#that man is *just* as much of a bastard as house if not moreso and that's why they click

[mybrainproblems]

Stop making Wilson lame and boring challenge.

Let that man be horrible.

[clownhara]

is there like a jester ocs 101 i do wanna learn about them

Putting these under a read more because this might get long

My family :)

Edward Roberts-Rosales: I made too many jokes about this bastard being my dad and now he's my dad. High key wants to fuck plants. Evades taxes like no ones business. Kind of a shit guy but it's funny to watch him mess up everything so we keep him alive for that alone Max Rosales: My better dad. Can really do so fucking much better than Edward but he settled </3. Is a plant man. Likes baking. Is the dad that actually loves me. Heron Rosales: I don't do to much with her but I'm trying to do more. Max's trans sister. Wants Edward dead and honestly, we don't blame her. Average chronic pain haver tbh please get her some Ibuprofen. Boaty McBoatface: My brother who is a boat. Edwards favorite son, despite being terrified of being on boats after he was the sole survivor of a ship wreck. I fuckinh hate this thing

Project Moon adjacent ones

Despise Domek (Or just Des): Local Enkphalin hooked rat. Goes by it/they but people close to it can call them she/her. There are two remaining people who can call them she/her. Steals things from people it likes to keep a piece of them, so don't invite them to your house. Things WILL go missing. Says the phrase "Well it didn't kill me so I'm fine" way to god damn often. Ambrose Domek: Not actually related to Des at all his parents just stole Des's parents last name. We heart religious fanaticism to the point of self harm!!!!!! Has two boyfriends and has convinced himself neither of them like him. Him and Des are besties :) Keith: Real Jester-heads remember Keith. I made this bastard before Ruina came out and he keeps fucking staying relevant to whatever game is out. How does he do it. Lobcorp him is Geb and Myo's adopted son, a Rabbit, and had a complex where he's gotta prove himself 24/7 and ends up getting his leg ripped off. Ruina him is trying to find Gebura again after the whole Library situation happened, and is wildly distraught after learning Myo's whole deal. Limbus Keith is content, much older, runs a weapons shop, and is gay married to Heathcliff. Jesus Christ I made him before the new translation of Lopcorp happened I think HOW LONG HAS HE EXISTED WHAT THE FUCK

Damien Domek: Also not related to Des, just took it's last name because he liked it. They are qprs though. Also is broke as shit but mostly stays out of the Rat lifestyle by just old fashioned robbing people. Loves lying to people for fun and profit, but he is honestly a pretty nice guy. Minus the lying

Randos

Arlo: Disgusting rancid cyborg scientist who needs to bathe and touch grass. I adore him though. Ellie: Arlos little sibling. She/they user. Kills people for money and feeds the bodies to the eldritch horror that follows her around Hector: The eldritch horror that follows Ellie around. usually just looks like a dilf tbh its easier for Ellie to explain. Can't actually speak so he usually just talks telepathically while making a bunch of hums, chirps, and clicks to mimic speaking.

Oleander: Local unethical scientist that unethicaled a bit too hard when trying to revive his even worse older brother and turned off most of his emotions manually to avoid coping with the mental toil. Sad! Many such cases. Can't feel any emotions other then joy now. Kinda sucks but he certainly doesn't seem to upset about it :)

Simon: Oleadners brother. Kinda. Moreso a robot piloting Oleanders brothers body. Fucking hates Oleander but after Oleander lobotomized himself Simon begrudgingly takes care of him now. Despite his complicated feelings, he's wildly overprotective.

Cybel: A robot Oleander made! They are meant to gather as much information as they possibly can in case some horrible event happens that kills off humanity. is quite literally indestructible. Likes ice cream.

Octavius: I made this guy to be a danganrompa villain back in high school and I succeeded too well. I fucking hate this fake ass bitch

Tabb: This fucking guy. Trapped in a time loop but he doesn't know and its technically not a time loop. Met his (now) husband ages ago but died shortly after meeting him, so he revived Tabb, then the two got married, then Tabb died again so Halt (the husband) revived him again but he lost his memories then halt died and Tabb revived him the Tabb died again so Halt revived him but he lost all his memories so they dated again and got remarried then Tabb died again and you get the idea. Very nice guy, a bit anxious, perfectly normal minus the dying thing. If it wasn't for him losing all his memories and Halt tampering with shit so he was in love with him i uh. Don't think he'd actually like Halt all that much tbh

Halt: Just wants to be happy with his husband :(. Sad he unethicaled all over that science. Hey are you noticinga theme here. Also he's a cat boy but thats really not relevant to his depression issues

Urge: Halts kinda milfy twin sister. Really sick of all of this loop bullshit because she gets to watch her bestie Tabb die repeatedly, so she packed up her bags and left. Can't be in the same room as Halt without them getting into a fist fight. Do you see the themeing with their namesan d their ideals. Halt is kinda halted in place but Urge keeps pushing forward because she has the urgeto move on. Do you see it. It is almost 1 am

Russel: A kid that got roped into this whole mess because he walked in on a Tabb revival tube without permission. Sticks around Urge most of the time. Had a bad homelife to put it mildly, so Urge took him in.

Theres way more of these bastards but these are the most relevant ones. I am going to bed now. Goobnight

[moonyasnow]

Okay as promised to feed you headcanons on interactions we had:

Irina and Aiden:

-Given she has a love for warm bread I feel given the HSA harvest event he could have made her a nice treat with it... he is a god in cooking among my ocs so I feel it will hit her like a truck how good it is... and that from a guy who doesn't seem like it at all...

-Her seemingly more stuttery in her language and him being super protective makes me think of a situation where she is just nervous and overwhelmed and he stands before making sure that she is protected and gets a rest. Aiden does have that glare that can scare others away that bother her

-Its winter and they share a scarf, cause it be cute and I can see Aidens ears twitch being slightly red and silent

-Both know about hanging out with the wrong people at times, so I feel it be a time where Aiden invite her to his dorm and from the tree houses looking down they could probably both share trauma and eventually hold anothers hand in assurance as in now they got another really

Victor and Eiji

-The beginning of their meeting be interesting to explore cause... Eiji is a homunculus... neither human neither fae nor beast or mer people... he is just a puppet so probably by default Victor might have not be interested in him untill watching his behaviour and what is off about it likely... Eiji is obviously hiding his true nature... but the accesoires, the rabbit paw in his room and the late night going outs are indicators something

-Victor wouldn't fear his threats and probably dig deeper into what he does and what is his secret but keep his secret... in exchange of being allowed to spend time with him... Eiji is still tired of it but does admit he likes his fascination so he grows softer

-I feel however Victor sadly helps him to get even better at covering up so it might be a danger to others, but them being lovers is just a twisted fascination with morbid things for sure

Veronica and Flynn

-He names people he loves after gems so checking his list he might name her Aquamarine

-I feel in the beginning he slightly egged her on... like they had a sword fight against another and all this man did is dodge instead of attack with so much precision it was hard to keep up with and even if she won she just asked him why he didn't attack and he just answer like "Cause watching you is more beautiful." he is a bastard like that.

-Some of her lines on her profile makes me think she might really start to care when she knows how less he cares about himself cause man sees his own life not of value and she could smack sense into him that dead he is moreso worth nothing than alive, its all him living to use his life for others not for himself that drove him with his trauma that way

-He wouldn't say anything about her brother at all... he himself did some bad things so he aint one to judge, and him being a bird might even get him and Victor to also be on decent terms

-This man will literally bring her huge bouquets and always be there surprisingly to be kept in her mind... I said he is percistent and that is mostly for once he found someone that fully got his interest he works hard to impress them... even if he would be better dropping his mask and being himself but... old habits die hard

-Either way if they get together or close she would find out about silly things on him like... hiding he likes fastfood to seem fancy and being terrible at cooking

The Irina and Aiden stuff, just cute and wholesome as always

Just know it'd take a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT for her to share her own traumas

She's probably the least willing to out of all my OCs. Even more so than Victor surprisingly?

Partly because she just had it reinforced in her mind so many times over and over growing up that if she didn't always make whoever she was around happy everyone would leave, so she had to just bottle everything up But she wouldn't be as assertive about boundaries as Victor would be, so if she felt like there was any kind of pressure for her to open up that'd just make it harder for her. That 'the more you reassure, the less I trust' kinda vibe

Also partially because she just really doesn't want anyone to make a big deal out of it. Like, she's already been through it, so someone making a big deal out of it and being worried about her would just make her feel worse I think

There are legitimately AUs I've imagined her in where she never tells ANYONE about the stuff she went through as a kid

My first thought about Victor and Eiji is— I feel like Victor would think he was interesting from the word 'go'. Liars can usually spot another liar a mile away, after all.

And the moment he gets even the TINIEST hint that Eiji isn't human, he is LOCKED IN. He is going to figure out this man's secret if it kills him. He wouldn't actually mind if it did kill him actually. That'd just make him even MORE obsessed actually. Freak that he is, he even finds it sorta romantic???

Like 'damn this person really just killed me because I got close to figuring out their secret. They're the one' lol

And yeah...every single ship I've ever imagined Victor in before the OC x Canon-TWST ship I have him in has been him and the other person 100% just making each other worse lol

Oooo and with Flynn and Veronica— first of all, she is a MASSIVE tsundere. STUBBORN about trying to seem like she doesn't care and thinks everything and everyone is stupid.

But if he was actively flirty like that from the get-go she'd more turn her nose up and like cross her arms and go 'hmph!' and like look away like she couldn't care less. She wouldn't be actively flustered by that specific kind of flirting, but that she's not actively like 'get tf out of my sight rn' is as much indication as you're gonna get that she's fine with it.

Mostly just because she doesn't believe he's being sincere.

Oh but she would 100% fall for him egging her on to fight every single time, and when he did nothing but dodge she'd just get even more upset, and if he het her with that line then, oh, she's DONE Like-- face is so red, and she's so flustered she keeps trying to like insult him (bc that's the only way she knows to react to feeling attacked lol, and she definitely feels attacked-- just hasn't figured out it's not in a bad way yet) but she can't even speak

So she's just like screeching and stuttering incoherently like:

"What?! Wh-wha— you— what do you— th-that's not— I never said— you— I— bgaaah!"

And then she's just storming off because she has no idea how to deal with that lol

Oh and she'd have a big thing of like: "Where the hell did you get 'Aquamarine' from?" (even funnier if he just refuses to tell her why lol)

Oh, and an interesting thing about Veronica is that, I don't think she really cares too much for gifts? She likes gifts that she can use— like a tool, or equipment of some kind, or clothing, or food But, though she'd understand the sentiment behind it, I think she'd struggle to know what to do with the roses lol

And a thing I love about Veronica is that when she has her 'oh shit' moment of 'I would care if you died/were gone', like-- she is gonna move literal mountains for you.

You wormed your way under her skin and inside her heart (somehow) so now you have to take responsibility for that! And by 'responsibility' she means taking good enough care of yourself that she won't need to worry about losing you. Because it would absolutely DEVASTATE her. She knows this about herself. That's why she's so cautious with letting people close to her in the first place

She is gonna force you to take care of yourself whether you like it or not

And honestly...I can see her just buying him fast food lol

She sees straight through that and does NOT have the patience to play along with his facade, she does not care how hard he tries to fake it because it does not work on her lol

[barnbridges]

tsh hot takes because i want to get cancelled apparently:

it's not that richard projects his feelings for charles onto camilla because she is a woman that skews the perspective on the twins, it is that richard, a homosexual man who hates women, admires camilla, but since he cannot truly carnally desire her, he projects her best traits onto charles. it is charles who is moreso described as an object of desire than camilla, actually.

henry is but a projection of richard's superego heterosexual man self. he doesn't as much desire henry sexually or romantically as he wants to be him, enter his flesh and never leave. the things henry has, from aesthetic to money to people who genuinely like him in spite of his obvious lying and manipulation, are the peak of richard's desires. henry saves richard because richard must make an imaginary friend that will be able and willing to. the "real" henry, the person that richard projects all of these issues into, is the person we meet at the end of the novel, the man who dates camilla and mocks charles' addiction and gardens. he is not completely undesirable to richard, but by far not as linked to him as richard would have liked to believe. the epilogue dream serves as just a reminder that the henry in the first parts of the book (prior to italy, really) has always existed just in le head, bunny's murder is when the fantasy escapes containment and henry diverges from being richard's wish fulfillment.

judy poovey is a great character, but she is by far not a communist or associated with the poor in any meaningful way. judy drives a car more expensive than francis "trust fund" abernathy's with gaudy license plates. she's not "the people" in the way of being poor, she is "the people" in a way of average person at a liberal arts college, who is there on family wealth to pass time and do drugs. same for cloke "my daddy called a lawyer" "i grew up in the corcoran house" rayburn, he is not "the people" or any sort of folk hero way, he is NOT poor in the way richard is. the twins are poorer than cloke or judy. it's a bastardization of the text to say judy is anything anywhere near a folk hero of the communists on campus.

it's a flanderization and a bastardization of the text and donna tartt's interviews to say "julian was behind it all"/"julian ""forced"" them to do it". like most adults in donna tartt's books, julian morrow is a bystander and detached. yes he is important to why the clique choose to do certain things, but i believe it takes away from the narrative and themes to say that everything has been nothing but puppetry and henry has no free will. henry is a fantasy of freedom, a nietzschean superman, his existence is drenched in having the freedom to do anything (because he's rich), think anything (he's smart) and manipulate anyone (because he's alluring), saying oh he was a manipulated meow meow breaks the fantasy into pieces and spits into it. julian is an idol, but like most gods, he only approves or disapproves, he does not get involved in their affairs.

similar to above, but it breaks the plot to say camilla is some manipulative mastermind. camilla takes care of charles for the rest of the epilogue until he forces himself out of the situation, i'm very sure she just does it because she lied about him assaulting her and she does Not at all have an abusive and codependent dynamic with him and is his primary caretaker. not at all. she is just a manipulative bitch who hates him, because ???? fghj it's very richard papen of a lot of the readers to assume that EVERYTHING camilla does is some conspiracy to undermine the men in the book for her personal gain. she's a woman who has been her brother's caretaker all of her life, and has endured his addictions and mood swings for far longer than richard has. we are shown, and told, that it IS a hard choice for her to pick henry (her safety net and her lover) over charles, who is all she has ever known from the moment she was born. she has faced abandonment and death before the plot ever began, and her reaction is not one of indifference, but one of character strength. she is not cold, but resilient in a way richard cannot comprehend a woman to be (they are all whiny airheads and hags, mind you), because she had to be, as an orphan and a caretaker. camilla in the epilogue is just as much of a resilient character as she has been before she ever stepped foot at hampden. her ability to endure and still find some grace for people like richard and francis, who have done nothing for her but betray and belittle her, are to me her defining character traits. she is a kind and loving person, who keeps herself guarded for very rational reasons. it'd be worthless that she rejected richard if he didn't ask her out of a desire to have this kind and loving person by his side and she didn't refuse because she had to take care of henry, charles and her grandmother.

the roses in henry's yard that smell like raspberries ran wild in the epilogue, becoming, you know, brambles.

[scalproie]

the way bloodline introduced an itch it barely scratched for me. What was it like for Jin to learn his father's name for the first time. Like yeah of course, Jin would need to do 0.5 seconds of research on Kazuya to learn that uh oh daddy was kind of a really shitty person (and we saw it onscreen, even) but Im wondering about the very first moment, in the three years where Jin trained with Heihachi, like, did Jin asked one day? Did Heihachi answered? Did Jin looked up who Heihachi's son -his father- was on his own? How did it felt, to finally put a name on the missing man he's been indirectly calling "father" all this time. And Jin keep asking too! Like first episode, Kazuya (or his absence moreso) feel present bc hes literally the first character we hear just before Jun wakes up! Jin asks Jun why they dont talk all that much about him! If you had a man in that house, the boy'd know better! Jin doesnt even look like he hates him bc he literally doesnt know anything about him! And episode 3 is aaaaaall about Jin trying to figure out stuff about his father, it's important enough to get a whole episode about it. And its so... something to me that Jin wants to confirm that badly what happened to his dad, even look upset at the notion Heihachi killed him, even after being told Kazuya was "a mean bastard, evil incarnate"! Fuck! Waiter! Waiter! More complicated father and son feelings please!

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 2: Fire

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Eponine had always been drawn to fire.

Perhaps it was a universal nature of all creatures; the same way she had observed moths flying towards the light of candles, so too was she drawn in by flame, bright and promising and warm, much that her life spent in darkness, bleak and cold, did not provide.

Were people drawn to good, in that same way? Eponine certainly didn't think so. What people were drawn to was survival; greed and an insatiable thirst to advance your own was what drove the people of this world. She would know, her own parents did so, particularly her father.

She shivered.

A fire in the night was a welcome change, but there is only so much a fire can do to warm up a chill that racked the body on the outside and paid no heed to the permanent ice that circled and hardened the heart like a vice.

Then the fire must represent all that is bad in the world; perhaps this was why she was drawn to it. When she was younger, her mothet had oftentimes called her an angel, her angel.

But she had quickly learned that all that had only been a fantasy, just as much as the comforts she once had. She saw now she was no angel, but moreso a devil. But it was all the same to her.

Perhaps this was why she was attracted to the flame. Perhaps it reminded her of home, the life that awaited her after this one; she certainly didn't think she had done quite enough to warrant a carriage ride to heaven. Though, it was not as if many of these bourgeois bastards had either.

She looked at her palm. It glowed in the firelight.

Should she have taken the coin from Marius Pontmercy? Any money is good money--she could certainly use it. But no. She would not accept his money, not for...this.

She stared at the flames, entranced. She wondered what it would be like to sleep in a warm bed in a warm house, have a warm meal, and a warm, comforting smile to say "it will be alright soon."

The devil gets no comforts, however. Not for so long as she was cast out of heaven, a sinner who begged repentance through bitterness everyday, who sinned as she tried to find love, and earned back her seat in heaven sacrificing that one source of warmth she found in such a cold and cruel world so another may find the paradise on earth she had long ago given up.

Warmth. Maybe it wasn't good or bad. Fire was in a state of constant duality; it's light and warmth was a gift from God to the cold and weary man. But touch the flame and you will burn. And that is when she knew she was drawn to fire the same way she was drawn to Marius Pontmercy, the same way she found herself carrying out his request; perhaps what she desired she could never have, but it is in human nature, just as it is with moths, to suffer and burn if only to touch the flame that warms the heart for even a single moment.

[mxpseudonym]

Too Many Questions

Pairing: Tommy x OC 

Reader Gender Expression: Male Reader (if you don’t mind straight up characterization)

Length: 4406 words (allegedly)

Warnings: None

A/N: Very self indulgent, it’s just an idea that came to mind. I’m writing a part two because this was getting too long for a tumblr post. Part II is sappy and possibly spicy, we’ll see. 

Edit: It was irking my soul that I split this piece into two parts so I combined them and now Part II doesn’t exist. 

Tommy’s Betrayal 

--

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Tommy's eyes snapped away from their leisurely journey tracing the lines on the man's face to his cool, unyielding brown eyes.  

"Do you keep thinking about her because she was your last chance at salvation?"

The question was sharp and unavoidable. It was inappropriate. It was not a question at all, but a statement disguised in the most palatable way possible. Most importantly, it was telling. Who knew Tommy Shelby better than Jack Brewer? Only Polly Shelby, probably.

If he were honest, Tommy didn't even know how it happened. Jack was young, only just approaching his late twenties, yet he was the puppet master of London Town. His utterly charming but never quite polite disposition only helped unnerve gangsters and politicians alike when he monitored them like chess pieces. Rumors overtook facts, leaving the miraculous path Jack took from being a banker's apprentice to untamed royalty a mystery of folklore proportions. To add to it, Jack's boyish, handsome features made him unassuming.

"Don't mind the priss. He's just bein' a nuisance in the corner," Alfie Solomons grumbled as he led Tommy into the office. The rum runner nodded his head towards the back of his office, revealing a clean-shaven 22-year-old in an expensive suit.

"You're grumpy today, Alfie. You still skipping breakfast?" Jack asked, an airy arrogance to his tone. He didn't look up from the folder he was reading from while Alfie barked a sassy rebuttal, but when Jack did, his eyes locked with Tommy's. Suddenly he was standing and approaching the businessmen with an outstretched hand. His manner was as relaxed as his firm yet comfortable handshake. "Thomas Shelby, how are you? I'm Jack Brewer."

"I'd say nice to meet you, but I don't know yet." Tommy watched Jack's eyes sparkle.

"This has already made my day."

"Do you mind? We have a meeting?" Tommy motioned to Alfie, not bothering with many pleasantries. Jack looked to Alfie, a playful smile on his face.

"Alfie?"

"The kid's my partner anyway. He's a puppeteer and a walking omen if you can believe it," Alfie, in his own way, vouched for the boy.

"Anyone could have predicted the war between the Jews and the Italians. You just have to think," Jack said with a shrug.

"What kind of partners are you?" Tommy asked as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. Jack's eyes flickered down to take in his figure for a moment, not minding for a second that Tommy caught the motion. He even looked him in the eye after.

"Alfie provides security for me, and I help him out with projects here and there. He can let you know which ones."

"Ah, there's a lot of trust between you then." Tommy nodded.

"Not really. We just understand each other. If I were to betray Alfie, I'd lose business, reputation, and all the dark rum I can swallow. If Alfie were to betray me, it would be in vain, and I'd make sure he wouldn't be able to leave more than a glimmer of false hope to his kin when he passes. Right, Alfie?" Jack looked back to Alfie, his smile still reposed and bright.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard you. Now quit your yapping and get over here, Tommy." Alfie motioned to the chair in front of him. Before he could, a hand reached out and placed itself on Tommy's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It would have been warm if Jack wasn't seemingly wicked at heart.

"Don't worry, Tommy, I won't interfere. I've got work to do back here."

That was a good four years ago, and now Tommy sat shirtless on a chair in Jack's posh, surprisingly well-used kitchen. Just a moment ago, Tommy was musing about how he felt robbed. It took showing up at half past midnight with a knife wound to see Jack with mused hair, wiry glasses, and a long-sleeved thermal pushed up to his elbows. Now, Tommy was looking at that same boy as if he'd lost his mind.

"You've got a lot of balls, Jack, and you're toeing a fine line. Why would you say that?" Though it was a threat, Tommy in no way thought Jack would be intimidated. Just as he suspected, the young man remained unfazed by his tone as he clumsily splashed iodine on a cotton square.

"You've always wanted more than any man could have. You loved and married an aristocrat who betrayed you because she wanted the clean version of you, and you wanted to be that clean version. I believe we'd call that a pacemaker of sorts, someone to keep you going in a certain direction. Doesn't really work that way when you're the type to risk anything to meet your goal. But it was a good try. Be brave now," Jack said, mumbling the last part as he leaned in and focused on Tommy's arm. It was only a flesh wound, a narrowly missed shanking from a rival gang's guerilla attack turned into a jagged slash on his left bicep.

"You're an insufferable bastard," Tommy said finally.

"And you suffer plenty. Is that why you like me?" Jack's eyes shifted to meet the icy blue ones for a moment, and gave Tommy a cheeky smirk.

"When did I say I liked you?"

Jack thought to the many times they'd spent together in offices, various properties they owned, hotel rooms, and the occasional Bently. He nodded and gave a knowing smile.

"You're right. I'm presumptuous."

Jack could have just about anything he wanted- a spontaneous parade that would block traffic or a shady election alike. But despite their murky history, it was no secret that his favorite carrot on a stick was Tommy Shelby.

Jack would be dead if the tables were turned, and Jack had done what Tommy did to him. An attempt at betrayal that was now years old but still fresh in Tommy's mind by the power of something akin to regret. But Jack was a different breed of man, one that Tommy yet didn't have a grasp on.

"If you hadn't tried to betray me, you wouldn't be the opportunist I thought you were. And that would have been disappointing," said Jack after revealing what he knew back then, which was everything.

He didn't ask Tommy for so much as an apology. Instead, he was here handling Tommy like he was made of glass. Tapping the iodine against thickened skin was almost too gentle. It was unnecessary. Still, Tommy sat quietly and took it because it was past 1 AM now, and he was tired, and he liked it. In the glow of the kitchen lights, Tommy let his shoulders relax and his mind wander.

He always figured he'd end up at Jack's actual apartment. Not a safe house or his third most frequented London flat, but his real home. Thinking back to when Jack first opened the door, Tommy wondered if he'd gotten one over on the man. Jack looked surprised for a moment before rolling his eyes, holding the back door open, and telling Tommy the entry cost was getting his wound dressed. It wasn't every day he could outsmart Jack. Tommy spent a considerable amount of time pinpointing the address he'd been quietly holding onto for the better part of a year. Using it now gave away some leverage, but it was worth it to see this side of Jack, calm with the haze of sleepiness inside an equally quiet house.

Were they opposites? He often felt a pang of dreadful isolation, even when his family was bickering around Arrow house's large dining table. But Jack seemed so content in his home alone, not a soul around. He'd even sent his small staff of three away on holiday for the week to avoid being asked if he wanted tea throughout the day because it drove him up a wall.

Would he like to be in a place like this, Tommy thought? Padding through the house barefoot, a warming drink in hand. The bigness that signified luxury traded in for the gift of holding a conversation with someone in the next room and smell what's cooking from his bed. And with Jack. That would be something.

"That's why you let your guard down, isn't it?" Jack brought Tommy's mind back to the present as he finally secured the bandage. He always did that. "You're not usually this careless. Were you thinking about absolution? Did you see her again?"

"You talk too much. And thinking you're always right's going to get you killed."

"No, it's not. Aren't I right anyway?"

"No."

Jack hummed, looking Tommy over for a moment. He leaned down, one hand grasping Tommy's wrist, letting his fingertips graze over the delicate skin. The other found its place on Tommy's thigh, only the smallest indention made from his fingertips.

Jack leaned into him, centimeters away from allowing their lips to brush. Instead, he inhaled softly. His nose grazed against Tommy's cheek, then his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone then up again. Tommy could feel his heart rate speed up. How could this youngin possibly get a rise out of him like this?

"You don't smell like opium anymore, Tommy. I'm proud of you," Jack spoke softly in his ear and let his thumb stroke the inside of Tommy's wrist. Those for words made Tommy's chest leap. "That means you aren't hallucinating her because you're high. And it seems like a little more than just residual love."

"You shouldn't talk about her that way. You of all people don't have the right."

A warning.

Jack pulled away far enough to see the glossy eyes of the man he let in. It was a strange feeling to be looked at with undeserved tenderness, Tommy thought. Moreso, it was unusual to be cared for.

Are you sure you vetted your new house staff properly?

Did you take precautions at your new factory?

That ciggy's not your lunch, is it?

Whether in meetings, in passing, or on purpose, there were always questions for Tommy. And when Jack felt Tommy exceeded his usual recklessness, he let him know.

And now, Jack was asking more questions. Prying. He tilted his head slightly. A warning from Tommy Shelby wasn't to be taken lightly, no matter who you were. Jack just happened to take the weight in stride.

"I shouldn't talk about Grace like what?" Jack asked.

"Like you know how she was in this world, and how she stays with me now. You don't know anything about it."

"Tommy, you know I'm thankful to her for taking care of you. I was at the wedding, wasn't I? No ill will. This isn't about her anyway; it's about you. Who else do you talk to about her? You just keep it in, don't you?"

"Gonna refer me to another head doctor? Don't waste your breath," Tommy scoffed.

"I'm going to refer you to the best psychiatrists I know as long as we both shall live. I'll make you sick of me."

"Too late."

"Well, I have nothing to lose then."

Jack straightened, reminding Tommy that he was being held only because he missed the feeling as Jack went to the liquor cabinet. He muttered something under his breath as he grabbed two glasses. That's right.

Jack was condescending, smug, even mean at times when it came to business. But when it came to Tommy, the one who sat shirtless in his kitchen with his shoulders relaxed and eyes carefully observing him, Jack had never spoken words too sharp at him. It was unnecessary, Tommy thought, because he could take it. But perhaps it was more of Jack not wanting to treat him in a way that Tommy had to brace himself to take.

"That'll help you sleep," Jack said, placing the drink in his hand. Tommy stood, gulping the small amount of brandy with ease.

"Where am I sleeping?"

"So, you want to stay?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "I can call you a cab."

"Come off it, it's unbecoming to not host a guest in a house like this," Tommy motioned around him. The phrasing made Jack's cheeks warm. Unbecoming, like some sort of debutante being scolded.

"Is the most becoming thing to do offering you my bed?" Jack leaned in close once again, giving Tommy his big eyes full of faux innocence. When he wasn't in his high-end suits or talking quite frankly, Jack had to capacity to look adorable.

"Aren't you being presumptuous?" Tommy asked. Of all the things he could have said, Tommy didn't expect that to be the one that made Jack reel back like he'd been hit. The young man moved to lean against the wall and pointed to the stairs.

"I have several guest rooms. I don't know if the beds are turned down or what that even means, but they're there."  

It was late, Tommy remembered, and Jack wasn't energized enough to keep the banter going on. Not like this. Jack took a sip of his drink and waited for Tommy. He was always waiting for Tommy.

"Is your bed turned down?" Tommy asked.

"I just told you I don't know what that means," Jack said, setting down his glass then stretching. He let his arms rest above his head. The motion revealed a toned stomach and just how low on the hips Jack's cotton bottoms actually hung.

"So you'll have to come to check for yourself, old man."

At nearly 2 AM, the only thing either of them had the energy to do was sleep. Any other revelations about Jack would have to wait until morning, and Tommy wasn't disappointed.

As he moved Jack's head from his chest and arm from around his waist, Tommy found that Jack was dead to the world when asleep. He was also prepared no matter what, evident by the new toothbrush and folded note sitting in an empty glass on the bathroom counter. The message read, 'Tommy, suit in closet, red hanger.' Did Jack know he'd wake up before him? Tommy scoffed but dressed anyway.

"What the hell are you still doing here?" Jack said through a yawn as he stumbled into the dining room at noon, where Tommy was sitting with a book and a coffee cup.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"It's fine. Taking all that smoke in your lungs is probably going to kill you," Jack said, motioning to the cigarette that was still smoking in the small ashtray on the table while he passed through to the kitchen.

"Taking its time, isn't it?"

"Don't say that. You're the only one making this fun."

"What?"

"This whole race to the top we've got going on in this city. Or the world, I guess."

"You don't have a legacy you want to leave behind when you grow old," Tommy asked. A moment later, Jack was standing in front of him with two water glasses and no willingness to accept no as an answer when he encouraged Tommy to drink.

"I'm not growing old. Someone'll get wise and kill me off before that."

Jack was as confident about this as everything else he said. He was more cynical than Tommy thought. He thought back to the one time he asked the man about the war and if he fought. Jack's answer always intrigued Tommy. Jack averted his gaze, and before quickly changing the subject, he said, "Just a bit." Whatever happened, Tommy figured it changed him.

Jack sat and made no mention of how the table's head was always his place, but Tommy could have it for now. He pulled a pastry from a dish sitting in the middle of the table and placed it in his mouth to free his hands. One picked up the paper that had clearly been read through, and one shamelessly commandeered Tommy's coffee cup. A bite of the buttery crust washed down by the coffee that made him grimace gave Jack the energy to try and read the paper. Tommy watched as the young man shuffled the pages, becoming more disgruntled by the minute.

"Why did you do this?" He asked Tommy, exasperated as he tried to find which loose insert continued the front-page story. Once he gathered it, he folded it together correctly and took a large bite of his pastry, only to be interrupted. Tommy tried to smother his growing smile and laugh to no avail. "What?"

"You're a brat."

Jack's eyes widened. He blinked for a moment, both because he never expected Tommy of all people to call him that and because he'd never seen the gangster laugh so heartily before. His mouth still full, Jack asked to clarify,

"A brat?"

"Through and through. Fussy from the moment you woke up," Tommy chuckled again. Heat crept up Jack's neck and face, but he let himself huff in amusement.

"I'm just particular."

It was a surprisingly eventful news week- horse races fixed to perfection and hollow speeches from political figures made to the public. And yet Jack found himself more interested in the unchanging man before him. He rested his chin in his palm and took Tommy in.

It was true that he hadn't expected Tommy to show up on his doorstep. But, if Tommy hadn't found his address by now, he would have been disappointed. Showing up like he did, however... Well, Jack had wanted to invite him on his own accord.

The whole thing with the Changrettas and ultimately Solomons was finally over, and Tommy could come back to him in London. They'd planned to meet on Tuesday, something about golf. Yet here, Tommy was instead, being somewhat of a nuisance. He hadn't asked if he could smoke in the house and didn't ask where the coffee was before he made. Not to mention, he handled his grouchiness with a bite of his own. A smile reached Jack's eyes and radiated through his body- this was an excellent second choice. It was like Tommy belonged there.

Almost.

"Try not to look so enamored; it's off-putting," Tommy spoke, not looking up from his book on... political influence? Something happened...

Jack reached out and placed a hand on Tommy's neck. His fingers moved up to feel the texture of his ridiculous hair cut, finally earning a glance. Jack could only imagine what Tommy would look like if he actually grew it out. The newspaper was an afterthought as Jack leaned over from his chair and pressed his lips against Tommy's. Soft, chapped, and chaste, but just what he needed all the same.

"Do I put you off?"

"All the time."

"Why are you wearing this?" Jack's hand moved to the collar of Tommy's shirt. Well, the shirt he got Tommy. The suit itself was expensive; a Belgian tailor with magic hands met Jack's requirements from the light gray color to the silver cufflinks.

"Didn't you tell me to?"

"Mm, I did. But if you're staying, then I'm just going to get you out of it."

"So straightforward."

"Says the man whose means of seduction involve alcohol, white lies about petrol, and some variation of 'let's fuck.'"

"Didn't say it was a bad thing."

"I'm making more coffee."

Jack had only placed his (formerly Tommy's) mug on the counter when the well-dressed man caged him in from behind.

"Are you not going to keep your promise?"

By nature, Jack was fearless in a way that surprised Tommy. If one believes death to be an inevitable luxury, there isn't a situation that could faze them much. In Jack's mind, either the consequence was easy, i.e., death, or it was difficult but something he'd get over at some point. Either outcome led the young man to do precisely what he wanted always.

The first time they kissed, they stood in Jack's office. Tommy was leaned against his desk, and Jack wasn't shy about leaning into him. Now in Jack's kitchen, he held that same energy. Turning in Tommy's arms, Jack wasted no time pressing their lips together again, with the older man meeting him halfway.

Tommy wasn't exactly sure how Jack managed. His kisses were dangerous- straightforward yet teasing, intense yet languid. It was helped only by the fact that they fit well together. Hands cupped a young man's face as a bold pajama-clad thigh moved between legs to press against the front of trousers. Thoughts of money were pushed aside as an expensive waistcoat was clenched between eager fingers, now a simple tool with a single-use: making them closer.

Even when he was dangerously close to light-headed, Jack considered this a worthy moment to push himself. The short breaths passed between kisses would have to suffice for now. For all Tommy called Jack bold, the young man couldn't help but let out a chuckle at how expertly dominant Tommy could be. A hand pressed to the small of his back, moving Jack and his eager thigh that brushed against Tommy's trousers closer while kissing down his neck.

"Enough," Jack breathed. Tommy looked up, unsure what he meant until Jack pushed their lips against each other again and let his hands rest on Tommy's belt. "Do you want a bed or a couch? Because I could have you right now, and I will if we go further."

The couch was closer.

Tommy's ability to concentrate was dwindling with each undone button. Open-mouthed kisses landed on every inch of available skin, making it a battle of moving fast enough to continue and not getting overwhelmed by so much contact after being touch starved. Maybe that was Jack's strategy. Sharp pain sinking into his shoulder made Tommy wince. It was a reminder that he'd been gone for a while. It was illogical and unnecessary to aim for exclusivity in whatever they called their relationship. Surprisingly, that's what made it all the more desperate.

"If I have a craving for Tommy Shelby, it doesn't matter who's around."

Jack ran a tongue over the indents of his canines and dragged it up his neck to stop and bite Tommy's earlobe.

"Hurry up," he breathed his command.

xx

"Did something happen?"

"When?"

"I don't know." Jack shrugged and tapped his cheek. Irritatingly patient, he was. They were in front of the fireplace in the den now, a fur blanket draped over them both as they laid in their underwear.  Early afternoon sun poured through the windows, illuminating the swirling smoke that left Tommy's lips.

"Then why ask?"

"Because I could know, but I always like to give you a chance to tell me voluntarily. It makes me feel less like you'd be lying to me every day if you could," Jack said, always casual, before stealing Tommy's cigarette. "Go ahead."

It wasn't that Tommy was interested in lying to the man all the time. In this instance, it was more that this was a problem Tommy got himself into and had to get himself out of. A problem that Jack had no doubt predicted like he predicted everything. Tommy thought back to his business with the Russians. Jack's first time in the Shelby Company Ltd. offices and Tommy's first time seeing the young man's face drop happened concurrently.

"Tommy," Jack almost sang his name, which only added to the tension. Tommy was a child about to be scolded for doing something he shouldn't have. "Am I too boring for you, Tommy? You had to go to the Russians?"

"A pest, always. Not boring though," Tommy said as he cleared his throat. He went to light his cigarette, giving it more concentration than required. Looking up, Tommy almost paused at the expression in Jack's eyes. There was no smile, genuine or otherwise, only the man he'd heard the haunting rumors about. What was the look he was getting? Annoyance? Disbelief? Frustration?

Instead of speaking on whatever it was, Jack placed a hand over his mouth and looked away. He swore under his breath and mumbled a few words before looking back. Maybe Jack should have told Tommy he was stupid and that the plan wasn't worth it. Doing something like this would be the nail in the coffin for any hopes of an utterly above-board business. But Jack, for once, chose his battle.

"That Tatiana Petrovna knows everything about you. The details of you being a widow, your brand of tobacco, the way you like to sin," Jack said instead. "And don't leave any weapons around. She's crazy."

Jack was good at being one step ahead or quickly recognizing when he wasn't and course correcting. But, though Tommy knew Jack wasn't a stranger to killing a man point-blank, there was still a grit that he was missing. Too eloquent and methodical to handle the Italians from New York. So he told Jack everything and how he was victorious using his Romani prowess. Jack wasn't the only strong one.

"Ah, so you're here because Polly threatened to lock you out of the safes again if you didn't take a holiday," Jack mused. That was his real question from earlier. Why the hell are you still here?

"Something like that." Tommy nodded.

"What are you going to do when you start shaking again? And hearing things?" Jack asked, offering the cigarette to its original owner.

"I'll deal with it if it happens, and it might. Nothing gin can't fix," Tommy said. He reached for the cigarette, only for it to be snatched away and tossed into the flames.

"That was a test. You failed." Jack rolled to his side, propping himself up on his forearm.

"I'm not sick, hm? I've shut the door on the war. I'm not Arthur. I can manage." Tommy could feel himself warming with anger, no, defensiveness at the idea that everything he did was to be questioned.

"I'm not letting you run around here like a dog catching rabies."

"You don't have a say in as much as you think you do," Tommy reminded him. Jack smiled in response, his eyes lightening up. He shifted his fingers then brought them to Tommy's temple in the shape of a gun.

"Go to a doctor, or I'll kill you myself. Bang."

He made a shooting motion then pulled his hand away, blowing imaginary smoke from his fingers. Tommy wondered if Jack ever made jokes. No matter his tone of voice, he always said what he meant and meant what he said. There was no getting out of this.

"What, are you my father now?

"Would you like that?"

"Christ,"

"Not quite him, either."

--

Tommy Tag: @soleil-dor;  @amysteryspot​; @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Peaky Blinders Tag List: @lilymurphy03

[agent-cupcake]

Cupcake!! Do you listen to music while writing? If yes what kind?

Yes! I absolutely do! I really love music, I’d say it’s secondary to literature as far as my choice of creative input so this is also just my personal recommendations regarding music as a whole with explanations and unwanted commentary because I’m dumb and this is one of my favorite things to talk about.

Firstly, my ongoing(ish) story Beastie and the Bard is musically driven so here are some songs I have on my playlist for that. I tend towards pieces that are melancholy but melodic. Entrancing, perhaps.

Lolita by Ennio Morricone - Contextually, I realize this is a bizarre (even tone deaf) pick given the source material, but... Whatever. This song, in general, just reminds me of Dimitri. Although a heavy, militaristic march might suit him better, the heart rending sound of this song just works for me when I think of him. The piano sets the tone immediately, lingering on some notes in a wistful, sad way. And it is sad, the cello and flute join in to make that clear. But, at a certain point, the instruments begin to dance around together, opening up and almost seeming like they want to resolve the song and create something happier, or at least something bittersweet, only to be drawn back into the uneasy tragedy of the main motif. I dunno, for me, it just absolutely aches like betrayal. 

Shallan’s Lullaby by treefin / Black Piper - This music box rendition of Shallan’s Lullaby from Stormlight was the melodic inspiration for my bootleg lullaby that reader writes for Dimitri (perhaps not the first part as much as the way it shifts around 1:07). It’s haunting.

Isabella’s Lullaby from The Promised Neverland - Pretty self explanatory, I think. This one hits the sweet spot of beautiful and sad, from the harp to the vocals it just fits. 

Howl’s Moving Castle Merry Go Round of Life original and the cover by the Grissini Project - Both versions are incredibly special pieces of music and I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard this theme before, very good for the more whimsical parts of the story (not that there’s gonna be any more of that).

Shadows of the Lowlands from Xenoblade 2 - While I’m about to recommend this entire soundtrack, this vocal piece is stunning. This guy’s vocals, no joke, sound like a Tolkien Elf. We Are the Chosen Ones is done by the same vocal group and soloist so it’s also making this list although the tone is def a bit different. 

Okay now I’m just gonna point out my favorite soundtracks. For all of these, I have COMPLETELY LEGALLY downloaded most of these from other sites, I’m linking youtube just based on superficial searches to hopefully give you a taste and maybe encourage you to NOT BREAK THE LAW and acquire these soundtracks on your own

Fire Emblem Three Houses - This is obvious and I’m sure you’ve all heard it, but go have a listen if you haven’t. but first, is anyone else disappointed about the Three Houses official release soundtrack? Considering the delay I guess I kinda expected more. Granted, the soundtrack IS phenomenal. Not so much in its entirety, which is emblematic of the game as a whole in some ways, but the set pieces? Unforgettable. This soundtrack is a case study in how powerful a small pool of musical motifs and set-up/pay-offs can be. The little promise of God Shattering Star at the very beginning of the game, Those Who Sow Darkness giving a taste of Shambhala, and then the use of the main melodies of Season of Warfare (Main Theme) and Song of the Nabateans. For the most part, both melodies are used in dramatic songs, creating this unbreakable musical connection between Edelgard and Byleth. Or, if you think about it, Edelgard and the Rhea. For example: the thunder version of Funeral of Flowers doesn’t have the game’s theme, but the rain version does (those two songs were WRITTEN to be layered I stg). And then there’s that somewhat bastardized version of the main theme in At What Cost, highlighting the intended twisting of the usual heroic take on that melody. I do have a potentially unpopular opinion, however. The Apex of the World is boring and tonally dissonant with the final battle in Azure Moon. A lot of people really like Edelgard-Dimitri likes Edelgard! There’s very little heroism in that mission, at least to me, and a song like At What Cost would have fit SO MUCH BETTER. I mean, that is also Edelgard’s theme so hearing that being twisted up into this decidedly more dark song would be thematically appropriate to her ultimate choice. The title also just seems like it suits her and Dimitri. Edelgard claims that she has weighed the cost of war, she believes she is capable of taking on the cost of victory without really knowing what it would be. Dimitri's whole story was him trying to find revenge no mater what the cost and now that he has it, he’s fully understanding what it will cost him. I understand why they would use the traditional hero song to cap the route, but it seems weird that they’d be willing to subvert so many other aspects of tradition while holding to that for a song that, in my opinion, is the least interesting of all the final battle songs. As you can probably tell, At What Cost is a song that is very tonally inspiring to me. I also love Funeral of Flowers (Thunder and Rain separately and layered together), The Long Road, and Roar of Dominion for getting hyped to write.

Final Fantasy VII Remake - Ever since I got this soundtrack, I’ve been addicted. I really don’t have much to say on this one other than just to recommend you give it a listen if you’re even passingly interested in orchestral video game music. There’s some misses for me (specifically the Wall Market stuff and anything that gets into the weird electric guitar/techno stuff) but it’s overwhelmingly fantastic and can work for active listening music and for background music while you write. I’d follow up recommend you get ahold of the Acoustic Arrangements soundtrack. I can’t link you on this one but it’s worth the extra legwork to procure it COMPLETELY LEGALLY. 

Final Fantasy Distant Worlds - I was actually able to see the Distant World’s tour when it swept through Houston and at that point I had no idea what the fuck a Final Fantasy was. At all. However, seeing One Winged Angel live is not something I will ever forget. Ever. This soundtrack is great for some background listening and although it is often too upbeat for my usual tastes, it’s good when I need something easier. Okay. Real talk. I was about to recommend to you a bunch of FFXIV music (the MMO), choice selections from FFXV, and try and dig up some songs that are only available in live recordings. If you like Final Fantasy music, I recommend all of these things. The games are a clusterfuck but the music is even moreso and it’s worth your time if you like this kind of thing.

Xenoblade 2 - See? Told you I was gonna recommend this. Actually, ranking wise, I would say that I like it more than Final Fantasy. This soundtrack is magical. I cannot stress that enough, there is a level of whimsy and beauty that went into this soundtrack that all at once draws upon the genre and being it’s own thing. Like, I get it, there’s a lot of misses. The electric guitar is jarring and annoying. Listen to Sea of Clouds, like, actually listen to it. Listen to Desolation. Pay attention to the motif used in connection with Elysium and then the other songs that its used in. The Power of Jin. This is a sometimes sad but mostly beautiful and whimsical soundtrack that is good for listening and for using as background music. 

Xenoblade 1 - I don’t have as much to say about this one, I don’t feel as if it’s as emotionally resonant as my other recommendations. BUT it is gorgeous. The area themes are wonderful and perfect for setting tone. 

Hollow Knight - Hollow Knight’s soundtrack takes one step back from the drama of the others and revels in its depressive simplicity. There are songs with a more cheerful tone, and the magical whimsy of Xenoblade 2 is very much brought to life in many of the pieces, but for the most part the soundtrack is as gorgeously melancholy as the game itself. One of my favorite things in music is when songs are given new life through new context and the White Palace --> Pale Court transition is haunting. 

Diabolik Lovers - OKAY I KNOW I KNOW hear me out. This soundtrack has no right to be as gorgeous, emotional, or quality as it is. This song, Lovers, is the younger sibling of Lolita’s theme, okay? Thematically, that’s kinda hilarious, but I mean it. If you like that song, give a few of the songs from this OST a chance.

BioShock, BioShock 2, and BioShock Infinite - BioShock 1&2 are different from Infinite. A lot more grungy, a lot more angry and discordant, the strings buzz and there’s a lot more horror to it all. Infinite, on the other hand, is very pretty. Infinite’s soundtrack is about the characters and their journey and feelings. The first two game’s soundtracks are about the ruined city of Rapture. It depends on what you’re in the mood for. I write using Infinite’s music more often, but there’s pieces in the first two that capture this empty, yearning feeling that is good for setting mood.

Pathologic - “Half Life’s soundtrack directed by Genghis Khan.” It’s bizarre. It’s grungy. 

Void (Typrop) - Basically the same deal. I dunno man, I like being inspired by horror.

Outlast - It’s an orchestral horror game soundtrack. Like the game itself, there’s a lot of horror movie inspiration. 

Dishonored 1 and Dishonored 2 - This is mostly background music. It’s a stealth game so it’s kinda uneasy, but I think there’s something really unique. Maybe the instruments? There’s a lot of weird sounds used. 

Higurashi - This is a compilation of horror themed songs from the anime soundtrack, but the VN soundtrack and the non-horror stuff is pretty good, too. Michishirube is my favorite.

Madoka Magica Rebellion - The main anime soundtrack is gorgeous. The bells, the strings, the drama... I’m recommending Rebellion specifically because it’s the more cohesive and story-driven soundtrack. This one is not as horror-ish and weird than the others, it is very beautiful and nice to listen to. Sad, in some parts, too. 

Code Geass and Resurrection - Brass? Got it. Dramatic strings? Got it. Bombastic set piece songs? Triple got it. This soundtrack oozes style. In some ways, that makes it not good for writing, but in others it can. Depends on what you’re writing. I think the melodrama can be incredibly useful for getting my mind in that frenzy state. 

Okay I’m done. Thank you for bearing with me. 

If we’re talking what songs inspire specific things, the Ferdinand piece was accompanied by a lot of the Diabolik Lovers soundtrack and Final Fantasy. When I wrote my sad Felix piece, it was all about Hollow Knight with a spot of Bloodborne and Dark Souls.  

[puckyeahobx]

in the middle of the party b*tch get off of me

a/n: here’s some jj for you guys....this is a personal favorite of mine and very much so inspired by the one tik tok he posted where he had handcuffs O.o

summary: y/n and jj go to college together and celebrate halloween at his frat house <3 sexiness ensues

warnings: nsfw duh 

It wasn’t that you thought JJ was dumb, but it was moreso that you thought JJ was focused on other things like fixing cars, finding the best weed in a fifty mile radius, and taking care of his friends. His criminal record also didn’t necessarily lend itself to an academic lifestyle either, now that you thought about it...but JJ had never ceased to amaze you as long as you had known him, so I guess you really should not have been shocked when he showed up on your doorstep with an acceptance letter to North Carolina State. He said it had nothing to do with you thinking of going there too, but you knew better. 

High school ending had really been freaking him out even if he had tried not to show it. His friends were the one thing that had kept him grounded all of these years and he wasn’t sure what would become of him once you all went your separate ways. Luckily, though, you ended up choosing NC State. They had the best program for your major out of everywhere you applied and had offered you a decent chunk of cash. It had nothing to do with JJ going there...obviously. 

Kie was at UNC Chapel Hill, Pope at Duke, and John B was on a gap year, trying to figure out what the hell he wanted to do, which left you and JJ to your own devices your freshman year. It was a big school and you both found groups of people you liked, JJ with his frat brothers (also a huge shock to you, but the guys in his frat were actually really cool and pretty pogue-like, he wouldn't be caught dead in a kook infested frat) and fellow social services majors, you with your roommates and friends from classes, but you two always ended up spending the most time with each other anyway. It didn’t take very long into your freshman year to realize that old habits really do die hard. Whether it was walking to class together, eating in the dining hall, studying in the library, you guys were always together. Sometimes your new friends joined you guys, but more often than not when you weren’t in your dorms you were alone together. This wasn’t an issue for you, of course. Just like the rest of the world, you had been into JJ since you first met him. And lately, through all the alone time and leaning on each other, it became clear that he might maybe feel the same way.

It was the small things like how his hand rested on your back when he walked up behind you or when his arm fell on your shoulders when you sat on your shitty dorm futon together or how anytime one of his friends flirted with you in front of you his jaw clenched and he suddenly was at a loss for his usual sarcastic banter. But you were getting ahead of yourself, right? You two were each other’s rocks at this time. It was probably all platonic like it had always been. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t push the limits of friendship and have a little fun from time to time, did it? No, no it didn’t. So when Halloween came creeping around the corner, you made sure you had your fun.

JJ’s frat was obviously throwing a party in celebration of the holiday, because if there’s one thing frat guys love it’s alcohol and almost-naked girls - the true nature of Halloween. It was a costume party but that was pretty much code for “Show as much skin as possible”, so you went for the classic angel look. A white bra, a white mini skirt you found at the back of your friend’s closet, and Party City wings. It was truly innovative. You tried to make it look like you actually tried by hot gluing some rhinestones on your bra and doing your hair and makeup all ethereal and sexy, but you knew that as soon as you stepped into that disgusting, sweaty frat house you would somehow go from an 11 to a solid 7 and that was just something you were going to have to be ok with. It was always dark anyway.

You didn’t arrive at the party until a little after ten because your friend went a little too hard at the pregame and had already vomited all over her devil lingerie, so you all had to deal with that mess before tucking her into bed and escaping out the door before things could get worse. But after many texts and snaps from JJ harassing you for keeping him waiting, you were finally there and your stomach was flipping with nerves. JJ refused to reveal what he was dressed up as, saying it was a surprise, and you just couldn’t wait to see him as someone else, hoping he’d see you as someone else tonight too. Someone he wanted to be with. 

The music was heard from the front lawn as you stepped out of the uber and up the steps, waving to the pledge from your Comp 101 class, thankful that JJ had somehow weaseled out of his pledge duties for the night. Once you stepped inside you and your friends immediately scoped out your surroundings. There was a party going on in the main entrance and living room, but there was also lights and music coming from the basement, meaning JJ could literally be anywhere. Luckily, the ratio of guys to girls was positively halting so being able to single out a 6 foot man amongst a sea of girls shouldn’t be that hard.

And then, you saw him.

You almost fell over at the look of him. You could tell he had already started drinking and was a little sweaty by the sheen covering his face and the way his hair was standing up on its own, like it always did after he ran his hands through it. He was leaning against the wall, PBR in hand, assessing the crowd and laughing with the guy on his left. Your eyes travelled down from his hair and glowing skin to his neck and chest, both completely uncovered. He was in a navy button up that was incredibly tight around his biceps but only buttoned on the bottom two buttons. A gold badge was pinned over his right breast, and then it dawned on you. 

“You’re a fucking cop!” You punched his arm as you snuck up on him.

Startled and rubbing his arm, he softened when he saw who had just assaulted him. “Never thought you’d see the day, huh?”

“What happened to ACAB? Looks like someone’s all talk…”

He scoffed and threw his arm around your shoulder, walking with you towards the bar, “It’s called irony sweetheart. I thought a genius like you would understand that?”

You rolled your eyes and shook his arm off you, laughing at his remark (and trying to not focus on the “sweetheart” of it all), “So, what branch of the police force is it that allows their officers to walk around half naked?” You teased as you walked up to the bar, asking the frat brother in nothing but a cowboy hat and too short cut off jean shorts for a cup of whatever the drink was tonight. 

“Um the one with all the sexy stripper cops. They even gave me these,” You turn back around with your drink against your lips and you nearly spat it out when you saw what he was talking about. He had a pair of what looked like actual handcuffs dangling off his pointer finger, “Fully functional,” he finished with a wink.

You gulped and hoped he didn’t notice, “Very impressive, does the rest of the force know about the stash of weed in the loose floorboard in your dorm room?”

His face, and the handcuffs, fell. “You’re no fun, Y/N. It’s Halloween! You can be anything you want! And tonight, I’m the only cop that isn’t a bastard.”

You laughed at his mini outburst and put your hand on his cheek sweetly, still laughing. “You’re right I’m sorry. You make a very non-bastard cop. It suits you.”

“I always have looked good in blue.”

Lightly smacking him you rolled your eyes again and brought your hand back to your cup, looking at him as you took a big drink. He was looking directly back at you. You finished off the cup and tossed it at the overflowing trash can, “Let’s dance. I love this song.” This was a lie, you had never heard this song before in your life, but you just wanted an excuse to grab his hand and drag him on the dance floor. 

Everyone around you was dancing ass to dick, going absolutely stupid in a true intoxicated fashion, but you weren’t nearly drunk enough for that yet. So, instead, you and JJ did what you always did was just jump and scream at each other, throwing in some limb flailing every now and then. If you were really lucky, he would throw in the sprinkler every now and then. This was all fine and dandy, a couple of songs deep, until you felt your elbow accidentally collide with something rock hard, immediately followed by something wet splashing all over your back.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry-” you said, spinning around, mortified. You were met with the biggest man you had ever seen in your life who did not look very happy to see you looking back at him. But, considering his eyes looked glazed over, you figured that had less to do with you and more to do with the fact that he was probably off something far out of your league. 

“Fucking watch where you’re going next time,” He gruffed at you as he jerked the arm you had hit away.

You were stunned by how aggressive he was, “I’m- I’m sor-”

But before you could stutter out an apology, JJ was pushing you behind him, puffing his chest out as he faced the roided-out gentleman giving you a death glare. “What the fuck did you just say to her?”

“She spilled my drink,” The giant said as if you had just murdered his dog.

“Yeah and this is a frat house, go turn on the faucet in the sink and I’m sure Captain Morgan will come out,” spat JJ.

Sasquatch scoffed and shook his head at JJ, “Just keep a better handle on your bitch, pledge. I don’t need some slut wasting all of our alc.”

“You son of a bitch.” You saw JJ’s arm wind back, his fist clenched ready to swing.

“JJ, no!” You grabbed his arm before he could do something seriously idiotic and didn’t let go of it until you had made your way off the dance floor and into the backyard. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to throw a punch at that guy?! He looked like he eats whole goats for breakfast!”

His hands were running through his hair and he was pacing. You could tell he was trying not to punch the siding of the house - you had seen him worked up like this countless times over your near lifelong friendship. Loyalty was both his greatest strength as well as his greatest curse. “He called you a bitch, Y/N! And a slut! In the same breath!”

Looking at him now, his hair all messed up, his shirt still unbuttoned, and face as emotional as ever, you had never been more attracted to him. You closed the gap between the two of you and grabbed his face between your hands, “Thank you for trying to protect me, but I’d much rather be a bitch and a slut if it meant you weren’t pulverized by Bigfoot.”

At the feeling of your touch, his whole demeanor changed. You saw him swallow and take a breath, “Yeah, uh, well. You know. I’ll always protect you, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for, ya know. I live to serve and protect you know,” chuckling half-heartedly as he tapped the badge on his chest. 

You tried to laugh along with him, but you were too busy staring from his lips to his eyes and focusing on the dizzying feeling of being so close to him. He made no effort to move out of your personal space and having him here, his back against the siding of the house, your hands on his strong jaw, you felt like maybe now was the time to bring up what you had been feeling these last couple of months. But before you could open your mouth to spill your guts, something in him snapped and he sprung forward at you. 

Suddenly, your hands were in his hair and his hands were on your waist and now you were the one with your back against the giant brick building, the bricks scratching deliciously against your exposed skin. You whined against his lips as he pressed against you, the sound apparently shocking him out of his trance because just as suddenly as it had started, he was pulling away, leaving you completely dazed, lips still half puckered as your eyes fluttered open. 

He was back to pacing, not daring to look at you. “God that was fucking stupid, I’m so sorry Y/N. You were just yelled at by some heavyweight douchebag and all I could do was not throw a punch and then I just had to go and kiss you like a fucking jackass,” he paused his pacing and looked at you, his face all screwed up with guilt, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

For a moment you considered the situation and didn’t move a muscle or say a word but then you just laughed. An eruption of manic giggles fell from your lips as you watched him go from guilt to confusion. “You’re a real fucking idiot you know that,” you managed to spit out between laughs.

“I mean, yeah, jackass, idiot...they’re one in the same I guess,” he seemed hurt by your words so you stepped closer to him again.

“No, God, shut up. You’re not a jackass. But you are an idiot. I don’t care that you kissed me,” you paused, “That’s not true. I care a lot, actually, because I loved it and I wish you wouldn’t have stopped because I was really starting to get into it after the, like, 12 longest, most torturous years of build up ever.”

He couldn’t believe the words you were saying, “Wait...so you- you like me?”

“What, you think I come to the frat parties for the mystery booze and trap music?”

Now it was his turn to laugh, his face completely breaking open in elation, “And to think I just assumed you were a party girl...turns out I’m just irresistible.”

“Oh shut up,” you sighed as you slammed your mouth against his again, pulling him down to your height. Once again his hands found their firm grip on your hips, holding on for dear life. 

And then he pulled away again.

“Stop fucking doing that. Kiss now talk later,” you tried to lean back in.

“No, uh, I just,” he cleared his throat, “I was just wondering if you wanted to take this inside maybe?”

You smiled up at him before kissing up his neck and whispering in his ear, “Whatever you want.”

He shivered and groaned, breaking away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you back inside. You weren’t sure where he was taking you because, since he was a freshman, he didn’t live at the frat house or anything so it’s not like he had a bedroom. Not that it mattered. He could take you to a damn broom closet for all you cared. But he didn’t take you to a closet or even a vacant bathroom. You maneuvered around the sweaty crowd of people until you were back at the front of the house but this time going up the staircase where all the upperclassmen lived. 

“JJ what are we doing up here…” You asked with a slight edge of concern in your voice. 

His face was full of mischief as he looked back at you, smirk plastered across his lips. “Don’t worry about it baby, I’m just trying to find us somewhere a little more comfortable.” And with a wink, he was turning the knob on a door that definitely didn’t belong to him.

As far as frat boys went, you imagined this was a relatively well kept room. There were still some pizza boxes stacked on top of the desk and clothes spilling out of the closet but, all in all, it didn’t look infested or anything. 

“JJ, who’s room is this?” You asked as you saw him lock the door behind you. 

“Bigfoot’s,” he said with that same smirk on his face, complete and total pride practically bursting his seams. 

Your mouth dropped as you looked at him incredulously. JJ was always one for pranks and revenge, but this floored you. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” You said in awe as he made his way back over to you.

“Maybe, but damn. What a way to go.” 

Then he was kissing you once more, but this time he had guided you back towards the bed and you were laying underneath him, his body hot and hard against yours, making it hard to breathe. His hands ventured from your hips to your hair and back down again, making sure to give your tits a squeeze on the way back down, pushing them back behind you to guide your ass up so he could get as close to you as possible. You were back to your gasping and whining as you felt the effect you had had on him through his pants, grinding against him in desperation. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking sexy, Y/N,” he moaned against your neck, leaving the slightest of nips along your jaw between kisses. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this or how many times I’ve thought of you exactly like this.”

“You can have me anyway you want. I’m yours,” You weren’t really thinking about what you were saying before the words left your mouth, but it didn’t make them any less true. 

He growled against your neck and grabbed you again, scooting you up towards the top of the mattress. His hands found yours wrapped around his neck and took them in his hands, pushing them above your head. 

“Anyway I want, huh?” He was sitting on his heels, looking down at you with hooded eyes. All you could do was nod. “Well, I do have these handcuffs, and it’d be a shame for them to go to waste.” You moaned at the implication and watched him unhook them from his shorts and attached them to your wrists, wrapping them around a bar of the headboard. “Told you they were fully functional,” he ended with a wink.

All you could do was whimper as he bent back down to kiss your lips and then your neck, taking a pit stop at your chest to move the cups of your bra aside enough for him to give plenty of kisses there as well, until he was finally trailing his tongue down your stomach. He looked up at you as he reached the waistband of your skirt. You nodded, “Please,” not even being mentally present enough to care about how desperate you sounded. 

“So polite,” he muttered as he pulled your skirt and panties down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare to him. “So damn beautiful.”

Then he was on you like a starved man. JJ had always been popular amongst the ladies on the island and while you always assumed his looks and bad boy nature had been enough to seal the deal, you now know why they kept coming back. He was a fucking machine. Between the way his fingers fucked you skillfully, knowing exactly where your g-spot was on the first try, and the masterful way he used his tongue on your clit, it was no wonder he had a body count in the double digits. You felt yourself catapult towards the finish line at an embarrassing speed. All you wanted as to grab onto his hair and grind yourself against his face. You were so close when he took his mouth off you and replaced it with his thumb, his fingers keeping their pace inside of you.

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Maybe he’ll hear you from downstairs. He told me to control my bitch but I’m not quite sure this was what he meant.” He crawled back up your body, one hand bracing himself beside your face and the other inching you closer and closer with every second, “You look so fucking pretty, getting fucked by my fingers, Y/N. You’re so wet for me already and I know you want to cum. So just do it baby, cum for me.” You did not need to be told twice because suddenly your legs were clamped shut, and your body was arching so far off the bed that your wrists felt like they might break against the handcuffs. He kissed your neck as you came down, whispering sweet little praises in your ear. “That was so hot.” You smiled weakly as he looked at you from above.

“Please let me touch you,” You whined as you struggled against the handcuffs, desperate to get your hands on him. 

“God, yes, be my guest,” He laughed as he went to undo your handcuffs, kissing your wrists as he pulled them away. “Sorry, I guess I didn’t think about how these might hurt.”

“It was worth it,” You smirked as you grabbed his face, pulling him down to kiss you and then immediately pushing him onto his back. 

You mimicked his style from earlier, starting with the lips and moving down the neck before making your way slowly towards the waistband of his shorts. You unzipped his shorts as his hands went to your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. You both worked together to shimmy off his bottoms until you were face to face with him.

Immediately, you took him into your hand and marveled at the size of him and the way he instantly moaned and threw his hand back as you started to pump him. Needing more of those noises, you wasted no time in licking up his length and taking him into your mouth. He helped you set a pace by guiding your head with his hand in your hair, profanities falling out of his mouth. “You take my cock so good, baby. Your pretty fucking lips...driving me fucking crazy…”

He started shallowly pumping into your mouth before pulling out just when you felt like you were starting to get good. “You’re fucking amazing princess, but unless you don’t want me to fuck you we’re gonna have to try that again some other time.”

You moved your way back up his body, this time fully straddling him. “I’m an angel, not a princess.”

Smirking yet again, he grabbed your hips and grinded you against the length of him, “Sorry, but last time I checked angels don’t spend a lot of time taking dick in their mouths.”

“Well in that case I can just head out if you want me too-”

He flipped you over again before you could finish your teasing, “You’re not going anywhere.” And then his lips were back on you and his hands were everywhere all at once, guiding your legs to take their place at the side of his waist. Before long he was lining himself up at your entrance, teasing you against your clit, before he finally plunged into you hard and fast. You were still so worked out from his previous work that you didn’t need time to adjust, instead just able to focus on the feeling of him filling you completely. Before long you had your legs stretched over his shoulders, giving him even better access inside of you, making you scream his name over and over again as you felt yourself start to clench and flutter. 

“Your pussy is so fucking amazing, Y/N. So wet and tight for me. God you take it so good,” His eyes were screwed shut as he was trying so hard to focus on making you finish before he lost it. “Such a good girl for me, sucking my dick and fucking me like that. Oh, fuck.”

He leaned back, holding your legs in front of him, and started pounding you even harder. You grabbed a hold of the sheets next to you and screamed so hard your voice cracked in your throat as you came for the second time. You barely noticed him finishing after you, too far gone in your own bliss. When your soul came back to your body he was falling onto the mattress beside you and wrapping you up in his arms, both of you still panting. 

His hands found your hair as you rested your cheek against his chest, his heartbeat hard and loud in your ears. He lent down to kiss the crown of your head and he sighed against it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit is right,” You laughed as you rested your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “Well that was fun.”

“I don’t think fun really begins to describe it. I’d go with life changing.”

“Life changing? Wow, I’m honored. I think we should write Bigfoot a thank you letter for making this happen.”

JJ scoffed, “Pssh that guy? No thank you. No one gets to call my girl a slut and get a damn thank you note out of it. I don’t care how good the sex is after.”

You smile slightly and your voice softens, “Your girl?”

He looks down at you with a smile mirroring yours, his one little dimple making your stomach do backflips and his fingers tracing shapes on your back, “I mean yeah, I guess beating around the bush is a lost cause at this point. Is that ok with you?”

You laid your head back on his chest, reveling in the gentle way his fingertips were barely touching you, “That’s more than ok.”

Trying not to seem overeager he cleared his throat, “Cool.”

Laughing to yourself you responded, “Yeah. Cool.”

Unable to help himself he scooped you up in his arms tighter and pulled you even closer, his head resting in your neck trying to hide his smile. Your fingers danced along his scalp and you smiled to yourself. Yeah, you could get used to this.

[thejollyroger-writer]

To Serve and Protect - Chapter 2

SUMMARY: Detective Killian Jones has been investigating a stalker-turned-murderer for months by the time he goes home from the bar with Emma Swan. But when he thinks he sees the very man in question outside her apartment, can he separate his feelings for her and his need to keep her safe?

hey, did you guys realize today is Monday? because I totally didn’t. again, I’m absolutely INSPIRED by your responses to this. as a warning, next week’s chapter isn’t quite ready yet, and next week is finals week, 

TRIGGERS: well, this is a fic about a serial killer. mentions of violence and death, with some physical violence/whump coming a bit later. as always, if you need me to discuss this further for you to be comfortable, message me. -- rated teen for later chapters

Prologue // Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 on AO3 

“Oh, this is too good,” he says out loud, the lit end of his cigarette bobbing with the movement of his lips. And then he smiles, for what feels like the first time in years, watching as the dark-haired detective wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Everything is starting to come together nicely.” 

He takes a long drag of the cigarette, watching it light up in his reflection in the window, and flicks the ashes onto the floor beside him. It’s something the boss would yell at him about in his own quarters, he knows, but the empty apartment is far from the lavish house perched at the top of the hill. But he’ll only be here for as long as it takes to complete the Master Plan, which — he huffs out a laugh, an eerie, emotionless sound — is taking shape much faster than he anticipated. 

——— 

What the hell kind of mess did you get yourself into this time? she asks herself, and she knows that she should be more worried about the damn stalker that she apparently has, but that’s not even what she finds herself focusing on. Instead, somewhere far beyond the blank lines of the legal pad on her desk, Emma sees Killian — Detective Jones — his leather jacket and his unnervingly blue eyes and his damn desire to be with her, to protect her. Part of her wishes, almost, that she hadn’t met him at the bar that night, that she hadn’t connected with him so emphatically, or at least that she hadn’t invited him back to her apartment. That she hadn’t learned about the stalker. She almost wishes she could go back to two days ago — less than, really — her life was much simpler, and the biggest problem she had was Mayor Mills requesting files from her office. 

“Emma?” Ariel calls, walking up to the open door of their shared office and peering around the corner, finding Emma staring intently at an empty page of a legal pad with her head propped up on her fist. When Emma still doesn’t answer — just as she didn’t the first two times she tried to call her name from down the hall — Ariel turns the corner completely, propping herself against the doorframe, and tries again, cupping her hands around her mouth in a makeshift megaphone. “Earth to Emma Swan, is anybody home?” 

Finally, Emma looks up from the blank page, meeting the eyes of her office mate. “What? Do you need something?” 

Ariel half-laughs, though still worried about her friend, and walks into the office. “Emma, I’ve called your name, like, six times,” she says, a slight exaggeration, though those are a normal part of her personality. But, leaning on the edge of Emma’s desk, the smile that usually graces her face disappears. “Are you alright? You just seem really out of it today.” 

Emma sighs, dropping her pen on the legal pad so she can hold her head in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head, but refusing to look up at her friend. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.” 

“Anything you want to talk about?” Ariel asks, her voice soft. 

Yes, Emma’s inner voice screams, There’s so much. But instead, she shakes her head again, then crosses her arms on the desk and rests her forehead against them. “No, I’m just— I just need to find something to distract myself from it, to be honest.”

“Well,” Ariel says, and Emma can hear the smile in her voice before she picks her head up off the desk. “I have some good news for you, then, because Zelena just gave us a whole list of things to do for this new case.”

 ------

“For the record, Jones, I don’t think this is a good idea.” Graham, the sheriff, is sitting on the edge of his desk, the office door closing the two of them from the rest of the small precinct building. 

“Noted,” he comments, leaning back in his chair and resting his boots on the edge of Graham’s desk. The sheriff glares down at them, but makes no move to remove them himself, nor does he ask Killian to do it. 

A beat passes between them. Graham cards his fingers through his hair. Killian throws a rubber band ball in the air and catches it in his prosthetic. 

“Tell me again what happened,” he asks, and Killian rolls his eyes, but tells the story again. 

“I met her at the bar last night. I bought her a drink, we started talking, you know how that all works.” Graham hums in agreement. “I went to walk her home, and I noticed him standing across the street from her apartment. She invited me up, and I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to tell her what I thought she needed to know.”

Graham hops off the edge of his desk and begins pacing in the space between it and the chairs, but with Killian’s feet still propped up on the desk, he can only take three steps in each direction. 

“And you think the best thing to do about this is continue to spend time with her so you can catch this bastard before he has a chance to do anything?”

“Yes,” Killian responds simply, his eyebrows accentuating the word. 

He throws the ball up in the air and catches it again.

“Can’t we just… I don’t know, post a car outside her place? Send someone to watch him? Wouldn’t that make more sense?”

“Graham, this man has only killed his victims after they noticed him and came to us, remember? If he sees someone patrolling her apartment, or even waiting around it, he might get spooked and act faster. Emma works at the law firm across the street from here, so I can pick her up after work and spend nights with her without anything seeming off, especially since he saw me go home with her last night.”

“Wait.” When Graham turns on his heel to face Killian, his eyebrows make a sharp ‘v’ across his forehead. “Emma… Swan? David Nolan’s foster sister?”

“Foster sister,” he says, mostly to himself as he runs his thumb against his bottom lip, since it answers quite a few questions that had come to him since he left her apartment earlier that morning. “That explains the different last names.” Now it is his turn to snap his eyes to Graham. “I always forget that you know David.”

“Yes, he and I were deployed together, but you know that. However, you may not know that I dated Swan briefly a few years back."

Killian tosses the ball up in the air, but it falls to the floor and bounces a few times before Graham stops it beneath his boot. 

If Graham had to describe the emotion that crosses Killian's face, he would name no less than six: surprise, embarrassment, confusion, discomfort, worry, shock. 

“You… what?”

Nodding, he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, staring at the floor again. “Yeah, when I— not long after David and I got back from our tour and I moved to Storybrooke, she and I went on a few dates. Nothing big came of it, obviously, but…” He knocks his fists together in front of him, then leans down to pick up the rubber band ball, turning to Killian to hand it to him. “Yeah.”

A beat passes between them. 

Killian throws the rubber band ball in the air, catches it. 

“And you can keep them separate? Business and pleasure?” Graham turns to him, but his eyes are fixed on the rubber band ball in his hand, and he watches as he grinds his jaw together. 

“This isn’t about my pleasure, this is about Miss Swan’s safety.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question, Jones.” 

His eyes snap to Graham’s, somehow more grey than blue, and when he replies, Graham is almost entirely sure he has never heard more venom in his voice. “Whether you believe me or not, sheriff, I am completely capable of doing my job.” 

Not for the first time, Graham is amazed by his insubordination. But the thing that Graham has learned about Killian Jones over the years is though he might have an attitude, a smart mouth, and a need to speak his mind when he shouldn't, you can't deny his track record. 

The man is a damned good detective, whether Graham wants to accept it or not. 

And, worse than that, he knows it. 

Moreso, Killian is the lead detective on the stalker case and no one knows more about the man they're looking for. There's no reason to turn down his request, Graham realizes, except that he wants to. 

Killian tosses the ball in the air, catches it. 

“Fine,” Graham says finally. “But this is still an open investigation, so you can't tell her more than she needs to know.” 

When Killian pulls his boots off the desk and lets them fall to the floor, Graham can feel his desk rattling from the impact. Running his fingers through his hair, he tugs on the end of it, making some of the strands stick straight up, and that muscle in his jaw ticks again. 

“If this man is after her, then she deserves to know as much as she can to keep herself safe from him.”

“Jones,” he tries, but the detective sitting next to him does not respond, just continues talking. 

“She deserves to know what he looks like, and what he did—”

“Jones.”

“—to those girls, because if she doesn't, then he might just—” 

“Killian!” he yells, and his bright blue eyes snap up towards him as his words stop abruptly. “Don't let yourself go down that path. We'll do all we can to protect her, okay?”

Killian lets out a shaky sigh and covers his face with his hands, but Graham can still tell when he nods. 

“Aye,” he whispers, just loud enough for Graham to hear him before turning his eyes back towards Graham. “That's— of course, yeah.” His shoulders rise and fall with his deep, slow breath. “Any other ideas? Things I can do to try to keep her safe?” 

After a moment’s thinking, Graham nods, pushing away from his desk, heading towards the door to his office.

“Yeah, there are a couple more things. I don't want you to do this alone.” 

Killian sighs, and Graham can feel the argument coming before he even opens his mouth, even with his back to the detective. “I really don’t think—” 

“Honestly, Jones, I don’t really care what you think,” he bites back, opening the door and sticking his head out into the bullpen. “Mills!” he calls, startling his youngest detective from the paperwork that he’s intently focused on. 

“Yes, sir?” he replies, practically jumping out of his seat, and Graham just motions for him to relax. 

“Can you come in here for a minute, please?” 

At this, he really does jump out of his desk chair, straightening the front of his dress shirt as he crosses the bullpen. “What’s going on, sir?” he asks, and Graham motions for him to go into his office. When he sees Killian in one of the chairs, he practically stops in his tracks, and when he raises his startling blue eyes from the ground to glare at Henry, he does stop, pressing back against the wall behind him as Graham closes the door to the office. 

“Really, mate?” he growls, his glare still pinning Henry against the wall. “The rookie? You’re giving me the rookie?” 

“Killian,” Graham sighs, rolling his eyes, but he’s useless against the force of Killian’s anger. 

“I tell you that I have a lead on the stalker, on a serial killer, and you sic the rookie on me?” 

“If you don’t want me, I’ll just—” Henry starts, turning back towards the office door as he tries to hide the embarrassment on his face. Killian has voiced his disinterest in working with him before, most of it stemming from his royal bitch of a mother, he thinks were the exact words he growled from the very same seat he’s in now, though there were quite a lot more people in the office. Sure, yes, his mother is the mayor, and she may have pulled a few strings to get him the job when he came back to Storybrooke, but that’s not to say his academy training in Boston and his time with the Seattle Police couldn’t have just as easily done the same. He’s just as qualified to be here as anyone else, maybe even more, but all Killian can see is who he is, blinded by some kind of vendetta against his mother from way back when he first came to Storybrooke. 

“Stop,” Graham says, reaching out his hand to stop Henry from trying to leave the office. “And you can stop, too, Jones.” 

Killian snaps his mouth closed. Henry leans back against the wall behind him. 

“I know you have something against young Mills here, but he is a highly qualified detective, and you’re going to fill him in on the case over lunch and discuss how you can include him in this whole charade.” 

The muscles of Killian’s jaw jump under the stress of his grinding teeth. Henry bites back a smile. But when neither of them answer, Graham crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you understand, Jones?”

“Aye.” 

“Mills?” he asks, and both of them snap their attention towards him. 

He still has to bite back a smile, but he manages to nod. “Yes, sir.” 

“So, I do have a few orders of business to get through first, if you don't mind?” he asks, leaning closer to her as he drapes his arm across the back of her chair at the bar. 

“Orders of business,” she repeats, mimicking his accent with her eyebrows high, but the smile that covers her face shows she is more humored than upset. “Such technical terms to be using on our second date.” 

Now it's Killian's turn to smile, one eyebrow cocked high on his forehead. “Second date? Did I miss the first? Surely I would remember a thing like that.” 

Emma laughs softly, setting her hand on his arm. “Fine, then it's our first date,” she corrects, but that just makes his smile grow wider, turning down towards his outfit. 

“Well, damn, if I would have known that, I would have dressed for the occasion, brought a bottle of champagne.”

“Killian, get to the point,” she says, rolling her eyes. 

“Sorry, darling.” He tenses, leaning away from her. “I just — Graham doesn’t want me working on this alone, so over the next few days, we have to figure out how to work Detective Mills into this whole plan of ours,” he says, much more serious than just moments before. "If you have any brilliant ideas, I'm all ears, because neither of us could come up with anything when we talked earlier. But, as long as it's okay with you, you'll be under my protection for a while. I'll pick you up from work, drop you off in the morning, and we'll spend some time at my apartment and some at yours to make sure that the man we're searching for is actually after you.” 

Somehow, hearing these words from him makes this whole scenario scarier, though she wouldn’t have thought it possible after the constant spine-chilling fear that has been washing over her since Killian revealed the big news to her last night: she’s possibly being stalked. “Do I— do I need to do anything? Should I tell David, or my boss, or…?” 

“No,” he says quickly. “Keep doing everything just as you normally do. If there's a normal time that you go to the grocery store, to the gym, to David's, then keep doing it, we'll talk more about your schedule tomorrow when we meet with Mills. We want him to think that we have no idea he's watching you, give him no reason to think we're on to him, because that's when he gets dangerous.” 

“Okay,” she says, but fails to hide the shakiness of her breath. “That's…” She really doesn’t even know what she was going to say, her words — hell, her thoughts half formed for practically the entire last 24 hours. 

But when she says nothing else for a few seconds, Killian reaches up and rests his hand against her cheek. 

“Hey,” he says softly, turning her face until she is looking at him, and she doesn’t know exactly what he sees when he looks into her eyes, but something in his makes her sure, somehow, that  he wants to do everything he can to keep her safe. “Emma, I promise you that you will be okay. I am going to protect you, Detective Mills and Sheriff Humbert will protect you, and if we need to, then we will get James and David involved and I am damned sure that they will protect you, too.” 

She attempts to smile, but it is barely fully formed before it disappears.

“Why?” 

He blinks once, then again, his soft eyes searching for meaning in her expression. “What do you mean, love?” 

“Why are you doing all this for me?”

“To be honest, I've been chasing this bastard for six months, have watched as he's killed women that have come to me for help, but I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that you're not next.” 

Her only reaction is to pull her bottom lip up between her teeth, chewing gently on it, but her face is still covered with worry. 

She’s been worried before. Hell, she grew up in the foster system, her childhood was drowning in fear. Both of her older brothers, the only family she ever had, went off to war. She was left, alone, terrified, in a Boston jail by the only person she ever gave her heart to. Sure, she’s known fear. But this… is something else entirely, apparently. This is a fear that somehow even cuts deeper than the fear that overtook her in those few weeks she spent in jail before her lawyer was able to find proof that she was telling the truth. 

He must notice her lost in thought (though there’s really no way for him to miss it, her unfocused eyes, the way her pointer finger moves silently around the rim of her water glass), and he leans closer to her, the tips of his fingers wrapping softly against her shoulder as his lips almost brush the shell of her ear. 

“And believe it or not,” he whispers. “I have come to grow quite fond of you.”

Slowly, the corners of her lips turn up in the beginnings of a smile, and seeing the change in her, he lets his own grow bigger, leaning slightly away from her to better see her face. 

“Now you've intrigued me, Jones,” she mumbles, just loud enough for him to hear over the noise of the bar, thankful for the change of subject even though, moments ago, she would have begged him to tell her more about this case. “Do go on.”

“Why wouldn't I be fond of you? You're funny, strong, adorable.” He leans back towards her, and this time, he lets his lips touch the shell of her ear. “And so god damned attractive that I can't stand it.”

With his breath hot on her cheek, she feels a wave of attraction roll through her, settling beneath her stomach as she turns to him, his pale blue eyes wide and fixed on her face. 

“We need to talk about this,” she whispers, and she can swear that they're the hardest words she's ever had to say. 

He pulls away a few inches, his eyebrows knitting across his forehead. “What do you mean, love?” 

“If you're going to be protecting me, spending time with me, pseudo-dating me, then we should talk about… about us. About what we are.”

He leans back farther, his back finding the wooden back of the chair, but he tightens his arm around Emma's shoulders. “Of course,” he says, trying to hide the pang of guilt that snaps in his chest. He should never have assumed that what Emma wanted aligned with what he wanted— he's been taught to be better than that. Just because he was going to protect her by no means obligated her to return his affection for her. And her actions tonight, looking back over them at this moment, said the same thing. “Tell me your thoughts, love. I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just because I saw him while I was taking you back to your apartment by no means means that I didn't want to be there myself, but I also understand that not everyone wants to have to see their one night stand every day for the foreseeable future.”

“No, no,” she says softly, and he definitely doesn't miss the way she leans into his side, smiling up at him.

“Good thing you're not a one-night stand, then,” she says, almost a whisper, and a smile grows across her face. He returns it, and they sit there like that for a few moments, stupidly smiling at the other, until his begins to falter. 

“Maybe that should be something on your laundry list of business that needs to be discussed.”

“What?”

“We slept together, Emma. That's not something that should be overlooked when you're assessing our situation.” 

Suddenly, her head turns to face him, almost snapping into place, and her eyes are wide. “Please tell me that you didn't tell Graham we slept together.”

Killian can't help but laugh. “Of course I didn't, especially after he told me that the two of you dated a while back.” Though he wouldn't have thought it possible before that moment, her eyes widen further, her cheeks beginning to darken with embarrassment. Killian chooses to ignore it, as much as he wants to press the subject farther. “All he knows is that I went to walk you home when I saw our suspect outside your apartment, so I followed you up and informed you that you might be in danger.”

Her hand finds his on the bar before them. She runs her thumb across the back of his before looking up at him, her green eyes shining bright with excitement and affection and something that Killian can’t quite name.

“Okay. Don't take this the wrong way, Killian. Please. I— I like you. And I don't know about you, but that's sort of a big deal for me. I want to take a shot at whatever this is, a shot at us, but I know that we didn't meet under the best circumstances, so if what you want is different, then I'll just deal with having to be near you—” 

“Emma,” he says softly, repressing the urge to lean forward and press a soft kiss against her cheek. “Of course I want to be with you. I would be an idiot not to, and anyone that looks at you and doesn't realize that is a git."

“Thank God,” she finally breathes, letting out an actual sigh of relief, smiling up at him for a moment before the bartender appears in front of them with their plates.

------ 

tags: @shireness-says​​​ @kmomof4​​​ @thisonesatellite​​​ @let-it-raines​​​ @wellhellotragic​​​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​​ @stahlop​​​ @teamhook​​​ @snowbellewells​​​ @carpedzem​​​ @pepperspotts​​​@imlaxdris71​​​ @gingerchangeling​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​ @kday426​​​ @scientificapricot​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​ @itsfabianadocarmo​​​ @galadriel26​​ @jennjenn615​​ @therealstartraveller776​​ @nightskylover​​ @xarandomdreamx​​ @kristi555 @nikkiemms​​ @vvbooklady1256​​ @withheartfulloflove​​ - if you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know

[crackimagines]

Class VII Supports

TOCS AU Masterlist Here

—–

Class VII was greeted with open arms in the monastery, and the general opinion of them are high, mostly.

The most liked students are: Rean, Elliot, Gaius, Laura, Emma, Millium, and Towa.

The most students who seem to be at odds are: Crow, Machias, Angelica, and Alisa.

The universal supports for Class VII is each other, and Byleth.

Closest Friends: Byleth, Jeralt, Alois, Catherine, Manuela

Sara is noted to be one of the strangest out of the group. While she is more drunk than Manuela, she is by far the strongest of them. Those who have seen her in combat put her up with Jeralt and Byleth, if not more skilled. She gets along with all the students, even if she is more than a bit lazy. 

Sara is extremely suspicious of the church, but keeps these doubts only to herself and Class VII.

“That woman can go from completely plastered to absolute bastard in just a few seconds...”

Closest Friends: Dimitri, Leonie, Yuri, Annette, Mercedes, Byleth

Rean is said to be the unofficial leader of Class VII, and anyone who hangs around him long enough knows why. He is said to be a very trusting individual, and always seems to go out of his way to help others. He is also a very skilled swordsman, and is the most mysterious individual. With his Divine Knight, Valimar, and skilled fighters around Garreg Mach state that he seems to be holding back, people want to find the answer, but have been unable to. Rumors state he might be hiding something dark within him. 

Rean gets along with mostly everyone, but is suspicious of Rhea like Sara.

“He’s a really nice person, but by the Goddess he’s oblivious when someone’s hitting on him.”

Rest of Class VII under the cut!

Elliot

Supports - Golden Deer, Ashe, Annette, Caspar, Dorothea

Closest Friends: Ashe, Dorothea, Hilda, Caspar

Elliot is one of the most liked students of Class VII. His soft personality makes him very easy to befriend, but seems to be easily intimidated by the standoffish students. That being said, he is surprisingly brave, moving up to the frontlines with the rest of the class despite his less than ideal physique for a military academy. People constantly asks if he can play his violin for them, which he is more than happy to oblige. He can be found near the church, playing for the choir or with Dorothea.

“Elliot’s nice. Though, too much so for his own good.”

Machias

Supports - Golden Deer, Dedue, Ferdinand, Constance, Dorothea, Ashe, Edelgard

Closest Friends: Ignatz, Raphael, Dorothea, Ashe

Machias is hands down the most problematic student when it comes to relations. He hates Nobles with a passion for their “holier than thou attitude”, and is not afraid to state these sentiments to their face. He has the most hostile relationship with Ferdinand, Constance, and Lorenz. However to commoners, he seems to be far nicer and patient with them. Hatred for Nobles aside, he is quite gifted in both academics and combat.

“As long as you aren’t a noble, he’ll talk to you. Otherwise you’re better off talking to a wall. Plus you’re less likely to get shot at.”

Gaius

Supports - Golden Deer, Petra, Dedue, Cyril, Ashe, Flayn, Mercedes

Closest Friends: Petra, Dedue, Claude

Gaius is the most calm of the entire group, seemingly never letting anything get under his skin. He is a caring individual, and his homeland is a topic that fascinates everyone, seeing how different he is from the rest of Class VII. He doesn’t have any problems when it comes to talking to the people of Garreg Mach and is a reliable friend.

“Gaius is cool and everything, but sometimes I wish I understood what he was talking about. Especially about the winds.”

Emma

Supports - Golden Deer, Annette, Flayn, Mercedes, Constance, Sylvain,

Closest Friends: Claude, Lysithea, Marianne, Annette

Emma being the actual representative of Class VII, or in their terms Class President, she speaks with Rhea and the other house leaders the most, though she is joined by Machias and Rean. She doesn’t seem to be particularly noteworthy according to others, saying she is booksmart and fully capable in combat, but seems a bit off. Her magic seems to be far greater than what she uses, but it seems that’s kept under wraps.

“She seems nice enough, but it’s kinda hard to read her sometimes, ya know?”

Jusis

Supports - Black Eagles, Flayn, Felix, Lorenz, Constance, 

Closest Friends: Ferdinand, Hubert, Bernadetta, 

Jusis is the second quietest of Class VII, and seems very intimidating. However, he just doesn’t have much to say and has a bit of trouble saying what he truly thinks. While seeming rude and condescending, a lot of the time he does not mean for it to come off that way, and is acting a how he thinks a noble should. While he finds Ferdinand and Lorenz obnoxious with how much they boast, he shares the sentiment that it’s their duty to protect the common people. His fencing style is stated to be very elegant and deadly.

“Man, he’s so cool looking! I wonder what goes on through his head when people like Felix and Constance talk to him though...”

Crow

Supports - Black Eagles, Sylvain, Yuri, Claude, Shamir, Seteth, Rhea

Closest Friends: Edelgard, Sylvain, Yuri, Claude, Byleth 

Crow is referred to as “yet another Sylvain”, seemingly careless and always trying to hit on any pretty woman he can. He is shockingly very skilled in combat, and can hold his own and sometimes displays his responsible side, though that is very rare. This side comes out the most when he is with Towa and Angelica. He is notorious to be very bad with money as he constantly gambles and usually loses it.

“Never give him any money. Ever.”

Fie

Supports - Black Eagles, Annette, Mercedes, Lysithea, Ashe, Raphael, Shamir, Jeralt

Closest Friends: Dorothea, Bernadetta, Raphael, Hubert, Caspar, Byleth

Fie is the quietest of Class VII, and somehow outsleeps Linhardt. She has even less to say than Jusis and rarely engages conversations on her own. That being said, people love speaking to her due to how “cute” she is, much to her dismay. She is extremely skilled in combat, and agile to boot. She has been seen to jump around constantly during battle striking at precise enemy locations to disrupt them without breaking a sweat. The second deadliest of Class VII, right behind Sara, she has been known to be friendly with very few people.  

“Fie is adorable! But, man she scares me sometimes.”

Alisa

Supports - Black Eagles, Sylvain, Ignatz, Leonie, Mercedes, Ingrid

Closest Friends: Caspar, Mercedes, Leonie, Ignatz

Alisa is notorious for holding grudges for an insane amount of time, leaving people doing their best to avoid her. While no doubt gifted with a bow, people state she has a very quick temper, making her the second most disliked of Class VII. However those close to her would defend her, they have a hard time denying what people say. Despite her problems, she is fiercely loyal to anyone who sticks by her, and seems to be a reasonable person. Most of the time.

“She’s a bitch sometimes, but she’s a good person...I think.”

Laura

Supports - Blue Lions, Leonie, Raphael, Caspar, Balthus

Closest Friends: Annette, Ingrid, Ashe, Felix, Balthus, Dimitri

Laura is the most physically strong person in Class VII, as she is known to be using a greatsword that’s almost bigger than her. Aiming to become the strongest, she is constantly challenged by those of similar mindset in the Monastery, and can be found in the training hall for a majority of her freedays. Despite being so intimidating, she is friendly with those who approach her, even being friends with those weaker than her. Though, she is known for no knowing what to do when it comes to doing “girly’ things.

“I’d say that her sword is comically oversized if I hadn’t seen her cleave armored knights in half with it.”

Millium

Supports - Blue Lions, Bernadetta, Hubert, Lysithea, Flayn, Cyril, Alois

Closest Friends: Alois, Flayn, Bernadetta, Dedue

Millium is the youngest of Class VII and seems to act very childish. Underneath her youth lies a fiercely intelligent girl, having been trained in covert operations and intelligence divisions. However, despite this training she seems to blurt out insensitive, rude, and important details as if everyone else had figured them out already, shocking anyone around her. Rudeness aside, she is very friendly to those she deems she wants to be friends with. The person in question has no choice in the matter, and better like them, cause she is known to pester them to no end.

“Millium is so cute! She’s like a little sister! Though, she’s everything good and bad about a little sister...”

Angelica

Supports - Literally every female in Garreg Mach, Dimitri, Claude, Yuri

Closest Friends: Dorothea, Edelgard, Ingrid, Hilda, Byleth

Angelica is a terror among the females of Garreg Mach as she is constantly hitting on all of them, even moreso than Sylvain. Libido aside, she is friendly enough with all students, even the guys. What shocks people the most about her is her form of combat, which is purely hand to hand. For someone who is relatively small, her punches have killed, even though she’s hitting people in heavy armor. She is known to be the most friendly with Towa and Crow.

Towa

Supports - All Three Houses

Closest Friends: Dimitri, Edelgard, Annette, Yuri

Towa is the friendliest of Class VII. She is a workaholic to those who can see her, and the kindest girl anyone has ever known for those close. She cares for everyone in the monastery and takes the time out of her day to make sure everyone is okay and if she can help them with anything, acting as an unofficial school counselor. No one has been able to abuse her kindness for helping with work and get away with it, thanks to Angelica, Crow, Sara, and Rean.

“That poor girl needs a break, I’d buy her tea everyday if she would stop working herself nearly to death each night...”

[fistsoflightning]

15: a life in your shape

prompt: ache || masterpost || other fills || ao3 mirror

word count: 2517

A’dewah just wants to be loved, no matter how much he’ll have to give. (Or; things don’t necessarily turn out well when you keep falling for guys already in love with your friends.)

Aha....... A’dewah angst.... ‘when the prompt is ache am I just supposed to ignore the very easy path to listen to ‘Strawberry Blond’ for two hours’; the fic.

The first time he realizes, the flowers in his hands are in full bloom; vibrant oldroses and brightlilies from his garden. Summer in Mor Dhona means the gloom clearing, and when Zaya drags him along to Lake Silvertear with everyone else he doesn’t really have the choice to say no, so he grabs his basket and weaves flower crowns by the shore as everyone chases each other around in some chaotic game of tag.

Funnily enough, G’raha breaks away from the crowd to sit next to him, at some point; he starts on a ruby red and white crown for him as he catches his breath. His eyes are bright, mismatched teal and Allagan red, and even though A’dewah hides his odd eye the same way G’raha does he wonders what he might look like with his bangs pinned back.

(That, he thinks, was probably his first mistake: thinking G’raha enjoyed spending time with him as much as he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t, but he’d always had the problem of hoping for more where he didn’t deserve it.)

He looks up, halfway through the crown, and sees G’raha still watching everyone scramble about—in the distance A’dewah can see a gigas, hopefully it won’t come much closer—and even though he knows it’ll break him, he keeps weaving flower stems back and forth as he asks, “Who are you looking at?”

G’raha sighs, unbearably fond, and A’dewah knows the look on his face a bit too well when he looks up. 

“Lunya,” he says, and it doesn’t take a bard to tell that he’s utterly besotted. “How she’s so energetic I will never know.”

Oh, he realizes, fingers stiffening in the tangle of flower stems as he looks back at Lunya—she hardly even spares him a glance, waving only to G’raha. He’d thought he’d done something else wrong, like insulting her sense of fashion—which, honestly, wasn’t a reach, considering his coat and the earring—or being able to heal more than she could, or something even stupider, but this—

Oh, I’m an idiot, he thinks as Lunya looks away and G’raha can’t help but keep staring.

If he finishes up the rest of the flower crown sloppily, G’raha doesn’t say anything, not even when A’dewah carefully places it on his head and runs off, his heart askew.

(He doesn’t even say anything before he goes and seals himself off in the tower—not that A’dewah was expecting anything. He wasn’t a friend, really, so he expected to hear the news from someone else, expected to hear that he confessed just before leaving.

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that he was stupid enough to think Raha cared or the fact that looking in the mirror, seeing one red eye and dark red hair—that it’s enough to make him ache.)

...

The second time—gods, he’s so stupid to have more than one time—the second time, the flowers in his hand are wilting. It’s fall—flowers usually die off sooner, so he’s not sure why the ones he has are simply wilting—but it is also Coerthas, and the chill is enough to make him want to wilt.

So is, he thinks, Haurchefant’s smile. Bright and blinding, full of life.

(He’d known he’d fall from the moment they met the man, after the raid on the Waking Sands and before the fall of the wild roses—he’d known what would happen if he let himself accept the kindness Haurchefant had so freely given, and he’d seen Reese’s reaction to his exuberant greetings. He’d known.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t try to stay away.)

The Vault is a blur; flurries of flame and magicked armor, the Heavens’ Ward, the number of elixirs A’dewah drains to keep up—and even then, he’s only got so much of himself left when Haurchefant falls at Zephirin’s spear, and if it weren’t for Lunya he’d have bled himself dry to save his smile, even when his heart aches at the thought of a knight sacrificing everything for his ladylove.

(It’s terrible, his jealousy, so unwanted and unkind. He does not hate his friends—they’re stronger and sharper than he is, anyways, and if he did actually come to hate one of them they’d surely be able to tell and break his spine for it—but part of him wishes he were good enough to be wanted in their place, and everytime he thinks about it he feels worse than he did the last time.

He’s good for something, sure. Maybe that something is healing. Maybe that something is making his friends hate him.)

Haurchefant survives, of course; Lunya is so much stronger than he is, so stubborn that she wouldn’t have let his tale end here, but even stars have their limits. Right after the Vault, there’s no one left among them with enough energy to keep watch, in case something goes awry. Reese offers to stay, but she looks ready to collapse even moreso than A’dewah does.

When Count Edmont asks who would be keeping watch, A’dewah practically forces himself into their sickroom before anyone else, and keeps himself up that night watching the quiver of their connected aether rather than the quiet burning in his stomach.

He hates himself. He truly does; why else would he stick so close?

…

He doesn’t even remember why he has dead flowers in his hands the third time—something to do with a sudden cold snap killing even the hardiest of flowers around Ishgard, and volunteering himself to see if any plants were saveable under the packed snow—but it’s a halfway decent example of what he feels like when he sees Aymeric and Hanami walking along the cleared path back to the row of minor houses, away from the Last Vigil.

(The fact that he looks at them and wants makes him sick. He should want for nothing—he’s alive, he’s not in a gaol, he’s—)

A’dewah’s not sure he looks back down to the grey dirt fast enough to avoid Hanami’s quick turn, coldfire gaze freezing him in place more than the weather, but he sure as all hells tries. She’s already angry enough at him as is, having heard the truth at the Wall and then right from Ilberd’s lips, the bastard.

(He can’t say he didn’t know before—it’d just sound like a lie, no matter how true it actually was, even with desperation reddening his eyes and leaving tears dripping from his chin. He doesn’t know how to say anything that might make them listen again, doesn’t remember any half-decent apologies that he’d spewed to his sisters—and those never worked, either.

It was easier to let them hate him, anyhow. Better to let a tainted flower die than to give it one last chance.)

He’s not sure what breaks first, when he hears Aymeric whisper is aught amiss and he suddenly wishes (selfishly, horribly, wickedly) that he was the one he was speaking to; his composure, or his heart, but he curls up further into himself anyways until he hears two sets of feet walking away.

(And if his heart bursts open after that, summer rain melting Ishgard’s winter snow, there is no one around to tell him to stop being such a crybaby.)

…

“—keep yer hands pressed down hard, I’ll be right back with a healer—”

“—go, I got it—”

He doesn’t know who’s speaking, head spinning as it is behind closed eyes, and he only realizes he can’t feel his hands when he tries to rub his eyes and finds he can’t.

“Hey,” someone asks—someone from earlier, but A’dewah’s ears ring and he can’t think too hard on it without everything fading, so he just tilts his head somewhat to his left to show he’s listening. “There you are. How’re you feeling?”

What he says, he doesn’t quite hear, but maybe it was something like tired or drunk or… something; he can’t accurately describe the feeling-non-feeling of being unable to move but still there. The only thing he can tell is that there’s a weight on his chest, and that it smells a lot like iron. Kind of like an infirmary, packed with injured, if he thinks about it; too close to Rhalgr’s Reach after the run-in with Zenos.

Right. Zenos. He’d been fighting alongside everyone, sneaking out to the spring night—was it Yugiri that told them the crown prince was here, or someone else—and he remembers the red crackle of his third blade, and the disgruntled groan of—of someone, he can’t remember who, and he’d ran forward…

“Can you focus on breathing for me?” 

A’dewah does; at least he’s good at listening, if not for anything else, his breath evening out. His head stops spinning enough for him to think once he does, but even digging for the name to place to the voice is hard enough. He finally manages to crack his eyes open enough to see past the blur, then, and blinking a few times clears it enough for him to realize two things:

One: Oh. Haruki.

Two: That’s a lot of blood in the towel on my chest.

If he could feel his hands, he might have tried to feel his chest, lay his hands on top of Haruki’s—they’re covered in blood, doesn’t he hate the sight of injuries, doesn’t he hate the smell—but he doesn’t, because his hands don’t move when he tries to. Like a puppet, strings cut, unfeeling. Instead, he just looks down as much as he can, the white coat he usually wears gone and a cut in the black turtleneck he’d been wearing. The lily of the valley from Mune that he’d tucked into the collar of his coat lays at his side, stained crimson. A bit like his hair, now that he looks at the mess; maybe red dye wasn’t the best of choices.

Zenos, his mind supplies when Haruki shifts his hands a little and A’dewah sees the gash. You jumped in front of his sword for someone.

Well, that explains all the blood. Probably. 

(A part of him is disappointed Zenos didn’t cut away enough of him to prove to Haruki that he’s not worth the trouble, that he’s not as kind and hopeful and brave as he used to be, but he doesn’t say anything. He’d just sound pathetic.)

“Don’t worry about it,” Haruki says, even though he looks like he’s about to panic when A’dewah looks back up. His little grin is too sharp, at the edges, glued into place, and even though he knows something’s wrong more than just a lot of blood and an injury he doesn’t fight it. He probably wouldn’t, even if he could. “Just stay with me, yeah?”

Sure. He nods, staring up at the ceiling, and then to Haruki, a question at the tip of his tongue.

“Are…” He coughs, and the way Haruki winces makes him grimace, too. “Are they… safe?”

“...Yeah.” Haruki’s face twists into something strained but fond at the edges, and A’dewah doesn’t like the way his heart skips a beat for it. He can’t—it isn’t. He won’t let his heart ruin him again, even if it means ignoring the way his traitorous ears flick back when Haruki reaches up and brushes his hair out of his eyes, even if there’s still blood stuck on his hands and even if the sticky feeling makes him feel ill. “Dewah, keep your eyes open, ‘kay? Think Tehra’ir’s almost back with someone.”

He nods again, but his vision is already blacking out at the edges—oh, he thinks, blood loss will do that, huh—and when Haruki looks back up at him he’s already got his eyes closed, heart heavy and hearing fading as he starts to fall asleep, even when Haruki calls out—

.

.

.

“Dewah?”

He jerks up, already halfway to standing when his knee connects with Haruki’s ribs; for his merit, he only lets out a small oof before A’dewah realizes where he is. He blinks a few times, just for good measure.

Right. The One Garden. Napping under a tree, flowers (that he wasn’t certain were there when they sat down) blooming around them as the breeze made them sway.

“S-sorry! I didn’t—I thought someone was—” He’s not sure whether to lay his hands over the spot where he’s sure Haruki will bruise or to sit back down and stay still so he doesn’t smack him again, so in his fluster he decides on neither, wobbling back and forth between the two until Haruki pulls him down into his lap.

“No worries, sunshine.” Haruki smiles brightly, and A’dewah’s not sure if he bristles at the reminder of his heartaches or at the gentle touch he puts on his shoulder. “Accident, yeah?”

He nods, face a bit flushed as he tips his head down. There isn’t blood, anywhere—horrible of his head, to throw him back to then rather than letting him dream of something stupid, like Zaya’s oversized sheep and even more oversized yol terrorizing Revanant’s Toll, or singing flowers. 

“So, uh,” he says after a few moments, feeling a bit more himself. “You called?”

“Yeah. You looked—” Haruki pauses, then, to yawn, lifting his hands from A’dewah’s sides to stretch his arms. “You looked distressed,” he says, resting a hand on his head and lightly tracing a line down the shell of A’dewah’s ear with his finger. “Bad dream?”

“A bit,” he mumbles, folding his hands in his lap. Wanting to reach out but a bit afraid to touch, like if he lets himself do what he will this will all fade away into the abyss of his nightmares. Like he’s fooled himself into thinking someone cares, again.

But Haruki reaches out first, raising a hand to scratch at the base of A’dewah’s ear—he should have never told him all those years ago that he liked that, too easy a tell and too easy a cure to his aching heart—and he all but melts into the touch, cooling the skin where the summer sunlight has warmed.

“We still got a few bells; you can go back to sleep, if you’re still exhausted.”

“No,” he says, but he still lets himself fall back onto Haruki’s chest—and, yeah, maybe he’s still tired, because he doesn’t even flush at how close he is to his heartbeat, letting his fall in time to it. It’s a bit strange, how he just… fits, in some way that if he had to describe he’s sure he’d die for good. Even being swept up into group hugs by Syhrwyda and Zaya wasn’t as comforting as falling into Haruki’s cool touch—which, kami above, that’s even more embarrassing to think of. “This is fine.”

“Oh, now it is,” Haruki grumbles good-naturedly even as he wraps his arms back around to the small of his back, and A’dewah giggles—stupidly, maybe, but there’s no one around to judge him for it. “Tell me; what changed from a bell ago to make you okay with cuddles now?”

“You’re warmer now,” he replies, and as the wind rushes through his hair again all he hears is Haruki’s laugh, bright as the sun even beneath the shade of the plum tree.

[caffeinated-yearning]

Pains of the Flesh

In which D.W.K. is shamelessly an iteration of me, and Snake Man forces the maintenance of the Human Body despite all efforts to the contrary, and despite being perhaps the Least Likely of the Third Numbers to offer assistance to the humans in the Wily Castle.

Word Count: ~1.1 k Warnings: Implied period stuff, hunger/(begrudgingly) eating, sibling-standard rudeness

“Mine is a loathsome prison of flesh. Snake Man, I’m dying.” It looks over its shoulder, gesturing, pointing; one finger aimed up at its... Brother, it guesses is what he is now. “I’m dying of the curse of a body which bleeds.”

“You’re not dying.” He sneers, and while it knows that his sneer is light-hearted, it is still a sneering thing. It is not sensible to ask for comfort from Snake Man, which is why it did not ask for comfort. Its hand falls to the floor, and it looks back up at the ceiling.

It opens its mouth, closes it, then in a low monotone; “I might as well be dying for all the misery it entails.”

“You’re such a bore when you get like this,” he sighed, looking down at it. D.W.K. 001: Doctor Wily Kid number 1. It looked back up at him, eyes half-lidded, an expression of incomprehensible age on a face that had not the wear of actual time. “Go get something to eat, human.”

“I’m too tired.”

“You’ll be less tired if you eat. Want me to drag you to the kitchen?”

“No, not really.”

“You really are a bore when you get like this. Who am I supposed to play with if you’re not around to help? You make it a lot easier to prank the others.”

“Sorry that I can’t run forever on E-Tanks and an outlet. I would if I could.”

“Yeah, and you and pops are both idiots about it.” Kscht, vrrrt- standing up, he looked down at it again. “I can drag you by the wrists or the ankles. Take your pick, human.”

“If you insist,” D.W.K. lifted a foot into the air, and Snake Man grabbed it without another word. The other offered, and taken; he set off for the kitchen, set off for the ready-made meals that Wily always stocked because no one had enough sense to cook for themselves in this house. Well. Neither of the humans, anyway.

“What do you want?” He’d parked the human in the entryway, dropping its heels and checking the freezer. “Turkey, or meatloaf?”

“Meatloaf is bad and should feel bad for having a texture like it does.”

“Turkey, then. And stuffing.”

“Awful.”

“You like stuffing.” He’d already started tearing open the box, glaring at the human as he stopped midway.

“It’s okay I guess.”

“You’re eating the turkey-stuffing meal.”

“Fine.”

The microwave hummed as they both sat around, one still on the floor, the other perched on the counter. It didn’t matter if Snake Man wanted to be on the counter; for one thing, no one used it, and for another, he could clean it if he needed to. “You don’t like meatloaf?”

“I don’t care for it, but I’ll eat it if I have to,” D.W.K. shrugged, or waved a hand in a way that was meant to convey a shrug. “I still feel like crap.”

“Well you never stood up and you didn’t ask me to carry you and even if you had, I doubt you’d have liked that much more.”

“I rather be dragged across the floor.”

“You’re lucky the castle has no carpet or rugs.”

“Otherwise it would suck to be dragged around?”

“Yeah. And Quick Man would get enough static electricity to fry you.”

“That, too.” The microwave beeped completion, and Snake Man slipped off the counter to poke the meal with a fork. D.W.K. turned its head to the side, watched the proceedings from the floor. “I still like it better here, even if you guys are actively hazards to my health.”

“You like it because we’re active hazards to your health, don’t pretend that’s not part of our charm.”

“Yeah. It’s more interesting.”

“Here. Stinky food for a stinky human.” 

The food smell was almost nauseating, with how hungry its body had become. “Are you saying I need a shower?” It reached up, hands touching the plastic vessel of food which was hot enough to burn within seconds. Set it on its chest, where layer after layer of cloth kept it from burning- instead acting more like a heated blanket does.

“Humans need showers all the time, don’t act offended.” He slid back onto the counter, eyes bearing down on the human, at first with something almost friendly, then increasingly with irritation. “You still need to eat. Don’t just sit there with the food on your belly, you need to put it in your belly.”

“I will.”

“I need my bastard sibling back so I can mess with the others.”

“I know, I’m eating!”

“Go faster then, I had to waste a lot of time dragging you over here!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Noodle Boy.”

“Then don’t make your irresponsible brothers have to be responsible, Snotty.” 

It wondered, for just a moment, if its brothers were- if all of Wily’s robots were actually more... Caring wasn’t quite the right word. Sensible? Sensitive to the needs of others, than they let others believe. It would make sense for Wily to program them to at least care about himself; he made them, and he may have made them to be war machines, but still they lived in his castle, and kept him hale and healthy. Maybe they were more sensitive than they realized.

Some of them moreso than others; Snake Man was still watching it like it was a source of curiosity, rather than someone he cared about. But even if it was a selfish motive- to have someone to help in matters of chaos and disaster- it still brought about a positive change. The cramps that had felt like the world’s end were reduced, and it was once again reminded that it was a senseless thing to be hungry.

“You know Shadow Man would have just brought me a microwave dinner without having to drag me across the castle, right?”

“Oh he did but I had already started taking you here by the time he had started cooking it. He’s in the living room with it now.”

“Wait, you knew Shadow Man was making food already, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Did you have fun being dragged around?”

“Well yes, but-”

“And just think, he’ll bring it to Pops and he’ll get praised for that.”

“You’re such an obnoxious man. What do you think this is, 4D chess? That should be your name. Obnoxious Man. The most awful robot master. Just the worst guy around.”

“You’re so rude! And after I made you food, too. I’m offended. You’ve offended me.”

“Good! Maybe that’ll stop you from acting like Obnoxious Man.”

“Never. I have a reputation and a style, after all.”

[indigomasquerade97]

Brothers Abducted

Chapter 11 – A Plan

 Sam and Takota had been studying together since Jason and Dean had left. It felt good to be looking through these old tomes again. It reminded him of when he would sneak off to read his father’s journal.

The entire time, they would talk with Bobby, catching up. Sam grimaced as he learned more about his father’s disappearance. Dean had told him when they had been alone before, but he still couldn’t quite get his head around it. John had always seemed so indestructible.

He wished he could talk to Dean about it. But he was still out. He’d have to wait until they returned.

He flinched when he heard something rip. Takota had suddenly collapsed, ripping the edge of a page right off.

'Shit!’ Sam rushed to his side, supporting the shorter man as he heaved, as if he were about to be sick.

'I-is he alright?’ Bobby asked, halfway out of his seat. If something happened to either of them, there would be little Bobby could do to actually help. He was just too gosh darn big compared to them!

Takota looked up at Sam. His eyes were tinged with red.

'Something’s wrong,’ He said, slowly getting back on his feet, 'Haven’t felt that in years.’

'What was it?’ Sam demanded, feeling his heart begin to race, 'Was it Jason?’

Takota shook his head to clear it. Then he put his hand to the side of his head, trying to send a message to his bondmate. Then he began to shake.

'He’s not answering,’ He breathed, rubbing at his chest to ease the phantom strains that gripped him, 'There’s nothing. Not even a bit of reassurance, I-’

As if on cue, there came a knock at the door. Bobby quickly looked out a nearby window and smirked. He recognised that green jacket.

‘Hey, see,’ he said, already moving to let the boy inside, ‘nothing to worry about.’

But the two were frowning. It wasn’t like Jason to just knock like that. Why hadn’t he just let himself in, like he already had?

'Something’s wrong.’ Takota said. He reached out to his bondmate, hoping he was just being paranoid and overprotective.

And collapsed. For a long moment he couldn’t breath as wave after wave hit him. The bond was tainted, dark, and warped. How had he not felt this already? He barely heard Sam calling his name, trying to help him to his feet. It was wrong! So many emotions. Cold, fear. For Jason, but moreso for him and the others. Exhaustion. Pain. So much pain! And one thing kept being repeated, over and over.

RUN!

'Bobby, stop!’ He screamed, but it was already too late.

The door was opening.

Bobby didn’t see it coming. One minute he was opening the door, the next he was sliding against the floor. Jason strolled inside, smiling down at him.

'That was easier than I thought.’ He cooed. And for a brief moment, those green eyes flicked over to black. A demon.

Takota forced himself to his feet, pushing at Sam.

'Run!’ He ordered, and dashed towards the towers of books to hide. That wasn’t Jason; not even a part. They needed to get out of sight.

Sam hesitated, looking between Takota and Jason. It took him a second longer to process, and he began running the opposite direction to his caretaker.

But it was too late.

He felt a burning hand rake down his back, making him yelp in pain. He had never felt his knack flare up with such intensity before. Even Adrian was mild compared to this.

If the demon got its hands on him, he would not survive.

The demon watched the small creature run for a moment. It had been around for a long time, and never had it seen something like this before.

Whatever it is, it thought deviously, it will be fun to break.

The hunt was on. With a giggle, the demon stepped forward to follow. Sam managed to drag out his hook, planting it in the wood at the end of the table. He didn’t bother with caution. He flung himself over the edge, sliding down the rope to get away faster. He was glad that he was still wearing the gloves Takota had gotten him for his birthday. They protected his hands from the friction of the rope.

Once his feet hit the ground, he sprinted towards the nearest cover, the dresser. The earth rocked under his feet as the monster bounded forward. Sam grit his teeth and slid underneath.

Sam coughed, chancing a look back through the dust bunnies around him. The demon was only a couple of steps away. As much as he would like it to be, this dresser wouldn’t protect him from it. He quickly looked around, spotting a crack in the wall. He needed to get out of its reach.

But even as he dashed towards the crack, he knew he was out of time. The demon was too close. The earth rocked as a knee hit the ground. Sam’s knack began to burn in warning as he was thrown to the ground. He wasn’t going to make it.

So, he quickly wrapped his cloak around himself, curling into a little ball. He flattened himself down, and braced himself.

He had to bite his lip to stop any sounds coming out as the demon finally looked under the dresser. He could feel how it scanned, looking for him.

Sam froze. He did his best to control his breathing, like Jason had taught him. How many times had he tried to hide from Jason like this? And not once had he succeeded.

This time, it wasn’t training. This time, capture would be followed by death.

Suddenly, a hand entered the space. It rested barely an inch away from where Sam huddled.

‘Come on out, little guy.’ The demon cooed. Those fingers, so powerful and large, began to slowly trail along the ground, heading towards Sam.

Had he been detected already? Sam’s heart began racing. Adrenaline began to pound through his veins, willing him to move.

I didn’t see you.

He hesitated as he thought about his last training session. Movement had been his downfall last time. True, he had never been able to beat Jason. But he had been taught by the man, too. There was not a single person in the galaxy as good at hiding in plain sight as Jason. And every session, Sam got better and better.

And this thing that had Jason’s form… wasn’t Jason. Didn’t have his knowledge and skills, or know the subtle indications of someone hiding in plain sight.

Sam took a deep breath and forced his instincts down. If movement is what gives you away, then he would not move. He watched through the cloak as those fingers got closer, closer.

And ran past him by a hair’s breadth.

The demon growled slightly, those searching fingers now reaching out to touch the crack in the wall.

‘Think your safe in there, pipsqueak?’ It asked, ready to rip the wood apart in its search. Until it heard a noise outside. The roar of a car.

Dean was back.

The demon slowly moved back, its gaze leaving the underside of the dresser as it regarded the returning hunter. It growled, glancing back down briefly.

'I’ll be back for you soon, pipsqueak,’ It said, then chuckled, 'Even if I have to burn the house to the ground.’

Even when the demon left, Sam was slow to move. He counted a whole minute in his head, just in case the monster doubled back. But once he heard the front door slam shut, he finally rushed forward.

He peaked out from the dresser, looking back to the table. Takota was already at the edge, scanning for him. He waved when he caught sight of Sam, who quickly waved back to show he was fine.

‘Is Bobby okay?’ He called out. He couldn’t see the human from the floor.

Takota quickly looked out at the human. After a moment, he nodded.

'He’s breathing. That’s a good sign. But I think Dean is in trouble,’ He said, already rushing along the table, 'Get up here. I have an idea.’

Sam quickly rushed back to his rope, which he had abandoned on the table in his mad dash. After years of training, it only took him seconds to scramble up. He quietly thanked Jason for insisting that he train for at least half an hour each day for the past decade.

Once on the table, though, he drew a blank. Takota was waving him forward.

'What’s the pla-’ He cut himself off when he noticed the giant book Takota had sprinted from. ‘Oh… I’m an idiot.’

‘So, are you ready to give this bastard a nasty shock?’ Takota asked, grinning like a madman.

[magmacannon]

5-15 for yarrow!

back at it again at the krispy kreme!!

Does your character have any biases for or against certain races?

As an elf he likes elves, but is pretty well balanced here since he’s had a lot of around-the-world (’world’) experience. Paradoxically he’s also a bit more cautious when initially approaching other elves because he doesn’t know if they’ll be normal or idolize him and ‘follow his example’ due to his perceived connection to Corellon. 

What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority?

APAB (all paladins are bastards) because he lives in a city with REALLY shitty paladin-run authority and chooses to remain there in part out of spite and because he wants to flaunt that Yes, He Can Exist Right Under Their Noses. He likes the parties that nobility throw (usually) and high-end fashion funded by nobles, but he recognizes the inherent cruelty required to maintain wealth and power over others based on claims of superiority due to blood/basically anything other than elected leadership roles, so he’ll schoomze with nobles for fun and then actively go against them if given the chance. (He has to be careful not to piss off the Thurisaz nobility and end up in jail, though) 

Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc.

Hell Yes Fellas… Currently Yarrow’s got a purple ombre dye thing going on, due to a night out with Barnabas, but other than that he’s got massive loose curls(?) of pink hair, is 6′9″ and has pink, kind of holographic skin, and looks like a model. He refuses to dress badly and currently has about.. 5? large winter coats that he’s been wearing whenever he leaves the desert. The recent order of silks he got in will be put to good use, he’ll probably try sewing something new to see if he can pick up another skill. 

Journey-wise, Yarrow’s down about 6 inches of hair due to a trip through the desert where it kept getting singed off by fire spells (and a chimera), but you wouldn’t be able to tell. The only scar he has is a barely noticeable almost horizontal scar next to the center of his chest, but he’s avoided any other long-term scarring (so far). 

Edit: OKAY HE HAS… one more scar but it’s unmentionable and not from traditional adventuring so you know hdhdodkdg

What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most?

This was a tough one! He likes Thurisaz for the most part (he likes the temperature, the houses, the layout of the city, and the people who aren’t in positions of power), but I don’t know how much it feels like home?? I think it feels more like home than anywhere else, though. Yarrow could probably pack up and move if needed, though he’d hate having to move all of his stuff to somewhere else. I don’t think it bothers Yarrow that he doesn’t have a space that feels like “home,” as humans or other races may have. I think he could find enjoyment and as much a ‘home’ as he has right now in basically any city, as long as he’s around other people. 

What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship?

Corellon but like. Only a little you knowHe’s fine with other people’s worship! It doesn’t bother him or interest him too heavily, unless someone’s doing something extremely evil or corrupt of course. The aesthetics of some of the deities go the fuck off though. 

If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be?

God he knows how to do so many things (elf with a massively high drive to Work). As I mentioned earlier, he’d like to pick up sewing - he’d probably try to pick up another instrument as well, just for fun. 

Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right.

ohh random roll for wine and cheese night (or jenga championship 2999) - Eri! Yarrow and Eri are pretty different people when it pertains to interests (though there is some overlap with fashion and the color pink), but as the two elves in the party there’s definitely some powerful camraderie there. Yarrow feels less like he has to perform around Eri and hopes that Eri can feel the same, though they started out with posturing to be sure. They very recently had a good bonding chat over the lifespans of some of their companions and shared in the melancholy that is elf emotions, and Yarrow was surprised at how good it felt to talk about those complicated subjects with someone that he knows understands, to some level. Overall, Yarrow’s not sure if he’d trust Eri with sensitive information because… the man is bad at lying and also likes to get a stir out of the friend group (i.e. revealing that Yarrow gets vertigo when climbing things), but Yarrow does trust him with his life. 

What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence?

“Work Hard Play Hard, every single goddamn day” 

Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.?

pffHe’s happily settled with his house! He might want to move someday, after Thurisaz falls or whatever 

Has your character ever been in love?

Well that’s a rude one to ask. …In a way??? Yes, a lot. He’s loved a lot of things, a lot of moments, a lot of people. Too many to count at this point, honestly. But none that have stuck with him moreso than others. 

What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character?

The first thing to come to mind was a battle he almost completely missed - where Canna snapped someone’s neck in a restaurant freezer. Other than that, the battle with Cirque D’Etoile against the…. sexy bandits…. was the most memorable (both good and bad wghjfkfjhd) 

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Himeros Morismos

Bakukami week day 8: Free prompt @officialbakukamiweek Summary: Neither of them had come to UA looking for their soulmate, but the urge had been undenyable. Kaminari, someone who had thought he was a Beta until then, started experiencing heat symptoms and Bakugo, an alpha through and through, had his rut three months early over the weekend. When they pass out in class from fevers, Recovery Girl tells them they are soulmates, meant to be together and the only way to reduce the fever and help alleviate the pain they felt was to spend time together. Whether they wanted it or not, they were stuck with each other. Read on ao3 (where I have the line spacing properly done and better tagging) WARNING: 25K!!!!!! 25,000+ WORDS!!! Also Omegaverse and a metric fuck ton of cuddling

Bakugo Katsuki wasn't the kind of person you hoped was your fated one. Aside from his status as an Alpha, he was rather violent, loud, pushy, brash and downright rude all the time. 

Kaminari, on the other hand, was almost the perfect image of an Omega. Happy, silly, carefree and most of all; cute. He wanted to be a hero, someone who could help make people happy and keep people safe. He couldn't understand why people assumed he couldn't, or when they thought he was an Omega or an Alpha because he hadn't ever presented. Which meant he was a Beta. Or so he'd believed, until his first day of school. It hadn't been much, just a brush of their hands on the way out of the classroom at the end of the last day of the first week. Dorm papers were due soon, and Kaminari had planned on requesting either Sero, Ojiro, or Kirishima while Bakugo was going to demand a single. As soon as their hands touched, their bodies began heating up. Scorchingly so, as if flames had erupted to consume the pair at such an action. The look on Bakugo's face was one of horror and hatred, while Kaminari was merely confused. Why did he react like that? Bakugo scoffed, going on his way home despite the blooming fever. The weekend which followed was one of torture and pain for the both of them. Kaminari, at least, spent his weekend buried in his bed, whimpering and crying through the pain as lightning rods absorbed all his extra energy. He was presenting as an omega his body adapting to the new role he'd been given. During the brief periods of respite, he would eat and talk with Altria; a friend who spent her weekend with him for the sole reason there needed to be an adult in the house.  She helped him through the otherwise unbearable heat, even getting him supplies to help. Ice packs, suppressants, Alpha scented plush toys and other comfort items to assist him. Kaminari seriously doubted he would have made it through without her help. His body screamed and begged for an Alpha, and no matter how many Alpha scented toys he smelled or cuddled, nothing was right. They were all too sharp, harsh even. The scent he was looking for was sweeter, like burnt rubber from tire tracks. Intoxicating and addictive, but with a sweetness of caramel and blackened marshmallows. Unusual for an Alpha, yet it felt right to search it out. He didn't know why or who it belonged to, but he needed it like he needed to breathe. Bakugo, on the other hand, was indeed in hell. He knew what had happened, knew what it meant for the both of them. His parents were also Fated Ones and had explained the concept to him at a young age. The rut, two months early and only suppressible through aggression. He spent most of his time at the gym, sweaty and worked out the need to dominate on a punching bag. Of course, there were other Alphas around who were more than happy to spar with him at first, but having their asses thoroughly handed to them by a teenager time and time again had them avoiding him at all costs. This was the safe way to deal with a rut, and his quirk going crazy. Midoriya might have sparred with him if not for such instinct to kill being so deep-seated in the alpha. This wouldn't stop on account of school, and he knew it, so he wondered if Kirishima was ready to take a beating. After the usual forty-eight hours were up, the burning sensations had given way for a moment of respite. All he could hope was that being in close proximity to an Omega in pre-heat had triggered his rut incredibly early and that was why it was so persistent. He'd been snapping at his parents all weekend, and once his omega father caught a whiff of his rut, he'd immediately told his mother. She'd hounded him, even wrestled him down for a good twenty minutes before proving herself unwilling to relent. She asked him what had caused it, all the while letting him wrestle with her while his father continued to clear the area around them for safety purposes. Explosions had filled the room, kept to a minimum because even if he was in Rut, Bakugo wasn't stupid and didn't want to hurt his mother severely. It'd been good for him, even if he hadn't given up the information they wanted. It wasn't right, after all. He didn't have a Fated One, and his rut would go back to normal after the weekend, and he would never have to worry about a loser Omega ever again, or so he believed. He thought he'd never crave the scent of a thunderstorm upon the horizon, electric and singing through the air with rain and cactus fruit. And if it didn't die down, he'd threaten the bastard until he never wanted to see him again. Simple. Then return to Hero training. What could go wrong?

Along came Monday, and still, the burning did not cease for the two. They arrived at school and noted one another's appearance silently. Kaminari's disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, his tie still half undone and eyes unalert. Bakugo's bruised arms, his tired eyes and a tiny limp in his usual gait after banging his foot on the corner of their couch while wrestling with his mother. Even with the heavy suppressants, they were on since no scent came from either blonde, they were a mess. Neither could pay attention in class enough to be present, training was a wreck, and Kaminari ended up frying half his team in a moment of surprise. It fell into a routine throughout the next three days, of them coming in and out of focus during class. Bakugo, albeit weighed down by the heat, dealt with it far better in that he could keep from hurting others and keep his grades up. The dorm applications came and went, and Aizawa announced they would be moving in that weekend. So long as Bakugo didn't get put with Kaminari or Midoriya--He'd been informed the singles were rut and omega rooms only--he'd be fine. He could ignore anyone else. Well, maybe not Iida or IcyHot. One would get on his nerves too much, and he'd be liable to dye the other's hair in his stupid candy cane headed sleep.

It was during homeroom on the day before they were to move into the dorms when they began to feel dizzy. The heat addled their brains, Kaminari moreso than Bakugo, and thusly, he was the first to fall. He'd been swaying in his seat all day, and Kirishima had gotten worried. "You okay, man?" He asked as Aizawa had declared Homeroom a free study period, "You reek of distress." Kaminari attempted to turn around, face red and vision darkening, only to fall out of his chair to the left and knock his head on Jirou's desk on his way down. Those in the direct vicinity exclaimed in shock as he hit the floor, Aizawa getting up from his desk and heading over. "What happened?" He asked, kneeling as Kirishima and Sero got up, the whole class watching now. "I-I don't know sir!" Kirishima exclaimed, "H-He just. Just passed out!" The smell of distress permeated the air, battery acid leaving a sour taste in the mouth of the Alphas. "Alright. Bakugo," Aizawa decided, picking up the unconscious blonde, "You'll bring him to the nurse's office." Bakugo grumbled a response, getting up only to fall over similarly, his fever had consumed him for far too long and his body failing him. He didn't remember hitting the floor, nor could he feel the pressure of it as his body cried out in alarm. The voices came as no surprise either, with being unable to hear them or understand. He was being lifted into strong arms, and he felt extreme anger at seeing another Alpha carrying Kaminari before he fell into oblivion. Kaminari may have dropped first, but Bakugo fell harder.

Kaminari awoke in the nurse's office some two hours later, beds next to one another and the flame having been beaten back within. Kaminari looked around, the white tile all around an uncomfortable sight, yet nowhere near as bad as seeing Bakugo next to him, their hands brushing once more. Even odder, the sensation which bloomed from such contact. As if a cool winter breeze had blown in to settle the fire. He pulled his hand back with a yelp, and the fire returned in force. Kaminari groaned, pondering the possibilities of why. Why would his touch soothe him so? Tentatively, he reached out once more and touched his hand, a wave of blissful relief from the burning heat which had surrounded him coming. "Oh, you're awake." A feminine voice said, at the foot of the medical bed. Kaminari sat up shakily and looked towards her, knocking off the cold towel he hadn't noticed was on his forehead. "R-Recovery girl what happened?" Kaminari asked, refusing to move his hand away from Bakugo's. The heat hurt, dammit! "You both fainted. I'll save the explanation for when you're both awake; it saves time." She shrugged, getting up and making her way over to the blondes. "How're you feeling?" "I'm alright; I guess," Kaminari mumbled though the word didn't seem to fit his mindset. Confused, exhausted, worried. Those all seemed to fit. "Now, Kaminari. No one ever feels 'alright' after fainting. Please explain what happened. From the beginning of your fever to now." Kaminari sighed, looking over at Bakugo for a brief second and their touching hands. "Well, it started last Friday. Bakugo and I kind of. Brushed hands on our way out? And he looked freaked out? But that's when it got hot." He blushed, "And I guess, my heat started? I thought I was a Beta but not. I'm so confused..." "Dearie, you're taking to your late presenting rather well. How much contact have you and Bakugo had since then?" "None, that I can think of. Not physical." Recovery girl hummed, "What's the last thing you remember?" "Coming to school this morning." "Oh my. Kaminari, please remove your hand from Bakugo's." Hesitantly, Kaminari did so. The heat spread from his fingertips once more through his body, and it caused him to blush darkly. He knew his suppressants would keep him from smelling like an omega, so it'd been a shock when Kirishima had called him out on the scent. "And tell me, did your fever return?" Recovery girl asked, and Kaminari nodded. She walked in between them and sighed, shaking Bakugo lightly. In Kaminari's mind, it registered as the same thing as putting mentos in a coke bottle and shaking it. Never a good idea. With a groan, Bakugo opened his eyes and glared at the Beta woman. He wasn't happy, not in the slightest; his head was still fuzzy from the fever. "Glad to see you're awake, Bakugo," Recovery girl sighed, walking back to her chair. "Would you two like to know why you passed out in class today?" Kaminari nodded, and Bakugo covered his head with the blanket. Dealing with this shit was too much, considering he knew what exactly the reason was. He did not want to admit it, however. "It's because the two of you are Fated Ones. Congratulations." Kaminari blinked once, then twice, and then a third with a tilted head and red cheeks. The pain had subsided, yet the heat remained. "Fated Ones? What's that?" "Of course you're that kind of fucking idiot!" Bakugo growled, turning away from the other blonde. "Hey, it's not my fault! I never learned about it in school growing up, and my parents didn't either!" "It's in every shitty romance movie ever! How the fuck could you be that dense?!" Kaminari recoiled, gripping the blanket in his hand. Yeah, he knew he wasn't the smartest, but it didn't give Bakugo the right to pick on him like that. Why did he feel like crying about it? "How would you know it's in every romance movie if you haven't watched them all? Are you secretly a romantic or something...?" He meant it to come out snarkier than it did, but his emotions made it weaker. He watched as Bakugo threw the blankets off angrily, sitting up quickly only to have to hold his head in recoil at an oncoming headache and nausea. "Boys," Recovery girl interjected, once more bringing their attention to her, "As I was saying. You two are Fated Ones. Soulmates, if you will. The reason for your recent fever is due to your separation." At the stares from the blondes, one angry and the other confused, the woman explained further. "As soulmates, you two need to spend time together. Even platonic fated ones have to have thirty minutes to an hour of contact every other day, or else they will get sick. Seeing how Kaminari presented with this, it sent Bakugo into a false rut in sympathy." The growl she received was almost worse than that of a villain's, and it made Kaminari flinch thinking said noise had been directed at him. So it was his fault Bakugo was so angry all week. "Sympathy?! Fuck that! If he goes into heat, it's his fault for not taking suppressants!" "I thought I was a Beta!" Kaminari turned to him, feeling anger drag him under. "God you are a dumb blonde! Did you never think to get tested?" "If you're calling me dumb because I'm blonde, that makes you one too!" "What the hell did you call me?!" Cracking filled the room, and Recovery girl rolled her eyes. These two. "I'd appreciate it if you could both settle down and not destroy my office, or you'll both be suspended for three days." As soon as the words were said, the boys stopped and settled themselves, though Bakugo continued to glare at the Omega. "Thank you," The old woman smiled, "Now, as I was saying. From here on out, you'll have to make time for physical contact. Non-harmful contact, Bakugo. Otherwise, you will both become sick again. Extended distance from one another will end in hospitalization and with extreme cases, even death. But that only happens after around a year without contact. Either way, you'll need to spend time together." Bakugo was uncharacteristically silent, so Kaminari spoke up after the woman. "What... Kind of contact?" He cringed. If Bakugo was right and this situation had been in every movie he watched, then the answer would be less than safe for children. "Cuddling, holding hands, laying together. Another thing you can do, to prevent the fever from coming for a while is to give each other things covered in their scent." "So like," Kaminari bit his lip, glancing at the ash blonde, "I borrow his hoodie, and he borrows my blanket or something?" Bakugo glared at him with a snarl, the slight Alpha scent wafting off of him making Kaminari shrink back. He never used to react like this to Alphas, but his nose had also not been as sensitive. "Exactly like that, Kaminari. Something with their scent on it is more than enough; think of things an Alpha would donate to their omega's nest if it makes this any easier." Recovery girl said while writing some notes for them. "Wait- Is he gonna fucking nest?!" Bakugo said with a slight blush. Nesting was something Omegas did, typically while pregnant or in extreme distress. They built a little place out of soft things they loved, like blankets and shirts. Their Alpha would usually donate one or two items to the nest as a comfort for them, though not daring mess up the nest. Bakugo had seen exactly what happened if someone messed up an Omega's nest when he'd accidentally done it to Inko's back when he was a kid. Scared the shit out of him and Midoriya as well back then. "Y-Yeah, am I gonna nest?" Kaminari asked, the idea of him being pregnant or in such a state of distress that he would start doing such a thing too far out of the realm of possibility for him. Then again, he had made a pseudo nest back home, now that he thought about it. Nothing fancy, but it helped calm him after a stressful day of school and to soothe the heat. "It's possible. Omegas who soulmate present are more likely to do such things; it's calming and since it's a safe spot for them, it's ideal for contact time. However, if Kaminari does nest, and doesn't invite you into it, then it's dire you stay out." "Like hell, I'd go in willingly." "Even if I invited you?" "Why the fuck are you actually considering this as a possibility?!" A small whine emerged from Kaminari's throat, the air tinging with the scent of battery acid and ozone. Recovery girl had to put her foot down. "Both of you, stop it! Right now, your fevers are stable from the brief contact you've had but the stress will make it worse. So silence yourselves and pay attention or I will not be held accountable when you to end up sick!" They stopped and the tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. "Good. Now, Bakugo, you do want this to be a platonic thing, yes?" "Of fucking course I do!" "And you, Kaminari?" "I mean. I've got nothing against it being romantic? If he wants it platonic, then I'm okay with it." "Then Bakugo, you're going to have to get over the natural possessiveness you'll feel over Kaminari. It's likely you've already experienced what I'm talking about but I'll explain nonetheless. You're going to feel threatened when he spends time with other Alphas, and you mustn't growl at them or tear Kaminari away." "Fine." "And Kaminari, you'll have to refrain from butting in on every part of Bakugo's life. He's allowed to have a life outside of you." "Well, duh." "Then, for your health, I'm going to have you two spend some contact time here for a while longer. I'll return to let you know when you two can go back to class. There will be no yelling or insults or physical harm: Do not make your situation worse or it will hinder your abilities to perform in hero training." The Beta left the room without another word, leaving the two in silence. They glanced at one another silently, their faces further pinkening. Neither of them wanted to make the first move, considering the implications. The clock ticked, marking their silence. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Seconds turned into a minute, and Bakugo broke. "Ugh, Fucking. C'mere." He reached over and grabbed the Omega by the back of his shirt, ignoring the yelp which came from the blonde and pulled him against himself. It was something he'd seen his parents do on a number of occasions, chest to back, and he realized why at that moment. As if rain poured down on a desert, the fever went down dramatically and Kaminari trilled, a noise he regretfully admitted was cute. However, this would only be platonic. A means to keep himself healthy. Nothing, absolutely nothing, not even fate itself would get in the way of him becoming the number one hero.

"So, who do you think you got for a dormmate?" Sero asked Bakugo Saturday morning. They'd run into one another on their way to UA since their bags had been sent the day before. Any last minute items they wanted they could get today or tomorrow. Bakugo wasn't particularly fond of the Beta since his scent of freshly zested oranges and fried garlic tended to be intense, which riled the Alpha into wanting to challenge him. The name Kaminari was on the tip of Bakugo's tongue, but he didn't say it. "I don't fucking care, this whole dorm thing is stupid." "Don't be like that, man!" Sero chuckled, "It's fun, and helps with teambuilding! We're living together so we can work better together." "Like I need it!" "You could use some cooperative skills," Sero shrugged, adjusting his backpack, "Anyway. I hope I get someone like Kaminari; he seems fun." A surge of jealousy made its way through Bakugo. How the fuck would Sero, an average Beta, know if Kaminari was 'fun'? And what the fuck did he mean by it anyway? Fun as in he'd be fun to get with or-- Bakugo stopped his train of thought before it could go any further. He had no right to be that way over something as minuscule as a comment. At times like this, he hated being an Alpha. "Then Kirishima." He finally gritted out, picking the person least likely to die while sharing a room with him. At least the hardhead could take his blasts. "So if all goes well, we'll be rooming with the sunshine kids of class A!" Bakugo didn't acknowledge such a statement with more than an eye-roll. Stupid extra. "By the way, why did you and Kaminari pass out in class the other day? You guys never told us." "Fuck off, soy sauce face!"   "Jeez, you're definitely an Alpha. D'ya know if there's any Omegas in our class? I don't think there are, this is a hero school." In the world of heroes, there were only a small handful of omegas spread across the world. It was hard for them to compete in an Alpha's career. Most heroes were Alphas or Betas. Only one omega hero came to mind and that was Ragdoll of the Wild, Wild Pussycats. Omegas as heroes were often frowned upon or targeted, or even bullied into retiring early. An omega going to hero school was essentially setting themselves up for pretending to be a Beta or deal with the consequences. Bakugo could have outed Kaminari, it wouldn't have been hard to do and as an added bonus maybe Sero would drop the topic. But in doing so, he'd also be giving away a weakness of his own. Sero wasn't dumb, he could easily figure out the situation so if he wanted to weaken him, all he'd have to do is keep Kaminari away for long enough. Hell no. So he kept walking without a response, and Sero decided to keep the peace and walk in silence.

The dorm layout, in the simplest terms available, was assigned to keep things peaceful and bring about cooperation. Four rooms per floor, two on each side, and six floors. The top floor, with singles, had six rooms with three on each side. These were rooms for ruts and heats. One room could classify as a small apartment; with a bathroom, shower, fridge, tv, and room enough for a nest as well as the bed. On the guy's side, Iida and Midoriya shared room one on the second floor. Koda and Shinsou had room two, Ojirou and Shouji started floor three with a similarly numbered room, with Aoyama and Sato next to them in four. Sero and Kaminari shared room five on the fourth floor and Bakugo inhabited room six with Kirishima. Finally, Todoroki and Tokoyami had the fifth floor all to themselves. With the girls, the only unoccupied floor was three. Yaoyorozu and Tsuyu had room one on the second floor, Ashido and Jirou took up floor four in room five, which left Hagakure and Uraraka on floor five room eight. The faculty said the layout was meant to prevent potential couples from having easy access to one another, but Bakugo and Kaminari called bs. Otherwise, they would have been put on completely opposite floors instead of right next to each other. Moving in wasn't hard, per se, since all their things were already in their rooms. The only issue Kaminari had while moving in was deciding if he wanted to see Bakugo and risk Kirishima seeing them. Yesterday, they'd agreed to keep everything about their unwilling relationship under wraps, but with roommates, contact time tended to be a bit harder to come by without blowing their cover. Honestly, how did fate think they'd go well together? Bakugo's a brute! A rude, loudmouthed asshole of a brute! He needed to focus. Bonding with his roommate. Sero was a good guy, the most chill Beta Kaminari had ever met, so it shouldn't be too hard right? "So, Sero, dude, what do you like to do?" He asked, sitting down on his leopard print bed as Sero hung up his hammock. "Huh? Me?" "Yeah, you? My one and only roommate?" "Oh. Huh. Well, I'm pretty simple. Set me up with an indie band, some vegan snacks, and a good game and I'm set." "That it?" "Or a comic book. Man, I could read Spider-man all freaking day! He's so cool. I got a ton of my moves from reading his stuff!" "That's super cool!" "What about you?" Sero finally finished setting up his hammock and sat in it, rocking slightly. "Me? Ah, man. I like a lot of stuff! I like fashion, skateboarding, playing guitar-" "What about that?" The taller Beta pointed to a leather-bound sketchbook which laid on the open bedframe drawer of Kaminari's bed, imprinted with a tree of life on it. "Oh, that," Kaminari blushed, grabbing the book with his left hand and rubbing the back of his neck with his right, "It's my sketchbook. My mom used to have me draw when I got stupid and it's kind of become a hobby?" "Can I look through it?" "Sure, Sero." Sero took the book carefully and started flipping through it, eyes widening at what he saw. While only the first ten or so pages were full, it amazed him to see such things. Detailed pictures of the heroes they studied under every day, and landscapes. Oh, the landscapes. The one which really caught his eye was a black and gray drawing of an elephant with the planes of the savannah behind it. From the wrinkles of its skin to the big, black eyes, Sero wanted to run his fingers over it and see if the details translated to touchable texture. "Kaminari, this is so cool!" Sero handed him back the sketchbook, open to the picture of the elephant. "D-Do you want it?" the blonde asked with a blush. Sero nodded, and Kaminari tore out the page to hand to him. His art skill was the only good thing which came from his quirk, even if it was in a roundabout way. If the page ripped, Sero could fix it easily. How lucky, to never have to worry about ripping paper or things such as that. "You're so lucky, Sero. Your quirk lets you fix things." "Ya think so?" Sero chuckled, "It's not that great. Kinda basic, if you ask me." "What do you mean?" Kaminari handed the page to Sero, who used his quirk to tape it to the wall. "It's simple. Not flashy, and it makes long sleeves a pain. There's not a lot I can do in terms of combat. It isn't good for that stuff. I'm not good for much other than grabbing people and transporting them." "That's not true!" Kaminari protested, "Your quirk is awesome! Just wrap people up in your tape and they're done. It's the ultimate shutdown!" Sero smiled and laid down, grabbing his headphones from a nightstand. "Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Kaminari."

Things seemed to go well from there until Kaminari ran out of his scent suppressants and had to pick up more from Recovery Girl during lunch. Bakugo had been particularly standoffish that day, probably since it was a Monday and there was supposed to be a field trip on Wednesday. No excuse for being a jerk, however. As he walked down the hall, Kaminari noticed the staring all around him, could feel Alphas and Betas alike sniffing the air and he did his best to keep from accidentally quirking. All his life, he'd been an anxious kid and seeing the stares from schoolmates didn't help. His heat broke on Sunday, but he knew without his suppressants he would be weeded out as a target and explaining his Omega status was already something he didn't want to do. Not with how the press had been threatening to get into the school all day after catching wind of All Might's employment. All he needed to do was make it to Recovery Girl's office, pick up his meds, and get back without anything happening. "Hey!" He heard come from behind him, and he turned around to see Mina Ashido jogging up to him, "Kaminari!" Kaminari grinned, waving back to the girl. "Hey, Ashido! What's up?" "Not much! Ecto Plasm said I should walk with you on your way to Recovery Girl, but you ran off before I could catch up to you!" Kaminari would have felt irritated at the slight naturist implications of the act, seriously just because he was an Omega didn't mean he needed to be escorted, but Ashido seemed happy to be around him. "Ah, sorry. I wanted to get this over with." Kaminari shrugged, chuckling a bit awkwardly as Ashido fell into place beside him. Her scent was summer, like a freshly bust open watermelon and strawberry milkshake on the pier. With a hint of pink peppercorn, bitter and challenging but sweet in taste. "What'cha getting?" Her pink and black eyes melted him, and he couldn't help the happy laugh. Better to tell her now than let her figure out later. "I'm getting my scent suppressants from Recovery Girl," He resumed his walking towards the office, watching as Ashido sniffed the air slightly. "Oh, is that what I've been smelling all day? I thought you were a Beta, Kaminari." "I did too, until two weeks ago." He shrugged, "Wanna talk more about this over some food after school?" "Is this a date? Kami, honey, that's adorable!" "More like we're missing lunch right now but it could be~" Kaminari smirked, which caused Ashido to laugh hysterically. "Nah man, I've got the biggest crush on like half the girls in our class!" The girl whined, "But the only one who might be interested in girls is Jirou and she's already all over Yaomomo! My bi Poly heart can't take iiiitttt~!" And while Kaminari couldn't sympathize with her, he understood her plight and gave her a reassuring pat on the back. Things were turning out to be a good day after all.

Kaminari was very, very wrong. First, the media break into the campus to cause a riot and then, as soon as he and Ashido got their food after school, it started to thunderstorm so they ran back to school. And since Kaminari couldn't take his scent suppressants before they left, people started getting in their way. Asking if they were okay, what was wrong, and why is the Omega so distressed? With the combination of the rain, the lightning in the back, and the stress from being so crowded it was a wonder he didn't begin to get feverish then and there. He felt the separation begin to settle in, with the stress of keeping in his electricity while outside only making his situation worse by the second. Ashido grabbed his hand and they booked it through the crowds of people. The Alpha girl didn't seem to mind his zapping of her hand, coursing through and yelling at anyone who tried to stop her. 'Can you not see he is having a hard time?! Let us through!' She'd say, and Kaminari was thankful to be her friend. She made sure they got back safely, letting him go only to open the door since the doorknob was metal. "We're back-!" Ashido exclaimed, dragging the blonde Omega into the room with a grin. "Anyone got a towel?" "Ashido, Kaminari!" Yaoyorozu exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and walking over to the two and producing towels for them, "There you two are! Where were you?" "Sorry, Yaomomo," The pair said, Kaminari taking the towel carefully so as not to zap her. "We were just at the park. Sorry!" Ashido said, "We should have checked the forecast!" "Yes, you should have. Next time, please check before you go! Now both of you, please go and change." Kaminari didn't have to be told twice. His clothes were soaked through, and in his room were battery packs he could discharge into. But most of all, the fourth floor had relief from his budding fever. Sero didn't ask questions about why he was soaked nor did he watch as Kaminari changed, being respectful when it came to Omegas and their privacy. As well, ever respectful and too smart for his own good in terms of people, Sero tossed the blonde the only thing of Bakugo's that he'd stolen. A black skull hoodie which was even big on its owner, meaning Kaminari drowned in such a garment. "Thanks," Kaminari mumbled, not willing to have the conversation about fated ones with his roommate. He just needed cuddles; he needed them now. So he threw the hoodie on, taking a brief second to breathe in the scent of burnt marshmallows and rubber before slipping on shorts and exiting the room. He knocked carefully on the door of room number six, biting his lip and hoping Kirishima would be downstairs. He was greeted, however, by a smiling redhead who curiously raised an eyebrow. "Hey Kami, what's up? You need something?" "N-No. Well- Yes. Is Bakugo in there?" So far, they'd been able to have their contact time while Kirishima was out of the room. Usually doing laundry or out at the gym. Things didn't seem too good this time. "Yeah, he's just in the shower. You can come in and wait for him if you want?" Kirishima moved away from the door to allow the blonde in, who quickly scuttled in and situated himself on Bakugo's bed. It wasn't as good as being with Bakugo, but he knew better than to go in there while someone was showering. That would just be rude. Besides, Bakugo was the one who insisted any contact time would be in his room; stupid Alpha territorial instincts. "Thanks," Kaminari said, the stress from the recent events coming off of him in small shallow waves. "No problem. Hey, I got a question for you, man." Kirishima sat on his own bed, not realizing how his Alpha scent affected the omega in the room. Like a barbeque, with drips of honey glaze on smoked ribs. "Shoot, dude." "Are you an Omega? I mean, you and Bakugo have been spending a lot of time together and that's super manly of you but there's been lingering Omega scent everywhere all day and it's really strong right now!" Kaminari blinked, whining softly. He hadn't wanted to say much about it, but maybe because it was Kirishima, things would be okay and Bakugo wouldn't kill him. Roommates and all. "Yeah, dude. I'm an Omega." Kaminari watched as Kirishima blushed shyly, leaning back and looking away. "Oh. Then are you... Scenting Bakugo's stuff? He's gonna be pissed, ya know." "No, I'm fixing myself until he's out of the shower. I've had a shit day, and I need cuddles right now or I feel like I'm gonna burn up!" Kirishima awkwardly smiled, though it was lopsided and unsure. "I could cuddle you if it helps, man. Anything to help out my bro." Kaminari wanted to take him up on the offer, but he knew it wouldn't work. This wasn't like being cuddle frustrated, it felt all warm and hot from the inside out. "It won't work. I need Bakugo's cuddles. He may not look it, but he's kind of good at it? Nnn... 'Sides, he's my soulmate." Kirishima's eyes widened, leaning forward curiously like a puppy. His own parents were Fated Ones, so he'd heard about things with them. He'd always hoped to have a soulmate since only five percent of the population had them. "Really? Dude, that's so freaking manly! You two as soulmates? When did you guys find out? Who knows? How are you handling Bakugo? Is that why his side always kinda smells like an Omega? Are you two Romantic? Dang, you both are so lucky!" While Kaminari expected a small onslaught of questions, he hadn't quite expected those. "Uh... Yeah, we're soulmates. We found out the day before we moved into the... Err... The dorms. You and Sero know we're. Yeah. That. I think he does? And I'm on suppressants. We-" "We're platonic and that's not changing." A new voice came, gruff and irritated, "Kaminari, get the fuck off my bed. We had contact yesterday, you should be fine, so get the hell out." "That's so unmanly of you to do that to your-" "Shut it, stupid hair!" Kaminari whined in reaction to all the noise. He couldn't deal with the yelling. He needed relief. "Bakugo, I've had a crap day. Please? You'll only get a fever tomorrow if you don't!" Bakugo growled, which caused the other blonde to flinch. They both knew one's stress translated to the fever coming to the other quicker so it would be in both of their interest to spend time together now. "God," Bakugo grumbled, sitting down on his bed and dragging Kaminari up by the hoodie, "You're fucking insufferable. If I didn't need you to keep from getting sick I would have killed you as soon as I found out." Despite his words, Kaminari was pulled into a close, comfortable hold which made him purr softly. "Dude, that's no way to talk to your soulmate!" Kirishima protested, "He's had a bad day, you're supposed to comfort him, not put him down!" "Don't fucking tell me how to live my life! I'd gladly give you this dumbass loser but I'm fucking stuck with him!" Kaminari was used to the language by now, so he didn't react and focused instead on the coziness he felt in Bakugo's arms. Even if it was a placebo, he felt safe even if his life was being threatened. Bakugo wouldn't hurt him because it would hurt him as well. "He's an Omega, Bakugo! It's totally unmanly to threaten him!" "He's gotta be able to handle himself if he wants to stay in UA! There's no way in hell coddling him will help at all!" Kaminari blushed softly, his purring getting louder before he was pushed away, tearing a whine from his throat. "Okay, that's enough! It's getting weird so get out!" But Kaminari wasn't done. He reached out with a scowling pout and grabbed Bakugo's arm, staring at the explosive blonde and keeping him there. If Bakugo wanted to get away, he could do so very easily. Kaminari wasn't going to lose his own spark to Bakugo's explosions, so he had to fight back in the way he could without hurting anyone. They didn't usually talk during their contact time, which meant they still had a lot to figure out about each other but Kaminari knew enough to tear down Bakugo's walls temporarily. But Bakugo was still stronger, and they both knew he didn't need actual contact after the brief few minutes of time they spent. So Bakugo grabbed a throw blanket and shoved it into Kaminari's face, prying his arm away. "Get. Out." He growled, pushing Kaminari off of his bed. Kirishima helped Kaminari up and walked out with him, rubbing his back and sighing. "Dude, that's a bit messed up," Kirishima said, staring at the omega worriedly, "He's so mean, it's totally unmanly!" "He's got every right to be cocky though. He's insanely powerful." "That doesn't give him the right to be rude!" Kaminari shrugged. "Kiri, look at this." He held up the blanket, "Do you know what this is?" "It's a blanket." "Yeah, but it's a blanket he's been scenting for me. I don't think he'd do that if there weren't some kind of good intentions there. Yeah, his personality is shit. Really, really shitty. But he's also just really, really intense about being a hero." "I guess so, but I'll believe it when I see it."

On Wednesday, they had the field trip to the USJ. They would spend the majority of the afternoon focusing on rescues, which Kaminari was looking forward to. A lot of people in the class had quirks perfectly tailored to rescue missions and it would be fun to see how people like Bakugo worked with it. He, like everyone else, didn't know what laid in wait for them. When the villains struck, Kaminari's first thoughts were worrying about his friends and how he could help. Aizawa told him to attempt to contact the main campus using his communicator, only to completely fail. Scents were mixing, tensions were high and when they were separated, Kaminari wasn't sure they'd make it out. Of course, he had faith in the class and their teachers, but things were never that simple. But crisis situations tended to bring people together, right? Bakugo was another story. He was single-mindedly focused on taking down as many villains that came at him. Kirishima was beside him taking down just as many villains as he did. Kirishima had some respect for Bakugo, as a potential hero and fellow student. After the fight and seeing how well he can work under proper situations, Kirishima found himself with even more respect for his roommate. Bakugo didn't care so much about the other students; his priority was taking down the big boss and that would mean everyone else would be safe as a result. Including Kaminari. He hated that's where his thoughts went. He had no time for weaklings, nor for idiots like Kaminari. The idea crossed his mind once about the blonde because Kaminari is such a weakling he'll end up dead with all these villains. But fate had put them together, so Kaminari was going to have to be strong enough to survive. Otherwise, fate wouldn't put them together. He didn't need a mate; no one would bring him down. No one could. That's all Kaminari would do if he let him, so it would be better to keep him at a distance-- "Gah- Why the fuck am I thinking about this?! There are fuckers to murder!"

In the end, things could have gone worse for the class. Very minimal injuries all around, and even some praise for keeping as calm as they did under pressure from All Might. Bakugo wasn't going to admit how much that meant to him, not in a million years. From there, squads began forming all around them with people searching for others who were likeminded in their efforts where they could take comfort from such a traumatic event. They were teenagers, after all. Bakugo's group somehow ended up with people on his floor, with Jirou joining them on occasion. Reluctant friends, Sero would say. They put up with Bakugo's rudeness and in turn, he laughed at their antics. Everyone fell into place naturally. Kirishima was the person who hyped them up every morning and was a personal cheerleader for the group, always ready to bring energy to a dull day. Sero was their impulse control, reining them in before they could get themselves killed by pulling some stunt or prank. Ashido was the girl you went to if you needed the biggest confidence boost of your life, though she came up with many ideas which Sero needed to veto. Kaminari was the emotional center, with a smile and a willing ear for any kind of issue; he may not know the answer to your problem, but he knew how to get you to laugh at it or look at it from another angle so it didn't seem as bad. Then, in the middle of it all, was Bakugo. Their reluctant leader, bringing them higher than they had ever imagined. His passion for being a hero infected the other four, blooming pride whenever he genuinely laughed at their antics. He'd never admit to being friends with them, not in a million years, but the fact he yelled advice at them during the day was enough for the four to believe he did in fact, care. But, as anyone who ever had a friend group knows, keeping a secret in groups such as this wasn't easy. Kirishima attempted to make excuses for Kaminari and Bakugo to get away for their health, but his words were always brushed away by his middle school friend. So Kaminari made himself useful and started draping himself over everyone, which came naturally to him. He'd always been a cuddly person by nature. No one questioned when he leaned against Bakugo simply because he was there, because everyone assumed 'Oh, its just Kaminari being Kaminari.' Even if it was so much more. This wasn't the best for either of them, but it kept the fevers down even if Bakugo sometimes flipped the other blonde for getting in his personal space. "Hey, Bakugo?" Kaminari said one morning before class, on their way out to school, "Let's go to the arcade after school!" Kirishima and Bakugo looked at him with surprised faces, Bakugo shrugging in response. "Yeah, whatever. I'm gonna kick your electrical ass at all the games, so be warned." Kaminari practically beamed, running on ahead. Kirishima turned to Bakugo, grinning. "Hey, I thought you two weren't romantic! Super manly of you to go on a date with him!" "It's not a fucking date! Go fuck off and die, we're just going to the arcade! I'll kill you!!" It wasn't a date. No way. They were just hanging out and Bakugo was going to make sure of it. If Kaminari got any funny ideas, he'd beat the shit out of him until all of those ideas left his stupid head.

The arcade was hopping on a Friday, especially the one they'd picked to go to. Bakugo knew the games here inside and out, while Kaminari just had to pick them up. Voices and scents surrounded them, but it didn't matter. Kaminari had lost every game they'd played against each other, from racing games and dancing to music and high score based ones. "C'mon, one more!" Kaminari pleaded, "Just one more! You can even pick it!" Bakugo stared at the omega blandly. Why would he ever agree to it? Other than to kick his butt one more time, of course. "Fine," Bakugo growled, "You fucking idiot." "We'll see if I can win one yet!" Kaminari beamed, before Bakugo grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up by it, growling. "You fucking think I'm gonna lose, you shitty Pikachu knockoff?!" "Hey, I'm a Pichu knockoff; if you're gonna insult me, get it right!" Kaminari laughed in the face of Bakugo-based danger, and Bakugo felt his anger level rising by the second. Not only is this guy an idiot, but he's also an oblivious one. What the hell kind of messed up entity thought this guy would survive? "Whatever you wanna be, you're still a weakling! You'll never measure up to me!" "I'm happy to be my own person, thank you very much." Kaminari grinned like the idiot he was, which resulted in him being shaken back and forth by the explosive Alpha until his head hurt. "You wanna fucking go?!" "I-I gu-ghuess?" Kaminari found it hard to talk, and of course, people were staring at them and he could hear their comments of how 'boys these days are so violent' but couldn't think about them until Bakugo let him down. "Fine. Let's play some air hockey. Not even a fuck up like you can mess that up." "I think you overestimate my abilities, man." "And I think you talk too much, asswipe. Die." "I would, but you would kinda suffer then." "Like hell I would ever need a weakling like you to become a hero, dumbass!" Bakugo put the tokens into the machine for the hockey table, letting Kaminari assume the position at the other end. Air hockey was a sport which required utmost focus and high reflexes with only the tiniest bit of luck. It took no prisoners, tearing them down one after another until nothing but tears and a ruined friendship remained. If you happened to let go of the bumper or cover it and got hurt, then it was your fault. Bakugo set the puck down in the middle, turned on the air with a grin, and the game began. The first hit went to Kaminari, bouncing it off of the wall and flinging it towards Bakugo's goal, only to get blocked with a slam and going straight into the unassuming blonde's goal with a clang. "Point one, me." He grinned, watching the Omega pout as he reset the puck. "But the game's mine," Kaminari said, watching the Alpha and reading the room. It's what Omegas did best, after all. "Yeah right." Bakugo blocked the incoming puck and watched as it slid around, getting caught in a bounce between the sides. The red item clicked and clacked against the plastic before he hit it. With the angle he sent it at, Kaminari had to retreat to protect himself, but a lucky shot intervened and sent it flying into Bakugo's goal. "Point two, me," Kaminari smirked, irking Bakugo and lighting his competitive spirit. Up until now, things had been for fun; now it was serious. "You're gonna die, Sparky." The competition began in earnest, with the puck flying from one side to another in record time. Their focus was entirely on the red object, barely being contained within the limits of the table. Kaminari was lucky, but Bakugo had skill. He'd beaten all challenges every time he'd been challenged, and that wouldn't change today. No Omega would ever best him. The idea was silly, even as they attracted a small crowd which only fueled the fire. Every shot was blocked, curses were thrown about without intent and no points were scored. "You can do it!" Someone said, "Kick his Alpha ass!" "Fuck off and die!" Bakugo yelled, slamming the puck once more to the other end of the table. How long had this been going on? He could feel the bumper slipping from his grip with the generated sweat, and could see the static surrounding his opponent. This wouldn't do. No way. He needed to do something to distract Kaminari and surprise him long enough to get in a point. So he did what came to mind, quickly changing the hand which held the bumper in the split second of time he had when it traveled. The effect was immediate; the crowd gasped, roaring in surprise and Kaminari's eyes widened, which meant he didn't hit the puck at the correct angle and it went soaring off the table. Over the crowd it went, landing squarely in the wall.   Everything quieted down, all eyes trained on the disk stuck in the drywall. One minute passed, letting everything sink in before a chuckle could be heard coming from the omega who'd sent it there. It spread slowly, one by one the joy from the stupidity caused laughs to come from all around. Bakugo couldn't even help the laughter he let loose from the action. "Only an idiot could get it to stick in the wall!" He'd say later, after they'd been banned from that arcade for the next month, watching as static rose from the other blonde and caused their hair to fluff. But for now, they laughed together at the tie with the crowd, enjoying the time away from school.

"You guys," Kirishima said one day, a Tuesday after school, "You realize how you look, yeah?" Kaminari looked up from his small pile of blankets in the corner, raising an eyebrow. Bakugo flipped off the redhead, ignoring whatever he had to say. "What do you mean, Kiri?" Kaminari asked, snuggling down into the mass of blankets he'd arranged. "I mean you two are making it hard to believe you're platonic. Kaminari, you've made a nest." Kirishima didn't enjoy talking to his this way, but he deemed it necessary. Two Alphas in the same room as an Omega with a nest wasn't good; especially if they did end up being romantic. Bakugo would only get violent as is nature and Kirishima would rise to the challenge. "It's just somewhere to spend time together since that's kind of a thing we need to do." Kaminari shrugged, glancing at the other Alpha in the room. Bakugo was playing a handheld video game, uncaring of the rather domestic friend he had. "Yeah, that makes sense, but you don't get it." "Don't get what?" The two said, Bakugo glancing up at him again. "A nest means Kaminari might be going into heat soon. A nest is where they spend that heat." Kirishima said, gaze flicking rapidly between the two. Omegas tended to make nests where they felt safe, and it was super manly that Kaminari felt safe with his Fated one and his friend, but the connotations which were implied with building such a thing were devastating. "I'm so sorry, man! I didn't- Ah shit." Kaminari swore, already taking apart the nest with a blush. Bakugo stared at him, raising an eyebrow before turning back to his game. Kaminari was smart enough to not spend his heat with an Alpha until he was bonded, all it took was Kirishima pointing it out. "It's alright, dude!" Kirishima attempted to protest, only for Kaminari to scoop up his stuff and bolt out of the room, face red. "That's... Not what I meant?" "Great, he's fucking embarrassed." "I just wanted to know if I should go somewhere for a while! The sports festival is coming up and that's probably what's messed up his schedule." Kirishima pouted, "It'd be totally unmanly of me to come in between you bros." "There's nothing to come in between, Shitty hair! He's just a fucking stepping stone, I'd drop him if I could!" Kirishima doubted it but decided to keep quiet for the sake of their peace. Sports Festival training came bright and early tomorrow, and he didn't want to have burns to worry about.

As training picked up, time together became sparse. Their mornings were spent in class, their afternoons consisted of training, and in their evenings their friends surrounded them and they had to go to sleep shortly after dinner. What the pair didn't notice, by the odd combination of exhaustion and sleep deprivation, was that it took longer for them to begin fevering. From the beginning of the year when only two to three days without meaningful contact not accounting for stress would result in their fevers beginning, now was a different story. For a week they were separated, touching only during sparring matches, and the first touches of fever came upon the two. Kaminari fell during class, brain addled by the swarm of burning fever spreading throughout his body. Anything cold relieved it, from the breeze to the cool wall, yet he said nothing. Aizawa told Jirou, a Beta, to bring Kaminari to the nurse's office. Like he knew what happened. All things considered, it's likely he did. "Kaminari, you're burning up," Jirou hissed, helping to support his weight while they walked through the halls, "And you reek, seriously." Everywhere around them, Kaminari could smell the overbearing scent of Alpha, Alpha, Alpha. Tangy woods and incense, strong and musky. It surrounded him, but over every one of them, he could smell the lingering sweetness. He'd recognized it as Bakugo's this time, a byproduct of his quirk mixing with his scent, and he wanted to roll in it. To let it wash over him and overcome every other smell around them, including his own. What was he thinking?! "Holy crap- Kaminari, are you an omega?!" Jirou asked with a hiss, glaring at him. Kaminari only nodded weakly. "You're so stupid!" "Wh... Wheeyyyy..." He couldn't help but make the noise which never failed to make her laugh, even if it fit his weakened state. The classrooms they passed could probably smell him, so they needed to make it quick. "Pffft- Kaminari, don't make me drop you! We're gonna get you to the nurse's office." It wasn't far, not incredibly so. A few minute's walks at most. But the stairs were the biggest hurdle. "T-Talk to me?" Kaminari asked, and Jirou rolled her eyes, obliging the Omega this one time. "Fine. You know Yaomomo? She's really pretty, isn't she? I just. Feel drawn to her. If this sports festival doesn't go well for her, it might break her. I know I'm screwed, but she... She has so much potential. I've got no chance with someone like that." Her blush could be felt through his clothes, with his arm draped over her shoulder, "I mean seriously! How can someone be so perfect?! It's not fair to us lesbians out there!" Kaminari wondered if it was just the idea that the whole class was possibly into members of the same gender and nature, or if it was just his friends. Beta couples were considered taboo if the parties were of the same gender, which was supposedly for breeding purposes. If they couldn't breed, it wasn't right in the eyes of the world, unfortunately. Things had become better in recent years, but only marginally.   The exception to the rule, mostly, would be considered Fated Ones. Things were different for Betas, they didn't get the fevers Alpha/Omega pairings did; in fact, no physical signs were prominent in Beta Fated ones at all. Jirou continued her talking, mumbling, and ranting. "I bet she has someone already. She's rich, beautiful, kind, caring, sweet, she's smart and she's got this cute little smile when someone uses something she made. She stays up all night looking for good compounds to be more useful- Oh, we're here." Kaminari hadn't noticed either, but there they stood in front of Recovery Girl's office. The sign said Recovery Girl wasn't in at the moment but would return shortly. Jirou helped him in and set him down on a bed, sitting across from him and crossing her legs with a blush. "Kaminari?" "Wheey?" "If you ever speak a word of this to anyone, I'll never forgive you." A wave of heat washed over the omega, stinging and burning him. He whimpered, his scent filling the room and making the girl cover her nose. "Ugh, you're definitely going into heat. No wonder you've been so useless recently." Kaminari gripped the blanket on the bed, shaking as the wave passed. It hurt, physically hurt. He knew he'd start leaking soon if he didn't get a suppressant and going into full heat in school was a big no. "Oh, welcome back." Recovery girl said upon her swift return, "I see you're going into heat, dearie." "C-Can I get a su... Suppressant...?" The need to find an Alpha, any Alpha- His Alpha- Was slowly consuming him. Recovery girl nodded, opening a drawer and grabbing a sterilized needle before filling it with liquid from a bottle in the cabinet below. "This is going to hurt a little bit. Jirou, please stay here and escort Kaminari to one of the protective rooms located on floor six of your dormitory immediately afterward." "Yes, ma'am." She sterilized his arm, and the contact made him whine. He just wanted to go home, grab an Alpha and curl up. The shot felt like Todoroki's ice, sending a spire straight into his arm and through his veins. Cold fire. His fever began lowering, and Jirou hauled him up. Time to go.

Bakugo hated this. Of course, Kaminari had gone into heat before they'd been able to have some contact time. He was forced to barge into Sero and Kaminari's room, ignoring the indignant squawk from Sero, and search for something - Anything at all - to calm this down. A hoodie, a blanket, anything that had been covered in Kaminari's scent to chill his fevered body. He needed to be in top shape for the Sports Festival, which was only a week away. If he couldn't find something here, he'd have to go into the heat room for contact before the festival, which was not something he had plans to do. Instinct was something he'd never wanted to ignore, far from it, but he'd never mark up Kaminari if he had his way. Even so, he couldn't deny the Omega had his charms. Silly and playful, he knew how to help someone de-stress. "Dude!!" Sero yelled, snapping Bakugo out of his searching, "If you're looking for Kaminari's stuff, it's all in the wash! It reeked of his heat-" Bakugo growled, his hands twitching with the urgent need to blow Sero to smithereens. How was this guy smart enough to know when Kaminari needed help, but dumb enough to wash the things which would help him most? "O-Oh- Right!" Sero put his palm to his forehead, groaning. "You're Kaminari's- Right. Okay, I'll be right back. Stay here Bakugo!" Bakugo watched as Sero got up and ran out of the room, obviously going to Kaminari's heat room. What he planned on doing, Bakugo didn't know and that pissed him off. Who the hell was Sero to go into an Omega's heat room? Going into a heat room was reserved only for a mate and close family. No one else got to see them in such a vulnerable state. Often times, the Alpha of the house would sit outside the room for their protection and comfort. Bakugo assumed that's what happened in this case. He should be training, should be stretching and fighting Kirishima until both of them were bruised and exhausted. He had decided to take the time to spend with Kaminari so he could get his own calmness, only to find out Kaminari had gone into heat. Well, so much for that secret. "This had better be fucking good," He grumbled, "Or someone's gonna die." He caught a small whiff of Kaminari's scent in the room, now it lacked Sero's presence. Glancing around, he located the source as a box at the foot of the bed and got up to open it. Inside, he found plushies of various animals, but the most well-loved was a slightly ratty stuffed hedgehog. It was torn in many places, it's original color unknown. Possibly, it was once a tan, but it looked gray and dingy. Bakugo's hand glided over the fabric, feeling the frayed edges. Something had to be done about it. His first thought was to throw it away, but it was obvious how much care had gone into preserving the creature. Sloppy stitchwork held it together at the neck and its tiny tail. It might have been Kaminari's testing doll, he reasoned. He still had his at his house, as embarrassing as that thought was. A testing doll was a toy given to a child and told to take care of. The easiest way to see what nature someone would present as was to give them a toy, often a baby doll but some parents used soft plushies, and see how they cared for it. Alphas, like himself, carried the toy everywhere with them and protected it fiercely. He had a specific memory of putting his toy down to fight some older kids who had teased his friends and nearly sending one to the hospital when they tried to take his toy. Betas would often throw the toy around and discard it, tearing it or messing it up as most children often do. It never lasted. Omegas treated theirs like actual babies, and he'd seen one or two of kids from his childhood with their dolls. They pretended to feed the toy, to wash it, rock it to sleep and even made makeshift nests for it to 'sleep' in. If this toy was Kaminari's testing doll, then it would have been obvious of his status from the beginning. Bakugo knew what he had to do. He took a whiff of it, breathing in the scent and then shoved it into his bag, right before Sero reentered. "Bakugo, Bakugo! Good news!" He said, and Bakugo was right. Sero reeked of Omega heat, but his face wasn't blushing enough to have done or seen anything obscene. "And what the fuck is that?" "Ya know, you could stand to be a bit nicer. Kaminari's in a big down period until the suppressants Recovery Girl gave him wears off. He's heading down here in a few minutes!" Bakugo knew Sero was a bit of a dumbass, he somehow just attracted them like magnets, but despite being a mediator within their group he had very little situational awareness. "Oh, you're speechless. I know, I'm pretty cool, but I'll be back! I gotta get some food for Kaminari since he hasn't eaten since breakfast. So stay put and wait for Kaminari." As if Bakugo had to listen to him. But Kaminari's scent of stormy air, thunderstorms and cactus fruit filled the room in no time, and the blonde appeared with a yawn in the doorway. He wasn't wearing much, which wasn't the issue at hand. What was, in fact, the issue, was that Kaminari looked too good in Bakugo's shirt. It hung off his shoulders and fell around his thighs, which were very, very bare. His blonde hair fell in front of his face, the lightning bolt masking the tired yellow eyes. "Hi..." Kaminari said with a meek little voice, cheeks pink as he stepped towards Bakugo, who merely sat there, stunned. Holy shit. He smelled so good, which only got better the closer he came. From pure energy came a domesticity he hadn't expected, the scent of hot chocolate, like a warm blanket which made him want to pin him down and hide him away. The Omega seemed on the same track, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. "C'mon, you never smelled an Omega in heat before? Here I was, thinking you could handle anything." Bakugo twitched at the obvious challenge and sat down on the mattress, growling and pulling the blonde against him. Kaminari trilled, pulling his legs up towards his chest and nuzzling him. The hand which wasn't holding his went to cling to the uniform shirt and Bakugo had to look away. The fever was dying down for both of them, filling Bakugo with an energy he didn't have before. Every second in that furnace sapped his energy away, leaving him drained and tired. Kaminari, with his electric quirk and status as his fated one, was the medicine for just such an ailment. It would be better if Bakugo kept his mouth shut. The silence of the room save for their breathing was nice, and one hand rested itself against Kaminari's calf as the other supported his back. Bakugo leaned back against the wall and listened. Just listened to their breathing and appreciated the warmth against him while ignoring the pounding of his chest. If he'd looked, he'd see Kaminari's eyes drooping more and more with each passing second. He'd see flushed cheeks and light scarring over his legs and hands, which Kaminari couldn't feel the touch on. He'd get to watch Kaminari fall asleep, safe in his arms as he fell into slumber himself.

Bakugo was livid. No, livid wasn't the right word nor phrasing. He was wroth with indignation, murderous seething. If someone dared to approach the Alpha, especially after his false victory against Todoroki, they'd likely end up dead. Kaminari risked it. He'd been in the medical room until Midnight's quirk wore off, he'd waited and watched in abject horror as they strapped Bakugo down and into that thing to hold his hands safely. Bakugo had a tendency to be violent, yes, but nothing which deserved that treatment. So after the festival ended and the medals awarded, Bakugo sat in the ready room with that stupid metal in his mouth and a growl upon his lips. Midnight stood in the room, watching him with the key to his restraints, and her gaze only wavered when Kaminari tentatively opened the door. "Kaminari, you should be with the rest of your class," The woman said, looking back to Bakugo who snarled at Kaminari and her, "He's in a rage, he will kill you." "I'm not that worried, Ma'am." Kaminari shrugged, "Katsuki knows better than to hurt me." It was the first time he'd ever said Bakugo's first name, but it felt right to say. "As wonderful and innocent as you are, you're sorely mistaken." She insisted, "Leave or I will be forced to remove you." "Please, miss Midnight! Just five minutes. Five minutes and I'll leave? He's my soulmate-!" He knew playing that card was dirty and underhanded, but the need to calm down Bakugo came before that moral. He watched as Midnight's eyes widened familiarly, obviously holding back a squeal about young love or something or other entirely false. "Five minutes, dear. If he attempts to hurt you, he's going back under, understand?" Kaminari beamed, walking over to Bakugo and sitting across from the thrashing boy, reaching up to pat his head gently. He took a foot to his gut and coughed, yet pressed on and carefully carded his fingers through Bakugo's hair. Bakugo stilled, eyes trained on Kaminari as a fierce growl came again, but Kaminari smiled in the face of it and pet him carefully. He'd seen couples stroke their Alpha's shoulders to help calm them and rein them in, but he'd always wondered if petting did the same. If anything, it let Bakugo become accustomed to his touch without putting himself in harm's way. "Hey, Bakugo." He whispered, "I know you're pissed; What Todoroki did was completely unfair to you. But you'd beat him either way, yeah? You're the best. You looked so cool out there, it's undeniable that you're the champion." Bakugo's growl weakened, though his rage remained. Everything Kaminari was doing, from the light touches and running his fingers through his hair to the words he said, he felt praised and like he'd done something amazing. Even if he hadn't. This wasn't a good fight, he'd won but it felt hollow. "Go home and die," He ordered, muffled from the ribbon in his mouth. He grit his teeth and watched the omega flinch and force himself to disobey. It reminded him that this omega in front of him had been a beta not long ago, unhinged by alpha voices. "Not unless you're going home with me, okay?" Kaminari grinned and chuckled softly, the tail ends of his heat scent still clinging to him. Bakugo turned his head, pressing his face against the palm of the other's hand and breathed in deeply. His head was clearing, the air felt less tense and stuffy. The second he sees Todoroki next, they know it'll be gone again, but the thought was pressed to the back of their minds. "You're a fucking idiot," Bakugo mumbled, the medal hitting his chest as he pulled his foot back, which had been keeping Kaminari at a distance. "I know, but I'm your idiot. And you're my Alpha, like it or not, hero." This time, they heard Midnight's squeal over their affections. They both understood how useless it'd be to explain to Midnight of all people that they were strictly platonic, but they'd try nonetheless as she unlocked Bakugo's restraints. They walked out to the front gates, and the guards outside his room flinched as soon as Kaminari walked out. Bakugo almost asked what the hell he'd done to make pros flinch like that, but let silence fall. Freedom was something you didn't know how much you appreciated until it was taken away. He set off a few practice explosions in his hand, lowgrade and more of firecrackers, but it proved to him he'd be alright to use his quirk if need be. Like to kick the shit out of the half and half bastard when they got back. He'd need his hands too, for punches and throws. But mostly, he needed them right now to hold Kaminari's.

Shopping wasn't Bakugo's favorite thing to do. In fact, he hated it. Hated the hustle and bustle of the mall, hated the way every clothes store advertised things which would make even Midnight embarrassed and the worst part was the kids. Loud, bratty kids yelling and running around. They were too young to take scent suppressants like most of the Alpha and Omega population, so their childish scents often set off omegas into wanting kids regardless of age. Going with Kaminari was, blissfully, an exception to the last note. Having spent so long as a Beta before presenting, Kaminari was less affected by those urges outside of his cycle. Normally. But this wasn't a normal day, oh no. It was the day Kaminari had his first menstruation cycle. Omega's menstruation cycles didn't include bleeding, thankfully, but all the symptoms were shared. The cramping, the bloating and acne, the sugar craving, the hormonal arousal while simultaneously not wanting to be touched. And of course, the mood swings. Kaminari knew how to keep those to a minimum, yet it still irked them both. They'd gone out to the mall with the explicit intent of buying items to exchange for the duration of the internship. Neither of them wanted to be dragging on during that time, so it needed to happen. "Bakugo," Kaminari said while holding up possibly the stupidest blanket Bakugo had ever seen, since it was made of denim, "How about this? You decided on Best Jeanist, right?" "Fuck off, that's so stupid!" "So do you want something soft?" Kaminari asked, "Since we decided on blankets." "I don't fucking know, go pick something." Bakugo watched Kaminari fold the denim blanket up again before he ran off, which made him roll his eyes. He knew what he'd be getting Kaminari, especially since the omega had been having issues falling asleep. Something about cramps. This store, which had a plethora of blankets which could even be customized to a degree, had a section just for electric blankets. He'd ordered one online, in black, which could both heat itself up and cool itself down based on what someone set it to. Such a great thing, technology. And it was soft, or so he'd been told, so it would be good for cuddling, even though the word left a bad taste in his mouth. He walked to the register and asked for his purchase, which had been shipped to the store. They had to scent the blankets to hell within the next forty-eight hours, so Kaminari had to finish picking something out and soon. Kaminari had the same thoughts, roaming through the aisles and feeling over every single blanket. He needed to get the perfect one for Bakugo, something he'd actually want to use without his scent on it, yet made better by it. With all the different fabrics, of cotton comforters and soft furs or silky satins, he knew what he wanted for Bakugo. Fur. Everything about Bakugo screamed he'd need a fur blanket. Something smooth and soft, which he could press his face into while being non-flammable. Kaminari had one at his house made of otter faux fur, which was smooth and matted down yet still soft enough to warrant his curling up on it. But this was Bakugo he was buying it for. And then he saw, right in the back, a blood red silk blanket with a cream fur binding and underside. There were what looked like dark red scorch marks on the red of it, covering black twisted tree-like figures and blending them together.  Kaminari noticed the sign said reassembly. Blankets which were destroyed or damaged being assembled together for resale, though this clearly didn't belong there based on the quality of the silk. Perfect. He picked it up and felt it's weight, at least fifteen to twenty pounds, and noticed it'd been filled with beading in little pockets. An anxiety blanket. "Bakugo might hate me for this, but it's worth it," Kaminari said to himself, walking towards the register with his prize in hand. He couldn't smell Bakugo anywhere, so he assumed the other teen had decided to wait outside for him. The woman at the register raised her eyebrows at his pick, asking if he really wanted that blanket. "Yes, I do, ma'am." Kaminari beamed. "Are you sure? It's expensive." "I don't care about the price, it's worth it." The woman sighed and rung him up, making Kaminari blink twice at the total. Only just over twelve thousand seven hundred yen? In American dollars, that would be a hundred and twelve dollars. Wasn't as expensive as he expected it to be, considering the fabric it was made of. The woman's eyes widened in shock as he handed her his card to pay for the item, humming a little tune to himself. She bagged it, double bagged it even in a fabric bag and handed it to him. Before leaving, he turned to the woman and smirked. "Ya know, you should charge more for a mash-up of not one, but two M.B. fabric blankets. Have a nice day!" He could see the light leave her eyes and returned to Bakugo who had, indeed, decided to wait outside for him. "What took you so fucking long?" Bakugo sneered. "Sorry, it was heavy! And it took a while to find the right thing. Mind if we get something to eat here? I'll pay!" Bakugo shrugged, the sneer leaving his face. "Whatever. Let's just go get some ice cream or something." They decided on frozen yogurt and ate in the cafeteria of the mall. Booths in the corner of the rooms were amazing, truly. No one recognized them from the sports festival. Kaminari had gotten cotton candy flavor with blueberries, chocolate and caramel drizzle, and pop rocks. Bakugo got the only spicy flavor they had, the weekly special of hot pepper, and chocolate drizzle on top of his red treat. Mostly they ate in silence until Kaminari noticed Bakugo had some of the frozen desserts on the corner of his lip. So, like any normal human being, he reached over and wiped it away with his thumb, earning a growl from the other and a grip on his wrist. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He hissed, red eyes flaming in indignation. "You had some on your cheek, that's all!" Kaminari smiled, "Thought I'd help." Bakugo let him go with a huff and a wave, so Kaminari considered himself lucky. Then, like an idiot, he licked the bit on his thumb to clean it and the spice overtook his mouth in an instant as tears came to his eyes from the burning. He quickly scooped up his own dessert and ate quickly, attempting to wash the sensation down and away but only succeeding in spreading it throughout his mouth and giving him a horrible brain freeze. Bakugo chuckled at the sight; Kaminari had pink and blue frozen yogurt all over his lips and cheeks, smeared with brown and tan. His hands clutched his head, hissing and crying over the heat. Honestly, it was funny. The chuckle turned into a snicker, then to a roaring laugh at his misery. The electrical idiot deserved it, and he told him as such. Of course, he could hand him the milk he'd also gotten to relieve one of his issues, but he enjoyed watching him suffer for a while. When else would he get this chance? When Kaminari started crying in earnest, shoulders shaking and chest heaving slightly, Bakugo passed him the drink. Kaminari downed it almost instantly, finally getting some relief from the heat. It didn't help the brain freeze, but it was a start. Somehow, the day carried on and on. From the cafeteria, they walked around the mall once more and Bakugo got to watch Kaminari try on some new summer pajamas for the upcoming season. They laughed at stupid, tacky home decor in shops and they stopped at the arcade in the mall with the promise of not playing air hockey for the safety of the walls. Before they knew it, the hours had passed by and the sun had started sinking upon the horizon. At some point, it stopped being a 'run in, run out and get ready' day, changing to something where they could hang out. It became more about spending time together because they wanted to, not because they had to. They rarely touched, but knowing the other was right there next to them was enough. It pleased Bakugo's inner Alpha to watch Kaminari having such a fun time, despite the cramps which came from the sugary treats, and it pleased Kaminari's inner Omega, even more, to watch Bakugo being content in his presence. On this day, something shifted in the two, though they would not yet realize how important it was for some time.

"You need to pay fucking attention!" Bakugo yelled, using the textbook to hit the back of the omega's head, "Or there's no way in hell you'll pass the practical final!" "I know, I know!" Kaminari said, "I'm trying my best here, dang it!" "Your dumb ass will be lucky to pass at this rate." Bakugo growled, "Now do it again, using the formula I just taught you, and you'll be fine!" "Okay, okay!" Kaminari had the lowest grades in class, though it wasn't a huge margin. He often got b minus's or c's in everything except math, which he failed every time, English and Modern or Classic lit which were the only classes he had perfect scores in. It wasn't enough, however, in comparison to the top of his class, who almost always got perfect one hundreds plus extra credit work for finishing early and explanations, it was appallingly bad. He needed to pass this test with flying colors, because he wanted to go to the training camp and if he failed the practical his anxiety would get the better of him for the physical. Problems of being in class A, he assumed. He couldn't focus, tapping against the table to work through the problem in front of him. Some stupidly complicated calculus stuff, or so he assumed. Written questions, /words/ he could understand. Math had always, always been a struggle for him. They never clicked in his head, and he often had to count on his fingers. He'd been diagnosed with the equivalent of number dyslexia some four years ago, but it still bothered him. Dyscalculia. Such a weird word.   And he didn't know how to tell Bakugo about it since the Alpha was so set in his ways he would have no chance of budging. How did he even try breaching that concept? "Why the fuck are you taking so long?" Bakugo growled, slamming his English textbook shut. "Because it doesn't make sense, okay?!" Kaminari yelled right back at him, his scent flaring. He'd spent all day here since he woke up, even though Kirishima left for this session because of privacy reasons, until now and it was Sunday. He'd been there yesterday and the day before after school, too. None of the math made sense! "I just explained this to you, fucker!" "It's not my fault, okay!?" "And how the fuck is it not?!" "Because I have number dyslexia! It doesn't make sense!" Kaminari's stress finally boiled over, and tears came to his eyes. Words made sense to him, even if it was math in a word problem, it came easier to him. Bakugo didn't say anything, grabbing the mock test he'd given Kaminari to work through and looking it over. Everything was written out correctly, so it should be simple for someone to make it through, he thought. Now it made sense why Kaminari always bombed math tests. "Give me ten minutes, Sparky." Bakugo grabbed one of his pillows and shoved it in Kaminari's face, letting him cuddle that for a while whilst he worked. Bakugo grabbed two pieces of paper and started writing. He'd noticed from helping him since the beginning of the year that things worked better if plainly laid out for Kaminari. On one page, he wrote out the questions again in word form as best he could, listening to the Omega sniffle in the background. He'd need to wash that pillow. On the other page, he wrote out the formula and how to work through the problems so Kaminari wouldn't have to rely on his memory. Of course, it wouldn't work for the test, but if he could let Ectoplasm know about it maybe Kaminari would be given a test better suited for him. He'd seen Kaminari be really smart, in hero studies and with his school life; things sometimes had to be laid out plainly for him, that's all. He had the potential to be really smart, for fuck's sake he'd seen Kaminari read the Epic of Gilgamesh and the entire works of Shakespeare in old English without needing to translate anything. Anyone who could read those things without needing it to be put into their first language for them had to be some kind of intelligent. In ten minutes, not a second longer, Bakugo handed the worksheets to the sniffling Omega. "Here. Try these, idiot." Kaminari looked at the pages and his eyes widened, his scent filling the room of cactus fruit again with a hint of vanilla. Bakugo had a very happy Omega on his hands, and something within him preened that he'd been able to turn him from crying to smiling in a short amount of time. Kaminari did much better on this test, smiling and enjoying going through the questions with a trill. An Alpha, his Alpha, had gone out of his way to help him. It made his face flush with happiness, a new warmth spreading throughout his body. Not a fever, nor stress or heat, but it made him giddy and embarrassed. Bakugo graded the paper and Kaminari asked if they could take a break for a while, crawling over to where the Alpha sat. They didn't need to have contact, but it felt nice even without a fever. Bakugo let Kaminari crawl in between his legs and snuggle himself against his chest, and one of his arms went to wrap around the omega instinctively as he went to a different textbook. This had become Kaminari's new favorite thing to do; randomly cuddle up to him whenever they were in the vicinity of one another and listen to his heart. Something about it making him feel safe and cared for or whatever. Kaminari pawed at his chest, imitating a cat's kneading motion as if he demanded the Alpha's undivided attention. Bakugo felt his face heating, his hands twitched and he lost focus in his reading. This wasn't good. He knew the black-streaked blonde would quickly fall asleep if given the chance, and all opportunity to study would be lost for the idiot. "Fuck it," Bakugo swore under his breath, closing the textbook and leaning back against the side of his bed. At the moment, the Omega in his arms was more important. He knew he'd ace both the practical and the physical, whatever it may be. He let his newly freed hand reach up to Kaminari's head and stroked his hair, listening to the soft purr he earned in response. He was in too deep if the Omega could manipulate him so easily. Kaminari glanced up at Bakugo, a feeling similar to butterflies filling his stomach. The Alpha had listened to him? Really? Happiness even bigger than before filled him, overwhelming joy expressed in his smile. Bakugo, the Alpha of all Alphas, really listened to him. Not even his own family did that. He realized what the feeling was, remembering something Jirou had mentioned about Yaoyorozu. 'She makes me feel butterflies, Kami! Butterflies! Ugh, it's so gross. I love her. I hate her. She is too good for me and I do not deserve to be in her presence!' Shit. He'd fallen in love with Bakugo. That's why, at the mall, he'd been okay with doing whatever the Alpha wanted to do during the day. It's why he felt happier knowing Bakugo was happy. Shit. Fuck. This was bad. But he couldn't pull away even if he wanted to, which he most certainly did not. Because Bakugo seemed fine with him there and hadn't pushed him away. To squander this opportunity despite its frequency would be idiotic, even for him. They had to keep this platonic. For their respective futures as heroes, they really shouldn't be doing this. Kaminari really shouldn't be pondering the idea of what a future would look like for them as partners. Should not be imagining a first date or a wedding and he definitely should not be thinking about how he wouldn't mind being pregnant if it was Bakugo's. Wait, they'd kind of already been on their first date, hadn't they? Would it have counted as a date? Kaminari hadn't intended going to the arcade that day as a date, more of an excuse to have fun with someone who he cared about, but it could be interpreted as such. And with the blankets from the internships on one another's beds, with the electric blanket being a rather large part of the makeshift nest there, that could be seen as part of their second date. Had they been dating all along without even realizing it?! Was this a study date? Kaminari's mind was reeling, but the hand stroking his head and playing with his hair slowly brought him back down to earth. His eyes started drooping, deciding to put the topic away for a while and go limp, clinging to the Alpha and breathing in the scent of burnt rubber and marshmallows. This, this had been what he craved for so long. Bakugo had fallen, fallen hard. Looking back, he figured out exactly when he started to open up to Kaminari. It had been back when the omega had gone into heat and fallen asleep against his chest. Everything had been good in their little world. Until Kirishima came in and woken them up, and Bakugo was still pissed about that. The Omega had too much power over him; if he so much as asked, Bakugo would do almost anything. Such a control was terrifying to most. How could one person be so precious that you'd do anything to see them happy? His mother told him, when he and his Fated One spent time together, it was more precious than any bond in the world. People in the past killed over such a thing, now Bakugo saw why. The smile and happiness of his omega became the biggest priority, and his protection came above his own. That's part of what made a hero. Protecting people, especially those who they cared about and making the world a better place for them.

Kaminari had failed the exam, both parts of it. He'd done excellently in English, snagging the second highest grade out of the entire first-year class regardless of course, but it had not been able to make up for his lack of math skills. He felt ashamed, even if he did get to go to the training camp. Bakugo had even helped him study, but he'd still failed. So after going on a group shopping trip, he locked himself in his house after moving back in for the summer. Altria said she was happy to see him, patted his head and helped keep his head up. It didn't do a lot. He missed his friends, missed living with them and for the life of him, he hadn't been able to find Herbie, his stuffed hedgehog, no matter how hard he looked. After two days of his moping and refusal to answer his phone for calls or texts, Altria decided to take matters into her own hands and invite some of his friends over. Kaminari had been less than pleased since the news of his friend's visiting came with a different visit; from his mother. She'd moved away to America just under ten years ago, but they'd had phone calls and skype calls on the regular. He preferred her much more than he did his father and stepmother. The woman could walk into a room and it would light up, not just from her electricity quirk. The Bakusquad arrived first, thankfully. His mother's stuff had arrived that morning, which Altria put upstairs for her, so his friends didn't get to realize her presence until she came home. "Kaminari!!" Ashido yelled, running into the house and tackling him. "You ass, you didn't tell us you were a rich boy!" True, he was. His father ran Denki Electronics, which meant he was technically rich although he didn't flaunt it. His house was nice though, if not a little empty. Sleek, modern, with a pool and a floor walled mostly with glass. Bakugo tsked, while Sero and Kirishima looked around while oohing and ahhing. "Dude isn't this super cool?! That's- Holy. Hhhhhhhhhaa... Holy shit, bro." Kirishima had spotted one of the trinkets Altria had insisted on putting out when she moved in to watch Kaminari; In particular, a limited edition Crimson Riot figurine with his engraved signature. Kaminari was still processing that he currently had three Alphas and a Beta in his house, one of which he was hopelessly in love with. "Uh. Yeah." Kaminari said from the floor, Ashido sitting up and pouting before standing. "I think you broke Kiri," She commented, helping the omega up. Bakugo growled at her lowly, triggering her to growl right back. Sero and Kaminari rolled their eyes; Alphas had displays of dominance all the time, and if Kirishima wasn't busy inspecting the figurine as if it were the man himself he likely would have joined and a wrestling match would break out. "Guys, C'mon," Sero sighed, "Best behavior, remember? Do I have to tape you apart- Kirishima, don't even think of touching it." The Beta didn't even need to look at the redhead to know he was about to move it from its place to get a closer look in his giddiness. Kaminari looked between the two Alphas who were glaring one another down, filling the room with their scents and decided it'd be easier to focus on Kirishima. "You can have it, man." Kirishima's red eyes widened, his hands shook and he stared at Kaminari. "Really, bro? I don't wanna take it from you-" "Nah, it's fine. There are a few different ones strewn about the house of different heroes. Dad bought them from a charity auction to give to my stepmom, and she gave them to me because otherwise, she'd break them since she hates heroes." Kaminari explained, "So yeah, bro. Take it if you want it." Sero was too busy physically separating Ashido and Bakugo to pay attention, but Bakugo's attention was diverted the second Kirishima rushed forward to hug the omega, nuzzling into his shoulder and dangerously close to his scent glands and neck. "Oh my god, I love you so much Kami!" Kirishima held the omega tightly, who only laughed and hugged him back. "Love you too, but no romo, bro." "Totally!" Bakugo started stomping over, his growling and snarling reminding Kaminari a bit of the sport's festival, only to be taped back by Team Mom, aka Sero. "What is your problem today, man?" Sero asked, "Both you and Ashido have been all growly and competitive since this morning!" Kaminari pulled away from the hug with Kirishima to silently ask for confirmation. All he received was a shrug and a grimace. Then Kaminari smelled it, the tang of earthy musk which tainted the room. It wasn't Kirishima, who smelled like a pine forest or a mountain range, but it was intoxicatingly good. His face heated up, a soft whine escaping his throat and simultaneously, everyone realized what was going on. Bakugo and Ashido were both close to their ruts, which often insinuated challenges, especially over Omegas like Kaminari. They saw any other Alpha as a threat, potentially, and things could get bloody fast. They were maybe a month out, at most. Sero retracted his tape from the two, sighing. He couldn't do much about it if that was the case. "Sorry," Ashido grumbled, "Can't help it." Bakugo glared both her and Kirishima down before Kaminari broke the tension. "Hey, guys, let me show you around yeah? Just, remind me why you're here again?" He and Bakugo had made plans to meet up at Bakugo's house for contact time every three days, but he didn't know why the others decided to drop by. "Oh yeah!" Kirishima said, grinning with Sero, "A girl named Altria invited us! Said you weren't feeling so happy; So we're taking you out today!" "I can't." Kaminari denied, watching their smiles falter and Bakugo's gaze narrowing. "Why not?" Ashido asked, already returning to her normal self for a brief period, "C'mon, go with us!" "It's just, my mom is. Uh. Can we please move this to the living room?" Once they nodded, Kaminari showed him to the room in question, which had a scent purifier. It meant there could be an Omega on the verge of heat and an Alpha in Rut and neither would be the wiser by scent; great things, really. They each took seats on the leather couches, while Kaminari sat next to wherever Bakugo was. There would be no explosions on the nice couches. "So, your mom." Ashido prodded, "What's up?" "She's coming to visit, that's what." "She doesn't live here with you?" Kirishima asked, looking around with the others. It was a spacious, cold place. Nothing was warm or homey about it; he couldn't even see a single photo around. "Nope, she's lived in America since I was about seven, after her and my dad divorced. She's coming here today, and we were gonna, ya know, spend the day together. I'm gonna help her pick a wedding dress." They stared at him, though Bakugo's was more since Kaminari had draped his legs over his lap. "Dude, that's..." Ashido said, glancing away. "Kinda sad. We can go so you can spend the day with your mom?" Sero offered, but Kaminari shrugged. "Nah, I like hanging out with you guys. Besides, she's not supposed to be here for an hour or so and Altria's out." "Who is that, anyway?" Bakugo growled. "She's kinda the resident adult? She basically makes sure I don't do a bunch of stupid things while I'm home, but she's visiting her sister right now. Don't worry, she's a Beta." Kaminari chuckled, and Bakugo softened a smidge. "Okay, so back on the topic of your mom," Ashido said, leaning forward, "Sell me on her romance. You've met the guy, right?" "Weeeeeellllllll..." Kaminari grinned awkwardly, "He kinda hates me, but yeah I've met the guy." "How the heck could he hate you? He's marrying your mom!" Sero and Kirishima exclaimed, shocked by the revelation. The omega merely shrugged, "Cause I'm my dad's kid, and I'm an Omega. See, he uh. He's known my mom since they were in middle school, and he's liked her since then but she went and married my dad, who she met while at a party. And he's got the whole 'Omegas shouldn't want to be a hero or any kind of powerful position' mentality BS." "So you're going to America for the wedding?" Ashido asked, cutting off the boys before they had a chance to react. Kaminari shook his head and smiled, sinking against the leather of the couch. "Nope. Can't." "What the fuck do you mean 'can't'!?" Bakugo growled possessively, "Why the fuck not?!" "The fuck I mean is, when she gets remarried she loses me. I don't get to see her again, ever. Her new husband made a deal with my dad; he'd fully break off their bond, so she can live her life, but I'm part of that bond. For her happiness, because I love her, I'm letting her go." Golden eyes were lightly trimmed with tears, and the Omega was being pulled against Bakugo's chest protectively. There were mumbles all around on how bullshit the situation was; no mother would want to give up on their child, but it seemed Kaminari's mother was either oblivious or didn't care as much. The doorbell rang, causing Bakugo and Ashido to growl loudly. Kirishima snarled and Sero sighed, putting on his best grin and told Kaminari he'd get the door. Soft whispers floated around the room, filling the silence with comforting words. Kaminari knew it was his mom at the door; Altria had a key and no one else would have a reason to be here. So when Sero returned with a woman behind him, no one was surprised at her presence. They were, however, mildly shocked by her looks and scent. With her long blonde hair reaching her waist, gorgeous eyes colored liquid gold, a dusting of freckles over her rosy cheeks and delicate frame, it was no mystery Kaminari got his looks from his mother. Her lilac dress swayed around her ballet flats, pairing well with an orange bow in her hair. Her scent, however, filled the doorway with warmth. Hot chocolate and cinnamon, bathed in fresh baked cookies. "Denki!" The woman exclaimed, rushing over to the couch where her son sat. Bakugo felt a swift shock and let him go, allowing him to stand and hug the woman. Kaminari was slightly smaller than her, and they both flooded the room with pheromones which overpowered the purifier. "Hi mom," Kaminari said, ignoring his friends' staring. Time to put on a brave face. "You've gotten so tall; I can't believe how long it's been." Her voice was like satin over a waterbed, something which sunk in and comforted someone even if she spoke an entirely different language. "Well, dad wouldn't let you see me either way, would he?"   "No, he really wouldn't. Now, introduce me to your friends!" They broke their hug and Kaminari grinned, hiding his previous crying with a blush. "Right. Mom, this is Sero, he's the only Beta, the rest are Alphas. That's Kirishima, Ashido, and Bakugo! Guys, this is my mom." "Pleasure to meet you all. My name's Holly. Denki, we really should be going or we'll be late." Kaminari glanced at the clock and a spark came from the omega, frizzing him and his mother's hair. The appointment was in an hour! "Gotta go! You guys are welcome to stay as long as you'd like; make yourselves at home!" Kaminari grabbed Holly's hand, rushing to the door. The remaining Bakusquad was confused. What just happened? They hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello or for Bakugo to rat the woman out for alienating her son. "What the hell?!" Ashido and Bakugo yelled as Kirishima and Sero watched the empty doorway. "More like, what the hell is up with her pacing? We could've at least talked, but no, we're left alone again." Sero rolled his eyes. "Well, we can go look around? Kami did say we could." Kirishima suggested, watching his friends growling. He didn't think Bakugo was almost rutting since the earthy scent wasn't coming from him, but he could be wrong. "Yeah! Let's go find Kaminari's room!" Sero wasn't sure Kaminari would come home to find the place intact, with how everyone was acting.

The training camp, on its own, had been incredibly stressful. The attack only made things worse, with tensions high and everyone's worries even higher. Bakugo's kidnapping made Kaminari's head want to explode. How dare they?! Who gave them the right to take him away from the class?! Everyone had been in and out of the hospital save for a select few, for reasons of them being unconscious. They'd been checked over for shock and other injuries, which had been particularly invasive for those of the female and omega variety. It had only begun to sink in what happened for some. Kirishima had been the most torn up next to Midoriya over the ordeal. Sero seemed confused on why Kaminari wasn't in worse shape, but Recovery Girl had explained very briefly during his time checked into the hospital. As long as Bakugo wasn't in distress, he shouldn't get a horrible fever. So Kaminari took a slight comfort in it, letting his body react how it would usually. The heroes would get Bakugo back, he just knew it. Let them do their job. You don't let a medical student perform life-saving surgery in their first year, he assumed. But he had noticed his nose becoming more and more sensitive since then as if his body had gone into high alert. Everyone smelled so much more intense, it bothered him, which changed his scent and set off the Alphas around him. Everything culminated to a peak when Midoriya woke up in the hospital, the morning of the second day of Bakugo's absence. Kirishima attempted to convince them to go rescue Bakugo, going behind the hero's backs and taking their own action. They'd trained enough, they'd fought in the forest, but Kaminari and the other students in supplementary classes knew why he acted this way. Kirishima felt hopeless, weak and powerless for not being able to do anything against the villains. It started consuming the Alpha, who had thrown down with almost everyone at least once by then since they'd been told to return to the dorms until further notice. Kaminari still had a few bandages from that fight, as did most of the Alphas. When he'd been told how stupid he sounded and told Midoriya he'd wait for him, Kaminari knew he had to do something. They were best friends, of course, Kirishima would understand. "Eiji!" Kaminari called, chasing after the Alpha as he exited the hospital. The rest of the class had decided to stay back and visit people, so they were alone. "What?!" Kirishima yelled, turning on the Omega. A new fire had been added to his scent, smothering it in smoke. It threatened to choke Kaminari as the wind blew around them. "You can't do this!" "Why not?! It's Bakugo, Denki! He's in trouble and we're heroes!" "That doesn't mean we can break the law! The teachers-" "Were supposed to protect us at the camp, and look what happened! How are we supposed to call ourselves men or heroes if we leave him there?!" "This isn't about your whacked sense of manliness! This isn't about your pride as a man; it's about trusting people to do their jobs!! Do you want to be a hero or a criminal?!" "You don't even give a crap about him, do you?! He's your soulmate, and you are content to leave him there and throw him away? You're such an idiotic coward!" Kaminari took slight offense to that, but the tears streaming down his face hid it. He couldn't breathe, could barely think; he wanted Bakugo back. He wanted it more than anything else in the world. He wanted to kiss all over that angry face as long as Bakugo would let him, he wanted to hug him and breathe in the scent he'd come to love so much and take him everywhere he'd never been. He wanted Bakugo safe and to never let him go or out of his sight. He missed him more than he missed his own mother, ten years versus two days. Through fuzzy eyes, he watched as Kirishima seemed shocked at what happened, tears brimming red eyes which seemed so similar to the one they were both missing. Had he said all that aloud? "I. I'm sorry, Denki- It's just. He's." Kaminari took a deep breath, standing tall and walking right up to the Alpha. He'd never been afraid to face down someone by their nature before, why stop now? He'd met Alphas who were the most gentle people he'd ever known, and Omegas who were fighters twice as good as any Alpha. So, he charged up his hand, and slapped the Alpha across the face with as much force as he could, though it wasn't as much as he wanted. Kirishima seemed to have anticipated the blow and prepared himself, so his skin met hard rock and sliced open, leaving a bloodied mark on his cheek. Kaminari didn't wince, staring the determined Alpha with a tear-filled look of his own, showing his stubborn side. "I love him, Eiji. I want him back just as much as you do, but I know he's not in distress, and going will only put him at more risk because we are students. We screw up! All the time! We /failed/ the final exam, /man/, so what do you expect to do against real-life villains? You could die or get Bakugo killed! Leave it to the pros, because they can make sure he comes home safer than we can." Kaminari turned to be on his way, facing the parking lot before Kirishima could say anything. The scent of smoke still flitted around them, making Kaminari's head dizzy. "Denki! Are you going to go tell Aizawa what I'm planning on doing?" Kirishima asked, his voice strained and Kaminari knew he was near sobbing; the smoke scent was more of a fire in the rain, muddier and hard to pick out. Kaminari sighed, fighting back another wave of his own tears. "I won't. I would never try to get you in trouble because you're important to me. We're friends. I'll stop anyone who tries to tell, even if it gets me in trouble." He heard Kirishima's sharp intake of breath, continuing before he could be cut off. "I hope everything turns out okay and he gets back safely, you have no idea how much I hope that. But, if someone gets hurt, don't come crying to me if you're even alive to do it." He didn't stay to watch Kirishima look at his retreating form, nor did he turn on the television at the dorms once he realized they weren't coming home that night, even if he stayed in the common room with his eyes on the door. No one entered, no one left.

Going to Bakugo's house and meeting his parents was an experience Kaminari hadn't expected to have until at the very least senior year. After thinking about it, it made sense. They needed to have some close contact at least once a week by now, and Bakugo was under house arrest for the next two weeks. So one of those weeks he needed to stop by, or else Bakugo and himself could get sick. That was the easy part. The hard part, of course, would be meeting his parents. Would they be like their son? They were probably both Alphas, he just knew it. Only two Alphas could make someone like Katsuki, especially with how explosive he tended to be. Would they like him? Would they hate him? They probably already hated him for not helping rescue their son. And maybe showing up in a town car wasn't the best idea, but he'd wanted to make a good impression. Even if it was stupid, and wearing a black silk and lace embroidered button up over jeans was equally stupid, it helped comfort him knowing he looked decent. He'd pinned back the side opposite his lightning bolt, even if it was extra overkill. A thought struck him as he rode, thinking that maybe they would expect him to be a traditional Omega: Small, weak, preferring soft and loose clothing to snuggle into. They'd be dead wrong, and no matter how much he wanted to please them it wouldn't change. He was soulmates with Bakugo, after all. He rang the doorbell with a smile to hide his anxiety. He hoped Bakugo would answer the door, drag him in and maybe up to his room- Okay, he needed to stop that train of thought before it left the station. Was it hot out here? Summer must be in full swing, then. The person who opened the door was a rather tall, muscular omega of a man. Kaminari gulped and waved, "Hi! My name's Kaminari Denki. I'm here to see Bakugo Katsuki?" The man merely smiled, his glasses slightly obscuring his face. He had brown hair which semi resembled Bakugo's, and a similar scent. Less of the burning and more caramel, though. "Oh, you must be the one Katsuki said was coming. Come in, come in. My name's Bakugo Masaru, nice to meet you." The man, Masaru, was so softspoken Kaminari would have had a hard time believing the two were related if not for their scents. "Nice meeting you too! Where's Katsuki?" Kaminari asked, stepping in and taking off his shoes. He was answered, however, not by Masaru but instead by a royally loud growl from the living room and the sound of something breaking. "DIE, OLD HAG!" Said a voice, and Kaminari knew it was Bakugo. Masaru began to apologize, but Kaminari waved him off. He'd been around Bakugo long enough to know being told to die was the same as being delivered a love letter or a declaration of war when it came to his confusing language. He peeked into the living room, however, and was only mildly shocked at the carnage and the force of the Alpha scent which hit him. That's where the burning came from. Smoke and ash came at him with a tang of sweetness and earthy undertones, though that last bit was likely Bakugo. The other scent must have been the woman he was violently wrestling, resulting in at least two shelves broken and the paper wall. The woman, likely his mother, looked exactly like a female Katsuki would. At least to Kaminari. She had the hair, the beautiful face, and the temper to boot. For every insult which her son threw at her, she had two and a physical combatant to boot. She currently had Bakugo down, her arm over his neck but a knee to the gut swiftly allowed Bakugo to take control of the situation with a body turn. One leg covered hers, his hands pinned hers down to the floor and his other foot was on her chest, cutting off her air supply. Bakugo looked like it might as well be Christmas; he was grinning like a madman, eyes wild with delight and Kaminari was sure the conductor would be pulling the train of thought out of the station if he wasn't in polite company. "I'm sorry, their scents can be a bit... Overwhelming." Masaru said, staring at his wife and son. Alphas often had shows of dominance like this, which is why he couldn't have anything nice unless it was stored away in his sewing room. Such is the life of a fashion designer. "I'm aware, I live with ten of them in the dorms and most of UA's teachers are Alphas. It's kinda crazy." Kaminari chuckled, and Masaru did the same. Somehow, this got the attention of the Alphas who had once more gotten into the thick of a match, causing them to separate. "Oh! You're here!" The woman said, grinning, "I'm Bakugo Mitsuki! You must be the Fated One, Kaminari, right?." Kaminari's face heated up, and he could hear Bakugo yelling at his mother, only to be hit on the back of the head and yelled at. Before he could say anything, his arm was being grabbed and he was being dragged away by a fuming Bakugo. The student, not either of the parents. "And where do you think you're going?" Masaru asked, raising an eyebrow. Kaminari was too stunned to do anything. "My room! I'm not a fucking idiot!" "Don't get him pregnant! I'm too young to be a grandma!" Mitsuki yelled, possibly loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Kaminari swore he could feel his brain frying. Oh, how embarrassing it would be to go dumb here and now. Bakugo only let him go when they were in the safety of his bedroom. Kaminari took a short opportunity to look around, seeing a few posters here and there. Mostly, he noticed hanging potted plants in almost every corner. There was an All Might figurine on the desk, next to the bed and a TV on a blank wall with a console set up. Next to the desk, on the other side, was a window and between that and the corner was a bookshelf. Overall, it wasn't incredibly different from his room at the dorms. "God, they're so fucking embarrassing!" Bakugo growled, and Kaminari realized the earthy scent was coming from him. Kaminari assumed his rut had been put off from the stress of what'd happened. "Nah, they're pretty cool." Kaminari chuckled, watching Bakugo blush up to his ears. "THEY ARE NOT FUCKING COOL!" Bakugo yelled, setting off a few explosions which made Kaminari flinch, though he covered it with a grin. "So, we gonna do this thing or what?" Bakugo stared at him for a moment, possibly thinking something else as he looked the Omega up and down. Kaminari looked delicious. His tight black shirt clung in all the right places, the jeans framed his thighs and ass like no tomorrow, and because he pinned part of his hair back, his face was more on display. He could see those cheeks tinted pink, covering the faintest of freckles from using his quirk. Bakugo had seen tree scars covering his arms and glimpses of his chest when in the locker room, but it slightly amazed him to see what happened to the other blonde's face after quirk usage. Everywhere the electricity struck over his face and neck, it became freckles. Almost like it didn't travel through there, but instead over and around. "Whatever, c'mere." Bakugo sat down on the bed, waving the Omega over. As delectable as he looked, his parents were still home and he hadn't even properly come to terms with the feelings. Kaminari's grin made his heart beat faster, and when he sat down on his lap, Bakugo wanted to scream. He wanted to pin the Omega to the bed and nuzzle his face in the pretty, exposed neck and he wanted to bite. Wanted everyone to know Kaminari belonged to him and no one else. Kaminari reached out to the blanket he'd gotten him, pulling the heavy blanket over himself to begin scenting it again. Bakugo wouldn't admit how much use the anxiety blanket had been getting since the incident. He also wouldn't admit how much it pissed him off that Kaminai had managed to get the only blanket in the entire damn mall made from his own family's designer fabric. No, he wouldn't mention it, because he knew Kaminari would smirk and say a breathy, 'I know~' and he kind of wanted his heart to keep beating, thank you very much. Can't be a hero if you're dead. The feeling of Kaminari wrapping his arms around his waist simultaneously sent a wave of heat and relief through him. Damn, he was getting near to his rut, wasn't he? Whatever, so long as it happened before he went back to the dorms, everything would be okay. He must have made a noise, or his scent otherwise changed, because Kaminari was purring and trilling against him. Those gold eyes stared up at him and Kaminari leaned back, straddling the Alpha. His ass met Bakugo's thighs in a way which definitely, certainly, would kill Bakugo if this continued. Kaminari's torso was pretty small, so even in this position, Bakugo had to look down just a bit to meet his eyes. "Can we try something new today?" Kaminari asked, albeit a bit shyer than normal. "Please?" "Depends on what the hell it is." Kaminari grinned and reached over to wrap his arms around Bakugo's shoulders, feeling him twitch underneath him, and pull him down against the mattress. Kaminari slid his legs back and pressed himself against Bakugo, whispering, "Turn around, okay?" The weight of the anxiety blanket made it hard to do so, and Bakugo growled at the Omega. He wasn't going to let anyone be behind him, not after how the summer began. No way in hell. So he forced Kaminari's arms off of him and turned the other blonde around instead. Kaminari yelped and squirmed but didn't fight it, realizing why the Alpha took such actions. "Stay," Bakugo growled, possessively pulling Kaminari in by his waist. The Alpha tone in his voice made Kaminari submit, stilling. "Bakugo..." Kaminari whispered, his heart beating fast and loud in his chest. "Call me Katsuki." "Then you need to call me Denki, okay?" "Nah, I'm going to keep calling you Sparky." "Wha- Why not?" "Cause you get annoyed by it." Kaminari wanted to zap him into next week, but he was enjoying this far too much. Bakugo was home, safe, and if he wanted Kaminari to call him Katsuki, then who was he to argue? "Katsuki," Kaminari had said his name before, for multiple reasons, but this was the first time when it felt truly intimate. He liked it. "I-" "Shut up, Sparky. You talk too damn much." So Kaminari silenced himself, listening to the sound of Bakugo's breathing and reveling in the idea of his safety. Everything was perfect, even if his confession had been cut off. They'd go back to the dorms and everything would go back to normal. Did they want normal? Would it be more fulfilling to be normal? Why would they want that when right now, right here, they felt so comfortable. Safe and warm, with the knowledge neither would go anywhere soon. Both their natures and them as people were pleased, when before they did this to keep from getting sick. Somehow, at some point, it changed to just wanting to spend time together. Simultaniously a revelation came over the two; they didn't want to be anywhere other than where they were, in one another's arms. Kaminari looked over his shoulder and found Bakugo's face close to his own, lips parted temptingly. Bakugo looked into golden eyes and relaxed, finding himself moving forward as their lips came dangerously close, too close to be called platonic anymore. A knock on the door broke them out of their little world, and Bakugo growled loudly. His grip on the Omega tightened, protectively setting his head near Kaminari's neck. The door opened and Mitsuki leaned in, grinning. "Lunch is- Oh shit. Katsuki, I thought I told you not to get him pregnant!" "I'm not, bitch!" "Then why are you about to bite him!?" "That's not what's going on!" "Just because your rut cycle started doesn't mean you can go crazy on him! I don't care if he is your fated one!" "Fuck off!" Kaminari couldn't help but chuckle at their bickering as Bakugo pulled away from him. They were dressed, completely, and the implications of what could be were lost on them. They'd never cared about it before, why start now? "I'm sure his fucking parents wouldn't approve!" Mitsuki growled and Kaminari was almost worried another fight would break out. "His parents don't give a shit about him!" "There's no parent which doesn't give a shit about their kid!" Kaminari wanted to protest. Somehow, this had become about him and he'd hoped to be able to spend the day focusing on Bakugo. He'd wanted to take his mind off of the wedding he was missing, all the way in America. Bakugo seemed to pick up on his distress, reaching over and putting one hand on the Omega's head. "Shut the fuck up. What did you come here to say, anyway?!" He growled. "Lunch is ready, come to get it or miss out." The Bakugos were more than enough of a distraction, Kaminari found as Bakugo dragged him out of the warm bed for food. They were loud, boisterous and prone to fighting, but they seemed to like him well enough. He thinks, mostly to himself, he'd like being a part of this family one day.

Aizawa's speech when Bakugo was released from house arrest had been less than inspiring. Kaminari hadn't made up with Kirishima yet; they'd been actively avoiding one another in the dorms and every second they spent in the building, they'd been silent. Bakugo watched the two interact and hated what's going on. He knew Kirishima was hurting, same with Kaminari, and he was in Kirishima's debt because of the night vision goggles; those things are expensive as hell. Midoriya had told Kaminari, and Kaminari had told him about them. It pissed him off. Everyone was having a hard time and-- An idea struck him, which made the Alpha smirk. He walked over to Kaminari and huffed, "Ugh, c'mere." "H-Huh? Wha? What for?" Kaminari asked as he was being dragged away behind the bushes-Could Bakugo always manhandle him like this? That's kinda hot in his mind-and suddenly, lips are pressed against his and their scents filled the air around them. Bakugo was kissing him. His Alpha was kissing him and holy shit if the summer heat wasn't getting to him a different kind was. Bakugo pulled away and whispered harshly, filling it with an order,  "Let loose. Now." Electricity, with all of its violence, buzzed and shot off from within him all around. Kaminari yelled out in pain. It burnt every nerve in his body, surrounding him with pain which made tears come to his eyes. He knew what was happening; he was going dumb. Everything was fuzzy, he couldn't understand what was going on around him. He couldn't control his body anymore. Bakugo probably didn't know, but Kaminari hated going stupid. Hated the feeling of having every limb chained down while simultaneously being able to move. Hated that he couldn't speak or explain how it felt to be locked away in his own mind. Jirou and the others started laughing at him, and Kaminari wanted to scream. But all that came out was a 'whey' and he listened to their laughter and let them draw on his overly sensitive body. Everything which touched him felt harsher, sharper than it usually would. His damaged nerves and skin thrummed and sent agonizing shocks throughout him, which made his knees weak. He wanted to stop. The only movement he could make was the thumbs up, letting everyone know he was okay. Except he wasn't. He couldn't think. As if someone had filled his head with rocks, he was surrounded by darkness and lost in vague shapes. What is happening out there? Why does it hurt so much? Why would Bakugo do this to me? His body jerked slightly, which prompted the laughing to get louder. He didn't hear Sero's words of comfort, but he heard the mocking snickering. He couldn't focus, everything hurt and was somehow muddied as well; laughter echoed throughout his head but he could barely make out who said it. He'd trapped himself in his head and all he could do was wait it out. Kaminari came to with drawings on his exposed skin, his hair messed up, lipstick on and laughter echoing his head. Someone had written 'Sigma' on his neck, the derogatory term for an unmated Omega, who flirted around. They might as well have called him an outright whore, for all it was worth. Sero was there for him, helping him scrub the marker off his skin to reveal new, twisting marks up his arms which were burning worse than normal. He said how Bakugo would be talking with Kirishima to try and return things to normal. Kaminari didn't want to see Bakugo for a while after today, nor Kirishima. He just wanted to curl up and get the memory of soft lips and juvenile laughter out of his head.

Bakugo was under dorm arrest with Midoriya. They'd gotten into a massive fight, broken into ground Beta, and even destroyed some buildings. Or so they'd been told. Bakugo was pissed, yet resigned himself to his fate. Three days; he had to make it through three days. His punishment also meant he wasn't allowed to seek out Kaminari for any reason at all, the lightning bolted teen had to seek him out. Which was incredibly inconvenient, since Bakugo had something to return to the Omega. He'd finally finished sewing up the hedgehog, having to unstuff the thing, handwash it, make the repairs, get better stuffing, fix the eyes and all the embroidery, all before restuffing it and sewing it up by hand. He'd been pretty proud of himself, especially with how good the thing looked. Almost like new. Bakugo had discovered the toy had originally been sewn by hand, with slightly cruddy stitching. Within the lining of the toy, between the fur on the back and the stuffing, he'd found a note. This thing had never been washed, either, apparently. At first, he'd wanted to throw it away so he could continue analyzing the needed repairs, but he kept it and decided to give it back to the Omega when he returned the toy. Kirishima had walked in on him sewing it up, teasing him about knowing how to sew. Bakugo admitted it was Kaminari's, Kirishima's face fell significantly. He didn't quite understand why but hadn't pressed for details either. On the second day of the dorm arrest, Kaminari came to his room when Kirishima wasn't around and sat on his bed. Neither was feverish, so the reason for visiting wasn't for contact "Hey," Kaminari said with a shaky grin, "Katsuki, can we... Uh. Talk?" "Whatever." Kaminari had been avoiding him as much as possible since his house arrest ended, and Bakugo knew why. Or, he thought he did. Kaminari must've hated the kiss, which is the reason for the avoidance. "So. Uh. We need to talk. About two weeks ago." Bakugo rolled his eyes, staring at the Omega. God, he looked even more delectable than usual. His hair was all messed up, his face a beautiful shade of pink, and he smelled so, so good. Every fiber of Bakugo's being screamed for him to claim Kaminari. "Right. So. Uh. Please, don't order me stupid again. It really hurts? And, uh, yeah!" Bakugo nodded, staring at the omega. He'd hurt his omega. Something inside him wilted, which infuriated him. He growled, Kaminari getting up and going over curiously. "So, you're not gonna order me stupid?" "No, I'm not gonna fucking order you stupid; you're stupid enough as it is." Kaminari beamed, and Bakugo let his instincts take over. He grabbed Kaminari and yanked him down, ignoring the yelp as he twisted, pinning the omega to the bed. Bakugo growled, looking him up and down against his bed. His face was heating up, spreading across his body as his Rut settled in. He pressed his face against the exposed neck beneath him, growling possessively. Kaminari yelped, squirming a bit underneath the Alpha, who exuded pheromones. Oh shit, Kaminari realized, Bakugo's rut started. And he's the only omega in the building, right underneath him. Great.   The Alpha had his face pressed against the most intimate place of an Omega; his bonding gland. If Bakugo bit down on such a place, hard enough to bleed, then they'd be bonded and they couldn't claim a platonic relationship. Unless Bakugo let him go from the bond, Kaminari would be stuck with him for life. Neither of them wanted that, despite the budding feelings. So Kaminari, knowing he couldn't throw off the Alpha, summoned his quirk and forced him off with a large shock, hissing loudly. Bakugo growled something unintelligible, pulling away and letting him go. The gap of time was short enough he was able to get out, slamming the door behind him with fast breaths. Kirishima was walking down the hall, and Kaminari ran over to the other Alpha and gripped his shirt, to the surprise of the redhead. "Hey, Kami, is everything okay?" Kirishima's voice was calm, a smooth timbre which was meant to soothe the shaking omega in his arms. "I-It's Katsuki! He's gone into Rut and. And..." Kirishima backed out of the embrace, immediately inspecting Kaminari's neck, sighing in relief when he found it unbitten. "You're okay. You're alright, Kami. Let's get you to your room, I'll handle Bakugo." Kirishima grinned his blinding grin to help assure him. "B-But-!" "It's going to be safer for you to stay in your room, so just stay there." Kaminari hated to admit how right the Alpha was, especially since he just got the hell out of there without getting hurt. He could go back in there to help get Bakugo into a rut room on the sixth floor, but he felt his anxiety taking over. He let Kirishima escort him to his room, watched as Sero jumped up and looked him over due to his distress. Kirishima then escorted the other Alpha to a rut room, which was the end of his dorm arrest as per Aizawa's orders once being informed.

That night, the group decided to play a game. A few people sat out, for one reason or another, which left everyone except for Bakugo, Shinsou, Yaoyorozu, Jirou, Shouji, Kouda, Sato, and Todoroki said he had to leave early. Uraraka had decided they'd play a game called Full Disclosure. Without the card game, they would play similar to a version of Truth or Dare. Spin a bottle, whoever the neck of the bottle points to is asked a question and the person the base of the bottle pointed to asks said question. If the person asked can't or won't answer the question, they must admit something else which would be considered a secret. All answers must begin with saying 'Full Disclosure' otherwise are subjected to punishment as well. Iida had deemed it too inappropriate and dragged Todoroki off with Aoyama, Midoriya deciding to stay and play with the rest of his friends. However, by now, exactly half the class remained. It was Ashido's turn to spin, having joined them since her rut ended before Bakugo returned to the dorms. No one wanted to know what would happen if it landed with her asking the question. As an Alpha, she was unnaturally nosy and had the chops to back up her invasiveness. The bottle spun, everyone holding their breaths. The neck of the bottle pointed to Kaminari, and his heart sank. Directly across from him was the pink girl herself. "Soooooo, Kaminari," Ashido grinned, causing the Omega to grin and lean back, "Who made you present?" Kaminari gulped, listening to his classmates start to whisper. Mostly between those who weren't in the loop, meaning Sero and Kirishima were the only ones silent. "C'mon, we all know you soulmate presented! Was it Bakugo? I bet it was Bakugo." The omega prayed for his soul silently, biting his lip, before answering. "It was Bakugo, yeah. He made me soulmate present, on like the third day of school." Kaminari chuckled, looking away from their wide stares. "Kaminari, how are you not dead...?" Midoriya asked, his question backed by Ojiro, Hagakure, and Tokoyami. "He's not that hard; he needs me too. So he can't kill me!" "You didn't say 'full disclosure', ribbit." Tsuyu said, looking off into the distance as she tended to do. Kaminari groaned, realizing it was true. "Ohh! Kami, Kaaaammmiiii, how do you feel about Bakugo?" Ashido grinned, her black eyes staring into the Omega's soul as he blushed redder than Kirishima's hair. "That's a bit more complicated. He's comforting, I have strong feelings for him but I don't know exactly how to put it. Are they because we're Fated Ones? I still don't know. When he got kidnapped, my world came crashing down, but there's this. This bond we have. I know if he's in distress because my body reacts to it," He glared pointedly at Midoriya, who slunk back with a blush, "So I wasn't that worried. Then I met his parents, and he came back; I still don't know if my feelings are mine or just my inner omega. We've been on kind of dates, even kissed," The scandal of their gasps made him chuckle, "So, in the most simple of terms... I love him, and I've been thinking that's how I feel as me, not as an Omega." The silence of the room was louder than if they'd screamed. The four Betas-Midoriya, Hagakure, Sero and Tsuyu-were staring at him like they were worried about his safety. The five Alphas-Ashido, Ojiro, Kirishima, Tokoyami, and Uraraka-Almost seemed offended by his choice. "You're gonna get us killed, Kami." Ashido laughed, "Now, your turn to spin!" "No, no, we should talk about this." Midoriya interrupted, looking nervous. "Why?" Kaminari tilted his head, "What's there to talk about?" "You do understand that Bakugo will drop you as soon as he gets the chance, yeah?" Uraraka attempted to grin. "He's not that bad!" The rest of the Bakusquad members said, defending the Alpha's honor. "Yeah, he's not going to drop me!" Kaminari beamed, "You just gotta get to know him a bit better." "I don't think he'd let us." Midoriya chuckled. "He might give it a try. Don't underestimate him, he's more than meets the eye."

Ruts lasted around three days as opposed to the week of heat, so Bakugo was back to class in almost no time. But he'd come out of his hell in the middle of the day, and knew the tail end would come back and kick his ass in the middle of class. So, he stayed back and pondered what he'd do when they got back to the dorms. He'd probably punch Deku, or at least have the overwhelming urge to do so. He needed to find something to make up for what he did to Kaminari. He'd nigh on attacked the Omega, even if he hadn't had the chance to do anything. The end of a Rut always left Bakugo feeling drained and exhausted, with nothing to recharge that battery. Now, he had an electric Omega who would be able to help, but probably wanted nothing to do with him outside of contact for the sake of their health. He somehow found himself in Kaminari and Sero's room, snooping around the Omega's stuff again. He'd come there with the intention to give Kaminari back his plush, just as he had when his Rut began, yet allowed himself to get sidetracked. He rummaged through the drawers on the bedframe, seeing photo albums from middle school and some clothing. One drawer was locked, the second one to the end. Baugo didn't care enough to find out what was inside; it reeked of Omega heat, after all. The last drawer, however, caught his eye. It was left slightly open, with a pen sticking out the side. It was the only drawer which hadn't been properly closed. So he opened it, the creek let out by the wood an annoyance more than anything else and peered inside. He saw a book, dark leather binding it with an imprint of the tree of life on its cover. A pencil bag was next to it, embroidered with silver markings on the black canvas. He picked up the book and started flipping through it, intrigued by the contents. The first few pages were of places and things, hyper-realistic and obviously drawn with great care. A date marked the corner; these had been drawn last winter, before entering UA. Continuing forward, he was shocked to find photos of himself. His eyes, burning with fury, framed by his hero mask. Then another, with him standing tall upon a mountain in his hiking gear. He flipped through the book, finding page after page of him, from day to day life to outfits he'd never dream of wearing. It was a little disturbing, but some part of him felt honored. Kaminari didn't hate him. If he did, he would have destroyed these. The last picture in the book, with around ten blank pages left in the sketchbook, was of him again. Finished last night, by the date in the corner. It portrayed him as he last saw him. Sitting on his bed, staring at the viewer, his hair messed up and a bruise forming over his cheek. Scuff marks and bandages from his fight with Midoriya on full display. The look on his face portrayed emotional vulnerability he didn't appreciate seeing, and the pose. It showed him closed off, unwilling to talk, and could come off as scared. Before getting kidnapped, Bakugo would have burned the whole book for everything it held. But now, with everything, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could look through the photographs and see how he's grown, how he's changed. He thought about what All Might had said, about him being at Level Fifty. He didn't start there; he'd gotten better. In the terms of an RPG, his attack level stayed the same, as did his defence and general skills. Only one skill changed. Commonly known as 'Charisma', or in other words, his social skills. He had to catch up to Midoriya, in that sense. He'd never been forced to have conversations in the past. Oh, he'd had 'followers', idiots who followed him around and idolized him for his power and Alpha status, but he'd never been able to count on them. Now, he could hold a conversation with almost any of his classmates and work with them for training. Something told him it was partly due to the group of extroverted idiots he'd collected. They would barge in at any given moment, grinning and eager to just spend time with him. He could laugh with them, they helped him when he needed it and he helped them any other time. It made for an interesting school life, one he wasn't eager to let go of at all. Even over the summer, where he'd barely seen them, he'd wondered what they were doing and participated in the group chat. Without them, he likely wouldn't have opened up to Midoriya and gotten the truth. His stubborn pride didn't have limits, but it had been chipped at over the course of a semester, only to be torn down in two days of a summer and an exam. His friends slowly helped him build it back up, which he was happy about. They'd become almost like a pack, caring for each other when they knew someone else couldn't. If he needed to, there's no one else he'd trust more with important things, which is something he'd never thought he'd have before coming to UA. It left him in slight awe, since in his hands, Bakugo had a physical depiction of his growth since the day they moved in to then. And he was grateful as hell for it. He closed the sketchbook, setting it back where he found it, then pulled out his phone. Text to Kaminari Denki: I'll meet you by the gate an hour after class, don't be late. Now, he needed to get dressed and play the waiting game.

Kaminari said he had never been the kind of person to look at his texts during class. That was the biggest lie in the world. In reality, he checked his phone every few minutes. Be it to check a text or his email or just to kill time. So seeing his soulmate sending him a text during the last few minutes of English class sent a swell of warmth through his body. Bakugo wanted to hang out with him, of course he was happy! He anxiously waited through class, unable to focus. He glanced at the clock every few seconds, and got his ass handed to him royally in training. Aizawa even took him aside and asked if he needed to be escorted back to the dorms for his heat. As tempting as it sounded, he confessed the truth to the man. Aizawa rolled his eyes and told him to get his head on straight before heading back to class. Kaminari exuded happy pheromones for the rest of the day, sunny days wrapping with chocolate cookies over his normal scent. Everything seemed to go well; Bakugo was back to normal, his friends were happy, things were looking up. Of course, he still wished he could find his testing toy, but beggars can't be choosers. Time ticked by and by, slower at times than others. When class finally ended, Kaminari was the first to bolt out and the first one to his dorm room. He couldn't wait to see what was in store!! He needed a shower first, though. Training was intense and ran late. Water wasn't his element, but it needed to be done. He hummedas he washed up, making sure he didn't smell of any other Alphas from classes today. He didn't want to piss off Bakugo; he wanted to try to confess how he felt. Soulmate things were hard, he'd learned. Sometimes Bakugo would growl at him if he'd spent too much time around other Alphas and smelled like them, outside of their little friend group of course, and Kaminari found himself nosing his way more and more into Bakugo's life. They were doing the exact things Recovery girl warned them not to do, which left them in an odd limbo-romance. Close enough to be overly clingy and platonic, but teetering on the edge of something more. All it would take is a few words or an action, and they'd fall into a pit of romantic cliches and statistics. Kaminari wanted that. He wanted it badly, to be able to kiss the Alpha and hug him and go out on stupid dates, to do what couples do without it being under the guise of having to for their health. It's all he thought about as he dried off and redressed, an ohm symbol shirt which doubled as the signal for Omega--Really, he should have figured out his nature sooner, how ironic--and black jeans. The wind howled outside, having picked up while he'd been in the shower, and he decided to grab a light jacket and head on his way. If he could get the words out, could tell Bakugo how he felt, then maybe things would properly change. Maybe, with him, he didn't have to be the heir of a company, didn't have to be the family screw up and he didn't have to even be an Omega or a hero hopeful; he could just be Denki, he could be someone with a soulmate enjoying their time together. But, did Bakugo want that too? Did he want to be just Katsuki, instead of having the expectations of being a designer like his father and always being the best? Did he want to get rid of the ideology of having to win in everything and anything, and be able to accept his losses both big and small? If that's what he wanted, then Kaminari wanted to be the one who could do that for him, even if Bakugo couldn't do it for him. His nerves shot up as he walked towards the gate, seeing Bakugo already waiting for him with a bag in hand. He briefly wondered what could be in there, since Bakugo was holding it protectively. "Hey!" Kaminari waved, "What's up?" "Took ya long enough to fucking get here!" Bakugo yelled, more of a growl, and Kaminari grinned though his heart still raced. "I know, I know. Sorry~" He chuckled, reaching out for Bakugo's hand to hold. "What'cha got there?" "Wait until we get to the fucking park, idiot!" "Kay, Katsuki!" Bakugo would never get over the rush hearing his name from Kaminari's lips gave him. It filled his body with this fuzzy feeling which caused heat to rise in his cheeks and ears, caused his hand to twitch and his heart to clench. The laugh which accompanied his name filled him with pride. He made his Omega happy, he caused him to laugh, and he would keep doing so until the day he died. The park wasn't a long walk from the dorms, no more than fifteen minutes at a normal pace and even less if one were to run. The summer heat was giving way to crisp fall air, the slight chill of the wind blowing around them. Bakugo lead Kaminari to the fountain, sitting down and the Omega sat next to him, head tilted. Bakugo had never confessed to someone before, he didn't know how it was usually done. Kaminari looked hesitant, and Bakugo decided to do what he'd always done; say what was on his mind, do what he wanted, and fuck the consequences. He set the bag down, taking the contents of it in his hand as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the Omega's quickly as he shoved the stuffed animal to the other blonde's chest. Kaminari yelped, his static building with his surprise, yet he controlled it this time. Okay. Bakugo was kissing him. Kaminari shut his eyes and pressed against the Alpha, head tilted, and he gave in to what he wanted, only for the Alpha to pull away, letting go of the thing pressed against his chest. Kaminari glanced down at the toy he now had in his lap, which fell when released, and blinked in surprise. His old hedgehog toy, which he'd noticed had gone missing a while ago, was right there. "What the heck?" He said, to both the kiss and the toy. "I fixed it up for you, dumbass!" "That's... Katsuki, you didn't have to do this." "Too bad, I did." "A-And what the heck was the kiss about? You don't do things like this unless you're trying to court an omega!" Bakugo stared at Kaminari and growled, causing the younger to jolt. "That's what I'm fucking trying to do, dumbass!" "Wait. What?" Kaminari blinked. Bakugo was trying to court an Omega? He didn't see another Omega around, but there's no way he meant him. No way. Kaminari was not that lucky. He could barely get critical hits in a video game, he wasn't lucky enough to have the object of his affections like him back. "Are you really that dense?!" Bakugo's hands twitched, his voice dropping to a whisper to finish his sentence, "Holy shit, I fell in love with a fucking idiot." But Kaminari heard, oh he heard and it sunk in. Yet, like an idiot, all he could say was, "Wait, you love me?" "Un-fucking-fortunately." "I love you too." "Good. Now. Let's get one thing straight, Sparky." Bakugo growled, "I am going to become the best. Alone. That means you need to keep up, and we're not doing the fucking. Mating thing." He spat the word out as if it were poison, and Kaminari could understand why. Mated pairs could be incredibly strong, but they came with a massive weakness. If one died, the other often followed shortly after. Either someone killed them in a weakened state, or the depression overtook them. All in all, it was a reasonable statement. "Okay, so. What are we?" Kaminari asked, squeezing his plush toy with a purr. "Since when did we need shit like labels?" "Fair, but you have to call me Denki. At least when we're alone. And we're gonna o a lot more kissing, okay?" Bakugo grinned, a wicked idea forming in his head. He leaned forward once more, kissing the purring Omega with a growl. "You're mine, Denki." Together, they created a storm which would blow everyone else away; they were meant for each other, and the waiting only made everything better.