainly a force to be reckoned with, and you know you’ll have hell to pay if anything terrible happens. Ochako may look cute, but she can have a bit of a mean streak.

Either way, you nod, silently promising that everything will be okay. They’re all looking at you with a nervous flicker in their eyes, like they’re expecting you to slip and fall again, and the thought makes your stomach flip. You can almost feel the water rushing into your lungs. The sting of salt in your throat. “Just, wait here,” you say, stepping away from Ochako and swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Give me five minutes.”

“Three,” Bakugou tells you, crossing his arms. Beside him, Midoriya nods his agreement, hands curled into loose fists at his sides. “Like hell we’re gonna wait here for that long because you wanna be alone with your fish-man, or whatever.” You roll your eyes. “So get moving. And if you fall in the fucking water again, I’ll kill you myself.”

Midoriya, who had been nodding along with Bakugou, jolts at the threat. “Kacchan!” he yelps, green eyes wide with alarm.

Your lips twitch. “Noted.” Without another word, you twist around on your heel and pull yourself onto the rock, the grooves and sharp edges familiar beneath your bare feet. Your friends begin muttering to each other as you climb over the rock, but you don’t dare glance behind you. It’s still early, so the rocks are still damp beneath you. Though the water isn’t deep here, your skin still crawls at the thought of your head beneath water.

It doesn’t take long for you to reach your usual spot further out in the water, just out of sight of the shore. You can’t quite see your friends from here, and for a second that makes you nervous, but you take a deep breath, holding it in as your feet press against the surface of the flat rock the six of you can all sit on comfortably.

Slowly, your eyes scan the water’s surface, searching for a glimpse of red or white as you sink down onto the rock, kneeling just inches from the edge. You wet your lips, leaning forward to peer into the ocean. It’s hard to see anything with the sunlight reflecting on the surface, and you bite your lip as a faint pressure settles around your ribcage.

Maybe this was a mistake. You should have just lied to Bakugou again. That would have been easier than whatever the hell you think you’re doing now. You just had to be stubborn about this, but it would have been so much easier to drop the merman conversation and let them all think it was just some big joke. They’d never let you live it down, but you think you’d take that over the nervous fluttering of your heartbeat.

When the water ripples in front of you and a pair of mismatched eyes meet yours under the water, you feel like you can breathe again. You lean back, and Shouto follows you, head emerging from the water as his clawed fingers dig into the side of the rock, using it for leverage as he pulls his shoulders and chest from the water. A few of his spines breach the surface behind him, bright red beneath the sun, and this close you can see his tail swishing lazily in the water.

“Shouto,” you breathe, a tinge of relief palpable on the syllables of his name as they leave your tongue.

He shakes his head, splattering you with saltwater from his hair, and peers at you through his bangs, looking a cross between bored and annoyed. “You’re late,” he tells you, lips curved downward at the edges in a look you’ve grown familiar with in the months that you’ve known him. “You said you’d be here for the sunrise.”

A nervous giggle escapes you, and you open your mouth to tell him that getting your friends anywhere is like herding cats--Ochako is always half asleep, and Bakugou is uncooperative; Iida is the only one prepared on time, but his lectures inevitably make him late anyway--but what slips out instead is a painfully soft, “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

He’d been apprehensive when you asked if he would meet your friends, something you couldn’t blame him for. Already, you’re privy to information you shouldn’t be. There’s a reason merfolk aren’t known to the world, and if the wrong person knew about him, it could be disastrous. But these are your friends, and you know they’d never do anything to hurt you or Shouto like that. Even still, you were hesitant to even ask him to show himself, though he was the one to first approach you. 

Somewhere, in a small, quiet part of your heart, you were so sure that he wouldn’t be here waiting for you today.

The admission makes Shouto’s eyes widen. His pupils shrink into catlike slits, before dilating once more, and the spines lining the vertebrae of his tail flare slightly. His tail flicks back, creating a small wave in the water. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asks, brows furrowing slightly. “I said I would.”

“I know,” you murmur back, shifting enough to slip your legs into the water. Shouto moves with you, perfectly in tune as his eyes follow every subtle shift in your expression. “I just…” He continues to stare as you trail off, and your fingers find the sea glass around your neck. It’s warm beneath your touch. The pressure in your chest loosens as the weight of it presses against your palm. “Are you sure this is okay?” You stress the question, searching his gaze for any hint of refusal or discomfort. 

There’s still enough time for him to turn and disappear back into the water. You have another minute until your friends follow you, and if he wants to go, you’ll let him. Damn the consequences. You’d rather look like a fool than do something you can’t take back. 

But Shouto snorts, pulling himself closer to the rocks, closer to you. His right hand reaches for you, and you shiver as his claws ghost across your skin just above the edge of the water. The heat of his palm sinks into you. When you sigh, he pulls you closer. “They’re your friends.” It’s a reminder instead of an answer to the question, which would be frustrating if he were anyone else. “I trust you,” Shouto adds, softer than before, the low, comforting tone of his voice causing heat to spread through your limbs.

The pad of his thumb rubs against the side of your leg.

“What the fuck?” a deep voice growls from behind you, startling you both.

Shouto rips his hand away from your leg, going rigid as the spines on the back of his tail flare again. His pupils narrow into slits, and his lips curve back over his teeth in a warning as a hissing sound escapes him. His muscles coil, prepared to strike, and your head whips around to meet wide carmine eyes, Bakugou staring at you and Shouto in disbelief. His mouth moves soundlessly. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless by something before, and if the situation was different, you would probably laugh.

The rest of your friends are behind him, expressions varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

You’re quick to reach for Shouto, the merman still growling from the water. The sound breaks off as soon as your fingers brush against his shoulder. His gaze snaps to you, checking to make sure you’re okay before his narrowed eyes slide back to Bakugou, his tail lashing almost violently through the water.

The silence doesn’t last for long. Bakugou glances wildly between you and Shouto, gaze questioning, before he finally settles on the very real, very annoyed merman. “The fuck is this?” he snaps, voice rising in pitch.

Another irritated flick of Shouto’s tail sends droplets of water raining down on the rock. “You must be Bakugou,” Shouto muses, expression carefully blank as he looks over your friend, sizing him up. Snorting, he turns back to you, relaxed and almost bored. “You were right,” he murmurs, just loud enough for everyone else to hear. “He is obnoxious.”

Bakugou’s face twists in rage, and behind him Ochako bursts into a fit of nervous giggles as she continues to stare at Shouto. Kirishima reaches out slowly, one hand grabbing Ochako’s as the other grabs onto the back of Bakugou’s shirt. Beside him, Midoriya is openly gaping at Shouto. You can practically see the thoughts churning through his head as he stares at the merman in wonder. 

Surprisingly, it’s Iida that recovers the fastest. He steps forward, moving around the others, and squints behind his glasses. “Mizushima, what is this?” he asks, repeating Bakugou’s earlier question as his mouth presses into a tight line. Iida has always been a logical man; this isn’t something he knows how to process.

Shouto’s tail twitches again. His eyes slide to Iida’s. “Shouto,” he states, then glances at you. His lips quirk at the edges as he clarifies, “My name,” just like when he first met you. Iida stares. So do the rest. And then--

“Yo, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet ya, man,” the boy introduces himself, releasing Ochako and Bakugou to walk to the edge of the rock and plop down cross-legged beside you. He grins at Shouto and reaches over to pat you on the back. “Thanks for saving our girl here, we owe ya one!”

You sigh, leaning into Kirishima’s touch. Thank god you brought him here today. His easy acceptance is infectious, and your other friends start to relax as soon as the good natured man offers Shouto a wide smile. It might just be the biology student in Kirishima making him so readily accepting of merpeople, but you’re grateful either way.

“Of course,” is Shouto’s quiet response. His brows furrow a little, like he can’t understand why Kirishima is thanking him for not letting you drown, but he doesn’t comment on it any further.

Iida jolts suddenly, his eyes widening in horror. “Where are my manors?” he sputters, walking stiffly to the edge of the water. He crouches on your other side, one stiff arm shooting out towards Shouto. The merman flinches at the sudden movement. “I’m Tenya Iida. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

Shouto stares at the offered hand, then glances at you. You lift one hand to your mouth to smother your amusement, and Shouto seems to decide Iida’s actions are harmless. Ignoring the handshake, he turns to your unnamed friends. “I suppose that makes you Uraraka and Midoriya,” he guesses, looking between the pair.

Ochako smiles shyly, nodding, and Midoriya looks like he might burst with excitement. He quickly takes Iida’s place as the taller boy steps back, a disgruntled expression on his face that makes you bite back more laughter. 

“That’s right! Oh, man, when Mizushima told us about you, I thought--but wow, you are real!” Midoriya gushes, nearly slipping into the water in his hurry to reach said real merperson. You’re entirely unsurprised when he yanks off his backpack, digging out a notebook and a pen as Shouto stares quizzically. “Hold on, I have so many questions. Are you part fish? Can you breathe underwater? Are there other species of supernatural creatures that actually exist, or are merpeople an outlier. I--”

Ochako slaps her hand over his mouth from behind, cutting him off before he can ramble further. Her smile is warm. “Sorry about him, he gets excited sometimes.”

Things fall into place rather easily after that. Your friends are cautious, but friendly as they speak with Shouto, who calmly and carefully answers their many questions. He lets Midoriya examine his spines, but shifts away from a curious hand, and seems to enjoy a conversation with Kirishima about jellyfish. Even Iida joins the conversation after his shock wears off. Bakugou is the only one that doesn’t speak the entire time you’re here, standing as far away from Shouto and the edge of the rock as he possibly can, glaring.

You stay until the sun rises with the afternoon, and cars begin to pull into the parking lot across the beach, your friends murmuring their goodbyes as they gather their things and begin the careful trek back to the sand, excited chattering left in their wake. Bakugou lingers. So do you.

Once he’s sure the others are far enough away, Bakugou stalks to the edge of the rock, crouching and getting in Shouto’s face. The merman doesn’t flinch, standing his ground. “Hey, half-and-half,” Bakugou growls, lowering his voice so that you can’t hear. “Thanks.” He gestures to his chin towards you, and understanding passes between them. When Shouto gives a nearly imperceptible nod, Bakugou rises back to his feet and reaches over to tousle your hair until you swat at him. “See ya on the shore, squirt.”

“I like them,” Shouto tells you after Bakugou is gone. “They seem… nice.”

You stare at the beach, though you can’t see your friends from where you’re sitting. “Thank you,” you whisper, drawing shouto’s attention. “For doing this. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

He only blinks, head tilting slightly to one side. “You asked me to,” he says, like it’s that simple.

XXX

It’s later that same week when you find yourself back on the rock, the beach strangely empty at midday. There are dark clouds off in the distance, on the edge of the horizon, but the sun is still shining brightly at the moment. There’s a storm coming. The thought should make you nervous, but you’ve never felt anything but inexplicably safe here with Shouto in the water beside you, making lazy circles a few feet from where you’re sitting on the edge with your legs tucked beneath you.

You pull your gaze from the far off storm clouds, turning to Shouto instead, but he’s deep in thought, floating on his back with his tail fins occasionally peeking out of the water. Slowly, your eyes wander across him, taking in the pattern of his tail, the sharp spines you’re careful to stay away from, before moving up his torso to the lean muscle and broad shoulders you always seem to catch yourself staring at. He’s fit, but you reason that he’d have to be to live in the water like he does. Traveling over his neck and strong jaw, you find yourself lingering on his mismatched eyes, the two tones clashing, and the red and raw skin covering the upper left side of his face.

You’ve never asked about the scar. You’ve never had the heart or the stomach to question what could have left what looks like a terrible burn. 

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until the deep timber of his voice pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Does it bother you?” he asks, watching you from where he’s begun treading water just off the edge of the rocks.

Gaze snapping from the vibrant scar covering the side of his face to his eyes, you’re taken aback by the cacophony of emotions flickering in the depths of them. Not shy, but uncomfortable. Perhaps anxious.

It only takes a second for you to realize he’s asking about his scar, and the question makes your chest ache for him. “No,” you answer honestly. “Why would it?”

“It’s ugly,” he tells you, like he’s said it before. Shouto’s tone is bland, empty, like he doesn’t care, but he can’t hide the tightness around his eyes, the hurt. “My mother. She… was unwell.” He’s quiet for several seconds, unsure of how to phrase it, and you wonder if he’s ever told anyone before. “She hated my left side, but it wasn’t her fault.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you recall him saying he looks like his father, and something clicks, but you don’t want to push it. “I’m sorry,” you say instead, wincing when the words leave your mouth.

The right corner of his mouth twitches. It’s not a smile. “Me too.”

Absentmindedly, you grasp the pendant around your neck. “It’s part of you, Shouto,” you tell him, so softly that he almost can’t hear you over the sound of the water, but he’s attune to your voice after so many months. He could recognize it anywhere. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

The conversation lulls into nothing, and you search for something to fill the silence when it becomes clear that he won’t.

The silver chain you always wear curls around your finger, the sea glass thumping against your collarbone with every twirl of your hand. His eyes follow the motion, entranced by the steady rhythm, heartbeat echoing the sound. You stop suddenly, the turquoise glass brushing against your knuckles. For a moment, neither of you move, and even the ocean seems to hold its breath, waiting for you to speak. “I never asked,” you murmur, barely loud enough for him to hear over the sound of his own pulse. “But you saved this too, didn’t you?”

Your fingers trace the edge of the teardrop shape, and your eyes rise to meet his, lingering on the jewel-tone of his left side before sliding to the silver of his right.

He nods, edging closer until his claws are buried in the rocks and his delicate fins are pressed against the surface below the water. “I saw you drop it, just before you blacked out, and it was… shining in the water.” You frown, but don’t question it. The water was too dark and murky for you to see that night, but he was born for those depths, able to see what you can’t. “I thought you’d want it back if--” he cuts himself off with a sharp, angry breath and can’t bring himself to finish. Shouto clears his throat. “Besides, sea glass brings luck.”

That makes you pause again. Your brows furrow as you stare at him. “What?”

He shakes his head, waving off your questioning look. “Nothing,” he says. “Just old superstitions.” His tail brushes against the rocks again. “My mother used to tell me that when humans fall into the ocean holding something, it’s usually important to them. She was right.” He gestures to sea glass in your hand, how carefully you’re cradling it. Shouto has never seen you without it, and you keep it close to your heart like something precious.

“Maybe,” you muse, a wry smile pulling at your lips as you draw your knees to your chest, letting the pendant fall back to your chest with a dull thump that only you can hear. “I don’t know if it was that important until after. I probably should have just left it on the beach.”

Shouto pauses, pulling himself a little further out of the water. “What do you mean?”

The far off tone of your voice doesn’t disappear as you say, “I just found it before…” and trail off into nothing. As if just remembering that he’s there, you shift in place, rolling onto your knees and settling your weight onto one hip, using one hand to prop yourself up. “I collect sea glass,” you tell him, realizing the topic has never come up before. “And I’d never seen one this color before.” Shouto nods slowly, silently motioning for you to continue. After a second, you do. “When my parents… left, Masaki used to take me here all the time. Usually after storms. And we’d search the beach for glass or sea shells. Whatever we could find. Then I started coming with my friends, and I guess we never stopped.”

He’s quiet for a long time, attention stolen by the breeze as it ruffles your hair, causing strands to tickle your cheek. “I’m glad,” he says eventually, almost too quiet to hear.

And suddenly you’re close, closer than you’ve ever been before. Your hands leave the rock and hesitate before one settles on his shoulder. Shouto is stiff beneath your gentle touch, claws digging into the rock as his muscles tense. The scent of your skin wraps around him, gripping him like a vice, but it’s different. Unfamiliar. You don’t smell like him--like saltwater.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lips brushing the shell of his ear in a way that has a lick of heat arching up his back. His spines flex in the water, tail jerking suddenly, and you’re so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the damp curve of his jaw. “For saving this, too.” A subtle shift has your lips brushing against the edge of his scar beneath his eye, your breath nervous against the side of his face.

The quickening of your heartbeat makes his own pulse spike. Shouto’s tongue dips out to run across his bottom lip. His silence makes your fingers flex around his shoulder, but before you can release him, he pries one of his hands from the rock. The threat of sharp claws against the back of your neck makes your breath hitch, but he’s nothing but gentle with you. 

“Anytime,” he murmurs back to you, pressing his cheek to yours. The pendant you’re wearing glances off his collarbone, the sea glass warm to the touch.

XXX

“So,” Kirishima muses as the two of you make your way through the supermarket, a basket swinging between you as he grabs various snacks off the shelves, “there are two kinds of mer… people?” He glances down at you for confirmation. Even though you’re all adults now, your friends still get together weekly for movie nights and video games, destressing from school and staying close now that the new semester has started.

You nod slowly, trying to decide between two different brands of candy. “That’s what Shou told me,” you say, offering the candy for him to choose. Kirishima sticks both in the basket, and you roll your eyes. 

He’s been asking you questions about merpeople for the last few weeks since you introduced your friends to Shouto, and his enthusiasm is kind of endearing. They’ve been coming down to the beach with you most mornings now, usually only one or two at a time, which you’ve been grateful for. It’s taken Shouto a while to warm up to them, but he seems to get along well with your friends, especially Midoriya and Iida, though he appears to take some satisfaction in trading quips with Bakugou, who mostly just glares and grumbles under his breath.

“He said there are those born normally, like him, and the ones that are reborn. Drowning victims brought back by Ryujin,” you continue when Kiri looks at you expectantly.

Kirishima nods, accepting the existence of a sea god without so much as a second glance.

And then his steps falter. He nearly drops the basket as his eyebrows furrow in thought. Red eyes peer down at you, and his mouth opens and then closes again. Kirishima clears his throat, a bizarre look on his face. “By normal do you mean, like, hatched?” he asks. “Like, out of an egg?”

You frown, bemused by the unexpected question. Of all the things he could have asked you, that certainly wasn’t one you would have expected. Though, maybe you should have. It was only a matter of time before the biology major in him rose to the surface. “They’re mammals, Kiri, they don’t lay eggs,” you remind him after a moment of stunned silence.

“They could be like a platypus,” he says, turning down the next aisle. An older man sends him an odd look, but Kirishima only grins when the man catches his eye. 

You shake your head, grabbing the basket from him. “I’m almost positive they aren’t,” you say, lips twitching in amused exasperation. “And why do you care about the logistics of their birth anyway?”

He shrugs. “I’m just curious. Aren’t you?”

“About merfolk reproduction?” you clarify. “Not really.” Honestly, you haven’t thought about it. The fact that merpeople can spring into existence through the divine powers of a sea god was curious, sure, but for all you know merpeople like Shouto could be born the same way. You hadn’t thought to ask for clarification, and, frankly, you aren’t sure you want any. That’s not a question you feel comfortable asking your friend.

Kirishima rubs the back of his head and straightens his headband. “Really? I thought--nevermind.” Whatever he was about to say makes his eyes widen, and he clams up, a faint blush spreading from his cheeks to the roots of his hair like an awful sunburn.

You stop walking, looking at him out of the corner of your eye as you grab Ochako’s favorite snack off the shelf. “What?” He shakes his head, avoiding your eyes as he shuffles uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Thought what, Kiri?” Huffing, you prop your hands up on your hips, lips pressed into a thin line as you stare him down. 

It works; it always does. Even Bakugou usually gives in with a fierce enough look, and Kirishima is much more agreeable than his explosive best friend.

“I just thought it was something you might need to know,” he admits, voice a little bit softer than before, “considering, y’know? I’d say he’s pretty interested.”

Well, that’s not what you were expecting. Your lips part in shock, but your tongue feels thick and heavy in your mouth, and you gape at him like a fish out of water for a solid seven seconds. “Excuse me?” you finally sputter out. Your skin feels itchy and hot all of a sudden, and the way your pulse quickens is nothing short of embarrassing.

“What?” Kirishima’s head tilts to the side cutely. “I’m just saying. Merman doesn’t doesn’t take his eyes off you whenever you’re around. Even when you and Ochako went for a walk on the beach the other day, he was still watching to make sure you were okay.” You frown, and he holds up his hands placatingly. “Not that there’s a problem with that! He seems protective, and that’s pretty manly!” You still don’t say anything. Kirishima’s brows furrow as he tries to explain it. “It’s like he swallows you with his eyes and doesn’t leave anything for the rest of us.”

For a moment, you don’t say anything, processing the new information buzzing through your head. Does Shouto stare at you? You aren’t blind. You know he likes to keep an eye on you when you’re walking around on the rocks. It’s not like you can blame him, when you only met because you slipped and nearly drowned. But on the beach too? 

The thought leaves a pleasantly warm feeling bubbling in your stomach, but you shove the feeling away, choosing not to think too hard about it. It’s probably only because you’re familiar. 

You wet your lips. “Have you been reading internet poetry again?”

Kirishima blushes deeper. “Yes,” he admits. “Sero’s been sending me some, but that’s not the point.” He takes the basket from you when you roll your eyes. “The point is, don’t you want to know what goes on if you ever try to… you know.” He makes a vague gesture with his hands that you never want to see again. “Like, what if it is eggs?”

“Oh my god, please stop talking,” you whine, turning on your heel to walk away from him. This is not what you wanted to be thinking about tonight. “They don’t lay eggs.”

Kirishima is right behind you. “So you’re saying it’s sperm then? Do you think that’s why the ocean is so salty?” It’s obvious he’s joking now, just trying to get a reaction out of you--or maybe the biology nerd in him is just coming out full force. Either way, you want no part in this conversation.

“You’re disgusting.”

A laugh slips out of his mouth. He grabs your wrist before you can storm off and yanks you against his side, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” he says, cracking up harder. You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes, but he doesn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” he says again once his laughter subsides, much more sincere this time. His arm squeezes around you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” you murmur, giving in to his embrace. It’s hard to resist a hug from Kirishima. “Now never talk to me about merperson sex ever again.” You don’t want to think about Shouto’s hypothetical merman penis while raiding a grocery store for snacks.

“Okay,” he agrees, leading you through the store towards the check-out. And then-- “Since you're so sure it’s not eggs, do you think it’s more like a dolphin?”

You throw his arm away from you. “Is this a kink, Kiri?” you ask him. “Are you into merpeople now?” You almost ask if he wants you to fuck Shouto, or if he’d rather do it himself, but bite your tongue at the last second. “I’m telling Bakugou and Ochako that this is what you think about.”

A sharp pinch to your side makes you squeal, and Kirishima chuckles as you swat at him in return.

You don’t think about the conversation again until later that night. You end up squished onto the couch between Kirishima and Ochako, and all of you are half asleep as you idly listen to Bakugou and Iida argue about what movie to watch next--some explosive action movie or a documentary, respectively--while Midoriya mediates, and you’re thoughts take a sudden sharp turn. 

It’s Kirishima’s fault for putting the thought in your head, and you jerk fully awake, feeling like the ground has dropped out from underneath you. Your pulse jumps, skin itchy and hot at the thought of Shouto’s mouth and hands on you. Shuddering, you squeeze your thighs together. Imagining the weight of him against you makes heat pool in your lower belly. Your mouth feels dry. 

It’s an impossibility. He isn’t interested; you shouldn’t be.

Noticing you’re awake, the boys arguing on the floor pause to look at you. “What’s with that stupid look?” Bakugou asks, narrowing his eyes. For once, you’re grateful that he’s an asshole most of the time. It gives you something to think about that isn’t your merman friend’s biological functions.

“Mizushima, what’s your opinion on the films?” Iida questions.

You glance at the television and blanch. “Please, don’t make me watch Blue Planet, or whatever it’s called, right now, Iida.”

Beside you, Kirishima shakes with muffled laughter.

XXX

Sea glass glitters in the sun beside you, colors ranging from off-white to orange to deep blues and greens that you’ve rarely ever seen before. You’ve gathered a small handful since telling Shouto about your collection. It isn’t every day, but some mornings he’ll hand you bits and pieces of weathered glass that he’s found in the open water. He’s careful to gauge your expression, watching the way your eyes light up with a hesitance that melts into satisfaction when you smile, pleased with himself.

Your toes dip into the gentle lull of the waves when he isn’t looking, his stare far off, brows furrowed like he’s thinking hard about something. “Shouto,” you call to him, barely audible over the rhythmic crash of the ocean against the rocks; he hears you, gaze snapping sideways to meet yours, and the jewel-tone of his left eye makes your heart lurch. The questioning stare he pins you with is replaced with shock as you flick water at him.

His disgruntled expression makes you giggle, but he doesn’t wipe away the droplets of saltwater that slide down his cheek and jaw before dripping back into the ocean. The sunlight makes his skin shimmer, and the teasing line of water that rolls down the side of his neck is nothing short of distracting.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, brushing the stay thought from your mind. He’s been oddly distracted today, staying a little further away from the rocks than usual, a deep furrow to his brow that usually isn’t there anymore. You roll a piece of sea glass between your fingers, a few shades paler than his blue eye and the pendant you’ve worn around your neck for what feels like years now. 

“You.”

The blunt response makes your head snap up. Suddenly, he’s closer than he has been all morning.

The palm of his hand cups your calf, his long fingers wrapping gently around your leg as he tugs you closer to the edge of the rock, careful not to prick you with his clawed fingertips. Shouto is warm despite the seawater, and you shiver as droplets roll down your skin in little streams, leaving behind trails of salt. His grip is loose at first, but tightens when you don’t pull away.

Shouto stares up at you from the water, and the hand that isn’t gripping your leg presses against the rocks beside your thigh, using the leverage to pull himself part way out of the water. It’s still too far away, but the distance makes your breath catch as he leans in just an inch. “You look beautiful in the sunlight.” He says it like it’s a fact, something you should already know, and your lips part in shock.

The wicked look that flickers in his eyes cuts off any response you might have had, and then he shoves himself away from you, just like the first time you met. He rolls backwards in the water once he’s a safe distance away, mindful of the sharp spines protruding from his fins. The tip of his tail flicks up and out of the water, and you squeal as he splatters you with seawater.

“Dick,” you call out as soon as he resurfaces, making Shouto chuckle as he swims back towards the rock you’re perched on. His palm finds its way back to your leg, fingers slotting around you like it’s natural, and you press your leg into his touch, liking the rough scrape of his skin against yours. “What are you really thinking about?”

“You,” he says again, but his amusement dims and his eyes narrow again, catlike slits. “It’s not safe for you to come out this far when you can’t swim.” He glances at the ocean surrounding him and grimaces. 

A frown pulls at your own lips, confusion surging through you at the unexpected discussion. In all the months that you’ve known him, you wonder why it took this long for the question to come up, and why he seems so concerned. “I can swim,” you tell him, a little laugh slipping from your lips. His lips turn down and his head tilts to the side, and you huff, half-heartedly flicking more water towards him. “Maybe not as well as you, but not all of us were born in the water like you, Shou.” He doesn’t look convinced. “Why would you think I can’t swim?”

The answer is probably obvious, in hindsight, but it still startles you when he says, “You never come in the water.”

And that’s it, isn’t it. There’s a denial on the tip of your tongue, but it sticks there, refusing to be spoken. Because he’s right. In all the months you’ve known him, you’ve never done more than dip your legs into the water, and that’s only when he’s nearby. When he’s not, you rarely leave the safety of the sand. It hits you like a blow to the ribs. Phantom pain laces across your chest, and your breath hitches, so subtle that Shouto wouldn’t notice if he wasn’t so close.

A bitter thought crosses your mind. You only met him because you came out to the rocks to prove to yourself that you weren’t a coward, but it was never the rocks that scared you, was it?

Not liking the train of thought, you force a smile and try to ignore the feeling of your lungs filling up with water. “I don’t like to get my hair wet in the morning. Not all of us are naturally resistant to salt.” You brush a strand of red hair away from his eyes, the texture silky.

But Shouto isn’t convinced. “Even when you’re here with your friends, you’re always sitting in the sand,” he says, slowly, gauging your reaction to the observation. “I just thought--” And he cuts off quickly, seeming to realize what you already have.

“I can swim,” you tell him again, not as confident this time.

The way your voice trembles is answer enough for his next question, but Shouto asks it anyway, blunt and unapologetic. “Are you afraid?”

You’re silent for a long time, and Shouto squeezes your calf. “I don’t know,” is your whispered confession.

His thumb strokes the side of your leg, so, so careful as his claws slide across your delicate skin. “Do you…” The way he trails off makes you look at him, and Shouto wets his lips, eyes searching yours almost desperately. “Will you trust me?”

What he’s really asking makes you tense. The water is suddenly freezing around your legs, and your hand grasps the sea glass dangling against your chest. “What if the current pulls me under again?”

“It won’t.” I won’t let it, he doesn’t say out loud, but you hear it anyway.

You’re slow to answer, searching his gaze in return. Finding what you’re looking for, you murmur, “Okay.” 

Shouto stays close to the rock as you pull your legs from the water and stand. You reach for your clothes, hesitating, but under his patient gaze you peel your shirt over your head, dropping it to the dry surface behind you. Your shorts follow, leaving you more naked than you’ve been in months. You’re so busy staring at the waves that you don’t see the greedy way his eyes take you in, drinking in the sight of your bare skin until he reaches your face and his expression softens completely. You really do look beautiful in the sunlight.

When you sit back on the edge of the rock, legs once again dangling in the water, you tense, heart in your throat as your pulse spikes. You almost pull away, but Shouto’s hand on your leg stops you. His palm slides over your knee, your thigh, and his clawed fingers curl around your hip. There’s no push or pull to his touch, he just holds you there, waiting for you to make the choice.

A shudder runs through you as you shift your hips, slowly sinking down in the water. It swallows you up, cold water rushing around your legs until it reaches your waist. Shouto never lets you go, and his hand is warm and steadying against your side, holding back the flood of panic threatening to choke your lungs.

“Watch your feet,” he murmurs, angling his tail away from your vulnerable skin.

The water reaches your chest, and suddenly the ocean is calm around you, the ebb and flow of the currents seeming to disappear as your arms wrap around Shouto’s neck, trusting him to hold you up. Neither of you move, floating mere feet away from the rocks. Your heart pounds in your chest, threatening to burst, but the gentle roll of the waves lull you.

You shiver from the cold, but Shouto is warm against your front, and you lean into his chest, tucking your head against his neck and letting the saltwater scent of him wrap around you. Being in the water again is like coming home, and for the first time since since you nearly drowned a sense of peace washes over you.

“That’s it, love,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your temple as he feels you relax. He pulls you tighter against his chest, one strong arm banded around your waist. His other hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, helping you tuck yourself beneath his chin. It causes the water to lap at your lower jaw, but Shouto chases away your fear with a gentle hand and quiet praise.

You can’t be sure how much time passes like that, but eventually your eyes slip shut, and your breathing evens out. Shouto nuzzles against your hair, a quiet purring sound rumbling deep in his chest, the vibrations soothing you. “Good?” he murmurs, breath hot against your exposed ear.

You nod, half-asleep, and it’s hard to pull yourself from the curve of his shoulder and neck, but you want to see his eyes. Shouto’s nose bumps against yours as he tilts his chin to look at you, surprised by your movement, and he tenses, eyes locked with yours and lips a breath away. “Thank you,” you murmur, almost able to taste the salt on his skin.

His throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he leans down an inch, just to press his forehead to yours. Shouto’s claws flex against the back of your neck, almost nervous, and he looks at you like he wants to speak, but only nods. 

His lips brush against your hairline as he tucks you safely back beneath his chin.

XXX

It’s nearly midnight when you make your way down to the beach, the full moon shining overhead, brighter than you’ve ever seen it. Masaki is gone for the night, and your house was too quiet, too lonely for you to stay in, unable to fall asleep. And your first thought was Shouto. You have no way of knowing if he’ll be here tonight. You never meet this late, and yet you find yourself searching for him regardless.

A large part of you felt like you needed to be here tonight, an inexplicable urge to see him overtaking you, though you already saw him once today, early in the morning. He seemed agitated then, pacing in the water more than usual, his tone gruff and snappish. You didn’t ask why, and he seemed to calm down quickly enough once you slipped into the water beside him.

Shouto practically wrapped himself around you when you did, purring as he rubbed his cheek against yours and pulled you close to his chest. Even his tail brushed against you more than usual, almost like he was trying to coax you to play.

You set his odd behavior aside as you settle into your usual spot on the rocks, legs slipping into the water on the flat of the stone, a sheer cliff disappearing into the water for twenty feet until it reaches the bottom. The hem of your dress flirts with the surface of the water, but you don’t pay it a second thought. The seawater will wash out.

“Shouto?” you call out across the waves, a distant splash causing your head to snap up. Your legs become still in the water, eyes searching for him, but the sea breeze and waves are the only sound, and you must have imagined it. Leaning back on your hands, you sigh, staring up at the moon. Pale light reflects off the water, the moon’s reflection far off on the horizon.

You shriek as something grabs you beneath the water, lashing out with your legs. Clawed fingers wrap around your legs, pinning them against the rocks. You choke on a gasp, eyes wide, but your heart slows when you see a familiar head breach the surface of the water. “Dammit, Shouto,” you breathe, giggling lightly as you shake your head. “You scared me.”

When he doesn’t respond, you glance at him, the moon so full and bright that you’re able to see him perfectly, despite the dark.

Your breath catches when you really look at the merman. For the first time since you met him, he looks utterly inhuman, and the sight makes your heart stutter in your chest. His pupils are slits, silver and turquoise swallowing the black until his eyes appear bottomless, so easy to drown in. Lips curved back over his sharp teeth, there's a flicker of hunger in his eyes as they settle on you. Something feral and wanting.

“You shouldn’t be in the water tonight, love,” he tells you, voice lower than usual, deeper, almost a growl. The shock of it rumbles through you; it makes you shiver. His claws drag against the soft skin of your leg, curling around you, and for the first time you feel the threatening prick of them. The hint of danger slams the breath from your lungs, and your heart pounds against your ribs as his hand slowly moves higher.

Taken aback by his touch, you do nothing to stop him. “Have you,” you cut off, sucking in a sharp breath as he nudges your legs apart. “Have you been here all afternoon?” You weren’t expecting this when you came down here tonight, and the way he’s touching you is making it hard to think. He’s never acted like this before. At least not around you. And it’s throwing you for a loop.

He shakes his head, claws digging into the rock. The hand curled just beneath your knee tugs you forward. You yelp, slipping down the side until you’re balanced precariously on the edge, your fingers digging into the rock to hold yourself up as he pulls your legs apart. “I could smell you,” he murmurs, purring as his mouth presses against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the line of your panties. He nuzzles you, breathing growing heavier as he drinks in your scent. 

It should be embarrassing, but the way his tongue laves attention to your thigh has heat pooling in your belly. Your breathing quickens, and with one shaky hand you reach out, holding onto his shoulder for balance as wicked, sharp teeth nip at you. Your hips lurch, and Shouto’s claws dig into your thigh, not enough to hurt you, but the minor jolt of pain makes you whimper. The hem of your dress is drenched in seawater, and the fabric slides wetly over the tops of your thighs as Shouto shoves the fabric upward, giving himself more access to your sinfully smooth skin.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he presses slow, wet kisses across the inside of your thigh, mouth wandering, tasting you. “Shouto,” you gasp as he hikes your knee over his shoulder, giving himself greater access to you as your leg dangles down his back, seawater dripping from your skin to his. Mewling, you arch into his touch as his tongue drags across the crease between your thigh and your core. He mouths at you, and the sensation of sharp teeth on your sensitive skin makes you jolt. “Shouto,” you call his name again, “what are you doing?”

A pointless question when his head is buried between your thighs, his teeth and tongue running along your soft skin, tasting and touching as he drags quiet sounds from your mouth.

Your hips jerk, a keening cry escaping you as his teeth press down. He jolts at the sound, ripping himself away from you. A swear is hissed between his teeth. His pupils are wider when they lock with yours, wavering between lucid and feral slits. “I--I’m sorry,” he stutters, panting, claws digging into the rock beside you. “You need to… you need to go home,” he tells you firmly, glaring as he tries to pull himself from your sweet taste. “The full moon,” he continues before you can ask him why. “It makes us… frenzied, and… you smell really good.”

The way he purrs at the end of his statement makes you shiver in anticipation. You wet your lips. “What do I smell like?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“Me,” he growls, clearly pleased with himself. When you don’t pull away, he descends on you again, and you flush as his lips brush against the front of your underwear, tongue flicking out to taste the damp spot forming between your legs. “But sweeter,” he adds, a deep rumble in his chest.

“Shouto,” you whine, hand moving to the back of his head. 

Your fingers thread through his hair, and he purrs again when you tug, trying to pull him closer. “Don’t,” he snaps, pressing another chaste kiss to your thigh. “I can’t--I’m not myself like this.” His breathing is heavier than before, and he shudders. “I want to--” His fingers dig into your thigh.

“Want to what, Shou?” you find yourself asking, overwhelmed by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

His answer is immediate, a warning growl. “Breed you.”

It dawns on you then, why he was so strange earlier in the day, and why he’s acting like this now. It’s some kind of rut, or whatever they might call it. And, distantly, it makes sense. The moon controls the tides, the psyche. For creatures born from the waves, it must have some power over them as well. And he wants you. Shouto is giving you an out, a chance to run, and you should take it. It would be better to talk about this tomorrow, when he’s more himself, but then his sharp teeth nip at the meat of your inner thigh again, and you let him spread your legs wider.

“Please,” you murmur, head tilting back as he presses his face between your thighs, kitten licks toying with your clit through your panties. Each lap at your slit and sensitive bundle of nerves sends heat rushing between your thighs, and your breathing grows heavy, the pleasure almost unbearable and he’s hardly touched you. He shifts in the water, glancing up at you from between your legs, and the sight makes your core clench around nothing. “Shouto, don’t stop.”

Something flickers in his eyes.

He drags you into the water with him.

A gasp tears from your mouth, your eyes widening as he spins you around, shoving your chest against the rocks. Your short dress tangles around your thighs until he yanks it upwards, the fabric billowing in the water. He reaches around you, palming your breast through your dress, and the thin, soaked fabric clings to you, making the friction even better. The threat of his claws on your chest makes you whimper, your head falling back against his shoulder. Shouto holds you up easily in the water, tail flicking wildly beneath you. His hips press against yours from behind, smooth and flat, and your eyes flutter shut as his sharp teeth press against the side of your throat.

A hazy thought of how he plans to fuck you crosses your mind, but then something long and thick slides from a slit you never noticed in the top of his tail. You shudder as he ruts against you from behind, cock sliding wetly between your thighs. It’s slick and smooth on the sides, curved at the tip, and you moan as a long line of ridges along the top rub against your clit through your panties.

“Shouto,” you whimper, thighs squeezing around the hard length pressed between your legs. He grunts against your neck, sliding between your thighs easily, leaving them sticky with some kind of thick fluid that makes your skin feel hot.

One clawed hand wanders down the front of your torso, nearly ripping your dress in two. You arch against him, spreading your legs in the water as his long tail nudges between your knees, holding you open to the hand that slips between your legs. The tip of one claw traces your slit, and he pins you against the ledge to keep you from squirming as the smooth side of his claw rubs against your clit. He doesn’t stop until you’re squirming, begging for him to do something, as your breathing grows uneven. Sharp teeth bite down on the curve of your shoulder, and your stomach flips as he hooks his claw around the scrap of fabric between your legs, slicing through your panties with ease.

The head of his cock presses against your pussy, more of that sticky fluid smearing against your skin as those ridges slide over your clit. Whimpering, your head falls back. Your hands reach around to grab his hair, his shoulders, anything within your reach, trusting him to hold you up.

“Mine,” he growls against the back of your neck, his hand sliding beneath your dress to press against your stomach. His hips pull back and snap forward just as quickly, and you moan as the head of his cock slips inside you. Each rock of his hips forces him deeper inside you, filling you inch by inch until you can barely breathe. He’s thick, bigger than you thought, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you until there’s nowhere left untouched. You should be uncomfortably full, but the slick fluid dripping from his cock and the ridges rubbing against you have nothing but pleasure coiling inside you.

The pace he picks up is harsh, fast, his cock thrusting inside of you roughly. His breath is hot against your ear, and his teeth are pressed to the thin skin of your neck, your pulse fluttering beneath the threat of his jaws tearing into you. 

Your walls clench down around him.

Shouto purrs, palm pressing firmly against your belly. You moan and gasp, choked sounds are the only noises you’re able to make as the ridges on his cock rub against your sweet spot with every stroke against your sensitive inner walls. 

Your pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tightly between your legs until you’re trembling against him. Shouto’s claws flick over your nipple, rolling it carefully with his fingers, and the hand on your stomach slinks lower, dipping between your thighs to rub against your swollen clit until you come around his cock.

Another purr rumbles through his chest into yours, and Shouto’s pace speeds up even further as you clench around him, squirming. 

You don’t know how long he fucks you like this, the pleasure overwhelming you as he pulls another orgasm from your boneless, breathless body. His cock twitches inside of you, seeming to swell, and his teeth dig into the curve of your shoulder and neck, drawing blood as he spills himself inside you.

“You called me yours,” you say, later, half asleep on the rocks, exhausted from your time in the water with him.

He huffs, looking down at you like it should be obvious. “I’ve been courting you for months,” he murmurs, voice muffled as he dips his chin to press his mouth against the side of your neck, mindful not to pinch you with his sharp teeth. The solid weight of him settles on top of you, his chest pressed against yours. His tongue slides out to lap at the wound on your neck. There must be something in his saliva as well, because the ache is gone as quickly as it starts.

“What?” you ask, eyes widening.

“The sea glass,” he tells you, purring as you reach around him, stroking his bare back. He nuzzles against your neck, kissing down your throat and occasionally licking the salt from your skin. “It’s...It’s what you give to lovers,” is what he tells you, hesitantly, like you might be mad.

But you reach for him, cradling his jaw and stroking his cheeks. “Does that make you mine?”

Shouto leans down to kiss you for the first time, so softly that your heart starts to ache.

XXX

Like so many nights before, you find your feet taking you to the beach, to the rocks that have become a second home to you over the last few months, to Shouto. A piece of your heart burns as you think of him, your chest filling with unimaginable heat. Your stomach churns as your thoughts sour, wondering how long things might last. Seeing each other so rarely, being different species. It won’t work, in the end, but you want to stay. You’ll stay as long as he lets you.

Your lips curve upward as soon as you see him waiting for you.

For a moment, you think he’s asleep. That he was only sunning himself on the rocks, soaking in the last rays of daylight before the sunset disappeared, and he lost track of time. He doesn’t look up as you approach, footsteps nearly silent as you traverse the rocks, knowing exactly where to step. You’ve become decent at sneaking up on him, but he always notices you before you can truly surprise him. His senses are too sharp; he’s too in-tune with you.

Dread crawls down your throat and chokes you, strangling your heart when you see blood smeared across the rocks. The faint smile quirked on your lips disappears as your eyes snap up, locking on his tense frame. You’re close enough to hear him now, muttering something in a language you don’t understand, trembling with the effort it takes to hold himself up. The sight of him makes you sick.

His back is to you, his wild stare cast out over the sea, and you’re close enough to see the long, bloody gashes stretching across his back. Deep and curved, they’ve ripped through his flesh like tissue paper. Claw marks, you realize. They’re claw marks. The spines jutting from his tail are damaged too, some snapped and jagged in places, and they seem to ooze where they’ve been broken in two, clear fluid dripping down onto his tail.

You don’t think when you lurch forward, raw panic surging inside you. Dropping to your knees beside him, you grasp his shoulder, a breathless, “Shouto,” falling from your lips.

He goes rigid beneath your gentle touch, head snapping up and around, pupils shrunken into animalistic slits. You can’t blame him for his defensive reaction. Still half-turned away, his tail snaps up and out. He lashes out, bleeding and hurt. Instinct drives him to it. 

The undamaged spines stop inches from piercing through your flesh, aimed for your chest and throat, a startled sound escaping you. Your fingers tremble where they hover just inches above his arm, heart stuttering, Your chest feels tight, suddenly, like something is gripping you and squeezing, and it makes phantom pain shoot through your ribcage. 

Shouto chokes out your name in the most broken, horrified tone you’ve ever heard. His spines flex, flaring, and the delicate edge of one almost lovingly brushes against your cheek. “I--I didn’t.” He’s still staring at you, looking pale and sickly under the moonlight. Claws scrape across the ground before he reaches for you, stopping before he can touch you. Tension makes his fingers tremble. He’s still coiled tightly, like might lunge for you, or throw himself into the water.

It takes a moment for your heart to slow, the sudden spark of fear bleeding away into nothing as he stares at you. Carefully, you shift away from his spines, movements painfully slow. Shouto follows you with his eyes, holding his breath. He’s stopped stuttering apologies, his jaw clenched.

When you reach forward to cup his jaw, he melts into your touch, shuddering. Your thumbs stroke across his cheeks, slow soothing motions that coax him to relax, to trust you. A soft, apologetic sound rumbles in his throat, and Shouto tilts his cheek into your touch, lips brushing against the side of your palm. “What happened?” you whisper as his pupils widen, dilating as your sweet scent washes over him.

Shouto stiffens at the question, but your soft hands and gentle touch quell the cacophony of emotions swelling inside him.

His tongue flicks out across his lips, and his tail twitches again. Shouto shifts his lower-half away from you, but can’t bring himself to pull away from you entirely. Even if he wanted to, you wouldn’t let him go far. Each subtle shift and flex of his body is mirrored by you, not giving him a moment to overthink your momentary fear. 

Silence threatens to consume you both before he finally speaks. “My father found out about you,” he eventually admits, allowing you to run your fingers through his damp hair. The pad of your thumb brushes the underside of a cut across his temple, and your distress makes his stomach churn. “He wasn’t pleased.”

Outrage makes your throat tighten. “So he attacked you?” you ask in disbelief, voice strained.

“This is how our kind settle disagreements,” Shouto tells you. A heavy sigh makes his shoulders droop. His tail goes lax on the rocks, the forked fins at the bottom handing over the edge and dipping into the water. “I’ll be fine,” he promises, reaching up to cover one of your hands with his. Rough lips press against your palm again, so tender that your heart begins to ache. “We heal quickly.”

You want to argue. Want to check the wounds on his back. But you can see that he isn’t lying. Already, the horrid gashes across his back are starting to close, wounds clotting. What’s left of the blood is diluted from the water dripping down his skin, leaving watery red lines painted across his ribs, like the stripes on his tail.

Before you can speak, Shouto moves again, propping himself up with his tail and reaching for you. Your hands fall to his shoulders, and this time it’s his hands cradling your jaw so carefully, like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever held. “Are you all right?” The tip of his nose brushes against your temple as he pulls you to his chest, arms winding around your back. 

“You scared me,” you admit to him, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you. When your words reach him, he tenses, wincing. “Not because of that,” you’re quick to say, sinking into him. The tips of your fingers brush against a wound on the back of his neck. It turns silver before your eyes. “You weren’t moving.”

His chest rumbles with a purr, and your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your forehead, holding them there in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, grip tightening around you. He makes another quiet sound deep in his throat, hands stroking over your back and sides reassuringly. 

A sharp pain licks across your side when his palm smooths over your ribs. Before you can stop it, a soft cry escapes you, and Shouto jerks back. Mismatched eyes find yours and narrow when he sees you wince. Then, his gaze snaps to your side, hand wrenching away from you as the color drains from his face. “Blood,” he murmurs, staring at the red smear across his palm. “Are you bleeding?”

Panic creeps into his tone. The shirt you’re wearing is too dark to tell, but you whimper as his palm presses back to your side. It’s like your ribs have been bruised again, but so much worse. Fire flares across your ride side when you breathe, crawling beneath your skin.

You don’t feel it when Shouto yanks the side of your shirt upwards, claws digging into the fabric and tearing. “No,” you hear him whisper, a desperate, broken sound. He swears. 

The cut across your ribs is small, shallow, but it bleeds slowly. Already, your skin is inflamed around the wound, puffy and red. The cause is obvious, and your whimper rips his heart from his chest. Shouto’s blood runs cold. His hands shake as he holds you up. 

The venom works quickly. It paralyzes you. The heat burning beneath your skin is unbearably hot, and you can’t breathe.

“Shouto,” you whisper as he pulls you to his chest. “What’s going on?” Everything is foggy, muffled, like you’re underwater. Even the sound of his voice calling out your name is starting to slip away from you.

“I’m sorry,” he sputters, voice cracking. “I don’t--I didn’t--fuck, I’m so sorry, love.” He can’t fix this. He hurt you, and there’s nothing he can do to stop his venom from sinking into your flesh and blood now that it’s already there. Dammit, he should have checked you right away--but even if he had it would have been too late. One second, an instant of his control slipping. That’s all it takes for him to hurt people, and he knows that. Merfolk have no cure for his venom, but your kind do. There’s a cure for the venom of the lionfish he so closely resembles.

But he’s bigger than a lionfish.

“Shouto?” you whimper again, not understanding. You can’t breathe. Why can’t you breathe?

You pitch forward suddenly, and Shouto hushes you, lowering you onto the rock as he strokes your hair. Too weak to pull himself over the ledge earlier, the two of you are kneeling where the rock gently slopes into the water, and the currents cause small waves to lap at you. Seawater soaks into your clothes as he sets you down on your side, hands hovering inches from your skin, afraid to touch you. The sea glass pendant you’re wearing slips into the water.

The currents slow, and the turquoise glass glows beneath the moon as it sinks beneath the surface. 

Shouto rolls you to your back, careful not to touch the festering wound on your side. Your eyes are half-lidded when he leans over you, nose nudging your cheek, needy as he waits for a response. There isn’t one. He tries purring again, trying to soothe you like his mother always did for him, but you’re so far gone to the venom, already half-way lost to him.

The ocean ripples behind him, the water parting as a long, serpentine head breaches the surface. Shouto doesn’t notice, still leaning over you, voice low and hushed as he begs you to move, to open your eyes, but your chest is struggling weakly now, each breath slow and painful.

A catlike, slitted pupil locks on Shouto, then you, drifting between your bodies to the necklace you wear. “So this is where it’s been,” a voice muses. A sleek, dark mass moves beneath the surface of the water, a long body writhing and twisting around itself.

Shouto’s head snaps up, and his eyes are rimmed in red as they connect with vibrant, blue irises set into a long, scaled face. Dark horns protrude from the creatures head. Fins the same deep shade of blue flutter against the creature's face, and lips curve back to reveal a row of sharp fangs.

Breath caught in his throat, Shouto can only stare at the creature he’s only heard about in tales and stories. The sea god. The dragon god. A name sticks on Shouto’s tongue, but he doesn’t dare speak it, not with the monstrous dragon rising out of the water.

“Little lost fragment,” the sea god speaks, voice soft and deep. The dragon reaches for you, one long claw brushing against your chest, the tip coming to rest over the sea glass pressed over your struggling heart. Turquoise light crackles beneath the dragon’s touch, and Shouto’s heart lurches into his throat. It isn’t sea glass at all. It never was. 

“Humans shouldn’t play with things they don’t understand,” Ryujin muses, tone caught somewhere between vengeful and sympathetic. His claw hooks beneath the chain around your throat, but doesn’t pull. The pendant above your heart loses it’s glow, the dragon reclaiming its power before releasing you.

A wet crackle leaves Shouto as he tries to speak. “How--” he starts, cutting off as Ryujin’s eye cuts back to him, silencing him.

“It called to me,” the dragon god states plainly, answering what Shouto couldn’t ask. For months he searched for the fragment of his precious stones, sensing it had been claimed. A wish is owed. Ryujin glances down at you again, a low sound rumbling through his chest like thunder. “You’ve killed her,” he continues, eyeing the wound on your side and the spines flaring on Shouto’s tail. “And such a pretty thing.”

Shouto bristles, baring his teeth at the god. A growl rips from deep in his chest, but the dragon only looks at him, amused. “Can you save her?” Shouto snaps, staring his god in the eyes.

The dragon blinks at him, slow and amused. “I can.”

Tongue flicking out over his dry lips, Shouto asks the question he knows could have dire consequences, desperation outweighing fear. “What will it cost?” He should know better than to make demands of a god, but if it means saving you, he’d do anything.

“What will you give?” Ryujin asks instead.

Shouto looks at you, so still beneath him. So silent. Your chest isn’t moving anymore. Your heartbeat is slow and falling silent as well. “Everything,” he says, reaching up to stroke his knuckles across your cheek, willing you to open your eyes for him, to smile one more time. He swallows down the lump in his throat, glaring at the god. “I’ll give you everything.”

Ryujin laughs. He sneers at Shouto, baring his fangs. “Foolish boy,” the dragon calls him, snorting, breath hot as it fans across the merman’s face. “I’ll accept your deal.” The dragon lashes out suddenly, clawed fingers grasping Shouto’s tail, making the merman gasp. “And I’ll take what’s mine.”

Before Shouto can protest, he’s ripped under the water, dragged to the bottom as the serpent rips him out to sea. He tenses, struggling, but the spines jutting from his tail snap beneath the sea god’s grip, bouncing harmlessly off the dragon’s thick scales. The god’s claws dig into his flesh, ripping through tissue and bone, and Shouto cries out as his blood diffuses in the water. Iron coats his tongue, choking him, and water rushes down his throat as he forgets to hold his breath.

“So quick to leave the water. Never thinking of the consequences.” Ryujin’s voice rumbles through his head. A sharp claw presses just below Shouto’s waist, sinking deep into his flesh. “Submerge yourself in salt and be cast back to the seafoam you come from.”

The dragon rips his tail in two.

XXX

Your eyes snap open. Heart in your throat, you’re unable to move for several long seconds. Your head hurts, your thoughts hazy. The side of your ribs ache in a way they haven’t in months, and you lie there, trying to recall how you got here. 

Waves lap at your bare toes, and you know you’re on the beach without having to look. Sand and salt stick to your skin as you shift, a shuddering breath escaping from your parted lips as you sit up and stare across the water. 

Memories come back to you, ebbing and flowing like the tides, bits and pieces coming together as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. The pain of his spine burying itself in your side. The fear in his eyes. A warm breath fanning over your face; a thunderous voice calling you back. Calling you home.

You remember dying.

A low groan disrupts your train of thought, and your head snaps toward the sound. Your breath catches when you see him lying next to you, on his back in the sand. “Shouto,” you gasp, lurching towards him, throwing yourself on top of him. He grunts, eyes shooting open as your weight presses down on top of him. Like last time, he recoils, ready to strike, but then his bicolored eyes find yours and it’s like the breath is ripped from his lungs. 

Shouto stares up at you in shameless wonder, lips parting, but no sound escaping his raw throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts his hand from the ground, reaching for you. Fingertips brush against your cheek, his hand calloused and human. “You’re alive,” he murmurs, emotion welling in his eyes.

You wipe away salt as it trails across the curve of his cheek. “I’m alive,” you repeat. For yourself, and for him. You take his hand in yours, staring at the space his claws should be as you brush your fingertips across his knuckles. He shifts, and you realize there are legs beneath you, not a tail. “Shouto, how…” you trail off, trying again. “What did you--”

He hushes you, sitting up and pulling you onto his lap. His nose bumps against yours, and your knees press against his hips. “It’s okay,” he tells you, soft and sweet. “We’re okay, love.” 

A pressure builds in your chest, swelling and threatening to burst. “I love you,” you tell him.

You draw him in to meet you, one hand fisted in his hair as the other wraps around his back, holding him to you. Shouto comes willingly, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s harsh and sweet all at once, all of your combined fear and desperation spilling out at once. His arms wrap around you, fingers blunt and warm as they slide down your back to slip beneath your shirt, wanting to feel your skin beneath his. Shouto’s mouth chases yours when you lean back, and he cradles you so carefully, like he’s afraid you might break.

He’s naked, and you’re both covered in sand and salt and blood, but neither of you care as he presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in.

It hits you, what he must have done--what he gave up for you--and your heart squeezes. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, stroking your fingers across his cheeks and nuzzling against him.

But Shouto shakes his head. His hands are firm on your hips, unwilling to let you go. “I’m not.” And he draws you to him; you let yourself drown.

[zodiyack]

Opposites Attract (1,000+ Follower Special!!)

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female!Pierce/Petrova!Reader

Warnings: Possibly swearing?, fluff, indications of smut??, death/mentions of death, slight angst/violence, I think that’s all

Words: 1,667

Summary: The younger sister of Katherine was the true owner of Damon’s heart, Katherine only being his worry in 1864 due to the sister’s bond, the bond that fueled Katherine to force Y/n to join her when she escaped Mystic Falls and left Damon to think they were both in the tomb.

Note: I have no idea what to say honestly... I’ve been gone due to troubles with my computer yet you guys stuck around and that’s what matters to me. Though I may have a bit of a hard time with words, I hope you guys know that you all mean so much to me 💕💕

And if you’d like me to make a part two, which I’m already planning on doing- I just really liked the ending, or make this a series, feel free to let me know!

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | The Vampire Diaries Masterlist

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV. Part V. Part VI.

1864

Her back hit the wall, lips molded with his as their tongues clashed in a hungry passion. Her fingers played with his hair and pulled his face and body closer to hers. With his hands trapping her against the wall, she felt content.

“Turn me.”

“I can’t, Da-”

“Don’t. I understand, Katherine and all that...but promise me that one day, you’ll escape her grasp and run away with me.” She forced herself to look into Damon’s eyes, her undead heart breaking at the sorrow that drowned in his blue orbs. “Please?”

“I can’t make any promises...” she paused involuntarily, her heightened hearing catching a sudden ruckus from Stefan’s room and stealing her attention. Damon frowned, adjusting his grip on her waist to pull her back to reality. “I...I just can’t right now. However,” the smile returned to his lips, “one day, I will find you. And if you still want to...you may take me up on that promise, Salvatore.”

He was ready to answer when his door burst open and he and Y/n pulled away in a panic. His father stared down Y/n with a great furry in his body. She didn’t say a word, simply kissing Damon softly and nodding to Mr. Salvatore.

“Father- please-”

“No. She’s a monster, Damon! Her sister is a monster! They are monsters! Don’t you see that? She’ll kill you if you give her the chance. The same goes for Stefan and the other Pierce girl. If they’re even girls.” He mumbled the last bit of his sentence, too caught up in the belief that they were pure evil to consider any other possibility.

“She’s not a mons-”

“Yes. She is. Now, enough! I’m already ashamed of your siding with the demons, there is no need to make it worse, boy!” Mr. Salvatore grunted and put a muzzle-like-mask over Y/n’s head and called out to the rest of the hunters, watching as she was dragged away with a grimace upon his face.

Whilst Damon was traumatized, angry at his father and the world for their cruel decisions for his life, he attempted at keeping a neutral, unphased expression. “What will happen to her?”

“The same thing that will happen to the other monsters; she’ll burn.”

Present Day

Damon continued pacing throughout the house, ignoring Stefan’s pleas for him to stop. He thought about what Emily had told him, and what he needed to do. He had everything he needed, what was stopping him from going to the tomb? A gut feeling? Life? Was he just a big chicken?

He took a breather, telling himself to think about the reason he was in this mess. It was for a girl. The love of his life, to be specific. Y/n Pierce. The lovely lady who had come to stay with the Salvatore brothers after her and her sister’s parents had burnt with their home.

They felt pity for the girls, taking them in and, from then on, starting their odd journey through the supernatural world. Y/n was the first to reveal her secret; pulling away from a kiss with Damon due to her loss of control over her vampire features.

Though normally he’d be afraid, Damon had gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, awe and interest shining on his face. It was that night that he confessed his love for her, promising to take her away one day.

He chuckled at the memory, wiping his thumb across his lips. Damon remembered the taste of her lips like it was yesterday. The delicate softness paired with the lustful desire of their kisses was perfection. The kisses they had shared held something no one else could give him.

Despite occasionally hooking up with a girl or two, he was still on the search for his long lost lover. Deep down, he knew the sex was just for a distraction; even if he didn’t want to think of it as such, he knew that he was constantly comparing them to Y/n. Sometimes verbally, sometimes mentally, either way- the comments were always about the woman his heart belonged really to.

“Damon. Why are you really here?”

To find Y/n and stay true to my promise. “Just to be with you, little brother! Is it wrong that I want some bonding time with my little bro?”

“For you? Yes.” Stefan made it a point to avoid and ignore Damon as much as possible, especially with a girlfriend to protect from his ‘evil’ also-vampire brother. “Now, I’m going to ask you again. Why are you really here?”

Damon sighed. “You already know that Stefan.”

Now that Damon was closer than ever to opening the tomb, he was more than ready to reveal his true intentions. Stefan believed Damon was after Katherine, pleading him to leave as soon as they got out of the tomb. But in reality, Damon could care less about that vampire. He just wanted Y/n, but with the sisters being closer than anything he’d ever seen, he had no choice but to rescue Katherine as well.

If he was lucky, Katherine would allow Y/n to stray from her and stay with Damon, but he had a feeling that would never happen. Not with how possessive Katherine was. How she insisted that blood, as well as herself, went first.

1864

“We need to go back to them!” Y/n tried to run to her lover’s body. Her heart was racing. She’d come back to find that her beloved had been shot dead, his brother the same. Before Y/n could reach the man, Katherine gripped her waist and held her back, stronger than her younger sister due to being older in human and vampire years.

Y/n was the one Petrova to have escaped Klaus in his act of revenge. To be fair, it wasn’t his fault that he missed her. She was out picking berries, going about her life normally, before returning to a bloodied home with the bodies of the people she loved strewn about messily.

She remembered falling to her knees and cursing at whatever entity seemed to be there. Whether it was God or some other being, she demanded, through sobs, to know what she had done to deserve it.

Then, as if her prayer-like-yells of agony had been answered, Katerina showed up at the doorway. Her reaction was similar to Y/n’s; first, processing what she was seeing, then, feeling the fear freeze her in place, and finally, screaming and trying to shake her family awake, hoping as much as she could that it was all a dream.

Y/n walked from her hiding spot slowly, still shaking from her discovery but much more calmed with the presence of her older sister. “Who would do such a thing?”

She swore she could never forget the rage, paired with terror, in her sister’s eyes. “Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson did this.”

That very day, she turned her sister. She explained that they would live long enough to either kill Klaus and get revenge, or plea for his forgiveness and live their lives once more.

Snapping out of her memory fueled trance, Y/n broke free of her sister’s arms and dropped to the ground beside Damon. She pulled his head onto her lap and brushed his dark curls from his face. She chuckled to herself when she noticed her tears dropping onto his face.

“Goodbye, my love.” Y/n pressed a kiss to his forehead, then one on the tip of his nose. Finally, one on his lips, staying a little longer than the others as she savored the intimacy in their final goodbye. “If I only I had told you yes...”

She left her sister to say her goodbye to Stefan, wiping her tears away as she felt what was left of her heart crumble into bits.

Once, she had a family. And then she had her sister. Then she had her sister and an owner to her heart, the feeling of humanity returning to her undead body, feeling alive for the first time since her transition.

Now? She was back to having only her sister.

Damon felt the same way.

When he had woken, taking time to recover from the shock of being alive. Emily had told him how Katherine compelled Stefan to drink her blood, and he already knew that he drank Y/n’s blood willingly.

“There’s no point in living.” Damon pleaded with his brother after he tried to get him to feed, “They’re dead.”

Present Day

He ran into the tomb, desperate to find the sister of the vampire doppelganger. Damon sighed, ‘speaking of doppelgangers’, Elena had followed him, ignoring Sheila and Bonnie’s warnings.

“What’s that sound?”

“They can smell you.” He made his way through the tomb, eyes traveling from one decayed vampire to the other, cursing to himself each time they weren’t Y/n. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t give up. At some point, he’d gotten separated from Elena, but he didn’t care- never faltering in his search.

After spending more time looking for the vampire with negative results, Stefan had rushed in. He seemed anxious, desperate, ready to plead. And that he was. “Damon. We have to go.”

“She’s not here...” He felt like he was having a panic attack, which was more than likely. Damon threw the blood bag he had brought for her against the wall, “She’s- she’s not here, Stefan!”

“Who? Katherine? Look, I’m sorry that she’s not here, but we need to go!”

“No! Not Katherine! Y/n! She’s- she’s gone...she’s gone Stef.” Stefan furrowed his brows, feeling sympathy for his brother for a split second, then realizing how much time they were wasting.

“I’m sorry... Okay Damon? Maybe she didn’t die-”

“Don’t get my hopes up, alright?”

“Alright, I’m sorry. Really, I am. But- we need to go, like, right now.” He grabbed his brother and sped him out, gaining a boost with his vampire speed. The entire time he thought his brother was after the bad sister, but he was after the good one.

Opposites really do attract.

[writing-frenzy]

Plz let Airplane be EVEN MORE Awesome - Fic Rec Part Duo

*Stares at all the notes my last post got* Nice to know we are all just as Thirsty for the good boi as Mobei-Jun is.

So Thus, I have decided to make another! (Smashes the post button) Since there was a lot, I just decided to make another post.

here we go kids, more of that good Airplane love... alongside that good quality Moshang because I am biased~ 

(Plz share if you find more!)

a cup of vinegar, a spoon of sugar by Shamelesscooper - “Your timing certainly is impeccable, my lord,” Wei Wuxian groans, rubbing his back. “What brings you here for the second time in as many nights…?” “I left my cloak,” Mobei-Jun says, shooting Wei-Wuxian a dirty look as the bird demon shrugs his robe back on.“You certainly did!” Shang Qinghua exclaims, crossing his arms quite crossly. “You can’t just leave your things everywhere, my king!” Mobei-Jun’s hard stare refocuses on Shang Qinghua, and he can’t help but shrink back, hurriedly rummaging around in his qiankun pouch for the offending garment. As soon as Shang Qinghua finds it, Mobei-Jun takes it from his hands and throws it over his shoulders, breathing in a deep sigh as if it relieved him to have it there again. If you miss it so much, why did you even leave it behind?! Shang Qinghua almost wants to say, but he is quite fond of his head, actually, and would rather Mobei-Jun not take it off his shoulders, thankyouverymuch. 

--Shang Qinghua is tasked with escorting the leader of the Yiling Carrion Tribe to Gusu, and it'd be fine if only Mobei-Jun would stop poking his (gorgeous, beautiful, drop-dead handsome) head in!

*Evil grin* here we have a delicious rare side of Jealous Mobei, Shang Qinghua doing something that most MDZS fans dream of doing once, and a side of shamelessness from our favorite ‘Lovebirds’ XD Not to mention how steamy it gets~

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You Will Never Step Lightly In The Dark by Janusoverlord - Shang Qinghua wakes up in the aftermath of Tianlang-Jun's rampage on Cang Qiong Mountain and has to navigate the delicate political situation he now finds himself in. Luo Binghe is building a harem with Shen Qingqiu as his first, and honestly most terrifying, husband. Yet, Luo Binghe seems to be turning his eyes to Shang Qinghua as a possibility as well. Excuse you? What is this? He didn't sign up for this!

Okay, make sure you read the tags kiddies because uhhh, this has some themes to it. It is also part of a series as well, but I read it stand alone and it does good with how it explains things; as it is...

Let me just say, Luo Binghe does not know what he just got into; all mortals will bow to the might of our lord Airplane! I really did like this and I am tentatively on the fence about reading the rest of the series, because the writing is so damn good but we will see how my ship cravings twist.

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With Ink and Sword by xnemone - Shang Qinghua is appropriately nervous when he passes the Imperial Exams only to be assigned not to the Emperor’s palace, but to the barren lands ruled by a lord known to be as ruthless as he is cold. Although his friend and confidant Shen Qingqiu gives him a sympathetic smile and a mountain of furs before he sets off, Shang Qinghua feels less than reassured.He expects ridicule, a harsh regime, even rejection. What he does not expect is for Mobei-Jun to take one look at him among all the scholars and servants of his palace, and proclaim him his.

Now, this is such a good story, I love it, is makes me feel happy and squishy inside with the good Moshang, and you know what? It has my new favorite thing in the world!

Shang Qinghua calls Cucumber bro out! AND IT IS GLORIOUS!!! (Seriously, why does this not happen more often?)

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Good Vibrations by Feynite -  In Shang Qinghua’s defense, this whole trope was originally something he’d only ever written in for Sha Hualing, for precisely one scene.

In which I actually feel ashamed for forgetting such a treasure. Like, Feynite is a wonderful wordsmith, invoking so many thoughts and good shit with their words and characters, and by god do I end up just loving them even more then before.

This story passes the Vibe Check! (Luo Binghe also gets a Vibe Check~)

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From Your Perspective by cozycitywitch - It was nothing more than a curse, probably, and surly the witch doctor could fix it? So what else was Shang Qinghua to do inside Mobei Jun's body until the end of the night? He couldn't be blamed for his curiosity! He was only a man! Or the one where Moshang switch bodies and Shang Qinghua can't help himself.

Now, this is a lovely, spicy lime where while there is no big action or technical awesomeness going on, it does have some wonderful images; Shang Qinghua’s hamster body with the aura of a king, him showing off being intimating which means Shang Qinghua can indeed be scary, it is something that could happen if he has the motivation for it.

Not to mention this is just a hot story all around~ (My kingdom’s for My King’s POV on this~)

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ham hunt by jets_adjacent - There's a wolf at Shang Qinghua's heels and his only thought is: Northern mating rituals are a pain in the ass.

This is a really, really good A/B/O fic; it also shows just how tricky and sneaky our Shang Qinghua can be, as well as a mischievous side I just love seeing in our favorite Peak Lord. And let’s not forget the spicy goodness of this fic, which is really tasty~ (And can I get a shout out for consent and negotiated kinks!)

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In which healthy relationship skills are forcibly brought into Proud Immortal Demon Way by two bros by Rafaela271412421 -  Look, if no one is going to give these people friends and healthy relationships then by GOD, I WILL do it myself! It's about two bros bringing healthy relationships into PIDW both intentionally and not. Gods and deities, accidental and not, will also be included. Also, it's in bullet point format, so you’ve been warned.

ahahahahaahhahahahaahaha! I love this fucking outline/bullet points presentation, it is something I always end up going back to and giggling like an idiot. The is really a healing piece, my crops have been watered, my face is clear, and Airplane and Cucumber Bros go completely feral~ I love it, I want to propose marriage~

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trinkets for a king by jets_adjacent - Shang Qinghua gives many extraordinary gifts to his King. His King finally catches on. --aka: Mobei Jun has never been courted by a human before.

So, this is a wonderful subversion of the ‘Mobei-Jun courts/plans his wedding to Shang Qinghua all the while said man is unaware’. like, it is so cute and I love jelly Airplane; it gives me life. Also, one of the few we see Airplane taking full advantage of all his author knowledge and using it for the devious plans~

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The Southern King and The North Star by Luuplup - A series of meetings between the Southern King and a cultivator. The happy moments, the romantic moments, the sad moments.  

Another really cute Role Reversal I find I greatly enjoy, with a very competent, beloved Lord Demon!Airplane :D it makes me happy when I read it, I end up wanting to hug something~ It seems like it will be a slow burn, what with our favorite moronsexuals, but oh is it delicious seeing the buildup~ 

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under a wicked star by tagteamme - Caught unaware, Mobei Jun is kidnapped for leverage. On the eighth day, Mobei Jun is broken out of his trance by the sound of something being tossed into his pit. It’s a lot lighter than what they throw food down in. He realizes that today, he is not tied down.When he moves off the bed, he does not need the canopy post to support his weight as he stands up. The object on the floor glints in the firelight, and Mobei Jun crouches to pick it up. His face is immoving; slowly, he turns the An Ding peak lord crown in his hand, looking at the blood-soaked metal through the light.

SQH to the rescue! Alongside some good old fashioned angsty Moshang miscommunication but with Mobei-Jun’s POV this time, and some absolutely good steamy good times for all XD 

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we seal our fate by ketolic (corrose) - All things considered, it really was sort of obvious. Hey! Anyone can be a genius in retrospect. Hindsight is 20/20! Besides, who can blame him! He'd never written about this facet of Mobei Jun's life before! Still...considering all the times he'd gotten his hands on Mobei Jun's sealskin, he's sort of shocked that it took him so long to figure it out.

:D This story makes me giggle uncontrollably, and still finds ways to unexpectedly stab me in the heart. I love it! Not to mention we get to see SQH be awesome! Sure, he flails around as he does it, but busts out the fighting moves and even fits a rescue in there! So good, so in character, I love every watery moment of this fic... good thing I’m so thirsty- (Is shot)

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But yeah! These are some more good stories I found, some a bit more- urrrr- thirstier then others~ you can find the first thing of Fic Recs Here! And Plz, share more awesome Airplane whenever you have a chance~