#sorry I couldn’t fit in red prince’s picture

[gothamcitycentral]

Nobility

Red Prince: He is a war general destined to become the next emperor of the Ancient Empire. He was then exiled from his homeland for mingling with demons. His red colorization is rare among his people. He is a major character in an online RPG and can be an enemy, friend, or romantic partner based on the player’s actions.

Crondis: A demi-goddess with the head of a crocodile and the body of a woman, associated with resourcefulness and modesty. She is possessed by a crocodile monster called Ukunduka, which formed inside her as a result of Amascut tricking her into eating some corruption. Spends all her time sitting in a bath in her pyramid. Her high priest jokes that she was human when she got into the bath but got so wrinkly that she became a crocodile.

[iamvegorott]

Veggie I got terminated at my job for some stupid reasons because of a stupid manager. It was this whole thing that also costed the jobs of all the managers and half the staff. Is it alright if I can ask for a cute yanois blurb?

Holy hell, I’m so sorry that happened. Hopefully, everything works out for all of you in the end <3 Here’s some fluff for you!

----------

“I know it gonna sound a little silly, but I can’t help but miss it,” Yancy said with a small sigh as he and Illinois made their way down the hall out of the meeting room. Illinois had asked about growing up with Dark as his parent out of a random burst of curiosity. “But when I was really little, one of the first things I can remember, he used to pick me up, hug me tight and cover my head and face in kisses.” Yancy rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by his admission. “I know I’m too old and big for it, but sometimes it’s nice to think of those days before everything went hectic for a while.” 

“Too old and big?” Illinois asked with a scoff of disbelief in his voice. 

“Well, yeah. Mama’s not gonna pick up his grown son and kiss his head. That’s a little weird.” Yancy’s chuckle was soft and weak. Illinois was going to say something in protest to that, but Yancy’s attention was taken away by Bing calling out to him and saying he had to show him something. “I’ll be a minute,” Yancy told Illinois with a smile before heading off to see whatever was on Bing’s phone. 

Illinois stayed where he was, lost in thought as he debated, planned, and then decided what he would do as soon as Yancy and Bing finished talking. 

Yancy was never one to ask for much, still shocked whenever he’s given gifts despite literal years of being somewhat spoiled by almost everyone, himself and Dark being the ones who go about that the most. So whenever Yancy would ask for something or had an interest or want for something, Illinois couldn’t help himself from wanting to give Yancy anything and everything his heart would ever desire. 

“Make sure yous don’t get too beat up after you show Google that.” Yancy chuckled as Bing tucked his phone away. 

“Oh, Googs would never do that, but I’m definitely getting in trouble for taking that picture of him.” Bing chuckled. “I should head off. See ya.” He did a two-finger salute and stepped away as Yancy gave him the same salute back. Yancy then turned to go back to Illinois, not expecting him to be right there. Illinois bent a bit, wrapped an arm around Yancy’s legs and torso, and lifted him. The hold was almost bridal style, but their chests pressed together. 

“Illinois!” Yancy yelped and started laughing as Illinois covered his head and face with kisses. “What are you doing!?” Illinois peppered on a few more kisses and then put Yancy back down on his feet, chuckling at how red Yancy’s face had gotten. 

“You said you were too big and old for that, and I proved you wrong.” Illinois grinned. There was a pause as Yancy processed everything, and then he scratched his cheek, asking softly. 

“Could you do it again?” 

“Of course, my prince.” Illinois winked before scooping Yancy right back up and getting a fit of giggles from Yancy.

It was always lovely when Yancy would let go and enjoy himself. 

[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted — jean kirstein x fem! reader

series masterlist

prev | next , part two

warnings: cursing, porco being toxic lol. dates are wrong once again sorry !!

[ playlist : love again - dua lipa ]

eight.

Half asleep and ready to go to bed, Y/N fell back into her bed. She picked up her phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll through some TikToks. Instead, she was met with two messages. Audibly gasping as she read Porco’s name, she dropped her phone, hitting herself in the face in the process. “Ow!”

Porco? Y/N thought incredulously. What the hell does he want?

Contemplating asking Ymir and Sasha for advice, Y/N then decided against it. This was her life, she couldn’t expect her friends to guide her though it. But God, was she such a coward when it came to Porco. It wasn’t like he was Prince Charming, but Y/N had an extreme loyalty complex. She couldn’t ever allow herself to let go of people. Porco used to berate her for that constantly.

Why are you so clingy? He would ask.

Who’s the clingy one now? Y/N thought bitterly. She decided to ignore Porco’s text until she could think of a reply that wasn’t along the lines of “No, fuck you.” She slid her thumb over to Jean’s message.

Great. Another text asking to talk. Why couldn’t people just send their question and save a girl the anxiety? Y/N scolded herself for allowing her egotistical ex to ruin her mood. Jean didn’t deserve her snappiness.

Jean sighed in relief. Thank God she replied. He didn’t know if he could handle the mortification if she didn’t.

Y/N pondered for a bit.

Y/N laughed quietly to herself. So Jean could in fact match her sense of humor. She exited out of their chat, mindlessly scrolling through social media. She actively avoided Porco’s message, not wanting to burden herself with the chore of responding to him. What could he possibly have to say? She headed to Twitter, hopefully finding something relatable to retweet. As Y/N scrolled, she saw a familiar face appear on her timeline.

Recommended for you from contacts, the header read. Below it was about 3 profiles of people in her contacts she had not followed yet. Among them, was Jean.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Should I? She questioned. Would she be overstepping some unspoken boundary? What if she hurt her own feelings by stalking and seeing something she wouldn’t like/had no business seeing? Maybe she should just ignore it. She doubted Jean was some internet creep… but wouldn’t it be good to know if he was? Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N decided to invade that boundary and look at his account.

He didn’t have much content from what Y/N could see. He just retweeted fancy cars and some funny memes. She spotted Connie, Sasha’s lifelong friend and Jean’s infamous roomie. She mentally hoped Jean didn’t tweet like Connie. That would be the ultimate ick.

Y/N’s thumb stopped scrolling, hovering over a tweet. Her heart beated ten times more rapidly.

well she is pretty lol, Jean’s tweet read. Tweeted just an hour after he met Y/N.

Could it be? Y/N wondered. No way. There’s no way it’s about me. I’m just jumping to conclusions. Why would he say that about me? I’m just being self absorbed.

She brushed off her inquiries, deciding to just stop stalking his account entirely. From what she already saw, there wasn’t anything suspicious or icky enough to make her want to not interact with him. And she was already paranoid, so every tweet she saw she would begin to assume it was about her as well. She was just getting her hopes up.

Rolling over on her side, Y/N placed her phone to charge and went to sleep. It was late, which was probably what was causing her mind to become fuddled.

——

“You should’ve told me Sasha’s third roomie was Y/N,” Reiner had said to Jean in the truck. “I totally blindsided her. Top ten worst encounters of my life.”

“Uh, care to enlighten me? Do you guys have beef or something?” Jean asked, perusing the radio stations.

Reiner sighed. “She’s dating- was dating- my childhood friend, Porco.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

Reiner glanced at him before stopping at a red light. “I said dating. He dumped her like a week ago. It was pretty trash.”

Jean secretly felt more at peace hearing that. Poor Y/N, but.. she could probably do better than this Porco person.

“So what does that have to do with you?” Jean asked.

Reiner shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really help. She said she felt a little betrayed. Like I agreed with Porco and my friends that she’s the crazy one.”

Jean nodded. “So you were a bystander.”

Reiner sighed again, tilting his head in an I guess motion. “It’s just hard. Porco’s like my brother, and I don’t agree with how he acted… but maybe I should have spoken up sooner.”

Jean patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, man. That was between them.”

“Yeah. I could have at least told Porco to step it up, though.” Reiner murmured.

I’m glad you didn’t. Jean snickered to himself.

“So, you think she’s cute?” Reiner shot Jean a devilish grin. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. You goin’ to Historia’s birthday?” He slyly changed the subject.

“Is it open invite?” Reiner’s eyebrows scrunched up.

Jean shrugged. “I have an invite. Maybe you can be my plus one.”

Reiner made a “Hmm” sound in response, weary at Jean’s invite. “What are you dressing as if you go?”

“I was thinking swag era Justin Bieber.” Jean replied, smiling widely.

Reiner gave him a look. “You for real?”

Jean’s smile dropped. “What?”

Reiner laughed. “I’d pay money to see how badly you embarrass yourself with that.”

“It’s a 2000’s party?” Jean was confused.

“Yeah, but everyone does like, early 2000s. Think Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.”

Jean shot him a curious look.

“What? Pop culture is my guilty pleasure.” Reiner explained himself. “And everyone knows Britney Spears.”

Jean hummed in response. “I just think you got a thing for pop girls.” He referenced the earlier Becky G mishap.

“I’m not even gonna deny it anymore.” Reiner agreed, defeated.

——

“Guys,” Y/N said the next morning. Ymir and Sasha were at the breakfast “nook” (a corner of their miniature kitchen designated for a small table that barely fit all three of them), Sasha eating cereal and Ymir chomping on an apple while scrolling on her phone. “Porco texted me last night.”

Ymir continued scrolling, unfazed. Sasha’s eyes widened and she swallowed her food before speaking. “What? Why?” Y/N glared at Ymir.

“Thanks for your interest YMIR, but as i was telling Sasha-“

“I’m Sasha.” Sasha cut in, obviously confused.

Y/N gave Sasha a look.

“Did you say something?” Ymir said, bored. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone.

“Ymir!” Sasha scolded. “Y/N’s telling us Porco texted her!”

“Who’s Porco?” Ymir replied, monotonous.

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “Are you stalking Eren again? I already told you to stop comparing your subscribers-“

“I’m not stalking Eren!” Ymir snapped defensively. “I’m…” She mumbled the next part incoherently.

“Huh?” Sasha and Y/N asked in unison.

“I SAID,” Ymir repeated, annoyed. “I’m looking up Britney Spears outfits. Historia wanted us to go as different eras of her. But I can’t find anything that matches my style.” She grumbled.

Y/N’s heart melted. It was adorable watching Ymir struggle to find a matching costume for Historia. It was like Marilyn Manson wanting to get along with a CareBear.

“Just go as JT,” Sasha said, chewing her cereal.

“One, close your mouth, and two, Historia asked for us to go as Brittney. I can’t just show up like a dude.” Ymir visibly deflated as she scrolled through countless pictures of a younger Spear’s iconic looks.

“Why don’t you try her bandanna phase? That wasn’t so over the top, and she wore mostly jeans.” Y/N suggested as she squeezed into the corner chair.

Ymir sighed. “I don’t want to wear a skirt or some bimbo shit. That’s y’alls look.”

“How do you manage to sound endearing trying to please your girlfriend while simultaneously insulting us?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“It’s a talent.” Ymir waved her off. “What did you guys get her though?”

“A giftcard to Urban Outfitters,” Sasha replied. “I got tired of searchin’. I put $50 on it. I think that should be enough for like, a shirt and a half. She better like it, too. ‘Cus I’m broke.” Sasha pointed her spoon at Ymir accusingly.

“I got her the Taylor Swift vinyl she’s been wanting. And some pink film for her camera.” Y/N added. Ymir nodded approvingly.

“I hope she likes my gift. I don’t know if I’m moving too fast though?” For the first time since Y/N mer Ymir, Y/N hadn’t ever seen her this distraught.

“Calm down,” Y/N reassured her. “You’ve been together for years now. I don’t think you can move any slower.”

Ymir rolled her eyes, leaning back im her chair with arms crossed. “It’s a small trip to Seoul. I know she’s been dying to go. It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before with her family… but I figure it’d be different with just us.” Y/N’s heart melted.

“That’s so sweet!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes watery. “I want an Ymir!”

“Well, you can’t have me!” Ymir laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The sponsorship I managed to land gave me a decent payout.” Ymir sheepishly replied, her cheeks a faint red

Y/N nudged her. “Look at you, being modest.”

Ymir waved her hand. “Shut up. How does this look?” She turned her phone to Y/N, showing a picture of Britney Spears clad in low waist jeans, a black tank top and sure enough, a yellow bandanna.

“That’s perfect.”

Ymir smirked, smug. “Just like me.”

“Y/N!” Sasha shouted. “Go back to the Porco thing!”

“Oh, yeah. What did Oinky want?” The girls turned to face Y/N, who shrank a bit back in her seat.

“That’s a new one,” Y/N chuckled. “I thought of one last night, too,” She paued for dramatic effect. “Porker!” She gasped out, giggling, hitting the table in a slight fit of laughter. Sasha and Ymir gave Y/N a blank stare, unamused at Y/N’s mediocre roast.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.” Sasha spat.

“If your career was stand up you’d be living in a box.” Ymir deadpanned.

“Tough crowd,” Y/N sighed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. “But if you must know…” She purposely stalled a bit, knowing it would send an impatient, jittery Sasha over the edge and annoy Ymir even more, even if she pretended she was not interested in the relationship drama between Y/N and her disgraced ex.

“Just say it already!” Sasha begged.

“I…don’t know. I haven’t responded.” Y/N finally admitted, putting her head in her hands. “I just-“ Her words were muffled by her hands.

Ymir removed her hands from her face. “Your words, darling.” She scolded, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned. “I’m too pussy to respond. He just asked if we could talk. What could he possibly want? What if he wants the couch? It’s just too much.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Just leave him on read! If he wants to talk so badly he’ll find a way to say what he needs to.”

“For once, I agree.” Ymir added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Y/N stretched. “But it did keep me up at night wondering what he wanted.”

“Y/N, forget him! Historia’s party is soon, there’s no time to worry about ugly men!” Sasha stood up, rushing to put her bowl in the sink. “I got a lecture in a few, but you need to find your costume! We’re all going as Britney!” She said before disappearing into her room.

“Um, who’s gonna tell her we’re not all dressing as Britney?” Ymir inquired.

Y/N snorted. “Not I. I’m probably going as Suki from Fast and the Furious.”

“Niiceee,” Ymir fist pumped Y/N. “She was my sexual awakening.” Y/N choked on her muffin.

“Ymir, what’d we say about uncalled for horniness?” Y/N reprimanded. Ymir made her way to the coat rack, searching for her car keys in her leather jacket’s pocket.

“If I was gonna be chewed out for liking women I would’ve lived with my parents!” Ymir called out. “I gotta pick up Historia!”

“Will you be back?” Y/N shouted back.

“Get off my dick!” Ymir shut the door. Laughing to herself, Y/N picked up Ymir’s dish to place in the sink. She was, out of the three, the more tidier one. Ymir did the best cleaning, but she was selectively lazy.

“Bye, Y/N!” Sasha shouted before leaving in a rush. One thing Y/N had grown used to was the fairly chaotic mornings. She secretly hoped they would be like this for a long time.

Since Y/N had transferred, Ymir and Sasha had been the best roommates she could ask for. Yes, Ymir was snappy and Sasha was a bit ditzy, but it was the perfect combination and they were respectful. Y/N had transferred from Sina University purely for academic reasons, but she had not expected to fit in so well with the girls or their group of pre establish friends. She worried she would not fit in since they had already been so tight-knit, but found that wasn’t the case at all. They were open, accepting and loyal. Y/N couldn’t be happier where she was, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful for how close they had all gotten in their short time together. Who knew randomly assigned rooming would provide her with friendship to last a lifetime?

Which is why every time she thought about Porco she kicked herself. How could she have let some… meathead ruin her freshmen year of college? She should have been having fun, interacting with Ymir and Sasha’s friends more, lived her own life. But no, she chose to become involved with a self absorbed fraternity guy of all people. Now she was semi-heartbroken, extremely humiliated, and about a year’s worth of time and effort short. She had allowed him to take advantage of her so much, that he felt he could contact her still after basically using her. The thought made her want to rip her hair out and scream.

Almost as if through divine intervention, her phone beeped with a notification.

What the actual hell? Y/N thought.

She froze for a second. What does she do? Respond? Ignore? Block?

After a few seconds of mental deliberation, Y/N finally decided. She was fed up with the lack of bravery she showed and decided to just end it once and for all. Typing out a response, she clicked send and decided to go to the mall for the retail therapy she was sure to need after whatever Porco said what he wanted to say. Turning the shower on, she braced herself for his response. What could Porco want? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

This better be good, Y/N thought.

taglist : @tsunderehokage @lagrimasdeglitter @snowyseungs @mukeovernetflix @bakugouswh0r3 @punicorn999 @deadlyaffairs @usernamehere91 @calumsfringe

a/n: woohoo!! long chapter. so to recap: i graduated!! i am finally free from the clutches of high school. i might do a face reveal :) bc i loved my grad dress. anywho, my fever cleared up, i have chapter 9 already completed (just need to revise + edit) and this is NOT proof read!! it’s 2 am guys i’m tired. but i hope you enjoyed this :) sorry for the weird cropping too. peace out

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Love Story

For the anon who asked : i don’t know if you like ts but with her releasing a new version of “love story” it’d be so cute to see how you’d write a fic about the song 🥺 maybe malfoy reader x harry ?? i think that’d be a good fit

Harry Potter x Malfoy!Reader

We were both young when I first saw you

I close my eyes and the flashback starts

“The name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and this is my sister, Y/N Malfoy,” The pale blonde boy extended his hand to Harry, and he neglected to take it, but he couldn’t help but to look at the pretty girl behind him, who seemed annoyed by her brother antics. “You must be a Weasley,” He sneered at Harry’s new friend, “Red hair, and hand-me-down robes.” The girl rolled her eyes, tugging her brother by the back of his cloak. 

“Knock it off, Draco,” She warned, and he glared at her before turning to Harry again. 

“You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter,” Harry glanced at the girl again, and she met his eye, smiling slightly from behind her brother. He lifted one corner of his lips in response, and Draco glanced from him to his sister over his shoulder before glaring at Harry again, “You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort.” 

“I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” Harry responded, ignoring the outstretched hand again. He glanced at the girl again who was smirking, eyes twinkling in the candlelight. 

“That went well,” She laughed as her brother turned back to her and the other kids they were standing with. 

“Shut up, Y/N,” When you laughed, Harry couldn’t help but to smile slightly himself, you had a nice laugh, how you were related to that goon he would never know. And it was a question he would continue to ask himself time after time as the years passed and Draco became even more of a git and you became.. Well.. even more wonderful in Harry’s eyes. 

See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns

See you make your way through the crowd

And say, "Hello"

Harry sat dejectedly alone on the outskirts of the Yule Ball, playing with the hem of his dressing gown. He wouldn’t have come if he didn’t have to, and now his date had ditched him. In her defense, he was a lousy date. He didn’t want to dance, and he wasn’t in a very fun mood. Then he saw you, and his heart nearly fell out of his chest. You looked beautiful, and the crowd seemed to part for you as you walked. Not walked, glided. Your dress was stunning, all sparkles and flowy, you looked angelic. And you were coming towards him. 

“Hello, Harry,” You greeted him, you cheeks were flushed from dancing and laughing, and he found himself wishing he was the one to make you laugh. 

“H-Hello, Y/N.” 

“Alright?” You asked, sitting in the empty chair beside him. You had spoken over the years at Hogwarts, you had too, it was a small school and you had plenty of classes together. But you had never sought him out for a conversation before. He opened his mouth a few times before shrugging his shoulders, looking down at his feet. 

“Alright,” He assured, “Balls aren’t really my thing, I suppose.” You nodded understandingly, smiling at him and he felt his cheeks heat up and his hands went clammy. 

“I understand, they’re usually rotten. My mother throws a lot of them, but this is actually fun.” You assured, “You should dance,” Harry blushed deeper and shook his head, pushing his glasses up on his nose when they slid down. 

“I’m not a dancer,” You laughed and he smiled softly. You were so beautiful when you laughed. How you and Malfoy were related was beyond him. 

“Suit yourself,” You grinned, getting up from the seat beside him. He wanted to say something witty, something that would make you want to stay and talk to him, but nothing came out. “See you around, Harry,” And like that you were gone, walking on clouds back towards the dancefloor, and Harry was alone again with his thoughts. 

After that night though, things were slightly different. When you saw him you would smile, and say hello to him, even sometimes in front of your brother, and Harry would say hello back. You talked more, even if it was just small talk during classes or when you passed each other in the corridor. But Harry treasured those moments more than he cared to admit. 

That you were Romeo, you were throwin' pebbles

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

“I heard you’ve made a friend,” Your father sneered, eyes not lifting from the Daily Prophet. You glanced at your brother who had the decency to look down at his lap. 

“Who?” You asked, playing dumb, but you knew who he was talking about. 

“Potter,” You father spat out, glancing at you from above the paper, “I don’t want you anywhere near that boy,” 

“We’re hardly friends, father,” You rolled your eyes when he went back to reading and shot a dirty look Draco’s way. 

“I don’t care what you call it. I don’t want you having anything to do with Harry Potter, that is an order.” You got up from the table, leaving your dinner untouched as you marched past your family towards the stairs, mumbling under your breath. “What was that?” Your father called after you but you kept walking. He couldn’t tell you what to do. 

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

You cornered Harry in the corridor one day after class, hands on your hips. He looked at you worriedly. 

“Yes?” 

“I want to join Dumbledore’s Army.” You stated, hands still firmly on your hips. His eyes widened. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Cut the crap,” You rolled your eyes, “Everyone has heard the rumors. I want to join.” He looked at you sketically. 

“Why?” You blinked a few times and your hands dropped from your hips, but you maintained eye contact with the boy. 

“Same reason you started it, I want to be prepared. I know.. I know he’s back.” Harry looked at you nervously, “And I need to do my part.” He considered your words for a moment. He could tell you were genuine, he just knew.

“Can I show you something?” You nodded your head and Harry turned, walking down the corridor, and you followed him. He led you to the 5th floor and to an empty expanse of stone wall. You both stopped walking and you looked up at Harry raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You wanted to show me, a wall?” You asked and the boy chuckled. 

“No, well, yes, but watch.” So you watched, and suddenly a door materialized in front of you. You let out a gasp, stepping back in surprise, Harry smiled at you before stepping forward and opening the door, gesturing for you to go inside. Once you did you were met with a grand room, there was an area for practicing spells and a giant fireplace on the far wall, closer to you was a board with spells and tactics written out, along with a picture. You stepped up to the board and looked it over, they were learning some advanced magic. Harry stepped up beside you as you kept looking it over. You got to the picture and glanced at him. 

“Who are they?” You asked quietly.

“They called themselves the Order of the Phoenix.” He explained, pointing to two people in the picture, “My parents, and a bunch of other wizards banded together in order to fight Voldemort in the first war.” You winced at the name but nodded, taking a closer look at the picture. 

“And now you’re following in their footsteps.” He shrugged slightly and you smiled up at the boy, “They would be proud Harry.” 

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

Hiding the DA meetings from Draco was easier than you thought it would be, mostly because he was so caught up in his own troubles. Namely, finding the DA for Umbridge. He didn’t even notice you were barely around anymore. 

You received an owl one evening while you were reading in your dormroom, and you let the bird in, taking the rolled up parchment from it’s foot before letting it out again. 

Meet me at the Quidditch Pitch, 12am. 

Harry

You smiled at the note, tucking it into the book and checking the time. Only ten. You and Harry had been spending a lot of time together in secret, away from your brother’s prying eyes. You were becoming close, and when you were around him you felt safe and seen for the first time in your life. 

Once all your dormmates were asleep, you got dressed in silence and snuck out of the room, down through the common room, and through the castle. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked through the dark grounds in the direction of the pitch. You finally got there and looked around for the boy in question. 

“Y/N, over here!” He called in a loud whisper and you turned your head, seeing him sitting under the seats of the pitch. You smiled and went to him, plopping down beside him. 

“Hiya, Harry,” You greeted him, shivering slightly, he looked you over before shrugging his cloak off, handing it over to you, “Oh, you don’t have to do that, you’ll get cold.” You argued, but he insisted so you took it, wrapping it around yourself. “What’s up?” 

“I just missed you, I wanted to see you,” He admitted and you felt your cheeks go rosy, you hoped he wouldn’t notice with the cold. 

“I’ve missed you too,” You admitted, smiling softly. Harry fidgeted nervously before leaning over to brush a lock of hair behind your ear. You blushed deeper and looked down at your lap. 

“I wanted to tell you something,” He spoke gently and you glanced up again. 

“Yes?” 

“Y/N,” He started, messing up his own locks, “I just.. I really like you, is all.” He looked down again, “Sorry if that makes things weird.” You sat for a moment and let his words sink in before you leaned over, placing a small kiss on Harry’s cheek. You watched him go beet red and you chuckled. 

“I like you too, Harry.” You admitted, and he grinned at you, you grinned back. 

“Brilliant.. That’s brilliant.” 

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go,"

It all happened so fast. They found the Room of Requirements, and you were all to be punished. Your brother wasn’t speaking to you, your father would know soon enough. You feared having to go home to him, to his punishments. Then Harry saw Sirius, trapped inside the ministry- he needed help. 

“You’re not going alone,” You argued, following him as the boy stormed off, “Harry, you’re not going alone!” 

“I can’t believe I am saying this, but Malfoy is right, mate, you aren’t going there alone.” Ron chimed in, half a step behind you. Harry stopped, turning to look at your motley crew. You, Hermione, Ron, Nevile, Ginny, and Luna stood there, looking determined. 

“And you aren’t coming with me!” 

“Harry,” Hermione reasoned, “This is why we’ve been training, we are your friends, we’re coming to help you.” Harry gave a small nod and your future was set in stone. Hours later you found yourself deep in the ministry of magic, surrounded by crystal balls full of prophecies. Suddenly you were surrounded by death eaters, it was a trap. 

“Y/N?” A familiar voice asked from behind a mask and you flinched, stepping back.

“Father?” 

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, glancing worriedly at you then to the man in the mask, his wand raised. 

“Child, come here. Now.” He ordered. 

“No,” You stepped back further, heart thudding out of your chest.

“I said, come here, you insolent little girl.” He reached a hand towards you and you twisted away from him. 

“I said no!” You threw a curse in his general direction and the mask was knocked from his face, and you were forced to stare into the eyes of your father. 

“If you do not come here right now you are never welcome back into my house again, do you understand me?” There was no warmth behind those cold eyes, there was nothing. 

“Go to hell,” 

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

You didn’t go home that summer, true to your word. Your brother didn’t even look at you when you returned for school the next year. You had spent the summer with the Weasleys, something you never imagined you would do. But they were good to you, much better than your own family had ever been. But Harry was distant, and you tried to be understanding, you knew he was going through a lot with the loss of his godfather. 

You talked to Hermione a lot that year, ostracised by your own house. And you found some solace in the fact that he was being distant with them as well, it wasn’t just you. Slowly he came around. You did your best to be there for him, to be whatever he needed. A shoulder to cry on, someone to make him laugh, whatever he needed. You spent more and more time in their common room, and less and less time plagued by dirty looks in your own. 

You worried about your brother, you could see he was struggling, but everytime you even attempted to reach out to him you were brushed off. A war was looming over each and every one of your heads and it came closer everyday. It all came to a crashing catalyst at the end of the year, when Dumbledore was murdered and rumors flew that your brother had a hand in it. 

You went home with Harry and the Weasleys again that summer, trying to leave some of the worry behind, but you couldn’t. One night you sat outside, late, by yourself, trying to collect your thoughts when the backdoor opened and Harry stepped outside. 

“Hey,”

“Hey,” You whispered, scooting over on the bench to give him some room to sit. 

“Alright?” You shrugged, looking ahead into the darkness. 

“I don’t know,” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself. Harry watched you for a moment before sighing and adjusting his glasses. 

“I’m sorry,” You looked over at him confused. 

“For what?”

“For everything. I got you into this,” You shook your head smiling softly. 

“I got myself into this.” You corrected, “And I wouldn’t change it for anything. I know I am doing the right thing.” Harry nodded and reached over, taking your hand in his. 

“Even if it cost you your family?” 

“Yes.” You nodded, squeezing his hand in yours, “I’m not like them Harry, I never could be. I... I miss Draco. Little Draco. The young boy who was full of life. That boy... the boy he is now isn’t my brother. My father has brainwashed him beyond repair. And I mourn for him, but there is nothing I can do besides keep fighting.” Harry leaned over and kissed your temple. 

“I love you,” He breathed, “You’re the bravest woman I know.” 

“I love you too, Harry.” 

I got tired of waiting

Wonderin' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town

Months passed, and you felt like you were no closer to your goal. Ron was gone, Hermione wouldn’t admit it but she was falling to pieces, and Harry barely spoke anymore. You felt like you were failing him, failing everyone. He barely looked at you anymore and that was hard considering you were trapped together in a tiny tent, traveling from hiding spot to hiding spot. 

One night you approached him, with your concerns and he exploded. 

“Then leave!” He cried out and you flinched. 

“I didn’t say I wanted to leave!” You argued back. 

“I don’t want to do this with you, Y/N, if you can’t handle it, then go.” 

“I am not leaving you, Harry!” 

“Go back home to your death eater family!” 

“You’re a twat!” 

“I should have never let you join Dumbledore’s Army!” You knew he was lashing out because he was hurt, but it didn’t make you hurt any less. You felt tears in your eyes. 

“I am not leaving you.” You spat at him, “I don’t care what hurtful things you say to me, I love you, you don’t leave the people you love.” His face softened slightly but he turned from you. 

“I need some air.” He left the tent and you glanced over to Hermione who shrugged helplessly. Helpless. That about summed it all up. 

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

I love you and that's all I really know

Just like that the war was over. You stood and counted your dead. You had to watch as your brother walked away from you once again, into your parents arms. There was no hug or glance for you. You stood in the Great Hall, arms wrapped around yourself as the tears flowed freely. It was over, but at what cost? 

“Y/N?” You turned and looked at Harry, seeing his own eyes red and puffy. 

“Harry.” You greeted him, offering him a hand which he took, coming to stand beside you. You stood in silence for a while, looking around at all you had lost. 

“Y/N?” He repeated your name, and you turned to look up at him, he looked down at you, eyes side, but his lips tugged slightly at a smile. “I didn’t really plan on doing this right now, I thought it would be much more... romantic.” 

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brow. Harry fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing something. It was a simple silver ring. 

“I’ll get you something nicer when we have the time,” 

“Oh..” You whispered, free hand going to your mouth. 

“I want to be yours. Forever.” He knelt down in front of you, and the hushed voices around you lapsed into silence. “I want you to marry me, we almost lost each other today, and I can’t wait another moment. I need good to come from today, and this is the best thing in the world to me. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” You whispered, nodding your head, “Harry yes, of course,” He stood up and pulled you into a tight hug, there was some clapping, more crying, more hugging from everyone. It might not have been the perfect love story, but it was yours. And that made it perfect to you.

[polonium-snap]

The Beauty & the Deku chp. 2

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

Wattpad

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When Katsuki comes to, he is washing some stairs.”Wha-? This again? You’ve got to be forking kidding me.” He stood up, inspecting his clothes, some raggedy top, and pants, which at least is not a dress,  and went to a nearby well, staring at his reflection on the water, scowling.

“Kacchan?” He heard Deku’s voice from behind, and the blonde turned to him.

“Deku!” Katsuki said. “As you can see, we are still trapped in this nightmare.” He frowns. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s continue trying to go along with the story, maybe if we do it enough times, we’ll get out of here.” Izuku suggested.

Katsuki growled. “Shut up! What do you know? This is probably your fault since you didn’t have to be at the house in the end.”

Deku frowned. “Oh yeah, Cinderella totally broke through a door like you did.”

The blonde scowled back, blustering and turning to look away from Izuku. “Whatever.”

Which was Kacchan-speak for ‘I’m sorry, you’re right', good thing Deku was an expert at reading his childhood friend. “We should continue trying to go along with the story, this time as much as we can with the original.”

“No way, nerd. I already gave that a try and we are still trapped in this hellhole.” Katsuki argued. “It makes more sense to try and make the story different, if it doesn’t let us move on we can find the reason more easily.”

“What if that just makes us be stuck here forever, Kacchan?” Izuku argued back. “Let’s do it like the story says one more time, then if we are still here we’ll try your thing.”

The blonde frowned but sighed. “Fine.”

Izuku let out the breath he was holding and stared into red eyes. “Thank you.”

Silence hung heavy for a second between them for several seconds. “I’m sorry…” Bakugou mutters, surprising Deku. “You know, for kissing you at the end…”

Izuku blushed furiously. “Oh! Uhm, i-i-it’s ok Kacchan, that actually made us move on, so…”

The implication of the previous statement weighs on them, and the silence only makes heat rise faster and more intensely into Deku’s face. If the kiss was what made them move on, did that mean they would have to again until they were out of there?

The most obvious answer was there, if they were in Snow White, like Izuku suspected, that meant they had to kiss to be able to continue with the story.

“Wh-What story are we in anyway?” Katsuki asked if only to fill the silence.

“O-oh, I think we are in Snow White.” Izuku reasoned.

“How are we meeting so early then, isn’t the prince supposed to kiss snow white at the end?” The blonde tried to remember.

“No, I think they met right at the start of the Disney movie.” Izuku explained.

“Crap I can’t remember.” The taller teen rubbed his hand on his face. “How am I going to go along with the story if I can't remember how it goes?”

The green-haired boy bit his lip, he couldn’t blame Kacchan, apart from this being a stressful situation, it has been a long time since either of them either saw the movies or read any books with fairy tales on them. “I think I know how it goes, just make sure to go near the forest and run away from the huntsman and look for a small house, it belongs to some dwarfs.” He explains. “Make sure they let you stay, cook and clean for them or something, the evil queen will look for you, to kill you, she will give you an apple, bite it, I’ll take care of the rest and then we’ll ride off to the sunset.”

“My prince.” Katsuki said sarcastically, and Izuku glared, but his cheeks felt hot. “I got it, I got it, I’m just tired of cleaning stuff, like I knew old men hate women in these stories and think their only use is to cook and clean, I get it, old news, but it’s annoying as heck, you know?”

“I get it Kacchan, I’m sorry, but I really think that we can get out if we follow the script as much as we can.”

“Yeah, except we can barely remember how it goes, you lame nerd, even just talking like this can change the story.” The fiery teen started to raise his tone. “We’re already doomed.”

Izuku cringed. “You’re right, but there must be plot points that make us move on, you know like in Cinderella, the background repeated until we did what it wanted, to move on we need to keep doing just that.” He tried to placate the other man. “This is the best plan we have right now, just go with it until we can think of something better.”

Katsuki stands staring at the other teen for a few seconds, glaring, but pondering what was said all the same. “Fine, but we better get out of this, or I’m going to explode.” He turned away and started walking toward the palace. “See you later, nerd, don’t you dare die.” He closed the doors, leaving Izuku staring.

The wardrobes the stories were putting the blonde in were killing him, he looked so handsome, even in dresses. Now the blonde wasn’t exactly wearing a dress, but elements of it were clearly borrowed, Kacchan was in rags but still looked amazing.

Izuku shook his head, this was not the time to be fawning over Kacchan, he turned around and left the grounds of the palace, unsure of what to do with himself. Jesus, fairy tale princes really were useless and had one shitty line, like Kacchan had said, though maybe like this, he could look for clues.

He looked down and sighed, even his clothes were boring.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Katsuki changes his clothes because he is not staying in some ugly rags, besides he is 70% sure Snow White wasn’t dressed so badly, she needs to be marketable, little kids wouldn't buy merch of her if she looked ugly right?

He went near the forest, as Deku had said, and sat on a rock, at least the scenery was always interesting in these stories, as Katsuki had never gone out of Japan, he could almost pretend he was visiting Europe or some shit.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Said a voice, which startled the fuck out of the blonde.

“Jesus fu-!” Katsuki turned around to find Rikido Sato, from his class. “Sato?! You are the huntsman?”

The other man’s eyes widened. “You know my name?!” His eyes watered. “The queen has never called me by my name.”

Katsuki hadn’t either until just then, but he wasn’t about to say that to a man with a weapon while he remained quirkless. “Yes, of course I know your name!” He lied, he was lucky with Sato’s last name, he was between Sato and Sota. “I’m going to be the next ruler of this kingdom, and you my loyal subject.” He was talking out of his ass. “How could I not know your name?”

Sato dropped the knife. “I can’t do it!” He cried. “The queen is trying to kill you, your best option is to run as far as you can and hope she never finds you!”

Katsuki stood up from the ground and scrubbed the dirt off his clothes. “Right, thank you, I guess, for not killing me or whatever.” He jogged into the forest, enjoying it more than he normally would, maybe because it had been a while since he had been able to make one of his mornings runs.

At some point, his foot got tangled on some tree roots and he came crashing to the ground. “Argh!” He exclaimed. “Dumb tree, dumb story, dumb Deku!” He raged, and sat on the ground, finding the cabin could wait. As he lay on the ground feeling sorry for himself he felt small tweets from above, and slowly, animals from the forest came out and stared at him.

The blonde groaned. “One of you better not be Dunce face or Hair for brains.” He couldn’t take any more woodland animals as his friends, although thankfully it seemed none of them was anyone he knew. “What are you doing here then, If not to torture me?”

All the animals started to walk toward somewhere, and Katsuki, having nothing better to do went with them, only to find the small house Deku talked about. He opened the door, finding the insides absolutely filthy. And as much as Katsuki had complained he disliked cleaning, he disliked even more letting it stay filthy.

‘Fucking fine’ He thought because only in his mind he could use his favorite words. “You win, stupid Deku, I’ll clean this pigsty.” Katsuki picked up a broom and started sweeping the comical amounts of dust and dirt, the animals around him started to do the same, and for the first time, he didn’t mind the small woodland animals that seemed to follow him lately.

When he finally finished he realized how tired he was, it had been a few days since he last slept, so maybe now he could take a nap. Bakugou climbed the stairs, peering at the small beds with the dwarf's names, he pushed some of them together so he could fit in and dropped like a log on them, paying no mind to the few small animals that cuddled him, he was too tired for that shit.

He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

“What is that? Is it a ghost?” Said a fearful but familiar voice.

“Ha! There’s no such thing as a ghost.” An angrier voice said.

“Who cares, ghosts can’t touch you, let’s just sleep and be done with it.” Said another voice that sounded just like Aizawa.

With his sleep finally disrupted Katsuki decided to sit up and fuck up anyone who dared wake him. When he rose from the bed, multiple gasps were heard. “What is it now?” He said, the blanket still over his head, which he removed slowly.

When he finally could see, he found seven eerily familiar dwarfs looking at him and gasping once again.

“Prince!” One of them exclaimed. “What are you doing here, young prince?”

Holy shit, this dwarf was All Might. Katsuki gaped at the blonde dwarf, his face a picture of the man’s old glory.

The teen looked at the others, Aizawa, Present Mic, Koda, Kirishima, Kaminari...and Endeavour?!

“Let me guess, you,” Bakugou pointed at Aizawa. “Are sleepy, you,” Present Mic, who let out a very loud sneeze. “Are Sneezy, you,” Koda blushed. “Bashful.” Then Kirishima. “You are Happy, I guess.” Kaminari. “Dunce face, you are obviously Dopy.” Bakugou laughed. “This must be Todoroki’s old man, Endeavour.” The red-haired dwarf fumed. “That leaves you All Might, I guess you are Doc.”

All Might smiled. “Yes, young prince.” He eyed Katsuki as if searching for answers. “What brings you here?”

“Yeah, that, the queen is trying to kill me or something.” The younger man dismissed carelessly.

“The queen is trying to kill you?!” Several of the small men exclaimed.

“Yes, so let me hide here, I’ll cook and clean, or something.” Katsuki forced himself to say.

“Like we would let a stranger stay here in our h-” Endeavour started to say.

“Of course you can stay, my boy!” All Might said. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” Kirishima, Kaminari, and Present Mic said, Koda blushed, and Aizawa grunted his approval from where he slept.

Endeavour growled.

The next day, after making the seven nuisances breakfast and them lining up at the door to go to the mine, Kirishima took of his stupid hat and watched Katsuki expectantly.

“What do you want.” The blonde said, but he had started to piece what hair for brains was silently asking, the redhead wanted a kiss on his forehead, Bakugou fumed, missing the cracking sound of his quirk. The thing was Snow White obviously did so in the movie, and if he wanted to be truthful with what he promised Deku, he had to kiss the foreheads of these dumbasses and thank god they wouldn’t remember, or at least he hoped so.

He reluctantly kissed Kirishima’s forehead, cringing when the dwarf continued in his way. It didn’t take long for the rest of the short men to follow suit.

Kaminari laughed and thanked him with a teasing smile. Katsuki struggled not to punch with his bare hands. Koda, bless him, just blushed and continued on his way, Aizawa grunted, Present Mic whooped in happiness, and All Might thanked him.

Lastly, there was Endeavour, who Katsuki categorically and morally opposed kissing, as much as he hated the half-and-half bastard his old man was trash and he wasn’t about to ignore that. But he had made a promise to stupid Deku who was probably living it large somewhere as a prince.

Katsuki swallowed his pride if only because he was a man of his word.

He slowly bent to press his lips on Endeavour's dwarfed forehead, closing his eyes to avoid extra trauma, and gave him a lightning-quick kiss.

“It’s not like I wanted you to, brat!” What the fuck? Was Endeavour a tsundere?

Bakugou would never be able to look at the number one hero ever again.

While Katsuki baked a pie in the old-fashioned oven he heard some commotion on the outside. Bristling Katsiki let go of the hot pie and peeked through the window, only to see Shigaraki dressed in black rags and carrying a basket of apples.

Holy fuck, Shigaraki was the queen?!

Katsuki couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “You?! Your crusty musty ass is the queen? HAHHAHA” He was nearly crying, Shigaraki looked worse than normal, and that was so hard to do in the blonde’s mind that he had to give the man kudos for surpassing himself.

“W-what? No, I’m no old queen, just an old man offering such beauty an apple.” Shigaraki stuttered, quickly jumping into convincing the teen into taking the blood-red apple in his ugly hands.

Katsuki wiped his tears of laughter. “I’m just, haha, sorry, It’s just been an annoying day.” He explained. “But alright, since you made me laugh so much I’ll take the apple, thank you for the few hours of peace, while that stupid Deku makes it here.” The blonde bit the apple, promptly falling asleep as he heard Shigaraki’s pathetic laugh.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku panted as he followed the forest’s animals toward the dwarf's house, where he knew Katsuki was waiting for him, the queen, whoever they were, was probably already chased off a cliff and Kacchan was placed in a crystal case.

He arrived at a clearing, watching as the dwarfs mourned Katsuki’s apparent death.

Wait. Was that Endeavour?! No. No, no time for that, literally everyone they knew was becoming a supporting character in these stories, it was entirely possible Endeavour was too.

...Was he supposed to be grumpy?

Izuku shook his head away from those thoughts and focused on Katsuki’s relaxed face as he slept and the dwarfs took away the glass casing on top of the snoozing blonde. Deku had always wondered why on earth the dwarfs just took off the case for some random prince to kiss the princess? What if it was just some creep? Though he had heard the age of the actual prince was 31, while Snow White was 14, which, what the hell.

Anyways he was getting sidetracked, maybe due to the nerves of having to kiss Kacchan, and the intense gazes the dwarfs were sending the green-eyes teen. He gulped, approaching the other man’s face, suddenly feeling very hot. It's not like they hadn’t kissed before, just two days ago Kacchan had kissed him, and there was always that one time they were 4 and wanted to know what kissing felt like.

However, both times it had been Katsuki who had initiated, not Izuku, Deku had never been the one to kiss someone, and the fact they were not conscious was really bothering him. It was morally incorrect to kiss someone who was unconscious, even if he somewhat knew Katsuki would be ok with it.

He felt dirty, like a 31-year-old prince kissing a 14-year-old girl, well maybe not that dirty.

But still, he did not feel great about this.

Finally, as his lips were millimeters away from Bakugou’s, Deku avoided the pink plump lips of his classmate and kissed the other’s cheek swiftly and reeled back. Katsuki’s eyes remained closed for dreadful long seconds, until red eyes fluttered open, sleepily batting long blonde eyelashes at Izuku.

“Took you long enough, nerd.” Katsuki complained as Deku offered him a hand and a taller teen rose from the adorned crystal bed.

“Sorry Kacchan.” Izuku said, relieved that the kiss on the cheek was enough to wake the other up. “Let’s go?”

Katsuki blinked. “Oh, yeah, you said we now ride into the sunset.”

“I-I mean, y-yeah, that’s how I remember it ended.” Izuku stuttered.

“Thank god.” Katsuki launches himself at Izuku's horse, waving at the dwarfs and animals as Izuku himself mounts it.

“Are you ready?” Izuku said, feeling like he forgot something.

“Yes.” The blonde rushed, a fake smile plastered on his face as he waved. “Let’s go you stupid piece of crap.”

“Right.” Izuku instructs the horse to start moving toward the horizon where a large range of beautiful reds and oranges paint the sky.

“Thank you for nothing!” Katsuki waves again, this time his smile is more genuine as he does a pg version of his usual cursing at the dwarfs and animals that probably don’t hear him due to the distance. “Hope you trip on your horrendous beards and die!”

The green-haired teen sweat drops as Bakugou finally settles down.

That is until he notices the horizon only seems to get further away. “No! Look, we aren’t moving on!”

Deku has to agree, as he notes his surroundings, while the background isn’t repeating, there seems to be no end to the valley even as seconds turn into several minutes. Well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions, Izuku thought as he meditated the best way to confess why they may be unable to finish the story.

“Darn it!” Katsuki growled in frustration. “I swear I did everything you told me.” He tried to explain. “I even kissed Endeavour’s old geezer head.”

“I know, Kacchan.” Izuku reassured, gulping as he realized he needed to come clean. “It is my fault.” He confessed.

“What?”

“So you know ten minutes ago when I was supposed to kiss you and wake you up from the sleeping curse?”

“Yes…?” Katsuki nodded. “What’s your point?”

“I may or may not have kissed your cheek instead of kissing you in the lips like in the traditional story.” He said sheepishly. “...Sorry...?

Katsuki slowly turns to look at the dumbass he called childhood friend. “What did you just say?”

“...I’m...sorry?” Izuku’s voice got weaker.

“What on earth is your problem?!” Katsuki bellowed, his eyes glowing red. “You SAID that we needed to follow the story to get out, you made me PROMISE I would go along with it just this once.”

The other man cringed. “I know, I know.” He whined. “I’m sorry, it’s just when I had to kiss you, you were unconscious and it just felt wrong since you never explicitly agreed that I could kiss you.”

“It was implied that I wanted to kiss you!” Katsuki yelled and then blushed, Izuku did too. “I mean, it was implied I was ok with it, you bumbling buffoon!” He screeched.

“Buffoon...?” Izuku mumbled as he stared in surprise at red embarrassed eyes.

“Ughhh!” Katsuki said in frustration. “Being this mad without using my quirk is making me lame.” He explained to himself, he took the reins of the still moving horse and yanked it so it stopped. Then he threw his legs over the animal so Bakugou was fully facing Deku. “Let’s just kiss so maybe this can be over, you piece of garbage.”

Katsuki pulled Izuku roughly so their noses were touching. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to kick your ass into the next century after we get back to UA.”

Before Izuku could respond, their lips smashed together, harder and deeper than necessary, all while he was vaguely aware the world started to crumble and fade into white once again.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Too Little Too Late

ft. IwaOi

G/N reader

TW: Neglect, manipulation, toxicity in general, swearing

Read this first

tysm for the request anon! It’s about time Y/n stood up for themselves don’t you think? That’s the thing about relationships like these. It’s so hard to get out of them once you’re in deep- even if you can see every single red flag clear as day.

Also I’ve decided that since these are lengthy- there will be separate parts for Kuroken, SakuAtsu, and OsaSuna in the future.

 This one is something I actually turned into a two shot: part one and part two. So same plot line, just goes more in depth on the “break up” part.

This was it, you were finally going to do it. After two decades of following your soon to be ex boyfriends around, it was time for you to step out of their shadow- into the limelight of independency. Still, you felt like a coward- leaving them while neither were even in the country. It was petty perhaps, but deep down within your heart- the vindictive, evil, and cruel part of you whispered that this was what they deserved. You were nearly finished packing- two suitcases stuffed to the max with your clothing and any small, expensive purchase you bought for yourself. Now all you needed to do was shove anything else that could fit into your duffel bag. 

This wasn’t a new idea. Leaving them that is. In fact, you’d been thinking about it for years already. Honestly, you doubted you’d have even begun noticing just how unbalanced your current dynamic with your two “lovers” was, until a stranger- turned friend had pointed it out. 

His name had been Miya Atsumu- he had gone to Tokyo University just like you and was the starting setter for their volleyball team. He was flirty at first, acting like a stereotypical frat boy. Despite telling him you had not one- but two partners- he hadn’t left you alone at that fateful party. 

“Wait... yer datin’ that newbie setter from Argentina? AND Iwaizumi... the one who’s boutta transfer over to that American university?” Atsumu questioned incredulously, nearly doing a spit take, he leans over your figure and places his red solo cup down on the counter behind you. 

“Yeah... I know it’s not a normal relationship-” You begin, already used to defending you and your lovers. 

“Nah, that’s not what I’m sayin’ darlin.” The blonde replies, his words make him seem as though he’s hitting on you but somehow there’s an undertone of genuine concern. “Neither of em have even spared ya a glance since ya got here! Seems like they’re the ones in love- not the three of ya.”

You had frowned at his words, shaking them off easily. The three of you were in love, besides, no stranger could have deduced that at first glance- if anything he was just trying to meddle in your happy relationship... so why did his words continue to plague you that night, and for many nights after that? 

Looking back on it now, you should have listened to Atsumu sooner. 

You had countless discussions with Hajime and Toru after the night of the party. They had seemed genuinely sorry and made an effort to be more inclusive. However, they slowly fell back into old habits- time and time again- as if they had forgotten the promises they had made. 

There would be no more discussions, no more nights staying up, waiting for them to come back home from their date. 

There would be no more of the three of you- just Hajime and Toru. 

That thought prevented you from picking up the framed photo on your bedside- the one of you three. It had been taken at a children’s festival that the three of you had taken Takeru too. It was probably the last photo where you had been so blinded by your love for them that you completely glossed over the fact that the only people they were looking at were each other. 

“Y/n... what are you doing?” A raspy voice called from the bedroom’s doorway, startling you from your memories. Body shaking, you turned around to face the owner of the voice. “We came home early to surprise you... only to find you packing your bags?” 

The same two people that you didn’t want to see stood before you. Both toted suitcases and smelt like the airport. You couldn’t find it within yourself to look them in the eyes, fearing that if you did you’d lose your strength, turn around, and begin unpacking.

“Y/n... prince(ss), what’s going on? Talk to us.” Toru whispered, speaking to you as if you were a cornered animal. That analogy wasn’t wrong per say but it did nothing to help you calm your nerves. 

You knew it shouldn’t have but for some reason his tone had made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah babe, let’s put the bags down and take a seat... we can talk about this right after me and Toru shower.” Hajime agreed, his poor choice of words stirring anger within your soul- intense and smoldering like Zeus’s lightning bolts.

“No!” You cry, tears of pent up anger, hurt, and every other negative repressed emotion, begins to well up in your eyes. “I’m going to say this one last time- then I’m going to leave. We won’t talk. I’m not going to... to wait until you finish showering. I’m sick and tired of this- this absolute fucking BULLSHIT!” 

They stare at you wide eyed, not quite knowing how to respond. You don’t even give them the chance to think about how to do so- instead you opt to continue your rant. 

“I love you two so damn much. So, so much- to the point that it hurts me.” Your gaze flickered between the two of them. “Loving you... it breaks my heart. I can’t do it anymore Toru, Hajime. I wanted too- God knows I do. But I can’t keep doing this-”

Toru lets his carry on drop to the floor and races over, attempting to embrace you in a hug. Every bone, every fiber, literally every part of you is begging you to stay trapped in his arms. He’s warm and he’s here. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. 

Too little too late.

You shove him off, biting back sobs. Hajime hurries behind him, catching the taller male as he falls. 

“Y/n calm down what’s going on? What did we do?” Olive green eyes flit over to meet yours, they’re just as lovely as they have always been. But you notice that they’re also cold, like jade bracelets and old watered down matcha tea. 

“It’s what you didn’t do Haji.” You say and they can see the heart ache on your face. “I love you but you don’t love me- not as much as I love you at least.” Both of them look like they want to argue but you shake your head- effectively silencing them. The picture on the night stand stares back at you tauntingly- ignorance was indeed bliss it seems. Grasping it lightly you place it on the ground and kicked it gently, letting it slide over to where Toru and Hajime are still seated on the ground. The brunette takes it in his hands and examines it. 

“This was when we took Takeru to the children’s festival!” 

“Yeah... we were so happy then... where did that go wrong Y/n? When did you stop smiling like this?” Hajime whispers. 

“I stopped smiling like that when I realized the truth- about us.” They watch as you take a deep breath, composing yourself. “It took me a long while, but I’ve been coming to terms with it.” A choked gasp escapes your lips, leading you to quickly spill the rest of your well kept insecurities. “This... this thing we have going on- it’s a toxic, endless cycle. There’s no us- it’s just Hajime and Toru plus Y/n.”

Toru’s expression morphs from empathetic to down right murderous. He’s offended that you would dare imply something like that. Deep down, you’re sure he knows you’re actually right, and he’s just acting like that to save his pride. A pang of shame hits you- when had you begun thinking mean thoughts like that?

“How could you say that?” He spits, tone devoid of sweetness, now replaced with lethal venom. “Everything we do is for you. We give you money, this nice home, space, time- our love. And you have the fucking gall to say we’re ostracizing you from our relationship? What the hell are you thinking Y/n?” 

You’ve never seen him this angry- not in all the years you’ve known the setter. It sorta terrifies you. Hajime doesn’t bother to reprimand Toru for his tone like usual, instead he looks like he agrees with him. 

“He’s right Y/n, everything we do is for you. Are you mad because we didn’t take you to a wedding? Guess what- that’s just business. Stop being so damn jealous for no reason. You can’t be selfish in our sort of relationship. Didn’t you know that in the first place?” 

They don’t- won’t see things from your point of view. Honestly, what were you even expecting.

“When have I EVER been selfish? I cook, clean, and practically orbit around the two of you. I’m not mad just because of a FUCKING WEDDING! I’m upset- and hurt because you can’t ever see from my eyes. Don’t think I haven’t seen the differences between the looks you give me verses each other. The date nights you forget to include me in- the stolen kisses in the morning you give each other without even thinking about me. Even when I try to initiate something I’m ‘too clingy’ or you’re ‘too busy.’ FUCK THAT. I deserve better. So I think I deserve to be selfish just this once- because this is something I need to do for me. Not for you.” 

They’re stunned, unable to speak. So they say nothing at all, watching you zip up your duffel bag and single handedly take all your baggage out into the living room by yourself. Neither of them say anything when there’s a knock on the door and they can hear your best friend enter their home and help you take your stuff down to their car. 

There’s nothing they can do. So they go to bed without showering, thinking about the things you said and reflecting. You made it quite clear to them. It’s over- the three of you.

[yeojaa]

( ROSERAIE. )

What you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you two apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.

genre + rating.   my take on a hanahaki!au.  pretty heavy on the angst.  general.

tags / warnings.  mention of minor character death, breaking up, soulmates, angst, unrequited love, sick character (hanahaki), bittersweet, non-idol.

wc.  3.2k

beta reader(s).  my forever queens, @hobi-gif​ @snackhobi​!  you both bring such hope and joy (hahahaha) to my life!!!  and of course, the loveliest angels @joheun-saram​, @pars-ley​, and @ditttiii​ for reading through and giving me excellent feedback!

author note.  this is a part of @goldenclosetnetwork​‘s 23 | jungkook’s birthday project.  it’s my first time writing a hanahaki au so...  i have a lot of headcanons for it but i’m not sure whether it all came across in the story.  😰  eep.  anyway, please enjoy and feel free to leave any feedback.  i would love and appreciate it!  most importantly:  happy birthday, kook!  💖

Your parents were a young match.  Together from the tender age of eleven, they’d shared pieces of themselves readily, trading secrets in tree houses and blanket forts.  Nothing was held back - a childhood crush brought to life by playful ribbing and sugar-coated snacks.  Where your mother went, so did your father;  she was his light as much as he was her shadow.  Two halves of a destined whole, earnest and pure.  Friends first.  

It made perfect sense when they shared their dreams - the same one they’d had since they could remember - and it was identical:  swimming in the ocean with a faceless friend, families on their respective four and three-week long road trips.  They’d recognised each other immediately, felt the click the moment they stepped off the camper van.  Your father had called it cooties;  your mother said butterflies.

It didn’t matter that they’d never seen each other’s faces until that moment.  There was the spark.  Recognition.  The rest was history. 

Jungkook’s parents have been soulmates since the early 2000s.  His father had lost his wife - his first soulmate - exactly one year prior to their meeting.  He didn’t have his recurring dream until a fortnight before he met his wife.  Hadn’t expected it, either.  He’d been talking about his day in his local support group (it never got easier, he’d discovered) and he’d mentioned it in passing, glossing over the details of the vivid new pictures painted against his eyelids.  His second wife - his second chance - had attended after losing her son.  A complete chance.  Serendipitous. 

It wasn’t always simple, though.  The heartbreaking endings came just as often as the happy.  

There were people who lost their soulmates before even meeting them.  They’d never know they’d lost their first one until the next dream came - if it came.  If they were lucky enough.  

There were message boards and dating sites.  Places people stripped themselves bare and spilt their secrets to the world.  Desperate for love, they detailed their dreams and hoped that their other half was somewhere out there, reading those same words.  

Some, though, never found their special someone.  Life came at you fast and from all directions - or it never came at all, caught somewhere across the globe in the form of someone you’d never meet.  Those were the most painful circumstances, as if fate was cheating the system.  Here’s a love you know you have, but that you’ll never experience.  It was terribly cruel. 

(But when was life ever fair?)

There were stories about those that never found their puzzle piece and how it felt, whether it hurt.  Most said it was a quiet ache, something you never really noticed until you thought too closely about it, like a scar that had healed over or a loved one gone a long time.  Painful in an explicable way and only - luckily, miserably - softened by ignorance. 

Others spoke about it like death, missing an integral part of themselves.  It played a large part of their life, shaping and changing them with each passing day.  They couldn’t fully live without their person, even if they’d never met them.  It was simply the principal of the matter. 

You’d never quite existed in either camp.  You’d always wanted to find love but you hadn’t rushed it.  You figured you’d meet your happily ever after at some point.  Maybe at your work - caught between the shelves or returning an overdue book - or maybe out with your dog, walking the same route you took every day.  They’d show up one day.  You were sure of it. 

Love had a way of surrounding you. 

Your best friends - because of course the two of them would fall for each other (it was nauseating) - had found each other young too, on the grounds of the elementary school you all played on.  They’d been bonded since the beginning, secrets exchanged in art class and atop monkey bars.  You’d cheered them on the whole way, giddy in a way you couldn’t describe.  Being around it  felt like standing beneath the sun, scorching heat warming you all the way to the core.  It didn’t matter that you didn’t have it for yourself (yet). 

They’d come.  Eventually.  You felt it in your bones and later, you’d learn, in your shins.

He’d come around the corner fast as a bullet, headphones in and hood pulled over his head.  You’d barely have time to avoid him, poor coordination lending itself to disaster when only one of your feet would make it out of his path of destruction.  

BANG!  

It was something right out of a campy romance novel.  Guy goes jogging, runs headlong into his dearly beloved and nearly gives her a concussion.  He feels bad for her scraped knees and falls in love with her dog.  His morning runs become theirs and six weeks later, over a late night bite of contrasting gelato flavours - green tea for him, bubble gum for her - they fit the pieces together.

Jungkook’s the faceless boy you’d always dreamt of, one hand on the wheel, the other resting easily on your thigh.  He was the one with the slick black AppleWatch and long fingers.  You’d never imagined he’d be covered in ink, immaculate designs running the length of his forearm all the way back and across his shoulders.  In fact, you’d never thought about tattoos at all. 

You get your first and only one with him - intricate red looped around your wrists and over your pinkies.  Your own, very real string of fate, sealed and signed forever in rouge. 

He was your Prince Charming, your best friend, your bonafide soulmate.  You’d done everything together - skydiving, snorkelling, silly photos atop the Eiffel Tower.  He’d adapted to your distaste of onions and took them all, meticulously picking them out of stir fries and sauces until not a single sliver remained.  You’d learnt to tolerate his unbearably fast driving, white-knuckled and silent when he’d tear around corners too fast in a car too low. You fit perfectly, filling all the spaces he could never, keeping him whole even when he was broken.  

Your love was of fairy tales but it was better than that too.  Real.  Concrete.  Solid.

Until it wasn’t.    

The two of you had never had any other choice.

That’s what it feels like, at least.  He’d done his best - tried every little thing he could’ve possibly imagined - and it’d all amounted to nothing.  He’d gone through all the motions, explored every avenue, given everything he had.  It wasn’t working.  This thing he wanted with every fibre of his being, that he’d hoped for his whole life, just wasn’t working.  It wasn’t for him.

“I’m sorry,”  he cries, and he knows you know he means it.  You can read it between every line of his expression, tucked among the neatly scrawled india ink in faded red, underlining the passages you’d written together.  He is sorry.  He’d never meant to do this to you, nor you to him.  He’d wanted to give you it all - make all your hopes and dreams come true.

Sometimes, fate just had other plans.  

Because what the two of you had - so brilliant and beautiful and bright it was almost impossible to look at head-on - was what was tearing you apart.  It was your love that would be your demise.  

And he can’t bear to hurt the one he loves.  

He’d tried so hard.  Really, he had.  You had too, more than he ever deserved. 

There was simply no other option.  You’d always come up short.  You weren’t the one for him - not anymore - no matter how badly you wanted to be.  You weren’t the one meant for him.  You’d fumble for that ledge - held so impossibly high, just barely out of reach - before falling right back to where you began.  The bottom.  He couldn’t stand to see you there, brought to your knees once, twice, a hundred times.  

He’d lose count if not for the petals.

Little ones, at first.  Tiny pieces of silk you’d found on your pillowcase, outside the shower, in your water glass.  They’d been unassuming - reminders you could easily ignore.  

Then they’d grown, velvet softness that made it hard to breathe, that had him rubbing soothing circles over your skin, earnest vows winding like vines around your airways.  Neither of you had had any idea why it was happening.  You were soulmates - bound to each other and destined since the beginning.  Your love wasn’t unrequited. 

“We’ll figure it out,”  he’d said.  Sworn.  “We’ll get through this.”

Your heart had broken with each promise;  his had too, differently, but in perfect tandem.  

(Spring still came, steadily, with a rose garden blooming within your insides and freesias in your nose.) 

It wasn’t his fault.  You would never blame him, even when it was his fist that broke yours, splintered it into a million pieces that cut worse than the thorns in your lungs.  You knew this was just as hard for him.  He’d had to watch you wither away, even as a patchwork of flowers blossomed in the spaces he’d thought he could keep safe.  He hated it - could barely take it.  It kept him up all night, tears in his eyes.  Even when he slept - managed it, every few days - it’d prompt him awake in a cold sweat.

If he’d known then what had changed, maybe he could’ve fixed it sooner.  Maybe he could’ve saved you the heartache.  (Weeks later and during a coffee break with the new girl at his startup was not how he’d expected to find his answer.)

“I love you,”  you tell him, an ocean of sadness.  He loves you too, more than anything, more than there are stars in the sky.  He loves you with every part of himself - and yet he knows now that’s what’s causing this.  He loves you, but not in the right way.  Every touch he offers is wrong, leaving you bruised, broken, barely breathing.  It’s a disease - a venereal infection that seeps beneath skin and bone, settling within the marrow.  It changes you from the inside out, realigns your DNA until you’re mutated and miserable. 

The realisation is devastating:  his love causes more harm than it heals. 

So he stands there now, caught in the distance between you, eyes melancholy blue.  His composure is frayed, crippled beneath the weight of your circumstance.  He tries to memorise your face in these last moments - the colour of your hair, the shape of your stare.  How you sound in the morning - voice raspy with sleep, dust caught in your eyes.  The way you hold him close and the feeling of your eyelashes against his neck in the early hours.  

Jeon Jungkook doesn’t want this to end.  He doesn’t want to lose you, give you - this - up but he has to.  He has to, for you.  To give you a chance.  

Even after having so little - only five short years - you were about to lose the rest of your lives.  

You pack your bags - he helps, folding your favourite sweater (one of his, in truth) alongside your toiletries and undergarments - and you prepare to do the thing that you should never have to do.  You sign papers, dot I’s and cross T’s, and put all your treasured memories away into cardboard boxes to never be touched again.  You label them neatly and dress tape over edges;  Band-Aids meant to hold together the deepest wounds.

You’re going under by anaesthetic and he’ll be here, where he has everything he wishes he could give you.  A love he doesn’t deserve, within arms he wishes were yours. 

He wonders whether he’ll still feel the pull once it’s done or whether his heart will stay there, tucked somewhere beneath the dug up roots.  Whether it’ll be safe, undiscovered like a long lost treasure.  

It’s best this way.  He tells himself that - loops it on repeat until it’s the only thing he can think.  It has to be better.  For you, for you, for you. 

He knows he’ll carry you with him forever.  Like the air in his lungs, you’ll keep him going.  

He’s snapped back to the present, to the small hallway of the home you’d built together.  The traces of you are gone - all the photos hidden away, your row of shoes missing from beside his.  It’s strangely bare.  He knows it won’t last long.  She’ll be here next week.

Your hand pushes against his cheek, thumb caressing along the seam of his bottom lip, right where the freckle sits.  He’s a thief - a criminal, a sinner - when he dips his head, presses back into the warmth of your palm.  This isn’t for him to take but he does anyway, eagerly and with deep regret. 

“I love you.”  Your voice cuts through all the white noise and agony - a beacon in the night, guiding him home.  

He smiles, half-hearted and weak and not even his.  Every part of him screams at him to beg you not to do it, to accept him for the man he is - lost and weak and sorry.  He almost drops to his knees - fights tooth and nail against his aching limbs not to - and brings a hand to yours.  The red threads looped around your wrists fit perfectly together, the ends of inked rope caught around your pinkies matching when his fingers slot between yours. 

Don’t do this, he pleads, without words or hope. 

“I’ll love you forever,”  you tell him - promise like he had you.  “You’ll always be the brightest star in my sky, Jeon Jungkook.”

He almost cracks - seams near splitting, adhesive tearing from skin - when you return his smile and he can see how hard it is.  You’re already broken, all the pieces of your puzzle in terrible disarray. 

You’re trying, for him. 

“I’m so sorry,” he answers, because that is kinder than an I love you that doesn’t mean what you need it to.  Because you deserve better - you deserve it in the same way you mean it. 

So he’ll let you leave and he’ll pray this isn’t the worst decision of his whole life.  

“I’ll see you.”  

He hopes so.  He can’t bear the idea of losing you again.  He doesn’t think even she could fix him if he had to. 

“Be safe,”  he whispers, in a voice that stutters your stare and shatters what little resolve you have left.  He sees it in your eyes - all the crystallised parts of your composure turned to ash.  He wishes he could be sorry.  He’s not.  

“I love you,”  you repeat with an air of finality. 

Jungkook does the same:  “I’m sorry.” 

You leave, ushered into the back of your mother’s tiny sedan.  She helps you with your bags and your seatbelt, rubbing your shoulder carefully when baby’s breath slips past your lips and falls all over your lap.  She meets his stare when she climbs into the driver’s seat.  He tries to read her expression.  Understanding?  Resentment?  Gratitude?  

The car pulls away with a groan, disappearing down the tree-lined street.  Jungkook stands in the doorway for far longer than he should.

He’s moved on - settled down with the girl of his dreams.  Literally.  

She’s nothing like you, sarcastic and stubborn with a staunch refusal to ever come second best.  She laughs maybe a bit too loud, giving him shit when he orders in another car part.  She’d eat an onion raw, if she could, and takes showers hot enough to slough the skin from her bones.  They have a home together and in a year’s time, he thinks he’ll propose.  He’s not in any rush, though, because he knows she’s his forever.  

(Knows it, even though you’d once been that same shining star to him.  He has to believe it won’t happen again.  Life can’t screw someone twice, right?  Lightning never strikes the same spot or something like that?)

Still, he tries to forget the feeling of you.  

It isn’t as hard as he’d thought it would be.  The love exists as it always has, just differently, in the palm of his hand and not the space behind his ribs.  You’re his best friend and he is disgustingly, unbelievably lucky.  

He’d gotten his second chance.  Even if he’d once resented it, he had everything now.  

You still go for your morning runs and he still changes your oil because you’d never learnt how to.  His parents invite you for Sunday dinners;  you’re gracious enough to decline them.  You don’t see it as pity - you just don’t want to intrude.  (It isn’t your place any longer.)  You accept all the changes readily, without regret.  You promise you’ll go by one day.  

Your parents never speak to him.  He doesn’t blame them.  At the supermarket, on the street, in passing when he’s coming and they’re leaving - it’s radio silent.  

It’s been six months and you haven’t dreamt at all.  They’d hoped - prayed - that you’d find someone new after him, someone to treat you right.  You don’t mind, you tell them.  I’ll meet my special eventually, you say (again, again).

He wonders whether you resent them for it - their concern, perhaps a bit overbearing and offered with a heavy hand.  If you do, you say nothing, playing along each time they suggest you meet another friend’s son, another junior at your father’s accounting firm.  You don’t understand the sad way they watch you. 

“I’m sorry,”  he mumbles one night, seated at the neighbourhood cafe you’d frequented on your first date.  Your idea, because you loved coffee and, in your old words, this was your place.  The start of it all, where he’d knocked you hard onto pavement and stolen your heart in the process.

You don’t remember it now.  Not in the same way. 

This is somewhere you come for their great matcha lattes, where you waste a few too many evenings when you just want to get out of the house.  It isn’t the place he’d told you he loved you or where you’d resolved your first fight.  

(It’d been stupid.�� He’d forgotten to pick up groceries for your first dinner with your parents.  You’d been so stressed you’d snapped at him, carrying tension into the rest of the evening.  He’d apologised with an almond croissant and your favourite green drink.)  

It’s like a wall has gone up, splitting your heart in two.  The part of you that’d once been Jungkook’s remains out of reach, caught behind a gate neither of you have the key to.  

“For what?”  You quip, a milk moustache presenting itself over the rim of your mug.   

Jungkook shrugs.  He can’t make you understand.  “Y’know,”  he mumbles into his red bean mochi bun.  It sticks to his teeth and coats them in soft white flour.  “Just— everything.”  It’s not enough, either as an explanation or an apology.  It falls terribly short, barely worthy of a participation trophy.  

“It’s fine.”  You say it every time, clockwork in response to the same apology he always gives - out of the blue and vague.

“No, but I’m—”

You level him with a glare.  It might’ve hurt once but now it settles like a scolding from a sibling.  He reminds himself this is how it should be, you there and him here - two parallel lines.  

The guilt never goes away. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​​​ @snackhobi​​

[harryspet]

Could you possibly write some dark Bucky Barnes ? Maybe the reader is super innocent and he takes advantage of it?

party princess | bucky barnes 

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x innocent reader, natasha x reader (sort of), nanny reader, manipulation, affair, drunk consent (dubcon?), little editing

A/N: I’m gonna be honest and say that I basically DNF’d this one-shot after working on it for awhile. I liked the idea at first but then towards the middle my interests in it got a little iffy. anyways, I hope you can still enjoy it for what it is. I’ll def try to write more stories like this in the future! 

In which married Bucky takes advantage of the birthday party princess. 

word count: 2.5k

“Okay, let’s see, who wants to have their wish granted?”

The crowd of first graders erupted but you quickly held up your hands to shush them, “Before I can use my magic on any of my little friends, I have to make sure you’re all good little girls and boys. How many of you are kind to your friends and listen to your Mommies and Daddies?”

Hands raised and you smiled, “That’s very good, my friends. If you want to be a princess like me or a prince, then are certain things you have to do. Princess’s are polite, kind, and most important of all …” A hush fell over the crowd as they listened patiently before you suddenly exploded with giddiness, “They like to sing and dance! Will you sing a song with me, friends?”

Bucky watched from behind the glass door as you twirled around on the terrace. He sipped at his bottle of beer, noting how your eyes lit up as the group of children gather around you. They wanted to touch your ball gown and have you tap them with your fairy wand so you could grant their wishes. You seemed to be in your element and you hadn’t fallen out of character once as you pranced around in your fairy princess costume. It was a character from the latest Disney junior show that his daughter had recently fallen in love with and Natasha had the idea of hiring a party princess for her fifth birthday party. 

Both Natasha and Bucky were surprised when you volunteered to do it. You loved makeup and the idea of making their daughter’s birthday spectacular seemed like fun. Besides, you had only been nannying with the Barnes family for a couple of weeks and you wanted to make even more of a good impression. 

“I’m starting to think she actually has magic,” Natasha commented, and Bucky turned to see her placing candles on their daughter’s birthday cake, “I can barely handle our baby girl alone and yet she’s tamed fifteen of them.”

“She’s really something, isn’t she?” Bucky smirked and Natasha grinned, lighting the candles. 

“Keep it in your pants for now,” Natasha stated slyly, “C’mon Daddy, let’s sing happy birthday.”

As he opened the sliding door for Natasha, she rolled out the cake and the entire terrace erupted with singing. Bucky joined along, of course, watching as his daughter grabbed your hand and dragged you over to the cake. You sang happily, encouraging her to blow out the candles and make a wish when the song had ended. 

Natasha took a million pictures of you and, out of the corner of your eyes, you could feel Mr. Barnes’ gaze on you. You hoped that meant you were doing a good job. Keeping a smile on your face for that long was quite a lot of work. You watched as the birthday girl ran up to her father and he swung her in his arms.

You had already noticed what a beautiful family they were and how incredibly lucky they were to live in such a nice part of town. You hoped to have something like this one day and to find someone as attentive as Mr. Barnes. You were holding a little girl in your lap as she was asking if you personally knew Mulan before you heard a gagging noise.

Before you knew it, icing colored vomit was dripping down the bottom of your dress. 

Her mother came quickly, swooping the little girl from your arms, “I’m so so so sorry! She must’ve had too much cake,” You only smiled, trying to hide any disgust that you felt. 

“It’s okay,” You stood, making sure the little girl wasn’t embarrassed, “Even princess’s get tummy aches. Besides, I have lots of dresses in my castle.”

You felt a hand on the small of your back and turned to see Mr. Barnes, “The princess will be back in just a moment,” He spoke to the crowd of first graders as if to say that he’d personally help out with your accident. 

“I’m just going to return to my castle for a moment, friends” You assured the little ones with a smile, as Bucky helped you with the long train of your dress. Natasha had spent a fortune on the dress just to make sure it was realistic. He helped you inside, and as the sliding glass door closed, you let out a breath of air. 

Your smile fell a little though you didn’t want to appear completely tired in front of Mr. Barnes. One hand carrying your train and the metal one on your back, he led you towards the master bedroom. At first, you blushed but then you realized that was probably where the most room was. 

“You looked like you were having fun out there,” Bucky commented. 

“It’s nice making them smile,” You spoke earnestly and part of Bucky told him to beware. You were too pure for him to dip his fingers into yet he still wanted to taste you. 

“Do you want to take off your dress?” Bucky smiled evilly as your eyes widened and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. 

It took a minute for you to realize what he was actually asking, “W-Well, the show must go on, right? I think I can just try to wipe it with a wet washcloth and hope for the best. I don’t want to let this ruin the party.”

Bucky nodded though he added, “My daughter loves you so I doubt you could ever ruin anything.” That made you genuinely smile because you knew then that the impression you were trying so hard to make was definitely good. Natasha had even said you deserved a raise before you’d gotten thrown upon. 

Bucky led you into the bathroom before he retrieved a washcloth and ran in under the sinkwater for you. You couldn’t help but admire the luxury of it all, the tall ceilings and the chandelier that hung. You could fit the size of your entire apartment in their bathroom. 

You sat down on the tub and began to scrub at your dress, “I really appreciate you guys giving me a chance. I know I didn’t have as many qualifications as the other girls,” Bucky knew you’d be grateful for that. Your interview with them was good and Natasha liked your personality but Bucky wanted you because of your beauty and youth. 

“You’re a hard worker, Y/N,” You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue like you could hear the satisfaction in each syllable. “Natasha and I were thinking … I’m not sure she’d want me to mention it yet-”

“What were you thinking?” You looked up with curious eyes, “I mean, of course, you don’t have to tell me, sorry.”

Be patient with her, Natasha had told him. But looking down at how the heart shape neckline of your dress exposed your breasts, patience was the last thing on his mind. 

“We wanted you to stay with us, join our staff full time. Nat wants to start working more and it’s hard for both of us to keep up with things around the house.”

“Really?” You perked up, your eyes wide with excitement, “I’d love that. I’d love that so much, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky admired the light in your eyes and knew the power he held over your life. You wanted this job desperately since it was probably the best you were going to do. You’d probably do a lot to keep it as well. 

“I’m sure Nat will be glad to hear it …. and you can call me Bucky, Y/N. Might as well drop the formalities if we’re going to be getting closer.”

Closer in proximity is what you thought he meant, “Sounds good, Bucky.”

+

It had been a few weeks since you’d moved into their luxurious home. It had been a complete dream especially with the huge pay raise that it had earned you. 

“Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?” You looked up abruptly from where you were wiping down the kitchen counter. Natasha was sitting down at the island, typing away at her laptop, while she looked you over. You still had paint on your hands and on your cheek from the painting session you had with her daughter. Now the little girl was down for her night and Natasha thought it was the perfect time to get some information, “I mean, you just never mention anyone.”

“I-I don’t,” Your cheeks heated from embarrassment, “Dating isn’t really … my thing.”

“Why’s that? You’re a lovely girl, Y/N.”

Why was she saying all this? Why the sudden curiosity? Was she worried you’d bring someone around her daughter?

“I-It’s just hard. With kids, I’m confident but, with adults, not so much.”

“Bucky used to be that way,” You weren’t expecting to hear about him, “When I met him, he was very closed off. He thought dating was still like it is in the ’40s. Sure, it’s nice to settle down but everyone these days is so … open. You know what I mean?”

You tilted your head to the side, “But you and Bucky settled down?”

“Yes, we love each other and I wanted kids so it made sense. But we still like to keep things interesting. We want to make sure each of us happy.”

“How … How do you do that?”

Natasha bit down on her lip as she thought for a moment, “Let’s have a glass of wine,” She spoke, getting up from her seat.

“Oh, I don’t drink,” You rushed out nervously, “I mean, I’ve never done it before.”

She was still moving towards the wine cabinet, “There’s a first time for everything, right? C’mon have a drink with your boss.” Your boss, right. She was speaking so casually that you had almost forgotten the line between you. 

“Are you sure? What about-”

“Bucky won’t be home until late and the little one is fast asleep. We can have some girl talk, it’ll be fun. One glass won’t do any harm,” Natasha sat the two glasses on the counter before she started to pour you some red wine. 

You’d probably be good after one glass but the universe didn’t work in your favor that night. There was a second after the first glass and now you were a giggling mess. 

Natasha managed to reach into the deepest parts of your past and had you laughing at the same time. You were exactly as she had previously predicted. You had a sheltered life, you grew up disadvantaged but had religious parents. They shamed you into not doing a lot of things but Natasha manages to drill into you that “you shouldn’t be ashamed of anything you do”.

When Bucky strolled in later that night, he found you and Nat sprawled on the couch in the living room. Whatever plan Nat had was working on, it was clearly successful, “Bucky, honey, come sit with us!”

You set your glass down, realizing how comfortable you had gotten, “Don’t be shy now, Y/N,” Nat said to you as Bucky took a seat beside her, “Y/N was telling me about her love life.”

You stared at Nat in disbelief. You understood talking about this stuff with her because she was a girl but with Bucky? “It’s exciting, I hope. There are lots of people in New York.”

“A-Actually, I-”

Natasha placed a hand on Bucky’s leg, taking another sip of wine before saying, “She’s a virgin.”

Bucky looked you over with a smirk, “And I thought the fairy princess stuff was an act ... “

You weren’t sure if you should be offended so you only said, “It’s not like that. I still know things ... “

Natasha handed her glass of wine to Bucky before standing and walking to where you were sitting on the couch. She held her hands out to you and you took them hesitantly. She pulled you up so you were standing impossibly close to her, “How much do you know, honey?”

“I … “

“Don’t you want to learn some things? So you can please the man in your life?”

“You won’t be much use to your future boyfriend if you don’t know how to please him,” Bucky interjected, leaning forward. 

You hadn’t even thought of it that way …Maybe it was the wine or something because you didn’t object to their words. “I don’t think I can ... “

Natasha still held your hands as she guided you over to where Bucky was sitting, “Of course you can,” Before you knew it, she was pushing you into his lap. You felt his hands tightening on your waist and you began to panic. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes-”

“It’s okay,” Natasha grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at her as his cold hand roamed over your thigh, “We’re gonna help each other out. You can’t go the rest of your life without knowing how to please a man. How I please Bucky is with girls like you, understand?”

It was so far from anything you had ever experienced that you weren’t sure if you did understand. That didn’t stop Bucky from pressing his front to you, grabbing at your breast and rubbing circles against your nipples through your top, “Let me teach you, Y/N, I promise I won’t bite” He whispered into your ear and it must’ve been the wine that makes you whisper back, “O-Okay.”

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about Bucky in that way but the thoughts had never gone far because of Natasha. 

Natasha stepped away from a small grin on her face. After Bucky got his hands on one of the innocent dolls like you, it seemed to turn him into a complete animal in bed, and Natasha loved dealing with the consequences, “Bucky’s going to be very gentle with you, honey. Just give a shout if you need anything.”

Bucky watched as his wife stepped away, knowing he liked to watch her go. He turned his head back to you, dipping his face into your neck, starting to kiss the sensitive area there. It sent fire through you, not only to your cheeks but all over your body, “What do you know about kissing, Y/N?” Again, he could tell you were only pretending as you stuttered over your response, “Then I’m your first?”

You nodded. Nat had really hit the jackpot. He was going to thank her really well later. 

Bucky’s hand stroked your bottom lips for a moment, “Just relax,” You did your best but you couldn’t help but tense as he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours. You thought it would be a short moment but his hands roamed over your bare legs as the tip of his tongue began to pry open your mouth. 

You let him and soon you were trying to copy his movements by moving your mouth against his. When he finally did pull away, you thought you might have totally embarrassed yourself, “Was that bad?”

Bucky immediately shook his head, “You’re a natural, baby.”

+

i really wanted to write more but i kinda just lost inspo : / and I didn’t just want to not post it. 

[melodyalanaroster]

Miracle Romance

"Oh my god." Alana gasped with tears in her eyes. She stood in front of a large mirror and stared at herself. "I finally look like Serenity." She smiled as she left the dressing room and showed herself to Nathaniel. "You look amazing." Nathaniel smiled. Alana began to cry. “For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be like her... And now, even for a few moments... I can be her.” Tears made their way down her face as she smiled. "I guess I have to break your one rule." Nathaniel smiled. "You are not dying your hair black." Alana remarked. "I could wear a wig." Nathaniel replied. “But Nath... We talked about this...” Alana began. "I am not letting anyone else be your Endymion." Nathaniel interjected.

★

Throughout Alana's life, she had made it very clear that Sailor Moon had been a staple to her. It was a staple in the Roster family. By the time Alana reached the point of living in the Black Tower, at least four generations of the family enjoyed it. Including both primary sets of sisters, Margaret and little Ravenna.

She would play pretend with Viktor, Severina and Sam when they were children. She would always be Sailor Moon and Princess Serenity, Viktor was Tuxedo Mask and Prince Endymion, Severina was Sailor Venus and Sam was always Sailor Jupiter. The tree house in Alana's backyard was often the Moon Kingdom and they would frequently save the world. The adventures would always end with the power of love winning and the kids going into the house for a snack.

As the kids reached adolescence, they were forced to stop playing. But, their love of the anime was still prevalent. Alana always kept up with merchandise news and rumors about the release of a second anime. Lynne had made sure that Alana and Sam had their own copies of the manga, original anime and movies. Viktor happily talked about being Endymion to Alana’s Serenity until they were forced to break up. They wanted to continue the fantasy, but circumstance parted them. Severina was always happy to talk to everyone, and toss out ideas for a proper cosplay group, but Sam dampened the idea with the reminder that, as long as Viktor’s and Severina’s fathers remained in control of their lives, they’d never be allowed to do so.

When Lynne moved Alana and Sam to Amouria, things began to change. "She won't shut up about that Nathaniel guy." Viktor growled as he sat down next to Severina. “Viktor, you knew from the day one that you and Mels weren't allowed to be together. She has to find her Endymion." Severina sighed. “But seriously? aunt Lynne moves her and Sam to Amouria and they both immediately find guys they like?” Viktor complained. “You know Mels talks about other guys too. Right now, it could be Castiel, Lysander, Armin or Nathaniel.” Severina tried to make things sound better. “No, it's definitely Nathaniel. She barely mentions the others to me. Mostly about Armin playing games, Castiel being an ass, and Lysander losing his notebook. But she dotes on Nathaniel a lot.” Viktor retorted. Severina sighed. "Viktor... Do you remember what happened to Adonis and Beryl? Their envy got the best of them, they became evil and they died. Please keep a clear head.” She reasoned. "I am not like Adonis and Beryl." Viktor shot. “Viktor, I can't believe I have to be the voice of reason here. Both of our moms made it very clear that aunt Lynne, Mels and Sam have more freedom than we do. They're not blue bloods. They have to find their miracle elsewhere... Although, you and I will probably end up being paired together in an arranged marriage set up by our fathers.” She explained. Viktor thought for a couple of minutes and sighed. "I just thought..." 

The first time Nathaniel ever went into Alana's room, he instantly noticed her Sailor Moon dolls. "They're really hard to find these days... And Sailor Moon means a lot to me..." She said as she explained what the show meant to her. “It's a connection to my past, my closest friends, and my family.” She smiled. Nathaniel looked puzzled for a bit, then smiled. "That's really sweet.". He smiled. He noticed a picture of her, Sam, Severina and Viktor on a shelf and picked it up. “You all look like you’re having so much fun.” He mused. “Yeah... That’s the only time we’ve ever been able to dress up.” Alana sighed, wistfully. The kids were in makeshift Sailor Scout uniforms. Their hair wasn’t perfect, and Viktor’s tux didn’t fit right, but they didn’t care. The photo had been taken a few weeks before Cosima Chevalier’s death, and was one of the last happy memories they had as a group. “Its cute.” Nathaniel chuckled as he looked at her lovingly.

When her mother went into the hospital, Nate arranged it to where Alana and Lynne could sit and watch whatever they wanted in the room. Lynne suggested marathoning Sailor Moon. The days in the hospital weren't as bad when they watched the show and Lynne stayed stable, but there were days where not even fighting evil by moonlight could save the day. But, that didn't keep them from trying. It didn't take them long to get through all five seasons and three movies of the original anime. “I heard they're making a second anime that's supposed to be closer to the manga!” Alana attempted to be cheery. She was sure that she, Severina and Sam had told her about Crystal, but she really couldn’t think of anything positive to say.  “That's lovely! Do you know when it's set to come out?” Lynne asked. “I have no idea. I'm sure Toei will update us when they can!” Alana replied. “I hope its soon.” Lynne smiled. Suddenly, Lynne began coughing and her monitors started to go off. “NURSE! HELP!” Alana cried.

Even when Sam and Alana fought so badly that the Military and RDR felt it was necessary to create a treaty between the two organizations to prevent the sisters from ever being enemies again, it was actually their love of Sailor Moon that truly began to bring them together again. Severina had gotten wind of the fight and forced the girls to go to her house. “OW! RINI! YOU'RE HURTING MY EAR!” Alana whined. “Seriously! What the hell?” Sam whined. “I don't care if I'm hurting you two! This kind of fighting is unacceptable! You two are sisters and you know that this behavior will tear the family apart! I won't allow that!" Severina began to cry as she lead the sisters to her home theater. "What's all this?" Alana asked. "You've forced my hand, so I'm pulling out the big guns!" Severina cried as she grabbed a remote and turned on the screen. Sam and Alana looked at the menu then at each other. "Go figure." Sam grinned. "Of course." Alana grinned. The menu on the screen was the DVD menu to Sailor Moon R: The Promise Of The Rose. By the time the song “The Power Of Love” was playing, tears were streaming down the sisters' faces. "Mels." Sam began to choke. "Sam." Alana's voice wavered. They looked at each other, sadness and regret in their eyes. “Mels... I’m s-so s-sorry f-for what I-I said..” Sam sniffled. “I’m s-sorry t-too S-Sami...” Alana blubbered as she hugged Sam. “I love you.” Sam muttered as she held onto her sister. “I love you too.” Alana murmured. 

When Death’s Domain was getting set up, Alana dedicated a whole room to the series. “You’re seriously going to have an entire room dedicated to Sailor Moon?” Derek had asked. “Yes. Its going to have shelves for merch, posters, and a couch to relax on.” Alana mused. “Melody can have whatever she wants for her apartment. And, if it helps her destress, I most definitely approve.” The  Red Death announced. “Well, the majority of my collection will be in there. There’s going to be something Sailor Moon related in every room.” Alana smiled. “Of course there will be.” Derek facepalmed. “I’m not apologizing. I love Sailor Moon and I wanna showcase it in my home.” Alana laughed. “And I’m sure you’re going to do nothing but post about your collection for a while.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Obviously. Moonies have a good presence online.” Alana mused. “I thought “Moonies” were people who followed the Unification Church?” The Red Death inquired. “Yeah, they are called that, but Sailor Moon fans are also called “Moonies”. I know, in certain circles, I have to be sure to differentiate... But, its what we’re called.” Alana explained as she shrugged her shoulders. The room ended up becoming a paradise for fans of the series. Shelves filled with various collectibles, a couch decorated with two throw pillows and a blanket, a coffee table with two sets of coasters, a large rug, framed posters, plushies, moon and star lights along the walls and showering down the window and a tv mounted on one wall. In contrast to the vast majority of Death’s Domain, the room was an explosion of bright colors.

★

Nathaniel stepped into the restroom for a few minutes. Alana watched the door in anticipation. When he came out, he was running his hands along the circumference of the black wig, making sure it was in its proper place. The thought of how similar he looked to Viktor shot through her mind. She did her best to suppress that thought. "You don't even like cosplay..." She muttered as she smiled. "You do so much for me, I don't mind doing this for you." He grinned. "Nathaniel! I love you!” She cried as she wrapped her arms around him. “I knew I was going to see Princess Serenity, I didn't know Prince Endymion would be with her!” someone called from behind them. They turned around and saw Sam leaning in the doorway. “Sam! I look just like her!” Alana cried. "I wonder if I can get Ken to be Nephrite." Sam commented. “I'm sure he would be if you asked him. You two would be the perfect Jupiter and Nephrite!” Alana beamed. “I didn't know this was turning into a full on cosplay group!” Ken laughed as he walked up behind Sam. "Why not?" Sam asked. "I'm not sure Viktor would appreciate being Kunzite." Alana remarked. “He'd have to get used to it. Since Nathaniel is Endymion, that demotes Viktor to Kunzite.” Sam stated. "Right because when you guys were kids, Viktor was always Endymion." Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Viktor has had years to accept his position in my sister's life. If he doesn't accept it, it will not end well for him.” Sam replied. "Do you think he will?" Nathaniel asked. "If he truly cares about her, he will." Sam nodded. “Viktor has known for years that our time ended long ago. Accepting his new position is painful for him, but he is well aware of the fact that it's something that he must do.” Alana explained.

A few minutes later, Renee walked into the room. “You both look magnificent! The girls and I have gotten a backdrop ready, would you two mind taking a few pictures?” She beamed. Alana smiled and turned to Nathaniel, a very hopeful look on her face. "Would you be okay with that?" She asked. Nathaniel nodded. "Sure." He grinned. They followed Renee into a room. "Oh my god! You two look utterly amazing!”, “You look beautiful Mels! Nathaniel, you look so handsome!”, “True Moon and Earth royalty!” the other girls cooed when they saw them. “I think we should do a cosplay group. I'm Jupiter and Rini will be Venus.” Sam commented when she walked in. "I volunteer to be Mercury!" Renee cheered. "I'll be Mars." Lyra smiled. "I'll be Pluto." Veronica beamed. "I don't mind being Saturn." Nora suggested. "I wonder if we could get Lucy and Noelle to be Uranus and Neptune." Sam pondered. "We could also see about getting Ravenna to be Chibi Moon." Alana proposed. “I think that would be fantastic. Who would be the rest of the Shitennou?” Lyra asked. "I could see if Armin could be Jadeite." Alana thought out loud. "Are we really setting up a cosplay group?" Nathaniel asked. Sam looked at Nath, as if he had said something really stupid. "Do you not realize how highly rated Sailor Moon cosplay groups are?" She asked. Nathaniel shook his head. “Sailor Moon cosplay groups are some of the most elite cosplayers in the anime world. Sailor Moon being one of the most iconic anime in history, it is instantly recognizable. The cosplayers take some of the most beautiful pictures, make some of the coolest videos, and even do events. They may not be unionized like Star Wars' 501st Legion, but they come together and coalesce with great ease whenever they recognize each other. Children who recognize them run up to them the same way that they do with superheroes, and typically, they are nice to them. It is a sisterhood of love and justice.” Sam explained. "Not to mention how fun it would be to finally be in one." Alana cooed. “We'd still need Zoisite.” Veronica stated. "I wonder if Derek could be him." Nora pondered. “Uh, guys? Can we please get to the photoshoot?” Renee asked impatiently. 

After posting for photos for what felt like an eternity, Nathaniel and Alana went into the changing room to get out of their cosplays. "You do look really beautiful in that." Nathaniel smiled as he took the black wig off. Alana blushed. "Do you really think so?" She asked nervously. “Of course. You look magnificent.” He blushed as he walked over to her and kissed her. “Thank you for doing this my love. It means the world to me.” Tears came to Alana's eyes as she spoke. “I love you my Melody.” Nathaniel cooed as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you so much Nathaniel!” She mused as she threw her arms around him.

★

A few weeks later, in the early hours of the morning, several cars arrived at an old castle in the country. “This place looks amazing! Perfect for our photo shoot!” Alana cheered as she got out of the car. “Welcome to the Astarian Royal Palace Lady Melody!” A woman with long brown hair, sunglasses and wearing a knee length blue dress beamed as she walked up to them. “Mrs. Reynard, I presume?” Alana asked as she shook the woman's hand. “Yes ma'am. We spoke over the phone.” the woman smiled. “You are fully aware as to why we need the palace today. Am I correct?” Alana inquired. “Yes. For your little photoshoot. Cosplay, I believe.” Mrs. Reynard replied. “Yes. Sailor Moon. Its important the palace be the backdrop to this shoot.” Alana stated. “The photographer will be here in a few minutes to set up. They'll need time.” Mrs. Reynard explained. “That's fine. We need time to prepare.” Alana smiled.

After a couple of hours, the members of the group began to step out of their respective preparation rooms and into a lounge. Lynne Roster as Queen Serenity, Sam as Sailor Jupiter, Severina as Sailor Venus, Renee as Sailor Mercury, Lyra as Sailor Mars, Noelle as Sailor Uranus, Lucy as Sailor Neptune, Nora as Sailor Saturn, Veronica as Sailor Pluto, Ravenna as Small Lady Serenity, Viktor as Kunzite, Ken as Nephrite, Armin as Jadeite, Derek as Zoisite, Nathaniel as Prince Endymion and Alana as Princess Serenity. When the entire group was gathered in the lounge, tears filled Alana's eyes. “It's so beautiful!” she happily cried out. “Awe! Mels!” Severina cheered as she hugged Alana. “This was a fantastic idea!” Lynne beamed. "How long do we all need to wear this?" Armin asked, slightly uncomfortable. “Just a few hours. We're gonna get a TON of shots! ” someone replied as they walked up. It was a young woman with short platinum blonde hair, bright green eyes, and pale skin. She wore black pants, a white button up top and a deep blue beret. "You all look so regal!" She cheered. “Alright everyone, let me introduce you to you Catarina. She's a friend of mine from boarding school. She's the photographer I told you guys about!” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed. ” Severina introduced. “Hello everyone! It is an absolute pleasure to meet you all!” Catherine bowed.

The photoshoot took several hours, and took place at various locations within the castle grounds. Lynne insisted on at least one family shot with Sam and Alana, and one with Sam, Alana, Severina, Ravenna, Ken, Nathaniel, and Viktor. “This is odd. I don't quite know the anime, but those characters aren't actually family, aren't they?” Catarina asked, curiously. “Not exactly... I mean, Queen Serenity, Princess Serenity, and Small Lady Serenity are three generations of lunar royalty, and Prince Endymion is Princess Serenity's husband and Sailor Chibi Moon's father... But, this shot isn't about the show's family. It's about their family.” Lyra explained. “Oh. That's sweet!” Catarina smiled. Alana insisted each “couple” got their own picture. Viktor wasn't too happy that his couldn't be with Alana, but he didn't mind posing with Severina. Kentin was very happy to have a romantic pose with Sam. "Nephrite and Jupiter look so fantastic!" Renee cheered. “Are you kidding? I've been wanting to do this set for a long time!” Sam beamed. “My favorite part of all of this. I hate this wig, but being your knight is worth it.” Ken mused as he looked at Sam lovingly. "This is awkward." Derek rolled his eyes when he and Renee had their turn. "Oh grow up!" Renee snapped. "Derek... You know what happens when Renee gets mad!" Alana laughed. “Yeah... She gets pretty scary.” Derek sighed. Everyone laughed as Renee forced Derek into a somewhat romantic pose. "But this is so awkward!" Derek whined. "Just do it!" Renee demanded. When their part of the shoot ended, Derek sat down and shot back a bottle of water. “That was weird. "Lyra, Armin, you're up!" Alana cheered. “Now this will be interesting! ” Ken chuckled. “And in Dragon Ball references Armin! Toei may own both franchises, but now is not the time to try to mix the two!” Sam ordered. “Awe come on! That takes part of the fun out of it!” Armin whined. “Armin, if we were doing a smaller photoshoot, I wouldn't mind a few “fun” shots. So please be more serious.” Alana urgent. "Fine." Armin sighed as he and Lyra took their places in front of the camera. 

“God that was exhausting! Who'd have thought that Cosplay would be THAT much work?” Nathaniel whined he crashed onto the living room couch at Death's Domain. "If you had cosplayed as the Winter Soldier when Armin and I cosplayed as Captain America and Black Widow at that Marvel Exhibition in High School, you would have known, first hand, A LOT sooner!" Alana shot as she crashed down next to him. "You still won't let me live that down?" He asked. "Nope." She chuckled. "Why not?" He asked. “Because Armin and I worked our asses off to do our characters justice and we were hoping you would join in on the fun. Especially considering how Natasha and Bucky get together in the comics several times, so it would have been a cute “couple's cosplay” for you and me. Not to mention how cosplay is more than just “wearing a costume”. When someone properly cosplays, they also wish to play the character, even for just a day. They temporarily escape reality and enter the one the character they're cosplaying as resides in. Weeks, months, and even years are spent building props and even hand making the items and outfits. There is a lot of blood, sweat and tears that go into it!” She explained. "I know you and Armin love it, but I don't think I could do it as often as you want to." Nathaniel sighed. “I get that. Its not for everybody. But, I'm thankful you did it for me.” Alana Mused. “I love you Alana. You always do so much for me... And it has been a long time since I've been the "prince" to your "princess." He grinned. "And I'm sure rubbing it Viktor's face added to your enjoyment.” She chuckled. "That did make it a bit more fun." He smirked. "I really wish you wouldn't antagonize him." She sighed. over you and find someone else. It's the same with Castiel. You're not going to be with him, so he needs to quit pining." He shot. "Yes, but with Castiel, you two have reached a mutual agreement, and he has angered me in such a way that I spat that truth with him." She chimed in. "Which makes the situation with Viktor worse. had your family and Severina telling him for years... Yet he insists." He huffed as he rolled his eyes. "Despite that, he is still one of my best and oldest friends. We were raised together and are still like family. Can you at least try to play nice with him?" She requested. Nathaniel looked at her annoyed. "Please! Pretty please! My sweet Endymion…” Alana begged as she playfully batted her eyes. He thought for a minute and exhaled. “Fine. ” He sighed. "Thank you." She mused. “But if he oversteps the boundaries that you and I put in place, I won't be so kind.” He stated. She cuddled up next to him and kissed his cheek. "I love you Nathaniel." She cooed. He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "I love you too Alana."

★

Several weeks later, after the images from the photoshoot had been posted and gone viral, an idea came to Severina's mind. She turned to Alana and Sam and smiled. "What?" Sam asked. “What if we did a cosplay concert?!” Severina cheered. “Nope. I'm not singing.” Alana stated. “PLEASE! We could choose a song from Sailor Moon and singing it at a convention!” Severina urged. “Really? What song would we even do?” Sam asked. “What about “Moon Effect”? It's sung by all of the scouts!” Severina cheered. “Please no. I don't sing.” Alana begged. "But, you wouldn't be alone... And we can't do it without our Sailor Moon!" Sam sneered. “Honey... You're such a beautiful singer! Please!!!!” Severina pleaded. “No…” Alana muttered. “Damn it Mels! Just do it! We all know that you sing when you're alone! On top of that, Nath, Rini, Viktor, Mom and I have all been telling you for years that we all think your singing is beautiful! So, just do it!” Sam snapped. "Don't forget how your teammates think so too." Severina added. Alana thought for a few minutes and huffed. “Fine. I'll do it.” She sighed. “Huzzah! Let's do it at Comic Con!” Sam cheered. "No! That’s too big a venue!" Alana pleaded "That's why it should be done there! You'll get over your stage fright on one of the biggest stages on the Convention Circuit!" Sam explained. "My babies singing a Sailor Moon song in full cosplay? I'd love to help you with it!" Lynne cheered as she walked up to them. "Fantastic! We'll make it a family project!" Severina smiled. Alana looked around at the other women, thought for a few minutes, sighed, and sheepishly grinned. “I guess the Roster Family women are putting on a show!”

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

Words cannot describe how badly I've wanted to write something Sailor Moon related to my story... 

Sailor Moon means a lot to me... It was my mom’s and my “thing”. No matter how much we fought, argued, and went at each other’s throats, we always bonded over the series. The first and last time I watched it in it’s entirety was with her just before her disease started taking its hold. She was the one who got me my first bits of merch, who was always happy to talk to me about it. The last Christmas gift I got her was a blanket with all the scouts on it, and she gave me plushies of Luna and Artemis. When mom died, Sailor Moon came to mean so much more to me. My aunt made me pendants with her ashes in them that look like the Legendary Silver Crystal, I got Pluto’s Garnet Rod tattooed on my back, and I became more adamant about collecting items. Each time I get a new item, I feel closer to her... There are times where I’ll even burst into tears because of Sailor Moon making me think of her....

Yes, I used the character sprite of Nathaniel that I edited from the Dark Chocolate Steward to make him look more like Endymion. I made his hair black, and edited his rings and earrings out.

Little tip... The bit about Adonis won't make sense unless you've read the Codename Sailor V manga.... If you’re not in the mood to read it, Adonis was a lowly Venusian soldier who was in love with his princess (Venus). Venus fell in love with Kunzite instead of him. He found her on Earth and cursed her to never be able to have love again, thus freeing more of her time up to focus on her duty as the leader of Princess Serenity’s Sailor Guardians.

This was originally going to be a Valentine's Day special for 2020. Then 2020 became the dumpster fire that it was and my real life needed more of my attention....

The majority of this does take place during the first year between University Life and Love Life. Before Nath and Alana go on their globe trotting adventure. The flashback section takes place at various points in time.

Credit goes to:

Naoko Takeuchi for Sailor Moon

@candysweetposts for the Princess Serenity Pack (seriously, thank you for going through with my request!)

@chinomiko and Beemoov for My Candy Love

[angelanika]

How Bizarre Pt2

<<<< Part 1                                    Part 3 >>>>  

Chapter warnings: cursing, sugar daddy/baby relationships, sexual themes

A couple hours after you left, Bakugou had finally woken up. He rolled his tired body over and his drowsy eyes peered at the bed-side clock,“tch. Already noon.” 

His red eyes looked sleepily around the luxurious hotel room, noting your absence. A teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy, micro-minature part of him wished that you were still there.

 He pictured how your skin delectably contrasted the white bed sheets below him and how your pretty eyes gazed up into his own full of lust and desire. If only you had stayed a little longer...maybe he could’ve gotten another round in...

He groaned as he threw himself out of the bed and strolled towards the shower. The stress of the previous weeks were nothing some good drinks and hot sex couldn’t fix and as the water streamed down his toned body, he was already feeling more and more refreshed.

You, on the other hand, were as busy as a bee. 

After rushing home to clean yourself up and diving into a crowded train, you arrived at the Hara Estate with 2 minutes to spare.

You had only begun setting down your belongings in the small room near the massive kitchen when the lady of the house yoo-hooed out for you.

“Y/N!! Y/N!!”

You appeared in front of her.

“Oh great! Glad you’re here. I have so much for you to do today, everything has to be perfecttttt,” she sang while slapping a to-do list on the counter, “Hurry up and change dear then get to work. Ok?”

“ok.”

Her smile faded and she stared at you sternly.

“Yes Mrs.Hara,” you corrected.

Her matte pink smile returned as she gave the to-do list two light taps on the marble counter, “Well chop-chop.” 

Your blood boiled.

She turned on her pointed heels and she pranced away leaving you burning holes in the back of her dark, silky hair. 

Ma'am, you're grey roots are showing 🙄

Your job definitely didn’t start off like this. Hell, you weren’t even obligated to lift a finger but...shit happens...

......

You had met the witch's husband, Mr.Hara, at the daycare you used to work at. He wouldn't always be the one to drop his son, Prince, off but he made sure to pick him up in the evenings.

You worked at the tiny front desk, so you were always able to catch a glimpse of the visibly wealthy man when he came in.

Mr.Hara was a tall, slim Japanese. Fit and paired with shiny, black hair, always trimmed to perfection and silver streak in the front just for show. 

He worked somewhere behind the scenes in the Hero Commission...or Association...or something like that…. Let’s just say the man had impressive connections and money to spare!

He was clearly older than you, probably by a decade, but that didn't stop your eyes from roaming and your mind from wandering.

Saying that he hadn’t been eyeing you as well, would be a blatant lie on his part. 

One afternoon when he was signing the book after collecting Prince, he suddenly spoke up, "How much longer do you plan on working here?"

"S'cuse me?" You said, taken aback by the sudden and almost intrusive question.

He slipped his sleek, black and gold pen back into his suit pocket before closing the check-out book and handing it back to you, "Well I know that working here can't pay you that well and I'm sure you don't plan on doing this the rest of your life," he explained.

"My career plans are none of your concern Mr.Hara."

He chuckled at this and you cracked a small smile but you both knew that he was right.

You would think that working at a daycare for the rich and privileged would pay you just as elegantly, but boy were you wrong! It was minimum wage with a few toasted breadcrumbs and as much as you tried to deny it, you would soon need to find a new job.

"I'll tell you what," Mr. Hara began, " You come work for me at my place and I'll pay you ten times as much as you get here."

Your ears perked up. 

"Work for you?"

"Yeah. Trust me. It's not bad at all,” he stated while leaning over the counter and lowering his silky smooth voice, “Just come to my place a few days a week, cook, clean...entertain me."

Instant butterflies!

Your eyes went wide, “Entertain you?! I’m sorry Mr. Hara but I cannot sleep with you!!”      

   ...at least take me out for dinner first😏

He quickly straightened back up and waved his hands dismissively, “No No not like that. It just gets a little lonely in the house. That’s all...”

You stared at him suspiciously.

“I’ll tell you what,” he declared, “Here’s my personal number, we can discuss it more over the phone. You don’t even have to do the housework but just give me a call ok?”

“Oh..ok..thank you Mr. Hara,” you mumbled softly as you accepted the little note..

After fixing his dark sunglasses back in place and calling for Prince, who had been completely enchanted by whatever game he was playing on his tablet, he made his way to the exit, leading Prince through first.

 Then he suddenly stopped midway and turned back to you with a smirk...

“Oh and please, call me Kenji.”

Before you could even reply, he had disappeared through the heavy glass doors and into his BMW.

D-Did you just cop yourself a sugar baby position???

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later, you gave him a call. 

He answered all of your questions effortlessly as if he had done this a thousand times and flattered you with the absurd amount he was willing to pay you for just keeping him company.

“...and what about sex?” you whispered timidly into the phone, ensuring that even the ghosts in your empty apartment couldn’t hear you.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he laughed. “So Y/N? What do you say?”

Exactly one week after that, you’re striding through the mansion gates.

Seeing that your new “job” had extremely flexible working hours, you decided against quitting at the daycare. The extra income was now seemingly unnecessary but the more the merrier right?

 It also grants you an easy answer to the inevitable question of “So what do you do for a living?” rather than having to explain your relationship with Mr.Hara or trying to avoid the question totally. 

You straightened out your burgundy blouse and picked at the little fluffs on your jeans, before entering the house.

He had told you to just let yourself in when you got there and that’s exactly what you did. 

When you finally strolled into the house, your jaw immediately dropped. 

Girls! Girls! Girls!

Girls of all different shapes, sizes and colours were littered around the living room, relaxing in the pool and snacking in the kitchen.

“Lonely my ass,” you thought. 

Your presence had quickly caught the attention of a particular blonde who sprinted towards you at lightning speed. Her piercing green eyes and strikingly long legs had even you mesmerized. 

You were definitely in the presence of a Victoria Secret model.

“OHHH you must be Y/N, Daddy told us to look out for you!!”

Daddy? 

“He’s in his office. Come! Come!” 

After giving the door a few light taps, you heard the low timbre of Mr.Hara’s voice beckoning you to come in.

“Ah y/n. I see you’ve met Lada.” he chirps. 

The girl in question whose accent you have picked up to be Russian smiles down at you brightly. 

As Mr.Hara dismisses Lada, he calls out to another girl who suddenly appears from under the desk.

You nearly had heart failure.

She strides out with Lada, patting down her purple lingerie.

You physically had to bend over to pick up your jaw from the floor.

Mr.Hara smoothly turns to you in his chair, totally unfazed. 

“Glad you made it Y/N, welcome to your new job.”

* * * *

This chapter gives a lot of background but sit tight, the drama is comingggg 🤪

TAGLIST

@jazzylove @blkirishima 

[vs-redemption]

I JUST CAME UP WITH THE CUTEST THING EVER!

Okok so UA prom night. Bakugou and reader have had secret crushes on each other but like it’s obvious to everyone except each other. Prom is prince/princess themed ok? Everyone goes in groups rather than singles bc no one wants to be left out right?

Bakugou and Reader are crowned prom king and queen!!! And they get their own dance while everyone watches — the song is the Beauty and the beast (a perfect fit for the two). And I think it’s adorable and maybe maybe they kiss 🤭

-🐱❤️

From Cindy: Okay so... lol inspiration for this suddenly smacked me in the brain and it ended up being so long (1,761 words). I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t stop. I had so much fun writing this so thank you 🐱 anon for another great idea.

Prom (Bakugo x Fem!Reader)

When your friends decided to attend your senior prom as a group rather than go through the trouble of finding dates, it was both a blessing and a curse for you. On the one hand, going with the social circle that you’d spent every moment of your high school years with provided the guarantee that you’d have a good time at the prince and princess themed dance no matter what. Plus, you wouldn’t end up in the awkward situation of either being rejected or getting stuck trying to make conversation with a single person the entire night. The downside though was that you had a very specific person in mind who you’d been dreaming of going to prom with ever since he’d caught your eye during the entrance exam to get into UA.

That person was Katsuki Bakugo.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had a chance with the explosive boy in question. He was in the same class as you after all, and although you had formed a weird sort of friendship over the years, he’d never shown any signs that he might return your feelings. And boy, did you have feelings. Through all the intense hero trainings and group study sessions, you’d really been able to get to know the ins and outs of his personality. You knew Bakugo came across as arrogant and abrasive at first glance, but somehow you’d never been able to see him that way. In your eyes, he was the most hardworking and passionate student in the whole school. You couldn’t help but admire how confident he was in his own strength and determination. Ever since his admittedly wild behavior during the sports festival in your first year, people had doubted his choice to pursue a career as a hero and criticized the way he interacted with other people. Never once did he waver in his goal though. He just continued to blaze forward, studying and training hard with that same unwavering persistence that you both loved and envied.

“You look amazing in that dress!” Mina winks and throws you a thumbs up as you all crowd in the dormitory bathroom to help each other get ready.

“Yellow really is your color,” Momo agrees with a smile. “People might actually mistake you for a real princess.”

“Stop!” You were blushing a little from all the attention and from the way your thoughts ran wild with fantasies of Bakugo finally noticing you as more than just a fellow hero course student. “We’re all going to look amazing tonight.”

“Good,” Hagakure chimes in, her pink dress fluttering around her invisible body as she twirled in front of the mirror. “We can’t make it too easy for the judges to pick the prom king and queen!”

Once everyone was ready, the group made their way down to the common room where all the boys were waiting. They all looked handsome and uncharacteristically dressed up in their suits, but you only had eyes for one of them. It was almost unfair how good Bakugo looked. His spikey blonde hair and fiery red eyes were already enough to give you butterflies, but the way his dark blue suit jacket fit perfectly over his broad shoulders and tapered down to show off his narrow waist had you feeling even more flustered.

“You idiots finally ready?” He asks, shoving his hands into his pockets casually. You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the way he’d carried on about dances being lame and how there was no way he’d go. You knew from the start that it was all talk. There was no way he would’ve allowed himself to disappoint his friends like that. He cared about all of them more than he’d ever admit.

The dance coordinators at the school had gone above and beyond when decorating the gymnasium which now looked like a scene out of a fairytale. Everywhere you looked had twinkling lights and cutouts of castle towers and horse drawn carriages. You and your friends made your way inside, smiling and waving to familiar faces from other classes and taking in the atmosphere created by the lighting and music. Finally, you noticed the platform set up in the back of the room where two empty thrones sat for the prom king and queen.

“All right! I’m ready to dance now!” Mina cheers once most students had arrived and the DJ, also known as Present Mic, had started to play more upbeat music. You followed her and the rest of the group to the center of the room and jumped right into the action. Time passed quickly as you got lost in the music and dancing, taking breaks every now and then to get something to drink and rehydrate. Never once though did you lose track of Bakugo’s presence. Whether he was on the dance floor, or off to the side talking to one of the others, you always seemed to know where he was like there was some sort of magnetic pull. It didn’t stop you from having a good time, but it made you wonder how much more magical the night would be if you could just steal even a single moment alone with him.

“All right! It’s that time of the night kids!” Present Mic announces later in the evening. “It’s time to announce this year’s prom king and queen!”

The room quiets down and everyone huddles together, feeling the building anticipation over the big reveal. You knew it was only the popular and good looking people that usually got chosen, but you were still excited, hoping that someone from your class might get the chance to wear the symbolic crown or tiara. Present Mic holds up a note that he must’ve gotten from one of the judges and looks down to read the names.

“And the results are in!” he says overdramatically, “Everyone give it up for your king and queen.”

The first name to come tumbling out of the man’s mouth was Bakugo’s, making you freeze up a bit and turn to look at him in shock. Of course he deserved it, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous already of the girl that would get to have the one on one dance with him after being crowned. The noise in the room seemed to fade out as you watched your crush turn and start walking right toward you, suddenly offering you his hand.

“Wh-what?” You didn’t understand, especially since the rest of the girls were suddenly squealing in your ear and patting you on the back.

“He just called both our names, dummy,” the insult comes out as a term of endearment which was normal for Bakugo, but the slight pink blush covering his cheeks was definitely new. He takes your hand into his and you awkwardly follow him up to the platform almost in a daze. You hadn’t even heard Present Mic call your name, but suddenly he was placing a glittery tiara on top of your head and a crown on top of Bakugo’s.

“Are you two ready for your dance?” the teacher asks. Truthfully you weren’t but you find yourself nodding anyway, your mind still trying to catch up with your body.

“You all right?” Bakugo asks, sounding just as uncomfortable as he pulls you into the middle of the room which was now clear of people. You were kind of surprised he was going along with all of this so easily, but before you could think about it any further “tale as old as time” starts to play over the sound system causing your face to heat up in embarrassment. You nod wordlessly again, answering his question. Suddenly he’s pulling you closer, one hand holding your own and the other sliding cautiously to the middle of your back.

For a moment, you are way too caught up with wondering how you’d ended up in such a situation to actually enjoy the way Bakugo starts to gently sway you back and forth to the music. A quick squeeze to your combined hands forces you back to the present and you look up at him nervously. “There you are, princess,” he lets out a short laugh. “I was starting to get worried for a second.”

“P-princess?” You stutter out the nickname. Bakugo’s confidence slips for a second and he averts his eyes, the pink on his cheeks becoming more pronounced.

“Well… it fits the situation, doesn’t it?” he mumbles before glancing up. “We’re royalty now.” Some of the tension leaves your body at his predictable behavior and you let out a small laugh.

“Only for tonight,” You point out, your lips forming a sad smile as you both continue to move across the floor to the music.

“It… uh… it doesn’t have to be,” he blurts out, his eyes continuing to look down.

“What do you mean?” your question comes out sounding breathless and the intensity of his gaze when it meets yours makes your stomach do a flip.

“I mean, this is kind of how I originally pictured prom to go before all those idiots suggested coming as a group.” He was still mumbling a bit but you heard every word.

“You were going to ask me to be your date?” You ask, your voice laced with shock and disbelief. He swallows thickly and then nods his head. The simple gesture fills your heart with happiness and you lean closer into him and tuck your head into his chest. All too soon, the song comes to an end and you’re forced to pull away. You don’t get too far before Bakugo is tugging you back and pressing a warm kiss to your cheek.

“If it’s all right with you,” he says softly while lifting up your hand in his, “I’d like to hold onto this for a little while.” You smile happily and lean forward to return his kiss.

“Bakugo, you can hold onto it for as long as you like,” you tell him honestly. His eyes light up at your words and he looks very much like the prince you had always imagined him to be.

After a moment, a new song began to play and the dance floor filled up with students again. You and Bakugo go back up to the platform to sit in your designated thrones while all your friends crowd around the two of you, congratulating and teasing you both. Surrounded by your closest friends with Bakugo’s hand clutched firmly in your own, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending to your prom night fairytale.

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

“Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[madpatkats]

One edgy painting

Ship: prinxiety Setting: College au Description: This was a bad idea.  Virgil knows this as soon as he sees Roman.  How on earth is he going to make it through the next couple of hours?

Dropping his bag on the floor, Virgil entered his apartment.  From the couch, Roman looked up.

“Hey! How are you?” he asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Stressed.”

Roman sniggered. “When are you not?”

Virgil glared at him but said nothing.  Eyebrows furrowed, Roman shifted closer.

“No snarky comeback? Something really must be bothering you.”

Virgil sighed. “It’s just- for my class assignment, which counts as a big percentage of my grade, I have to paint a picture of a model who I have to find myself.  And I have no idea where I’m going to find one.  I don’t want to have to talk to someone who I don’t know but I doubt anyone I already know would be interested and-”

“I’ll do it.  If you want of course.”

Virgil stared at Roman. “Really?

He grinned. “Of course, I’ve had some experience with headshots and whatnot and I’d do anything for you.”

Smiling softly, Virgil felt his cheeks turn pink.  Boy, he was thankful for the thick layer of foundation he wore.

“One thing though,” he said. “There is a theme for my art though which I have to follow.”

“What?” Roman smirked. “Dark and edgy?”

Virgil looked at the floor. “Look-”

“Oh my God!” Roman burst into laughter. “Really?”

Virgil smacked his arm. “Shut up!”

Minutes later, when Roman had calmed down, he finally took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m fine with that but- uh- I don’t really own anything edgy.” Roman thought for a second. “What about your leather jacket?  I’m pretty sure that would fit me, it’s slightly too big for you.  What do you think?”

Virgil could then not see anything other than that image in his mind.  Unable to speak, he nodded.  The painting session was certainly going to be something.

-----

Leaning against the tree, Virgil waited for Roman.  The prince-like boy had said something about needing to look picture perfect and Virgil just decided to meet him on the outskirts of the forest.  In his head, it was ridiculous that Roman needed more time to get ready than usual.  He’d seen Roman minutes after he woke up and thought that he still looked just as cute as when he spent hours on how he looked.  Pulling him out of his thoughts, Virgil heard foot steps approaching and looked up.  Heat shot into his cheeks as he watched Roman approach.

His normally perfect was tousled and swept over to one side.  Black eyeliner defined his sparkling eyes and the black outfit hugged his figure perfectly.

Roman grinned. “How do I look?”

“Uh-” Virgil gaped. “You look... amazing!  Not that- not that you don’t usually but just- uh. You look good.”

Roman’s smile softened.  For a moment, they just stared at each other. Snapping out of his trance, Virgil clapped his hands and started to tell Roman about the positioning.  In a couple of seconds, Roman was leaning against a leaf-less tree, Virgil standing a few feet away, already beginning to sketch.

----

Only when the sun was setting, were they finished.  Returning to his normal facial expression, Roman peered at the painting over Virgil’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ Superstar! This is amazing, V.”

His ears turned red. “Thanks, princey.”

He stepped aside to give Roman and couldn’t help but stare.  He looked so cute dressed in Virgil’s jacket.  And the soft smile that played on his lips was so sweet and Virgil couldn’t control himself from speaking.

“Can I kiss you?”

As quick as a flash, Roman turned his head, blinking in surprise.

“What?” He whispered, barely above a whisper.

“Crap! Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve said anything. Oh god.  Just... uh-”

“Yes.”

The words stopped tumbling out of Virgil’s mouth. “Huh?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

Smiling softly, Virgil lunged forward and connected their lips. And there, holding each other, the whole world around them slipped away.  All they could see was each other.

[2manyfandoms2count]

Sleepless in Paris

I ended up not posting anything Ladrien in June when I'd planned to do something, but then I saw the last prompt of @ladrienjune (Speechless), and since it tied in with an idea I had a couple of weeks ago... Here you go!

Established Ladrien, Adrien receives a text from his girlfriend and overthinks its meaning. Thankfully Ladybug comes and clears things up.

Loosely based on a quote from Le Discours, a novel by Fabrice Caro.

Read on AO3

---

Adrien, we need to talk.

Adrien read the message over and over again, like an overworked student stuck on a paragraph whose meaning just won’t register.

He tossed his phone aside and lied back down, rubbing his eyes as he did so.

Oh, how much he regretted ever getting Ladybug a private phone so they could communicate. It had seemed like a good idea after their third close call, when she had almost swung into his room like she owned the place (and maybe she did, she was his girlfriend, after all, anything was possible), in the middle of an impromptu piano recital his father had requested. Thankfully, the false notes he’d made upon seeing her almost crash into the window had covered any sound she’d made as she changed course, and made sure his father and Nathalie’s attention was on him, and not on the red blur just outside.

She’d laughed so prettily when she’d unwrapped the box and noticed that he’d painted little black dots on the back of the red phone case. She’d insisted on paying him back in kisses and sweet nothings. Even if he’d wanted to, he wouldn’t have been able to refuse; his girlfriend was convincing like that.

Yes. Those had been the good old days.

The ones when the messages he received from her didn’t come as a blow that made his stomach tie into knots and question if he was going to be okay (although that might not have been entirely true; the feeling he’d gotten when he’d read “I love you” on his screen, written down, not just whispered between two makeout sessions or before she left, a permanent trace of her feelings, could definitely have fit that description, but the difference was that he’d questioned if he was in heaven, then).

The timestamp of the message read Monday, 4:36pm. He’d managed to type a “when?” at 5:58pm, which she’d seen at 5:59pm. Nothing since. That was new, too. Even messages that didn’t require an answer always got at least a couple of emojis in reply.

It was now Tuesday, 6:12am, and he hadn’t slept a wink, dissecting the five words, twenty characters, like they were a long lost spell that could fix hunger on Earth.

The first thing he’d noticed was the full stop. That didn’t bode well - even he knew that nobody ended a text like that these days.

Then, the comma. A pause. Not great either, in the context of a relationship.

Especially when it came before a “we need to talk”. He didn’t need to have seen many romantic comedies to know that this was probably an end of the line warning.

Even his name was a sign.

Adrien.

Not “my prince”. Not “my love”. Not even “my Adrien”, like she’d taken to calling him recently. Just plain old boring Adrien . Until the message had arrived, he hadn’t realised they’d been on a downward slope, but maybe he’d been too busy burying his head in the sand to notice. Maybe deep down, he’d known that it wasn’t viable.

That Ladybug, basically a goddess among men, had no business being in a relationship with a commoner like him, however much she tried to fool herself by calling him her prince. Adrien. The more he read it, the more emphasis he put on the second syllable. Ad- rien . Ad rien. Towards nothing. Maybe she’d known they were doomed from the start, that they had no future, but she’d tried anyway.

Maybe he was reading too much into it and the lack of sleep was making him delirious.

Whatever the outcome, he supposed they’d had a good run. He’d cherish all of the moments they’d spent together.

Actually, he thought, sitting up again, maybe that was what she needed. Maybe he could change her mind if he reminded her of all their good memories. There was no way she couldn’t be convinced, or at least persuaded, by his plea. He hadn’t gone six months playing a double game of putting on a fake insensitivity mask over the one he wore with Chat Noir's to avoid her seeing through him, when she deserved to be showered in compliments at every moment of the day, for it to end this way.

He loved her.

He picked up his phone again and pressed the dial button.

One tone. Two tones. Three.

Adrien suddenly remembered the time, hastily hung up, and facepalmed audibly, making Plagg roll over in his sleep and hiss.

“Sorry,” he whispered, before turning his attention back to the phone.

If his call hadn’t woken her up, then his mistake would be the first thing she’d see when she did.

This was bad. It wasn’t like he could go delete the evidence. He didn’t know where she lived, and since he doubted that she slept while transformed, there was no way to track her. Which would also be bad, he reminded himself, but maybe this emergency would justify it.

Anyway,  he couldn't cry over spilt milk, but maybe he could escape. Just move somewhere, preferably on the other side of the world. He could change his life, his name (actually, could that alone change the outcome of their relationship? If he changed it before planning anything, could they pick up as if nothing happened, and would the timeline be fixed? He wished he’d thought about it before calling her), and raise hamsters in the mountains. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right? And then he could live happily ever after in the sweet, sweet illusion that despite them being miles apart, he still lived in a world in which he was Ladybug’s boyfriend.

He didn’t know if he preferred the idea of her never coming after him, or her seeking him out, even if it was to deliver bad news, but it didn’t really matter. The plan sounded good. Foolproof.

He hopped off of his bed and pulled a suitcase out of his closet. He’d always wondered why his father stored them there when it really seemed like an unnecessary temptation, but at least it was useful now.

If he was to start over somewhere, he needed to leave Adrien behind. The guy was a train wreck anyway, but unfortunately for him, a train wreck people would want to find, when he just wanted to be left alone to mope.

No more white shirts, then. They were too recognisable. He found a collection of dark hoodies at the back of the closet and stuffed them in the bag, along with t-shirts (they’d be hidden under his hoodie so he could keep those), a pair of jeans and some shorts.

He came back into his room and put his suitcase on his bed, scanning his surroundings for other essentials. His eyes landed on the fencing cup he kept his Ladybug pictures in. He’d definitely need those. It would help maintain him in his illusion. He also needed his Ladybug pyjamas, which he kept hidden since he wasn’t sure his father would approve of them. They’d be perfect for his new life.

Plagg stirred on his pillow. Before Adrien could ask himself whether it was reasonable for the small god to come with him, there was a knock on the window, and he froze. He turned around slowly; Ladybug stood in the window frame, looking glorious in the soft dawn light. He noticed she was holding a small paper bag in her left hand. He was sure it could fit everything he’d ever gotten her.

“Going somewhere?” She frowned, hopping inside before he could even move.

Adrien stared at her, before guessing he’d better bite the bullet. “Well I just figured I’d rather not stick around if you’re going to break up with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

He watched her face fall and started to doubt his conclusion.

“Break up with…” she muttered slowly, as if tasting the words, before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Adrien, we need to talk.” He airquoted. “I get it, it’s fine. I’m-”

“Adrien, I’m not here to break up with you. At all.” She shook her head again and took a step forward. “What would make you think that?”

“Adrien, first of all,” he stated.

“Your name?...” She tilted her head inquisitively.

“You used to call me my Adrien. Or sweeter stuff.” He pointed out.

“Oh Kwami.” She shook her head, trying to repress a smile, although the blond didn’t notice.

“And then don’t think I didn’t notice you being less present lately.” He waved a finger at her, feeling himself blush. He knew his accusation was a tad hypocritical; sure, their date hangouts in the previous few weeks had been less frequent than they’d been at the beginning of their relationship, when she’d drop in practically every day, but they’d also been full of Akumas and photoshoots, what with his father’s new collection dropping. She’d managed to beat him to his room most days, hanging out around the windows as she waited, which had made it very difficult for him to sneak back in.

But on the occasions they had seen each other, she’d also seemed more lost in her thoughts than usual. Nervously wringing her hands together while they chilled in front of a movie, despite him soothingly raking his fingers through her hair. Being even more elusive about what was going on in her life, if that was possible. Looking at him with determination in her eyes, opening her mouth to speak, only to close it and shake her head with a sigh.

“I’m really sorry about that, my love .” She gave him a pointed look as she took his hand. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately, about you, me, our relationship. How, you’re right, it might seem like we’re spending less time together to you , but…” she trailed off, biting her lip.

“How could that statement have a but ?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, um, I had this sort of crazy idea, because we’ve only been dating for six months and it’s totally not like I ever imagined us getting married and having three kids and a hamster or anything…” she mumbled nervously, and Adrien felt his heart flutter in his chest. “Anyway, I’ve been trying to get a hold of Chat Noir all night to check that he approves the idea, and also because I feel like it’s kind of an unspoken agreement that unless it’s an emergency and it really feels right, we’d do this together first, but he’s not replying and I was awake and you were awake and I thought…”

“Okay my… Lovebug, breathe.” Adrien’s caring boyfriend instinct kicked in as her rambling gave him confirmation that their relationship wasn’t in immediate danger, and he placed his hands on her shoulders, taking a deep breath to show the example. She mirrored him, and they breathed in sync for a couple of cycles, until he was satisfied that she’d stopped hyperventilating. He lead her to his couch and helped her sit down.

“Croissant?” she asked shyly, presenting him with the bag she’d brought. A pastry bag. Not a bag with his belongings. He really needed to stop jumping to conclusions.

“You know me so well.” He smiled brightly as he took one of the baked goods. They were still warm. The croissant didn’t last long in his hands. “Anyway,” he gulped down the last bite, “if you don’t mind me asking, what was your miraculous idea?” He smiled at himself, proud of his pun.

“Well, I was thinking that I could reveal my identity to you,” Ladybug replied, daintily wiping the corners of her mouth with a tissue.

It was a good thing Adrien was already sitting down, else more than his jaw would have ended up on the floor.

“Your… Your identity. Reveal. To me.” He asked seriously, hoping his words would make sense to her. It was better than remaining speechless.

“Yes, I am considering it,” she laughed. The sound made his brain tangle even more.

“Why?” He croaked.

“Well, as I said, it would enable us to spend more time together.” He raised his eyebrows, but she didn’t elaborate. “And I don’t know, I feel like it would be right. You’ve got something, Adrien.” She smiled tenderly.

“I… I do?” He felt himself blush.

“It’s just a croissant crumb, there, let me get it for you.” She leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth. The contact jump started his brain.

“Ladybug, this is serious.” He backed away slightly. “Why me?”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Well, you're my boyfriend, but I know you a lot better than you might think. Before you say anything, no, I can’t tell you why yet, I need to speak to Chat Noir first. But there is something about you, Adrien. I feel like I can trust you. With this. Because of course I trust you otherwise.”

Adrien looked down at his hands and twiddled his thumbs, pouting as he thought.

“Adr- Sunshine? Is everything alright?” Ladybug placed a concerned hand on his thigh when his silence stretched to a slightly uncomfortable length.

“When you talk to Chat Noir, and he agrees to your plan…” He looked up and met her gaze.

“If,” she corrected him, but he waved her interruption away.

“...Will you guys reveal your identities to each other? Will you ask Chat Noir who he is under the mask?” He felt almost feverish as he searched her eyes for a hint of the answer before she could speak.

“Um, yes, I guess that’s how I saw the discussion going.” Ladybug frowned. “Are you concerned that it will change our relationship somehow? Because I promise it won’t, I-”

“Oh Bluebell, it definitely will, but not in the way that you think.” Adrien pecked her lips, a mischievous smile spreading on his as he pulled away.

“Oh?” Ladybug blinked a couple of times. Adrien tried to hide his smugness at her speechlessness.

“Yep. You see, I’m one hundred percent paw-sitive your dearest partner will agree to your plan.” He grinned, watching the realisation dawn on her face.

“How hard was refraining from making cat puns in the past six months?” Ladybug finally sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Very, my Lady.” He pouted. "But not as hard as refraining from kissing you on patrol."

“Maybe you can help him pay up all the Camembert he owes me for sitting through him ranting about all the missed opportunities,” Plagg called out, making her jump slightly. Adrien rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, you were right, your plan really will allow us to spend more time together!” His face lit up like a kid's on Christmas morning.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Ladybug shook her head, before looking back up at him, an indecipherable look on her face. “Need a lift for school?”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” Adrien looked at his girlfriend with kitten eyes, disappointed that she hadn’t held up her side of the bargain.

“Well, it’s time to go if you don’t want to be caught by your bodyguard.” She shrugged, stood up, and extended a hand toward him, the twinkle in her eye the only tell in her poker face.

“Ladybug…” He whined, pouting.

“What, Chaton?” Her smile finally broke free. “It’s very literally on my way. I can drop you off at your seat, and then walk to mine… Right behind you.” She booped him on the nose.

Once again, Adrien was thankful he was already sitting down.

As she carried him to school, Adrien decided sleep was overrated. Sometimes reality was the best dream of all.

[shhhlikeme]

THE SEXY

HALL🎃WEEN COSTUME 🎃👻💀🍬 YOU WEAR THAT MAKES YOUR VOLLEYBALL PLAYER GO: 🥵🥺 part 2

Haikyuu!!

Ft. Tendou, Kenma, Daishou, & Aran

Part 1 | Part 2 🩸 Part 3 🩸 Part 4 🩸 Part 5 🩸

Ojiro Aran -

A Pretty AF Princess👑👸

this hubby-material, absolutely perfect creation of a man has a royal kink. It’s not up for debate! 

argue with your mother if you disagree

Not in some crazy cocky sense where he thinks he’s royalty or something...

It’s moreso that he literally sees you as his princess already..... and treats you like it—even though you two have only been on a handful of dates!!! 

Where you wore cute and casual outfits only. 

Sooooo when you’re dressed as how this boy actually sees you....mannnnnnnnn

Aran Ojiro is all: 😦😦‘s and 🥺🥺🥺🥺’s

and a whole lotta 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩’s

Be prepared for him to shower you with compliments and attention, god damn 

At the Olympic Team’s sober bar hop yall go to, Aran’s telling you how beautiful you look and how much a crown on your head suits you every half an hour 

It puts butterflies in your stomach every time.

He’s dressed as a Prince to match you (which you had to beg him to wear because he doesn’t like the attention) and the entire night your new boo thing was treating you so sweetly 

Kissing your hand, holding you bridal style through door frames, bowing to you 🥺🥺🥺🥺 the whole nine yards

The twins, Bokuto, and even Sakusa kept making fun of him for being so simpy

But the man didn’t care lmao! he kept speaking over the boys when they chirped him, yelling at them that they are FORBIDDEN TO SPEAK TO YOUR MAJESTY WITHOUT ROYAL PERMISSION 💀

You couldn’t stop blushing, even though you were shy... you secretly felt like you were on cloud nine by the way he was being with you, honestly 

You thought the dates couldn’t get better but here we are.

“Ojiro..........” You blushed as you watch the guy you’re seeing and falling in love with Oop— press his plump and soft lips to you hand again.

“Hm?” He asks, opening them and looking up at you through his long lashes. He never removed your hand from his lips. You swooned even harder as your heart pounded, looking away. You tried again. 

“Umm.... you’re just being so kind treating me like this all night even though your friends are making fun of you, and you say it’s because I am your Princess but.... you do know that YOU’RE the one that gives off a Royal vibes, right?! Your entire aura and the way you carry yourself—even when I first met you—screams King. Plus everyone says it. That’s why people keep saying how much your costume fits you. You’re Like........” You gave yourself a beat to think. “—-you’re like the kind and gentle Prince who takes over his father’s throne and changes all the mean laws that were there.... then takes the peasant girl for his wife because he only cares about true love. That would totally be you. You’re like, amazing, Ojiro.” 

You were still looking away from your crush when you finished, immediately wanting to sink in a hole caused by utter embarrassment. 

What am I, a damn Disney narrator?🙄, you thought pathetically. 

Aran studied your features when you said all of this, his eyes softening. As soon as you were done speaking, he romantically pressed his lips against your hand again and then brought your hand down between you two, holding it. 

Next, he gently turned your chin with his free hand so that you were facing him, and so that you could see the sincerity in his eyes. 

You whimpered from the intensity you saw there. 

“Y/N,” Ojiro began in his gentle-king voice. 

“I could really go on with a monologue right now about how you carry yourself the same way you just described for me—like a Princess who overtakes her father’s throne and denounces any preexisting closed minded laws, then decides to give the humble baker—that’s me, a shot at a life of euphoria with you...... but I’ll save that for another time....” he paused, and you swore that you would never forgive yourself if the tears you were feeling decided to fall and ruin this moment. 

“No! It’s you, Ojiro. I’m not even close. You’re so perfect and—“ A handsome smirk graced Aran’s handsome face, making your butterflies explode. Somehow looking at that smirk you just knew that he could tell you were holding back tears with everything in you, so, being the modern Prince he is, Aran came to your tear-saving rescue. He lightened the voice, effectively lightening the mood; but his eyes remained just as intense. He chuckled cutely before explaining the reason behind the intensity. 

“Okay well uhh, hey, if you insist on calling me a Prince.... Then... as my first order of duty 👑, I’d like to ask you, my fair maiden, if would consider being so kind as to call this Prince: your new boyfriend? I mean—damn—sorry, did they even use that term back then?!” 

Your heart bursted, practically springing out of your chest:

Not Prince Eric, not Prince Charming and not even Flynn fucking Rider had anything on how amazing this Prince was! 

Your emotions bubbled over, letting out giggles that sounded just like a real Disney Princess’. 

“Yes, Aran!” You exclaimed, lunging forward to hug him. Aran laughed brilliantly, thanking you. 

You just basked yourself in this ending: Not knowing that your “yes” was the beginning..... of your fairytale. 

A/N: shoutout to my upcoming King Aran AU omg I am smitten 🥺🥺🥺

———————————

Kenma Kozume -

Gamer Girl 🕹🔌

When it comes to Halloween costumes.......

You and your boyfriend Kenma are both lazy. 

So when Kuroo called and screamed at both of you because you promised to go to his work’s party tonight, (especially Kenma who would look really good to his superiors) you both reluctantly agreed .... again😑😑😑

While Kenma simply showered, dried his hair and put on your cat ear head band and called it a day, 

You realized that you had to scramble for a presentable costume. Shit. 

You scoured Kenma’s condo since you have been staying here and won’t have time to go home. 

Freaking out because you found shit all, your bf told you that you really don’t have to wear a stupid costume because this party is stupid and Kuroo himself is stupid. 

Speaking of the devil: kenmas phone starting ringing with the Kuroo ringtone, meaning he was calling. 

Kenma tried to ignore it, so you went into his game room to retrieve his phone for him. 

While you looked for his phone near his gaming set up, your eyes fell on your boyfriend’s Professional Gamer headphones. 

You placed his headphones on, fixed your glasses and decided you’d go as a cute gamer girl! 

Kozume followed you in after a while when he didn’t hear you on the phone, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw you. 

“Th-those are my headphones.” Your youtuber says flatly, trying not think about how mind blowingly attractive you look with them on. 🤯🤯🤯

You just pointed at his costume.

“And that’s my kitty headband. What’s your point?” You retorted, winking at him behind your glasses. “I have a costume now: I’m a gamer girl. Do you like it?” 

Cat boy could only nod, his eyes growing dark. He pictured you gaming and it made him suuuuuper turned on. 

You noticed and like the little shit you are, you closed the distance between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his neck. You puckered your lips asking for a kiss. 

Kenma’s cheeks flared up, unable to stop himself from looking down your tight black & white tank top at your boobs. 

In true Kenma style, he ignored your ask for a kiss. 

“Kuroo is probably ou-out-outside, Y-Y/N. We should go.” Obviously flustered, your boyfriend quickly collected his phone from his desk and made a beeline out of his game room. 

You laughed, calling out to him from your place in the room. “I saw your boner, Kenma!”

“Shut up.” You heard your monotone boyfriend call back. You could picture his blush.

You smiled. 

———————————

Daishō Suguru -

Poison Ivy 🧑‍🦰🌿🥀

Your boyfriend is a self proclaimed snake . 🐍 he even recently got one tatted on one side of his chest and it looks AH-MA-ZING

But anyways... like I said: 

Your boyfriend is a self proclaimed snake . 

.....And Snakes like leaves 🍃

Therefore, you dressed as a leaf.

LMAOOOOOOOOOO

After you got all ready, 

You Facetime’d him because he was away at a tournament and you wanted to show him your costume 

When Daishō answered while grocery shopping, he was not prepared. He dropped his phone, picked it up, stared at you in awe, then he quickly hung up on you. 

He didn’t want to sport a boner in the fucking meat aisle so he practically raced to the cash and called you back when he got in his car. Lol

no but fr Daishou went gaga when he saw you dressed as the sexy Poison Ivy

Not only is he a DC > Marvel Enthusiast, but Daishō loooved Poison Ivy because he and the super hero/villain had similar personalities 

Poison Ivy approached DC Universe situations the same way Daishō approached rival volleyball games: with a manipulative sense, a temptress grin, and ultimately being someone no one you can tell whether they are a hero or a villain. 

With all of that to consider, your man wasn’t even thinking about that because he was too busy thinking you look like sex-on-legs 

He stared at your body madddd hard

“Fuck me. I wish I was Clark Kent right now so I had x-ray vision.” He groaned as he covered his free hand over his face, opening his fingers to peek at you. “What are you wearing under those leaves? Anything?!” Your snake-like boyfriend tried to sound stern, but you knew better. 

“Nothing.”

Licking your red lips, you lean toward your laptop so that your boyfriend could see a close up of those red lips.

You saw him instinctively lean closer to the camera and take a deep breath.

“Your Best Friends/Name isn’t picking me up for another hour, Dai. But you and I both know that really means two hours. Anyway, I’ll slip on underwear when she gets here but I was....... sort of hoping you could show Poison Ivy that snake of yours......before then. She hasn’t met him yet🥺.”

In his rush to get back to his hotel for some hot ass web cam sex, Sugaru forgot the groceries in the car.  Oh well ;) 

the extra grocery trip he’d have to take later that night was well worth it. 

———————————

Tendō Satori -

Skeleton Chick w Dope Clown Makeup

“Y/N CHAAAAAAAANNNNN!” 

you cringed and put your hands out in front of you to protect yourself, just in time before your boyfriend Tendou tackled you on the bed you two share 

You expected this, and that’s why you had strategically placed yourself in front of the bed when you finally told your boyfriend you were done your makeup 

3 hours ago, you had a long talk with your red head as he sat down with his legs folded like a kindergarten student: 

���Ten. I love you, but you are NOT ALLOWED back in the room until I’m done my makeup. You’re too loud, and you’re making me shake. I need precision. I promise I’ll call you in when I’m done and have my costume on.” 

Just like a kindergartener student, your boyfriend gave you puppy dog eyes. 

“BUT—“ 

“Ztttt! No buts!” You shut your eyes so that you weren’t looking at his puppy dog eyes that get you every time. “Ten, you can come in as soon as it’s done.” 

You heard him sigh, so you sealed the deal.

“Don’t forget that You’ll be the first to see it, my special boy.” 

“Alright!!!!” Tendou jumped up.

“Please, bring me to the room and shut the door behind you.” Since your eyes were still closed, your boyfriend hummed and linked his arm through yours, doing exactly as you asked. He lead you to your vanity and helped you sit down. 

“I’ll be waiting! Cant wait to see it! I’m going to bake a Halloween cake to waste time!” 

You felt a familiar kiss to the top of your head, then you heard your bedroom door shut. 

God you loved that Chocolatier. 

***

3 hours later, you were questioning why you loved that Chocolatier🙄, because he was crushing you under his weight after tackling you

Your boyfriend quickly rolled off of you and began his chatter. 

This was both of your favourite holidays so Satori has been gushing the entire week 

“OHO, you look awesome, Y/N-chan! When I was young, no one would take Halloween as seriously as I did so they’d say hurtful things behind my back and it made me very sad.....!!! Last year Ushi actually dressed up as the peanut butter to my jelly which was cool, but he didn’t know the words to the song for Karaoke......” His eyes lit up. “But now I have YOU! Someone who loves October 31st as much if not more than me! Oh, and you look beautiful AND scary! How did you do that??? Can you do my makeup like that, my love?! I want to match you! I also want to make love to you..... and—“

You reached over and covered Tendou’s mouth with your index finger. 

This cutie shushed himself, making himself cross eyed because he was now looking down at your finger on his own lips

You laughed. There is so much you could respond to, but thinking about a baby Ten being all excited for Halloween and his stupid bullies making him feel like shit for it tug at your heart strings, disallowing you to say anything else to your brilliant Chocolatier:

“Ten...........I love you. Happy Halloween.” 😌

This time, you hadn’t had enough time to put your arms out before you were tackled by an enamoured Tendou Satori again. 

Who do you want to see react to your Sexy Hall🎃ween Costume next?

Part 3: 4/4 requested - closed 🚫

Part 4: 4/4 requested - closed 🚫

Part 5: (final part): 4/4 - closed 🚫

first come first serve - send me an ask!

Characters that are currently in queue: Iwa, Ukai, Daichi, Oikawa, Mattsun, Kuroo, Kyoutani, Akaashi, Tsukki & Noya.

[orsuliya]

This part (4 of who knows how many) of my Awu/Xiao Qi married headcanons resembles nothing more that a dying whale full of confused feelings. Which is exactly what I would swiftly turn to left alone with this drama without @madeleineengland’s continuous friendship and support. What I actually want to say is: Happy Birthday, my dear! I am thankful to have met you. I hope you like this instalment, even if I couldn’t quite manage to fit in a kneeling Song Huaien. Sorry!

There are some things that no woman can choose for herself. Some things simply happen – or not – as they please with no regard to wishful thinking or social status. A princess or a gravedigger’s daughter, a young maiden or a stately matron, none can simply will themselves pregnant, no matter how many prayers have left their lips and how many offerings have graced the altars, set there by gentle hands yearning to hold a living, breathing child instead of a bowl of rice or a stick of precious incense.

And yet, no matter how many times she whispers this truth to herself in the middle of the night, Xiao Qi’s broad hand resting on her lower belly in a sincere attempt to soothe the twinges of pain that come every single month without fail, there are still moments when Awu cannot help feeling as if she’s failing in the worst of ways. Not failing her husband, for until the day she dies she will never forget the truth shining in his eyes, still fever-bright from Wang Qian’s vile mixture despite the self-inflicted blood loss. And not even the twelve generations of Wang Empresses. After all, hadn’t she courted their disapproval already by choosing to walk through life hand in hand with her husband instead of living torn in half until her very last breath? No, the person whom she fails is always herself.

And in her mind she fails a lot. There is a bitter taste on her tongue as she pushes Xiao Qi’s wise, warm hand off her abdomen and rises from their shared bed to stand at the window, throwing open the shutters and trying to breathe, even as the feeling of warm blood pooling between her thighs makes her remember her first and worst failure, committed right in the middle of the palace courtyard. There were pamphlets, she knows, vicious, cruel rumours of how she bled her baby out from sheer disgust of having been bred by a man born nobody knows of whom and where. Only after every wagging tongue had already been silenced with a cloak of red silk set around her shoulders, did she realize that half the court must have been tittering excitedly over the prospect of seeing the proud Wang daughter set aside and brought as low as she had once sat high. And they hadn’t been kind about it, going as far as to comment that her swift appearance at the scene of the coup must have been motivated by her eagerness to be rid of her spouse as the balance of power finally shifted. Fools, what blind, base-minded fools all those high-born courtiers – many of them her distant kin – have turned out to be!

Princess Shangyang wouldn’t have felt such dark, all-consuming anger. Princess Shangyang, as Awu has learned in all her years as Princess Yuzhang, had been something of a fool, a bird kept in a gilded cage, encouraged to sing and chirp happily regardless of how the bars of that cage withered her wings. It was only later that this caged songbird discovered that she was no songbird at all, but a bird of prey. And like a bird of prey Awu wishes she had known of every single salacious rumour – but only so that she could tear their originators to shreds for using her poor never-born first child for their own vicious purposes, for making a spectacle out of her – their – pain.

In her anger she barely notices how her fingers have curled tightly over the windowsill… at least until big, calloused hands descend onto hers and she finds herself cradled in Xiao Qi’s loose, yet strangely grounding embrace. For a moment she wishes to slip away, to escape and simply be angry, no matter how futile it may be after so many years… And had he tried to lead her back to bed, had he spoken a single word, she might have done just that, but there is only silence between them. Only slightly unreal, moonlight-washed silence and Awu feels the flames of her anger sputter and go out, leaving only bitter, choking ash of regret.

Yet there is one kernel of failure she can exorcise right here and now for both of their sakes, even if it can never be made right in this life. If I have children of my blood, she says, allowing herself to let go of the magical ‘when’ this one time, seeing them entered into the Xiao family book would bring me greater honour and joy than if they were feted as princes and princesses of the first rank. And maybe after a moment she feels the need to explain further, to say that she would have been honoured to act as a filial daughter-in-law to his parents, no matter their birth and status, but before she can get out a word, he manages to catch her off-guard. Not with a kiss to the side of her neck, that much she has come to expect always, but rather with his quiet, sleepily tender reply: Before we get to filling any pages, we need to have a book in the first place. Help me with that in the morning? And what can she do in response to that except hum in agreement and lean backwards?

____________________________________

Some things simply happen – or not – as they please. Which does not mean one should not help them along in any way that comes to mind. Or several minds, as it happens in this case.

Doctor Shen, however wise and famous, is far from the only – or even the best – available authority on the matters of female body, partially due to not being of female persuasion himself. Unlike, for example, his assistant and niece Shen Yunxin, an aspiring female doctor in her own right. Once that accomplished, if rather young lady managed to make herself heard, she swiftly rose in Xiao Qi’s regard, and would have done so for her gumption alone, even if her medical skills hadn’t been excellent in the first place. Shen Yunxin, skipping the dancing-around that most of her male colleagues invariably tended to degrade to in the presence of any person of power, rather daringly announced that perhaps instead of concentrating solely on curing Awu’s infertility – and thank you, the acupuncture treatments she herself administers every week are going just as planned – they should perhaps focus on the picture as a whole. That is, after all, what a doctor should look at first, right? Especially as there is no material proof of Xiao Qi’s high fertility. The ‘or is there now?’ part remained unspoken; even though Shen Yunxin came to like her primary patient a lot and had her own reasons to distrust men and their promises, she – this time and always – held to the standards of professional behaviour.

Awu, for her part, really enjoys seeing Xiao Qi drinking bitter herbal concoctions of his own. Even if she might not be all that convinced by Shen Yunxin’s words, it surely cannot hurt anything. And why should she be the only one to suffer under a tyrannical medical regime? What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. And if in truth Xiao Qi doesn’t mind the taste at all, who would blame him for exaggerating a little for his wife’s amusement? Certainly not his wife, who has seen through his play-acting at once and swiftly decided that there is something to this mouth-to-mouth method of feeding particularly vile medicines to recalcitrant patients.

And yet Shen Yunxin isn’t the only fount of knowledge to be found in Ningshuo and, truth be told, has shown much interest in the secrets of folk medicine herself, especially as practiced by Alima’s kinswomen. Although some of those women, in particular Alima’s crone of a grandmother, have proven astonishingly… direct and rather shameless with their advice, to the tune of making a fully-fledged practitioner and an old married woman such as Awu, both of them hardly prone to prudishness, blush like girls not yet through their hair-pinning ceremonies. Or perhaps the advice was actually fine and tamer that one might expect. The enthusiastic appreciation that Alima’s kinswomen seem to hold for Xiao Qi, however, could probably fluster anybody, much less the man’s wife!

____________________________________

It is not entirely out of the realm of possibility that Awu decided to follow the kindly-meant advice of Alima’s grandmother. After all, the woman had successfully given birth to nine babies and gotten eight of them to adulthood, which would make anybody pay attention. Perhaps there is something to be said for the value of hard-won experience? And perhaps it was Shen Yunxin’s acupuncture skills that helped in the end, or even her insistence to look at the greater picture first. Or Doctor Shen’s bitter tinctures, or Xiao Qi’s unwavering, ah, helpfulness. Or possibly the fact that Awu finally decided that what will be will be and threw herself with doubled energy into the whirlpool of domestic concerns… which are truly never-ending, if one counts an entire province as one’s home.

Whatever the cause, Awu eventually achieved her goal… And yet she was among the last ones to actually suspect anything, the first being Xiao Qi and A-Yue, who had informed Doctor Shen and Shen Yunxin respectively, after having noticed some rather peculiar changes. A lady’s maid knows her mistress better than her own husband, although in this case, with the husband being an exceptionally affectionate one, that might not ring quite so true. Incidentally, the symptom that both of them had noticed was Awu’s sudden heightened sense of smell combined with a rather noticeably expressed aversion to her previously favourite perfume, which, you must admit, is a rather worrying sign.

As it turns out, both the uncle and niece had a good idea of Awu’s state, going by her last bleeding being more of a spotting than anything else – and you may bet Shen Yunxin monitors that closely – and yet they remained unable to fully ascertain their suspicions without any clear accompanying signs, nor were they willing to give any early hope, which may later be dashed. In fact, Doctor Shen would have preferred to avoid any agitation whatsoever for at least a week or two more, having had difficult experiences with this patient in particular, but one look at Prince Yuzhang’s face had him rethink that plan. Had Hu Guanglie been there – or alive in the first place – he would have immediately recognized that expression as Xiao Qi getting ready for battle, which he is quite sure he can win… but not entirely sure, with his doubt rising with every hour of there being no news of enemy movements. But even an amateur would be immediately wary of this sudden tension, for all that it might be hidden under an impressive facade of pretended calm. And Doctor Shen, after thirty years of practicing medicine among the upper echelons of Cheng nobility and staying alive – which is no mean feat – has learned to be quite sensitive to his powerful employers’ moods. As a survival tactic, if nothing else.

Another important skill, which Doctor Shen hasn’t yet imparted onto his niece, is judging when and where a doctor’s presence might be wanted... and when and where it is most certainly not needed. Pulling Shen Yunxin from the room by her sleeve might seem like a rather abrupt reaction, but it was by no means unjustified. Some things are simply not meant to be seen by outsiders. Prince and Princess Yuzhang facing each other and simply looking into each other’s eyes in perfect, tremulously joyful silence before the Princess lets out a hiccuping laugh and hides her suspiciously shining eyes against her husband’s collarbone is certainly one of those.

____________________________________

Xiao Qi’s first emotion after hearing the news is joy, then absolute panic – as far as that man ever panics, that is – and then steely determination most usually reserved for military planning. Having heard one word too many about miscarriage being a real possibility this early on makes him frantic and this in turn means that something really, really foolish is about to happen. Something like riding for the capital with only ten thousand troops. Something like going into Hulan alone. Something like dealing ungodly amounts of damage and letting his hair fly loose. Hu Guanglie would call this state a silence before mass decapitation. Were he there and alive, that is. Thankfully Hu Yao is both alive and there (deal with it, people!) and manages to redirect this thrumming energy into something actually constructive, which is probably the only thing that saves Awu and Xiao Qi from having an epic row over a series of very unreasonable ideas. Like, for example, shutting Awu in her rooms in the middle of Ningshuo Fortress and standing guard over her until the baby is born.

Meanwhile, Awu’s behaviour couldn’t be more different from that exhibited by her very own husband. Now that her years of continuous disappointment are over, she refuses to even consider that something might go wrong. At least not during waking hours, when she’s surrounded by a steady throng of people and children; and there is no way she would ever agree to being imprisoned in her rooms, although she agrees to retiring at the first sign of true fatigue and actually keeps her word, which causes her to share more than one nap in the middle of the day with little Song Guanglie. Which, in turn, makes for a pretty mellow Princess, especially right after she rises.

Which is exactly why this is the exact moment the brilliant tactician Hu Yao chooses to inform Awu that her fool of a husband (even if she doesn’t use exactly those words, she means exactly that) has evaporated with a troop of six into direction unknown, which may or may not be Hu Yao’s fault. Awu confirms that yes, Xiao Qi came in as she slept, woke her up briefly and said something about going on a short trip, promising to return as swiftly as possible. The look on Hu Yao’s face is rather telling and a tiny bit guilty.

That little overnight trip? Hu Yao is reasonably certain it is a hunt for something big and impressive. A local variety of wolf? A big feline of unfriendly persuasion? Probably not Hulan raiders, such as they are those days; she is rather insistent on that last point and for a good reason. That reason being that Xiao Qi had been making things strangely tense in the training yards, which are Hu Yao’s rightful domain, and so she decided to get rid of him by asking about preparations for the birth, no matter that the happy event may be six months away yet, and describing in great detail the extent of the prospective father’s involvement in those.

And seeing as it’s paramount – for future good fortune and the safety of both the mother and the baby – that no products of the birth are allowed to touch the ground, hence the need to provide a layer of ash, rushes or perhaps a cow’s skin as is the case in the wealthier families of Hu Yao’s acquitance, and taking into account that Xiao Qi has never done things by halves, his plan is rather obvious. Awu doesn’t know whether to feel strangely amused, immensely flattered and touched… or perhaps increasingly annoyed by losing her bedmate for such paltry a cause. For the moment she chooses option one, if only because amusement helps her forget about any apprehension the word ‘hunt’ might be causing her for rather obvious reasons. She will hold her judgement on options two and three until she sees the result of Xiao Qi’s bout of paternal madness.

The hero of the hour returns four days later, impossibly smug and with a bloody enormous salted pelt of a great brown mountain bear. Which he will then proceed to cure himself, because why wouldn’t he. Awu doesn’t have the words for what she’s feeling. Exasperation? Fond exasperation? A sudden onset of unexpected horniness? And I mean really unexpected, because bears smell and she’s still not over her olfactory oversensitivity. But mainly a burst of love and womanly pride. Sure, her man might be a fool, but he’s her fool and… I mean, it is a really big bear. Very, very impressive, if one was prone to being impressed by such things. Which Awu usually doesn’t find herself to be… Oh, who is she even trying to fool?

____________________________________

Xiao Qi has made something of a study of his wife’s body, which she had always been cognizant of to a certain degree. So it’s rather hard to say that it comes as a surprise that he’s able to tell when she begins to show even before she herself does – and she shows very early due to her general slimness. All the other things, however, are somewhat more out of the left field.

Like how he starts to send Awu’s maids out every time he catches one of them with a comb even before she confesses that somehow her scalp became really, really sensitive and in a rather peculiar way. Which he has apparently noticed and decided to take shameless advantage off, especially as the pleasure is mutual; Awu’s hair has become somehow both thicker and softer, a true delight to touch for a person as tactile as Xiao Qi.

Or how he suddenly stops going after Awu’s earlobes to her sincere confusion and irritation. She liked it, dammit, and what Awu wants, Awu gets, so the next time his mouth appears anywhere in the vicinity of her neck, Xiao Qi finds himself rather brusquely pointed at the desired target. The problem is, upon his acquiescence Awu finds it not as pleasurable as all that and really rather painful, her ears apparently having become rather sensitive practically overnight. By which point she has no other choice but to demand how had he guessed before she realized this about herself. His answer turns out to be rather disarming: You haven’t worn a single pair of dangly earrings for half a month.

The worst thing is, he is absolutely right. Every single time, which at the beginning causes no little exasperation, especially when Awu’s body starts rapidly changing and sometimes she feel like she hardly knows what she even looks like anymore. Is that pale, drawn face in the mirror actually hers? Why are her eyebrows suddenly so pale and whispy? And has she always had dark patches on the underside of her breasts? As time passes, all those other changes start looking less and less dire, having taken second fiddle to the most important thing of them all: a growing, living child nestled between her hipbones, which have lost all pretense of sharpness during those last few months. And so she starts asking questions. Not to fish for compliments – she truly cannot complain of a shortage of those – but out of true curiosity. What have you noticed that I haven’t? Show me.

And he does show her, claiming and re-claiming every inch of her skin as it changes and there is not a single moment in which she does not feel beautiful, or wanted, or loved, even when she’s absolutely miserable and sick, and bloated. Although she calls him a liar the one time he truly earns it by announcing her stitches on the newest piece in the increasingly elaborate layette to be the height of perfection despite them being crooked and all over the place due to her suddenly clumsy fingers. But just as he is her guide to her own body, she is his and there is little that she finds herself unable to complain of.

It’s their journey, their child, perhaps their only chance at this miracle and she absolutely refuses to hide, especially as her time comes near. Refuses to hide both literally and metaphorically, spending hours upon hours of increasingly warm, stuffy summer evenings laying naked on top of the covers and drawing nonsensical labyrinths upon her own skin with the tips of her fingers, every line closely followed by eager eyes, calloused hands or gentle lips; every single tap or movement from within met with genuine fascination and something not quite unlike worship.

____________________________________

There has hardly been a military campaign that involved more meticulous planning than the birth of this one tiny child, Ningshuo’s first princeling. Taught by Wanru’s premature experience with childbirth, both Awu and Xiao Qi remain rather wary of any fixed dates. The child will come when it will come, rather like the enemy, announces Xiao Qi, stopping the rather spirited discussion between the womenfolk about the necessity of early preparation and earning himself a fiery glare from Awu for using such inappropriate comparisons. By which I mean there is little to be done aside from observing the terrain and getting ready for an ambush, which may or may not come at any time, he explains, trying to mollify Awu and enclose her into his self-imposed bubble of confidence, usually reserved for use upon soldiers on the verge of panic, which is exactly what this discussion of premature birth has brought into their home.

And you know what, it actually helps, if only a little. Enough to take Awu’s mind off the possible complications and redirect her nervous energy into consulting with the astronomy charts and then choosing an appropriately situated side room, setting up curtains around the bed to serve as a birthing tent and getting that blasted bearskin out of storage. Which process they will ultimately go through four times, as the star charts – and thus best orientations – keep changing every month. And which neither of them will begrudge, as every single time they move the birthing tent Awu grows just a tiny bit more confident in the success of the upcoming labour and also more attuned to her own needs. At the very last milestone – during which she is comically enormous, but no less able to give out commands – she is an absolute nightmare, having everyone running around to and fro as well as throwing an absolute fit over the birthing rope, which she has agreed to previously.

Doctor Shen, being a great believer in getting his clients through labour alive and having a long-standing grudge against the usual way of birthing practiced in the Imperial Palace – which means supine, surrounded by a crowd of panicking women and with the doctor hardly able to see the patient in order to preserve their chastity – instills a certain regime, which is perfectly in accord with the traditional ways dictated by medical practitioners of old. By which he means peace, no more that two calm attendants at one time and letting gravity do part of the work; the last thing meaning that a length of rope or cloth should be suspended from the ceiling or perhaps stretched between two pillars at at appropriate height, so that the mother can support herself while kneeling or squatting.

In Awu’s case the arrangement changes from a hanging horse bridle – which while a show of status and a portent of good fortune proved to be not that comfortable after all – to a length of silk, to a rope stretched between two pillars. Which apparently doesn’t suit Awu any longer, not providing her with a steady enough support. While A-Yue and Alima keep tying and retying the rope to Awu’s continuous disapproval and even irritation, Xiao Qi doesn’t get involved. Yes, partially because in contrast to everybody else he doesn’t find his heavily pregnant wife a nightmare to deal with. Adorable, more like, the man is that hopeless. And partially because as long as Awu acts out on her irritation, she’s not getting apprehensive or despondent. So let her rage to her heart’s content. Now, the moment she goes silent and perhaps a little bit bashful over her previous outburst, he decides it’s high time for an intervention. Any intervention, even an absurd one. Which means that he disappears for a moment and brings back his spear, which he then secures in place of the rope to the growing disconcernment of everybody present. Awu finds it steady enough for her needs and it’s not like anything else matters.

Seeing as she goes into labour the very next day and finds herself properly appreciative of this improvised solution, Xiao Qi can’t find it in himself to really mind the rapidly growing slew of jokes and ditties starting to make rounds, although he makes a point of trouncing the most intrepid joker rather soundly. Or perhaps five of those, not that he’s in the right mindset to actually keep count once the entrance to the birthing room is barred to him. Before it is, there is still time to tell Awu– not for the last time, this isn’t going to be the last time! - of her bravery, of how only now does he start to truly appreciate what it means to send a loved one into battle and of how they’re going to carry this moment through their whole lives. You’re Princess Yuzhang, you will come back with a victory, hale and whole. You will always come back, he whispers into her hair, not sure who is he actually trying to convince as he hold his entire world in his arms, desperately trying to hide his fear. And failing miserably, which Awu cannot help but notice… once she gets through the current set of contractions. Don’t you dare to be a coward now, my Prince Yuzhang, she scolds, resting her sweaty forehead against his chin. Don’t you bloody dare. I have asked for this and I don’t take upon myself what I cannot carry. And now get out and let me fight my war. You know what I’m capable of.

And by all gods, he knows. And this steely determination in her voice scares him as little has ever scared him before. This time, unlike every other time when she’s risked her life this bravely, there will be nothing he can do to help her, no miraculous rescue, no last-minute shot, no hand ready to break her fall. Has he been too greedy, he ponders, only by a miracle avoiding skewering Tang Jing straight through the gut and then actually earning a light graze from Hu Yao’s blade. Useless, she pronounces, confiscating their weapons and hurrying both men off the training field. Absolutely useless. Go and do whatever it is that men actually busy themselves with while women do all the work.

It turns out that what men actually do in highly stressful situations is sharpen their swords as well as any other blade they may encounter. They are joined in this endeavour by Xiaohe, who will later be unilaterally – and wholly unfairly – blamed for each and every single skewed edge. Of which there will be quite a few. But then, what does an imperfect sword or ten actually matter, when after long hours of absolute hell, during which Xiao Qi has imagined at least five different worst scenarios ending in a pool of blood – just like that terrible day – and prayed to all the gods he has ever heard of, A-Yue finally comes, her wide smile speaking for itself.