#under cut cause long not cause overly spicy

[pkmnomegaverse]

Okay unhinged omegaverse posting time but….I’ve for sure thought about what a dystopian omegaverse AU would look like for this verse (basically omegas are getting the short end of the stick in society. “Misogynistic” route, so to speak). And while it’s pretty easy with Gen 1-4 since protags so young that “arranged marriage” to a not-terrible partner is how I often run things (as ships are all presumably the same(ish) as Mainverse), it’s 5-6 that are always tricky to work with. Since protags are old enough they would be going through their heats and probably would have a matebond in the works. Per how I headcanon things.

So! My thoughts on Hilbert/N and the mess that could be. Hilbert would he promised away to some guy. No canon character fits in my head so just some older alpha guy OC. But not Cheren since would need to be an alpha so beta Cheren it out of the running. But something something in this route Hilbert hasn’t quite gone through his first heat yet (which is typically the time bonding would be arranged in these “arranged marriages”). So Hilbert is traveling around for one last hurrah before married life it is. But he would end up going into heat for the first time in Chargestone Cave while N is around and things get out of hand (obviously) and bam. They sleep together since can’t hold back (not like Hilbert actually likes the guy he’s promised to). Easy to give into the guy he’s actually attracted to. Matebond time (RIP the Shadow Triad kinda just lurking and not having the gumption to stop things tho. Even tho you know Ghetsis said they better intervene if N tries to hook up with some troublesome omega). Like in theory, Hilbert was suppose to call up his betrothed once he could tell he was going into heat and get things sorted out with him. But since he never liked the guy…

On N’s end, I headcanon that the con of Ghetsis keeping him so isolated is that he’s initially more susceptible to omegaverse nonsense since has no built up tolerance. It’s one thing if it’s an omega he doesn’t know. Can resist enough to flee the area. But when faced when someone he’s attracted to…his feelings overwhelm him.

I do think it would make kind of a mess of the plot and N leaving at the end would be extra cruel. But would for sure explain why Hilbert leaves to find him. Would not actually make N back down though. Would instead push him further towards the idea that Hilbert will join his side after he defeats him. Will still need to fulfill their roles as opposing heroes in the short term. But will be together in the end, as the twin heroes were always meant to be one (going with the idea Kyurem was originally the three dragons as one). Even in non-dystopian Mainverse I tend to view it that in the back of his mind, N kind of assumes he and Hilbert will get together in the end once he defeats Hilbert. Hero dragons were meant to be one, afterall. But the feeling is more pronounced in this version of events.

My gut reaction to the idea was actually that they would just disappear together after the main plot of BW. Hilbert had fucked up the life he was suppose to lead (disgraced omega) and since they’re bonded, the two are tied together. Would be painful to abandon each other. So when N makes his whole speech thing about leaving, Hilbert grabs his hand and asks to go with him. And they disappear together. No one sure what exactly went down during that final confrontation with the heads of Team Plasma, as no one remains behind to tell the tale.

As for how this would effect BW2, I have less thoughts on that, but maybe Hilbert is with child or recently given birth to his and N’s first child, thus why he wouldn’t show up and only N does, once word of Team Plasma resurgence gets out. Boy on maternity leave (ignoring how I don’t actually think this would stop Hilbert from getting involved. Boy could be in his third trimester and is still gonna throw hands with Ghetsis). Nate/Hugh are easy to deal with though since are just another “happily arranged marriage” where Hugh isn’t opposed to Nate going on a journey despite being at the age heat/rut are just starting to affect them both (can continue my Gen 5 parallels Gen 1 agenda since that’s how I deal with Red/Green as well. Happily arranged marriage duo who travel at the same time so the alpha can be close by on the off chance the omega goes into heat). So Nate/Hugh would def have to deal with that during their travels. Like maybe Hilbert would show up post canon to talk with Nate (since wants to meet this guy in person who N seems to like) and Nate is kinda shocked since was not expecting to meet the hero of Unova despite all the stuff he did for the region. And then it turns out the region's hero is already expecting/has had a child!! A bit inspiring, perhaps. How being an omega with a mate doesn't stop Hilbert from being kickass when the going gets tough.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

okay yes everybody has amateur opinions on tiktok (except Nanami x Tiana and Yuuji x Rapunzel shit was galaxy brained)

So here are some REAL ships by a seasoned dululu shipper (these can be platonic or otherwise btw!)

(this got long so I put it under a cut)

Nobara x Jasmine - Both of them feel stifled by the people around them and are very headstrong and confident in themselves. They would love shopping together and would also kick so. much. ass.

Megumi x Elsa - UPON RECENT COMMENTARY (shout out to @sarah-dipitous) I think their personality matches really well!! They both have little siblings they want to protect, they're both serious and stoic, they both have a high sense of responsibility. Also the tragedy aspect would lowkey hit with these two in a fic like...if you know you know

Maki x Cinderella - Both of them were very mistreated by their families, and I feel like Maki would help Cinderella get out of that abuse and then they could BOTH help each other grow and heal from that

Toge x Sleeping Beauty - Okay honestly I just think this is cute like what if he wakes her up and breaks the curse with his powers 🥺🥺🥺

Belle x Sukuna - Girl is too curious for her own good, she would jump on this immediately. Monster lovers and furries are cousins after all. With her "I can fix him" ass, I would wish him on no one else.

Suguro x Ariel - This is more because I think the interactions would be very interesting. Ariel is so so curious about the world, enough to sell her voice, and ultimately has a positive experience having her eyes opened (but also can't go back to her home). Suguro had his eyes opened to the world but had a negative experience (and also can't go back to the world he knew). Also, I think Ariel's carefree and goofy nature would remind him of Gojo.

Gojo x Moana - SPEAKING OF!!! I paired these two because Moana's already friends with a cocky god-like figure!!! She would be unimpressed by Gojo's antics and would know how to handle his joking around, which I think is really important to anybody looking for a relationship with him. He starts being overly obnoxious and she just dunks his ass in the ocean lol

OKAY NOW THE TWO THAT I DO LIKE!!!

8. Nanami x Tiana - the GOAT. 10/10. Whoever came with this better be writing/commissioning this fic as we speak. First of all I love Nanami any time he's paired with a Black woman. I've seen y'alls selfships and it just looks good every single time. Second, they're both hardworkers, but Tiana is self-sacrificially so and I can just see Nanami stepping in and making sure she does not work a SECOND more than she is getting compensated for and makes sure she is still taking care of herself, because zero job is worth more than she is. Love that for her. (Also, like everyone else says, yeah he takes one bite of them beignets and has the proposal on DECK)

9. Yuuji x Rapunzel - This is literally sunshine 4 sunshine and I'm obsessed. First thing Yuuji says when Rapunzel tells him about her hair "Yoooo, that's sick as fuck!!!!" Totally unbothered cause he's also got his own weirdo issues!!!! She also would be unfazed by Sukuna. If he starts talking spicy to her, she would just knock his ass out with the frying pan and get Yuuji back lol. (They WOULD have to worry about him working with Mother Gothel tho...which would make for excellent plot conflict)

[captainschmoe]

give us all the details on the new second gen OCs plz

Hi anon! I’ve been really struggling with several of them, but instead of sitting and around and waiting until inspiration hits me, I’ll just toss what I do have out there, listed roughly in order of most to least detailed in my head :)

Under the cut because it is LONG

Sinjin: Frederick’s son from the future. His initial class is Wyvern Rider. An enigmatic knight with a cool yet relaxed attitude. The hardest to wake up in the morning.

Sinjin was trained to become an Ylissean royal knight and raised alongside his future liege, Lucina. However, he was disobedient as a child, frustrating his father to no end. Shortly before his adolescence, his parents suddenly died in the war following Grima’s resurrection, and with Lucina’s tragic inheritance of Falchion and the crown, Sinjin finally realized that he needed to step up and become the knight his father intended in order to keep his friend and princess safe. He specifically chose to master the axe to cover for Lucina’s lance weakness, and the two stayed firmly side-by-side until they were separated in their journey to the past.

Since returning to the past, Sinjin and his wyvern traveled far and wide as they could, though Sinjin frequently needed to catch up on the sleep he lost from constant fighting in the future. Though happy to see his parents and friends again, he was not particularly thrilled with the prospect of Frederick’s inevitable lectures about his penchant for sleeping in and letting Lucina do some of the daily chores herself.

The Shepherds found him taking a nap in the bushes dangerously close to a turf war.

Kuennen: Kellam’s daughter from the future. Her default class is Thief. An enigmatic woman who can appear and vanish seemingly at will.

Due to being born to a man in a family packed full of boys, Kuennen ended up being spoiled rotten in her youth, and to this day still refers to Kellam as “Daddy” and even “Daddykins” on occasion. She likes seeking attention and approval of others and making grand entrances, but she still inherited her father’s ability to instantly vanish, and used it to her and the other children’s advantage in the future, being extremely difficult to track and capture and stealing from enemies without them ever knowing.

The Shepherds find her while attempting to recover a family’s stolen heirlooms; turns out she was right in the process of stealing them back from the bandits.

Re’ki: Lon’qu’s daughter from the future. Her default class is Myrmidon. An enigmatic swordswoman who never loses her level head.

Prior to traveling to the past, Re’ki never got the chance to leard of her namesake, nor had she ever realized her father harbored any envy for her sword skills, especially as she turned out to be left-handed and couldn’t simply copy his movements. Upon learning just how much effort her father puts into swordsmanship just to try to match Basilio, she deems him the better fighter. Like her father, Re’ki is somewhat repulsed by both verbal and physical affection (although no matter the other person’s demographic). As such, none of her supports build especially quickly.

The Shepherds found Re’ki in a forest clearing after following a trail of dismembered pieces of Risen, which was of course her doing.

Gavin: Gaius’s son from the future. His default class is Thief. An enigmatic thief with a constant craving for spice. The quickest to get stomachaches.

In the future, being raised by Gaius caused Gavin to be frequently exposed to candy, cakes, and other manner of overly-sugary treats. Unlike Gaius, though, Gavin is naturally inclined towards savory and spicy foods, and struggles to keep sugar down. Even plain fruit is a challenge for him. One day, Gavin personally witnessed his father being brutally ripped apart by the Risen, and became violently ill from the sight. Ever since then, he has tried to avoid people and Risen alike and can only bring himself to kill if he closes his eyes while dealing the finishing blow and never looks at the corpse afterwards. While in Lucina’s ranks, he was a designated scout.

The Shepherds found him skulking behind a wall, looking for food or treasure, while fending off a Risen attack on a village.

Aries: Libra’s daughter from the future. Her default class is Cleric. An enigmatic cleric frequently mistaken for male. The fondest of smelling books.

Even before the Fell Dragon was reborn, Aries had always had a strong curiosity for why the Grimleal wanted to bring about the world’s end, as not even they would benefit from such a thing. Rather than accept them as an incomprehensible evil, however, she studied as much of the the history and motivations of the Grimleal faith as she could, though she was ashamed of this and desperate to hide it from her parents and friends. After Grima’s resurrection, she only felt more guilty, but her supports show that most of the others are fine with her showing compassion for the Grimleal.

Philibert: Virion’s son from the future. His default class is Archer, and he inherits Pegasus Knight instead of Wyvern Rider. An enigmatic poet with a burning passion for male beauty. The most difficult to startle.

The Shepherds find Philibert leading a small team of men from a rooftop to fend off a late-night bandit attack. Upon learning that Lucina has dropped her “Marth” disguise, he laments the loss of one of the most handsome young lads he’d ever seen… even if Chrom is the one talking to him.

Reuben: Ricken’s son from the future. His default class is Mage. An enigmatic giant of a man with a knack for talking to children. The last one to ever attempt any pranks.

Sylva: Stahl’s daughter from the future. Her default class is Cavalier. An enigmatic apothecary who desperately seeks her purpose in life. The one with the most bizarre dreams.

Aldhar: Vaike’s son from the future. His default class is Fighter. An enigmatic young man who finds himself easily picked on. The fastest puzzle-solver.

Barbara: Gregor’s daughter from the future. Her default class is Mercenary, and she can inherit the Barbarian class as well. An enigmatic woman who can unnerve even hardened men with her overwhelming presence.

Jack: Henry’s son from the future. His default class is Mage. An enigmatic man who just wants to live a normal life. The quickest to earn small animals’ trust.

Bea: Donnel’s daughter from the future. An enigmatic farm girl with dreams of being a livestock vet.

[astrowithkaro]

Hi do you mind doing a bday language on April 20th thank you!!

Language Of Birthdays: April 20 - Taurus

[You can find the rest of the series here; or check out my masterlist]

The Day Of Worldly Change

Those born on April 20 have highly developed leadership abilities. Dynamic individuals, their inner drive invariably points them in an upward direction, inevitably toward accomplishment, success and power. In addition, those born on this day are rarely content to simply advance their own cause but also must feel that they are able to put their family, business or social group on the right course. Group values always remain a high priority for them.

Yet, not uncommonly, those born on this day are also extremely sensitive and highly private individuals. They have a strongly developed fantasy life, which can be invaluable to their career but only if put to constructive use. Their sensitivity may lead them to be touchy and high-strung, but also can lend their character a mesmerizing quality which makes them fascinating to others. It is incumbent on them, however, to remain in touch with and in control of their feelings since those born on this day tend to stir the emotions of others so strongly, particularly those of loved ones and friends.

No matter what walk of life these socially committed individuals find themselves in, it is the challenges of the world which spur them on. For the most part they do not avoid problems or conflicts but welcome them. That they do not seem cut out for an easy, relaxed life at all is apparent, and this can indeed seem an impassible barrier to their ever achieving happiness or rest. Yet, curiously, they find refuge in intense excitement and concentrated problem solving, much like a bird or plane that seeks safe haven in the eye of the hurricane. Their whirlwind energies may wear others down, however, and eventually take their toll on themselves as well.

April 20 people are highly intuitive, often preferring to fly by the seat of their pants than follow a map. But at the same time they are intensely physical, needing the satisfaction offered by food, sensuous human contact and a stable family life. Although the earthy aspects of their personality can serve to ground their imaginative side, conflicts may also arise, particularly when the gulf between dreams and reality becomes impassible.Those born on this day must be careful not to allow themselves to suffer frustration for very long, but rather scale back their goals to more attainable levels when necessary. Learning to objectively assess their capabilities, regularly monitor themselves and remain flexible enough to revise their daily approach to life when needed will be important to keeping them on their path.

Strengths:

Powerful

Inspiring

Exciting

Weaknesses:

Illusion-prone

Overly emotional

Fixated

Advice

April 20 people may face enormous stress in their lives, particularly in the realm of bringing their earthy and fiery natures into balance with each other. In fact, their health depends on their ability to achieve this balance. April 20 people people should consider cutting certain substances from their diet or at least keeping them under strict control. The first of these is sugar. If April 20 people have a sweet tooth it w ill be difficult to control their sugar intake, but nonetheless imperative that they do so to maintain stability and constancy of mood. In addition, they should beware of the typical Aries love of spicy, hot foods and of exotic dishes. What should April 20 people eat' drains of all types are stabilizing: so are potatoes and other vegetables grown under the earth, like carrots, turnips and beets Hot baths with minerals or oils, aromatherapy, massage and yoga can all aid relaxation.

Don't go off the deep end; ground yourself

Try to be more accepting and less touch

Quiet confidence lessens your need to prove yourself

Hello, I hope this resonated to some degree. Speaking of degrees, I know that this day is a "cusp day" but as you may know, in real astrology there's no such thing as cusps. This day belongs to everyone who are born 29° Aries to 1° in Taurus <3

[honeytea8]

Dearly Beloved • Kars/Reader

A/N: Did an art-fic trade with the lovely @sammystep​! So, here’s some Kars fluff with a sprinkle of angst for ya. Reader is gender neutral as always, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.3K

Summary: With your species on the cusp of war, all you desire is the right to remain at your lover's side—to continue to be his dearly beloved.

Warnings: None!

By midnight, Kars had searched almost everywhere for you. But it should have come at no surprise to anyone, least of all him, that you would be found in your secret spot. 

The subterranean cities built underground far from the sun's rays are where you and Kars had grown up, and spent much of your formative years. It was only when the sky faded to dusk, and the shadows grew long did any one of your people dare to venture out into nature. 

You, ever curious, took to exploring as much as you possibly could before the sun came back up, and you were forced to retreat underground again. It was in these nightly adventures that you discovered this obscure little pocket of bliss that seemed cut off from the rest of the world.

When Kars had found you, you were tucked away in the shelter of an alcove where you spent your nights' painting or carving away at the stone walls. You liked to call it your 'workshop.' In actuality, it was a small cave with odd-looking columns and pillar structures made from limestone.

Kars knew if left up to your own devices, you would remain there until daybreak; this place always gave you a kind of peace you just didn't receive anywhere else. The air there was always tinged with sweetness since you often ground wild berries to use as pigments for your artwork. The cave was usually quiet, save for chirping cicadas, and rustling leaves in the distance. Or even Kars’ footfalls  whenever he would come searching for you. 

With the way you were hunkered down in a corner, he might not have seen you at first glance. Fortunately for him, he had excellent vision and perfectly honed sensing skills. You, on the other hand, were sorely lacking in the latter. As it took him placing a gentle hand on your back for you to finally tear your attentions away from your little project.

"Kars," you murmured, "What are you doing here?"

The man would've chastised you for your overly casual greeting, but was more intrigued by what you were working on this time. Kars rather enjoyed your creative side, and it pleased him to see you devote yourself to something you were passionate about. He was of a similar temperament regarding his research. Your art was the only thing he was willing to share you with.

Kars knelt at your side, picking up one of your handmade brushes. By its smoothness, he could tell it was goat's hair wrapped in twine and reinforced with bull's hide. He silently commended your choice in material. It was nicely crafted.

"I came to see what has been occupying your time, beloved."

A smile broke across your face at the sound of your favorite pet name falling from his lips. It was always beloved this, and darling that. Sweet was not ever something you could describe him as. Whenever Kars was like this, it usually implied something...a little less than sweet. Finally setting aside your tools, you allowed yourself to lean back against his solid frame. 

You would never speak these words aloud, but Kars was your anchor. He kept you grounded, especially when it felt like you'd be swept up in the storm. He would loathe hearing you say it, for in his eyes, you should stand on your own feet. Kars wanted you strong—to fight along with him like the warrior he knew you to be.

In these times of social unrest, the war between your people was as inevitable as the sun on the horizon. Your brethren did not agree with Kars' ideologies, seeds of discord were sown, and it was only a matter of time before serious conflict broke. Bloodshed and death were imminent figures looming in the distance.

"Will you continue to keep me waiting?" he asked.

You shook your head, not trusting your own voice to remain firm in his presence. Instead, you took his hand in yours and kissed it. His palm first, then each knuckle one by one. This man of great pride and ambition yearned only to purge his clan's fears, so they may reign supreme like gods. There would never come a day where you would not align yourself to him. 

Words need not be said. He understood your convictions and was pleased to have someone like you in his corner. Kars gathered you into his arms, adjusting himself so that you sat in between his legs. His grip was loose around you but comforting. You fit perfectly against his body like you were made for one another. 

Whenever he held you close like this, there was always an air of protection and security, a comfort given your tendency to overthink. Everything about your lover set you at ease, even his very smell. A spicy aroma like cinnamon or clove with sweet undertones that were a cross between vanilla and honeysuckle. You couldn't quite distinguish it, but you basked in its familiarity all the same.

His intoxicating presence only served as fuel to your growing attachment. You could feel the press of his nose against your hair. His calloused hands along the flesh of your thighs—even the deep rumble in his chest as he hummed. 

His lips grazed the base of your throat, brushing softly against your pulse. Somewhere in the distance was a bird’s crowing, the morning call and the sign of a new day approaching. The sun would be up soon.

Kars gave you a tight squeeze before releasing you altogether. You frowned a little, wondering why he had to let go right as you were enjoying his touch. Kars hadn't even given you the chance to question him before he scooped you in his arms and carried you bridal style, heading in the direction of your personal quarters.

"Don't pout. You aren't a child." 

He was amused as he chided you, a rare thing, but you could tell by the teasing lilt in his voice. Your face was pressed against his chest, so it muffled your reply.

"I'm not pouting."

"Indeed." he held you closer to combat the chill. "You are not pouting, but brooding. Tell me, darling, will you throw a tantrum like Esidisi?"

He was met with petulant silence.

"I hear it helps," he murmured into your hair.

In response to his provocation, you nipped at him, sinking your blunt teeth into the junction between his shoulder and neck. Two could play at that game, you mused. Your silly action had the desired effect, as Kars adjusted his grip, then swung you over one shoulder, giving your ass a sharp smack.

"Behave," he warned. But honestly, it sounded like he didn't want you to behave at all.

This game continued until you reached your shared room. Kars tossed you carelessly onto the nest of plush furs and animal pelts before following suit. Sleep wasn't necessary for your species, but it was not uncommon for you to just relax in bed on occasion. 

"I'm not very tired," you said, causing Kars to smirk.

"Nor am I."

You shifted and placed a hand on his cheek. "Well."

"Well, what?" Kars was giving you a lazy, half-lidded stare. 

Deep within the dredges of his gaze lay a subdued want. It spurred you to lean forward and peck the corner of his mouth briefly, and then fully press a kiss to his lips. Kars was quick to thread his free hand into your hair while setting a proper rhythm. His other hand dipped lower down your back. 

There was something incredibly intimate about having his open mouth against your own. It was almost like you shared in his every breath, granted yet another avenue for deeper connection. 

You were entirely unprepared for the force of Kars' passion, the desperation behind his kiss so sudden, you could've snapped under the pressure. It was like he was sharing with you, for the briefest moments, the burden he carried—tenderness and strength in tandem.

Only when he released you, were you able to look at him in all of his glory, as the person you'd fallen in love with.

“Promise me, that no matter what happens, we’ll be together.”

He cupped your cheek, passing his thumb against your bottom lip. “Without question.”

[horrorslashergirl]

Damien Gavril Chirilă

Authors Note: This is Decebal's and @slashersins Son!

Name: Damien Gavril Chirilă

Nicknames: Dami, Gavi

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Demisexual and Bisexual

Nationality: American, Romanian

Languages: English, Romanian, Italian, French, Russian

Voice: Damien's voice just like his father's, Decebal, is deep and has a baritone tint, giving off powerful and warrior vibes to say so, although he prefers not to speak too loudly. Think of his voice like the roar before a war.... His voice is calm and almost like feather-like touches, but once you cross him, his voice will get booming and taking you back. His voice is like a sword; beautiful, strong yet so sharp.

Occupation: Hitman and Martial Art Trainer

Hair: His hair is wavy and longer on top than on his sides, mostly like his fathers' hairstyle, and has a habit to always run his hand back through it when it gets into his eyes. The color of his hair is a very dark brown, almost black.

Eyes: Just like his fathers, pale grey, almost white, giving the impression he is blind

Height: 6'5

Body: Athletic type with some muscles underneath. He is not overly buff, but not slim either. Think of it like a 'swimmers body'; defined torso, long arms, and broad shoulders

Weapons/Fighting style: Just like his father, he is a master swordsman and a pro into hand-to-hand combat; his primary weapon is a big war sword that can cause heavy damage and he also beholds quite the brutal strength under these baggy clothes, after all... Mastering such a heavy sword requires some high strength.

Clothing: Damien is the type that thinks that clothes are clothes. He prefers comfortable clothing that isn't flashy like oversized hoodies, jackets with many pockets, jeans that can be also ripped on the knees, sneakers, and combat boots. Everything into dark colors or neutral ones like grey. Although, he does love to wear fancy watches and despite not being that into the fashion department, he managed to wear all these simple clothes with style.

Other characteristics: Damien has tattoos. His body isn't all inked up like his fathers but he does have his hands inked up with intricate tattoos and a tattoo of a bat on his chest.

Motive of killing: Being a hitman, he can be given all kinds of targets, but he is very selective into it. Most of his targets are corrupted people, abusers of the system.

Scent: It's intense and spicy pink pepper and citrusy lemon top notes followed by heart notes of orange blossom; impossibly seductive and romantic; alongside neroli and French lavender. Finally, patchouli, wrapping you up in its woody incense-like aroma, followed by ultra-masculine cedarwood.

Preferred Method of Kill:

Damien is very brutal and deadly into his kills, he will slash through muscels and bone like they are made of paper. One of his favorite is cutting off his victims legs, then heating up his swords so he can close the wounds, not letting the victim bleed to death, so prolonging the kill more. He will cut off each finger until the persons hands are fingerless then finally he will thrust his sword through the victims skull, killing them.

Personality:

Unlike his loud and boisterous father, Damien is much more reserved and quiet, not necessarily self-conscious, but more so an observer; silent but taking in all aspects into a room. Think of his personality like a calm and full of tranquility field where you can basically hear the wind blowing.

He will be the listener, perking his ears at others' problems and trying to find a solution if the said person seeks so, but he will never try to force his opinions and beliefs on anyone. He is the type to respect personal boundaries and be aware of other people's feelings.

Although he can be soft-spoken and tranquil, that doesn't mean he is easy to push around, because he is not. If you cross the line, you will see his much more darker and deadly side which he inherited from his father. Once he turns 180 degrees around, he can turn into quite the big sadist that will make people tremble; deadly, and ferocious just like the lion he is. This side of him is mostly put deep down inside him, always being in control of his emotions.

He is not the most out-going guy you will meet; choosing an inside-night just watching movies, playing his guitar (which he learned from Decebal's brother Alexander) over a night out drinking and partying. He is a heavy sleeper and will take a nice nap over going out anytime, especially when raining, he loves the sound of it, its like music for this guy, a very soft lullaby.

Damien is the type of guy that will stay on the sidelines and just observing, taking into his surroundings, and be aware of the environment he is in.

This guy is also a helpless-romantic; once in a relationship he pours his whole heart into it, loyal and always supporting, he will let his feelings be known, not only through words but also through actions; giving flowers, giving his hoodie if they are cold, playing his guitar, giving gifts with deep meanings. He is traditional when it comes to courting.

Some of his habits may come off as awkward and shy, like nibbling on the strings of his hoodie, playing with his guitar pick nervously, but all in all, they are just some ticks. He also does taxidermy when he finds dead animals like bats or birds, putting their skulls on the wall on frames. You can say that he is on a much darker side when it comes to his vibes, but deep down he is truly soft.

He also has a soft spot for animals; owning a rottweiler and a black cat, like I said, his aesthetics are much darker tones.

Favorite Drink: Black vodka combined with coffee liqueur

Favorite Food: Mexican Food especially Chilaquiles (He adores his Momma Food)

Favorite Movies: Hitman, The Taken Series

Favorite Music Genre: Alternative Rock, Grunge Rock, Soft-Rock

Her relationship with her parents:

Damien's relationship with his parents is based on honesty, softness, and being as close as possible.

Decebal is very honest and warm with his son, always trying to be opened up about his history and letting Damien know who his father was and who he is now. Decebal doesn't want his son to find out the uglier things he did in life from anyone, but him, hench the honesty part.

The fact that Decebal and his brother, Alexander, pretty much didn't grow up with a father, both will be very welcoming and with open arms towards Damien, teaching him about sword-fighting, foreign languages, martial arts, and playing guitar (on Alexanders part).

Decebal will always make sure that Damien is happy and is welcomed everywhere he is, and he will always assure his son that he can ask him about anything at all.

Decebal is not exactly very proud of his history with women and he tries to teach Damien how to be a proper gentleman, that women aren't for sexual urges only, and that he should cherish them, because they do so much for men. Decebal tries to be a good influence on his son and doesn't want him to go through what he did.

He will also teach Damien never to give up, never to let anyone run over him, he will try to give as much of his confidence to Damien as possible, that when times call for desperate measures, the sword will be unsheathed and blood shall run in deep rivers.

Symbols:

Lion- a symbol of vitality, wisdom, ferocity, power, anger, and also self-control. Damien is like a sleeping lion, seeming harmless, but deep down under the wild mane lies a ferocious deadly beast that shall destroy anyone who messes with his pride (family and friends). He is wise in his words and what he thinks, being an observer and taking notes of everything.

Bat- this animal stands for communication, a long journey, swiftness, good luck, dreams, and also fear. Damien is the guy that will always be a listener to others' problems, despite not starting the communication first-hand, but he will listen intently. He is swift in his action when the time calls. It goes like this; observing in silence, takes notes of surroundings, senses danger, quick to jump into action. He is also a guy who spends a lot of time sleeping, dreaming, picturing his own fantasies, like living into his own world when he does that.

[katsukikitten]

Hi! 💋 What about a nsfw w/ bakugou where it’s Valentine’s & (quirkless) reader makes chocolates and leaves them at his work. However she forgets to leave her name so he throws them away thinking it’s from someone else. He tells her about the “anon” valentine and insults the gift.(Trying to show off his loyalty, the egoist). She cries and he,confused, goes to comfort her. When things get spicy he finds another gift under her dress. Bonus for 💕 lingerie & toys 🌹 rough Baku / quirk use 🍓cum.

Hello anon, HERE IS THE FINAL DAY OF THE EVENT. thank you to everyone who submitted. I may have energy for more I may not it really depends on my spastic ass. ENJOY!

Finally, after countless hours in the kitchen, it was done.

You step back admiring your work, the homemade box of chocolates has your own heart soaring, especially after you crafted your own molds. Intricate roses, peonies, and petunias stare back at you, petals painted in soft pastels of chocolates while the rest of the delicate square is either dark or all white chocolate.

This was one of the many times you were thankful your husband told you to stay home to work on your dream.

Your dream to be a test kitchen, to sell recipies, molds and chocolates. All sorts of things.

And it was helpful that your man was also willing to be your test subject most of the time. Today being Valentine's day was a bonus. You remove your apron, hanging it up by the kitchen door excitement thrumming through your blood as you smooth down his favorite dress you own.

The train ride seems to drag on for forever despite being only fifteen minutes away from the ominous building that scrapes the sky above you. Separating clouds as you spy his office window near the top floor.

"Stay out of my office got it?" His voice bites out to his secretary who is wearing an obnoxiously hoeish outfit. Bright red skin tight with a heart cut out over her breasts. Bakugou is annoyed with her normally what with her overly flirty behavior but is especially agitating today when he just wants to he home with you.

"Oh Bakugou-sama are you stepping to lunch. I could accompany..." Before she can even finish he looks over his shoulder with a deadly glare. So much so the flowers on your desk seem to wilt.

"No." A nasty bite before he angrily shoves popping hands in his pockets taking the stairs down in attempt to loosen his aching legs. He had been sitting at his office desk for far too long.

Just as the heavy door slams shut you step out of the elevator. Chocolates neatly placed in a white box with a cellophane window to display your hours upon hours of work.

"Ah Ai, you look lovely today." You smile, admiring her outfit as you walk towards your husband's office. She gives you a once over with cold judging eyes.

You either do not notice or do not care as you walk past her desk.

"Oh Bakugou-sama stepped out for lunch. You just missed him." She smiles cruelly only to be met by your obnoxiously bright smile that she hates.

"Perfect. Then he will come back to a surprise." You wink slipping through the door.

You notice a lot of flowers and chocolate in the trash can of his office as you make way to his desk. You make a silent reminder to yourself to lightly scold the hero.

He should at least wait a day, or hell give back out some of the stuff he recieved.

Still you neatly placed the box on his keyboard so he was sure to see it.

"Y/N? Have you had coffee yet? I've made you a mug to go." Ai pokes her head in with the paper cup in hand. You smile warmly at her, oblivious to her animosity as you grab on to the paper cup with joy.

You desperately needed caffeine. You greedily gulp at the warm liquid after saying your good byes as you headed home.

You dig through your purse for your keys to the front door spying a small pink envelop, eyes widening a bit.

"Shoot I forgot the card." You curse yourself. "Ah well I'm sure he'll know they're from me."

You set your purse on the entry table and notice a giant stuffed animal and dozens and dozens of roses on the dining room table.

A small note in his boyish handwriting sits by the vases.

*"Guess I just missed you babe. See you tonight."*

You smile until your cheeks hurt.

Hours pass as you soon begin to make the dinner of his dreams. Half way cleaning away your mess and neatly stacking chocolate orders for White day.

Bakugou alerts you that he is home by groaning at the door, slipping off his ever present combat boots.

"Smells good babe." He says wrapping strong arms around your waist, kissing on your neck.

"Mmhmmm." You hum, impatiently waiting for him to tell you how the chocolate was, "How was your day?"

"Ugh long. This holiday sucks." He kisses your throat again, "No offense babe."

You roll your eyes. For someone who thinks the holiday sucks he sure went out of his way to buy every last rose at the floral shop.

"It's just an excuse for people to buy shit and bother the fuck out if me with it." His voice darkens with agitation before he scoffs, "Like I came back to lunch to the shittiest chocolate I've ever seen. Little bitch flowers all painted and shit from some fucking random."

Your heart speeds in your chest as he continues.

"Left 'em right on my fucking keyboard as if they were more important than work." You turn to shove him off of you then. Tears streaming down your red cheeks as he blinks furiously. For the life of him he cannot tell why in the fuck you're crying.

"Baby what's wrong..." Scarlet eyes notice the molds first, how their art is vaguely familar, little white boxes stacked on the far counter. Then he notices the apron he got you is stained with colors of pinks, whites and browns.

It is then he realized that he fucked up.

"Oh baby...." He damns himself for being so callous.

"What did you do with them?!" Your voice cracks, trying hard to sound enraged but it falls flat. He bites his lip, hands smoothing over your forearms.

"I...I'm sorry. I had a skewed vision on your chocolate. I thought they were from the hoe who sits outside my office." He says quickly, "Had I known...I would have loved them. I really thought it was Ai trying to make an advance on me..."

He wipes the tears from your face, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

"You probably slaved over them all day, probably made my favorite spicy chocolate you make and I was an asshole and just trashed them...In trying to be loyal to you I hurt you..." His voice is feather soft as is his kiss on your forehead, then your cheeks and lips. He notices your dress beneath the apron that he removes slowly face contorting to lust as he drops the cloth to the floor.

He leans in slowly, running his teeth and tongue against your throat to which you moan.

"Bakugoooo." He loves the way you drag out his name, popping hands slip the zipper down your delicate back, "I..I'm still mad..."

"You don't sound mad." He says too cocky for his own good, "Isnt this helping?"

He pulls the dress to the floor, leaving you in nothing but black heels, a lace bra with little red bows in the middle and black lacy underwear. He turns you growling as he does, when he sees a matching red bow over your ass he leans down to bite a cheek.

You lightly yelp before he pushes you against the dining room table in the kitchen. Sloshing the flower water onto the set table.

"B..but dinner..." You groan as he massages you, untying the bows on your bra to slip his fingers over your nipples.

"Fuck dinner. I'm skipping to dessert." His voice is deadly as his popping back indicates his excitement, as does the hard thing in his dress pants that presses against your ass as he bites your shoulders. His words have your head floating as his finger nails scrape down your back before grabbing onto your hips tightly giving a playful thrust that causes a small moan.

Just the promise of what he is about to give has your core molten and he can tell as he pulls back. Hands slipping over slick thighs, spreading them apart.

He pulls down your underwear all the way down and when a butt plug is revealed to him he groans.

"Fuuuuck." He growls, watching you contract before he slides a finger up and down your sex, "So wet already."

"J...just for you." You pant when he reaches your needy clit, massaging it roughly setting a fast pace that threatens to have you screaming in a matter of moments. He watches you buck and squirm with a wolfish grin. He removes his hand earning a small whimper before he drops to his knees.

You are the only person he would fall to his knees for with out any sort of hesitation as his pink tongue lazily laps at your sex. Hands spreading your ass cheeks to get better access. His tongue runs stripes up your pussy, that clenches tightly with every swipe.

He laps at your core before placing his lips over your clit to give it a harsh suck.

"You must love being devoured by a wolf huh my needy lamb?"

You cry out as he continues to make a meal of you, your fingers tweaking your nipples for added stimulation.

"I...I'm clooooose." You whine as he moves his face away from your clit to plunge into your core a few times with a pointed tongue. Lapping all that he can.

"Good. Now cum on Sir's face." He growls, mouth back to your swollen clit, sucking harshly, grazing teeth and steady broad tongue has heat swelling in your chest, a light buzz in your head before it all goes quiet.

And like a sprung trap you cry out, convulsing as you ride out your high only for him to press further. Overstimulating you for another agonizingly blissful ten minutes as you lose count of how many times you've cum.

He slows to a loving pace before his fingers slide over your clit as he stands. You pant, tears forming in your eyes from an exhausted body and mind as your body slowly turns limp. Head swimming on an unseen high that has Bakugou smiling down at you, wiping your sweetness from his mouth with his sleeve.

"I'm not done with you yet, love." He says making quirk work of turning his belt into an impromptu set of handcuffs. He tightens them around your wrists giving them a tight tug. You jerk up some to which he slaps your ass.

"You okay bunty?" You nod unable to form words as he removes his pants. Stealing some of your slick to stroke himself with. He half wishes to keep you this way all night. Tied up, thighs soaked, fucked out with some drool falling from your lips.

The thought alone has him lust hungry and wanting to paint your back in the nicest of white.

Instead he finds himself teasing your clit again until you moan his name is a scream begging him to fuck you.

Your clenching cunt confirms your wishes before he plunges in busting his hips against yours as you finish your last high.

You pant beneath him, core gripping onto his length over and over that has him hungry to pull it from you again. One hand holds onto your belted hands while the other has a bruising grip on your hips. Your face is pressed agaisnt the table as are your breasts. He sets a brutal pace, pulling all the way out to his tip before plunging himself again, slamming against you with deadly precision. He pulls your arms closer to him, causing your upper body to come up some. Your nipples drag agaisnt the rough fabric of the dining table cloth earning an echoing moan.

"Fuck." He snaps, hand leaving your hip to slap your ass harshly, thrusting again and again, "You always take me so well. Your cunt is so needy for me."

He rut begins to turn sloppy and bruising as he bottoms out into you, now pushing your harshly on your back pressing you agaisnt the table. Thrusting hard enough that vases of flowers begin to knock over but that is the least of your worries.

Heat pools down your legs and in your stomach as you feel him twitch. Sending you to another high, loving nothing more than the thought to cause him to act to wild. So rough as he loses himself with popping hands that sting but never burn as his hands grip your skin. Your voice comes out in hoarse moans as you flex your pelvic muscles causing a moan to come from Bakugou. Another thrust over your sensitive g spot has you spiralling. Screaming again as he let's out a giant explosion from his back groaning as he buries himself deep inside you, filling you to the brim with hot seed. Sputtering until he stills, both of you panting, he removes the belt from your wrists, rubbing at the redness before carefully pushing them back to a more natural angle.

"I lo..." But the smoke alarm drowns him out, dinner burning on the stove. He waves his shirt over head to displace some of the billowing smoke as you remove the pan. Almost dropping it using too limp hands. He supports you, moving the pan and you to the sink. Warming a rag that he wipes you down with before kissing your neck.

"I love you." He murmurs into your throat and you smile, pulling him into your plush and bruised breasts.

"I love you too." You sing happily before he pushes out of your hug to give you a kiss and a cocky grin, he snatches you and a box of chocolate up as he carries you to the couch. He places the box into your hands before setting you to sit on top of him. He holds his mouth open, tongue outstretched that has you thinking of it against you moments ago.

"I'm dying for that chocolate baby." He says again, eyes twinkling happier than anything that you forgave him for being a big dumbass.

Next valentines day he won't throw away a single chocolate.

[moeruhoshi]

Never Hit a Girl

Never hit a girl. His father told him that as soon as he met Erza. But Igneel learned that soon after, he probably couldn’t even land a hit on her if he tried.

Never hit a girl unless they’re Erza. It was a much easier rule for the fledgling to understand. He had no will to hit Levy or Juvia, even if they hit him first. There probably wouldn’t be another girl in this world that he would want to hit.

Or so he thought for a few years. But there was a girl, Lucy Heartfilia. She came to live in Magnolia when they were about nine or so.

It’s not like he saw her in the park one day and wanted to outright tackle her. She didn’t really come anywhere near him, anyhow. She was Cana’s friend, and over the years got closer to the other girls in their friend group.

Lucy wasn’t all that used to guys and was kind of scared of them after she saw them play-fighting in the park. So they didn’t push it with her and lived just kind of knowing her for a little while. Erza took that time in between them meeting to strengthen her up, of course. Because the guys weren’t so scary once they were cowering under your fist, so she said.

Per the redhead’s rule, they didn’t even try talking to her until she was ready.

It was strange for her to be wary even as the years went on, but Levy summed up a large part of it for them.

Even if she were still scared, she would have approached them eventually. Not two or three years, she was probably fine after about a week of seeing them around. But she had a strict dad that didn’t want her stepping out of line, so she made it apparent not to gain any male friends. For their safety and her own.

If Lucy were really all that terrified, she wouldn’t have made sure the guys got chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Or gifts on their birthday. Indirect things that Cana passed along.

It was sweet in an odd way, Natsu’s smile always turned up halfway when he got something from her.

She knew he was a dragon, so his snacks were always overly spicy.

By then, they were all fourteen, still unable to speak casually together.

That’s when Natsu started noticing these strange voices. They were his own inner thoughts, but at the same time they felt separate from him. Like a mischievous voice trying to coax him into doing something dangerous. Which he couldn’t help really wanting to do.

Back to the main point at hand, he didn’t just want to hit Lucy. It was a little weird, but he really wanted to wrestle with her.

And no, that wasn’t just some replacement word for sex.

He had heard how strong she was, how Erza had secretly trained her to become almost as deadly as herself. So he was curious.

If she could pin him, if he could pin her. How he’d block a punch of hers, if she could block one of his.

He wanted to wrestle her to the ground and just...let her toss him back on his ass.

What the fuck was that though? He was upset with that kind of thinking, so he did his best to ignore it. He was glad at these times that there wasn’t much between them.

She continued to stick close to the girls for the next couple of years, baking sweets for them, giving giri chocolates to be passed through Erza. Both Gray and Gajeel could admit they had a soft spot for her at this point. They wished it hadn’t been so hard to just have a simple hang. 

But they did one year, at a summer festival. Lucy’s father was out of town for the week that lined up with the yearly event, one she had never been able to attend before. 

Her staff pretended like they didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, that being with her staying at Cana’s for the night before and after. 

They had a group chat, one Lucy couldn’t be a part of as her dad consistently read her texts. But the brunette let them all know that night that Lucy would be there and making a picnic lunch for their day out. 

They were sixteen when he realized he was in love.

Natsu thought that maybe it was just her food, the fact that she cooked like a goddess was fooling him into thinking it was attraction.

But it was surprisingly easy to talk to her, it was fun even. He felt like he’d really known her for years after a few conversations. Her smile churned his stomach, her scent swam down into him, making him purr and bristle excitedly. He looked at her with a swooned gaze whenever she turned away. And under the boom of the fireworks, she was the only thing sparkling that day.

Although, she did begin to glow a little when the moon rose, as she was a star fallen from the sky.

It was unfair that he couldn’t see her like this again, that he felt as though his heart was walking away from him.

But then, the voice returned, reminding him of that twisted urge.

He went to bed with a frown, unfortunately. It was better for them to be apart.

When they were seventeen, much had changed. They were seniors, almost adults. Maybe her father had decided to put some trust in her, or maybe he was tired of being so demanding. But she was able to choose her friends, as long as she wasn’t out past nine.

Natsu kept his distance. He could see the pain in her eyes whenever he made up an excuse to ditch the group, but he had to. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t really control those thoughts. Sometimes they got so bad when she was around, he had to run away.

He told Gray and Gajeel after he almost got the shit beaten out of him for being such a jerk. His cousin understood. Luckily he and Levy were practically married, so his inner dragon wasn’t as much of a hassle.

The girls had to, unfortunately, live in the dark about the whole situation. Which only made for the best rants during their sleepovers.

Lucy wasn’t that upset, the girls were for her. If she had to think about it, she was just disappointed because she really wanted to get to know Natsu. Because maybe she liked him a little too. He was pretty cute, after all.

So things were as they were for a good amount of time, until one day, their classes combined for a session during P.E.

Natsu gulped as he stood across from Lucy in the gym, both awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. He wanted to run over and ask the teacher to switch partners, but that would probably come off the wrong way. It was likely that Lucy already hated him for what he decided.

But he was scared. Their class was having a spar session, god knows why. It was pretty well known that most girls at this school could throw a punch that would knock you out so...? They were unfortunately never given a reason why.

“Should we...?” Lucy raised her fists a bit, shrugging with a soft smile on her lips.

“U-Um, sure,” He breathed steadily, his eyes seeing that most had begun to participate.

They weren’t wearing gloves so it wasn’t a true sparring match; he was figuring at this point that the teachers were just bored and wanted some entertainment.

He held himself back, blocking her strikes easily as it didn’t seem like she put much effort forth.

But he wanted her to. Wasn’t this the exact right time, the best opportunity for her to unleash her anger on him? Wasn’t she upset that he wasn’t near her? Didn’t she feel the pain of being apart in her heart?

Natsu shoved her a bit, unknowingly, which caused Lucy to stumble back. She pursed her lips and steadied her loose stance now.

“What was that for?” She asked with a bit of a whine.

“I saw an opening,” He shrugged, still doing his best to avoid her eyes.

She maneuvered a kick, sweeping it to catch Natsu behind his knees. He made a small shout, Lucy giggling as he landed on his butt.

“I saw an opening,” She shrugged, smiling down at the pouty glare Natsu flashed.

“Alright, lets go again,”

They both got more serious as Natsu stood up, his fire starting to bloom in his stomach. He was finally dating his odd desires, though he didn’t pay much attention to what his body was doing at the moment.

His scales began to fleck out on his skin, his eyes shifting into a more golden and shimmering shade. He failed to notice his tail pop out of his shorts, or the canines in his mouth stretch out ever so slightly. 

Lucy was too heated as well to notice much else about him, her drive to pin him down now much more important. 

He met every palm strike with a block, every kick with a shin slowing down her strike. She did the same, neither able to one up the other. Their sweat began to build, their teeth began to grit, students began to turn their heads when the room got a tad warm. But no one said anything. They were too interested, wondering if Lucy had what it took to take the fire dragon down. 

He growled when her strong scent caught under his nose, fuck, he loved how she smelled. Getting all worked up because of him, showing off her strength and presenting herself to him like this. He was crazy turned on, if the boner in his pants hadn’t made it obvious. But they were moving too quickly for anyone to notice.

He was having fun, if anything. He loved this, could do it any day of the week. Especially if he got to show off for her like this as well. He was a formidable opponent, right? Someone who was clearly able to match her speed, who was good enough to be the one to stand by her side. 

Natsu’s dragon was a little impatient, wanting more than just this back and forth, than the teasing they were engaging in. 

His tail subtly slithered up from behind, Lucy not noticing it until it wrapped around her upper thigh.

“Eek!” She stifled a small shriek as it dragged her to the floor, Natsu following to pin her down. “Hey that’s chea–” 

The blonde cut herself off when she felt something poke at her hips, suddenly flushed with embarrassment. It didn’t allow her much time to process anything else as the dragon swiftly lowered his lips to meet her own.

It wasn’t a smug peck like someone would have expected. It was warm, deep, and sensual right off the bat. 

He had a hand holding the back of her head steady while the other curled up in her open hand. 

His lips moved to smother hers before coaxing them to follow his lead. She didn’t know how to kiss, obviously, but briefly followed his lead out of curiosity. And the warmth of his lips was absolutely soothing. Lucy’s mind instantly felt hazy rather than alert, like she was being subdued into slumber.

“I love you,” He breathed out in a brief parting from her reddened lips. 

His tongue barely made it past them when suddenly, a large water cannon collided with his body and flung him into the nearby wall.

Juvia was flustered and staring at Gray with swoony eyes and weak legs. The winter sprite pretended not to see her making that face at him. Erza stood beside her and aimed her hand, an intense blush on her cheeks and a fuming gaze pointed at the soaked dragon.

“Just what the hell did you––Natsu!” The valkyrie shouted as the pink-haired boy quickly booked his ass out of a nearby window. 

He shuddered and felt his stomach sink, running back to the locker room to quickly change. 

How could he, did he have no control?! To get so lost in his own desires that he rubbed himself up against her and stole a kiss like that? His heart felt sick, like the fire ran through his veins had now gone cold. 

He ran out of the room after quickly stripping from his wet clothes, heading towards the other end of campus before flying away. 

He’d be found at home, but would rather have Erza kill him in his own bedroom instead of in front of the entire school.

So he waited painfully for his death, not even bothering to have a last meal with his parents that night. They were concerned but didn’t push him for answers. They figured it was enough to know that he was okay if they let in an absolutely fuming and enraged Erza Scarlet. But he was sure that the whole gang would be coming after him this time. Lucy probably cried...

His ears caught the ringing of a doorbell in the middle of the night; he hadn’t the will to enjoy a peaceful sleep either. His stomach turned, but he forced himself out of bed, not wanting his parents to be bothered with this whole ordeal. 

They’d probably drag him out to the park, if they were here this late. Knock him the fuck out and hang him up in a tree with pervert written in calligraphy ink on his chest. 

He opened the door with his head hung low, expecting to be grabbed and manhandled right away. 

The light clearing of a throat surprised him, he knew that voice.

“L-Lucy? What’re you doing here this late?” He asked, quickly shutting the door behind him. He felt a little odd standing there in a zip up hoodie and loose sweatpants while she was in an oversized tee an practically nonexistent shorts. 

“I snuck out and had Cana drop me off,” She said, looking over her shoulder to the brunette parked down the street on her motorcycle. “She said I should come see you, and I really wanted to, actually.”

“Eh? Really?” He was surprised, but figured she just came to punch him out and to stay the hell away from her for the rest of her life. It pained him to think as much, but he deserved it. 

“I...well, I just,” She blushed and shuddered as the wind rolled over her arms. “I wanted to know if you meant what you said to me earlier.”

“What did I say?” He wasn’t really sure, since it hadn’t really been him that was there. He remembered what had gotten him riled up and the brief aftermath, but...

“You said that you loved me.” She said matter of factly, refusing to look away from his darting gaze.

“I––”

“Either you meant it or you didn’t, just tell me,” There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, the slightest but most audible octave she could have reached. His nose caught scent of starter tears, her eyes beginning to slowly wet. 

“I meant it!” He quickly confessed, afraid that he’d have to see her cry. “Since that summer festival we all went to. I love you, but I didn’t mean to do all that today, really I––”

“Then why have you been avoiding me? Wouldn’t you have wanted to be my friend?” She was now frustrated and stomped her foot a bit. He thought it was cute.

“I did, I mean it, Luce. But I couldn’t when I thought about such weird things about you. I didn’t want to freak you out,” He breathed out, embarrassed but he jumped over that hurdle to be honest. Natsu wasn’t sure why, but it felt like an instinct. He had to be upfront with her, absolutley no lies or she’d never trust him.

“Weird things?” Her cheeks were a bashful pink, lips pulled together as she grasped her hands against them.

“I don’t think I should go into too much detail,” He chuckled slightly. “But I was just scared of hurtin’ ya. Honest.”

“Well,” Lucy quickly leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. “You won’t so, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

She started back down towards the street before he could answer, the dragon looking out into the night with a shocked expression on his face. He held his cheek and turned to look at her, his eyes fixated on her hands as they rubbed her goosebump covered arms. 

“Wait!” He called out and swiftly undid his jacket. Natsu handed it off as he jogged to catch up to her. “I don’t want ya to be cold,”

“Thank you,” They shared a shy smile before turning away to head home, their hearts both warm with resolve.

[jafndaegur]

Noise of Rain | Chapter Five

These are Two Different Worlds, She Walks the Borderline—

Sesskag

a/n: we're coming to the close of the first half! Yay! I think this will probably have about five or so more chapters. Thanks for reading this guilty indulgence of mine~

...

Sesshomaru had taken Rin to a village about a day's worth of travel from the Burial Mounds. They had happened to be in the area, and while his ward went to shop for her supplies, he thought about their next step of travel. Particularly because a bothersome idea had crept into his mind ever since they arrived.

He wanted to go visit the miko in the mountains.

Since the last time he had checked-in on her, he'd noticed they were still struggling to put together their little crop fields. Humans, so fragile and needy that if they could not somehow pertain the correct soil for their crops, they would die. Hah.

So he'd provided lotus pods out of his magnanimous generosity… he was starting to sound too much like Jaken. 

Maybe he should leave the little imp behind for a while, refresh his mind and ears from the presence of the squawky toad.

Going to the miko's would generate that reprieve—

Before he indulged the thought any further, he squashed it with the sharp pinprick of his claws against his palm. 

Since her sudden change, something drew Sesshomaru to her. Curiosity is what he would like to name it, a strange girl with the power to suddenly obliterate the most dangerous hanyou this world had seen; obviously despite his anger that he wasn't the one to kill Naraku, her actions had caught his eye. Perhaps it was the sheer brutality of her powers, a miko easily and without pause tearing apart a living creature. While he enjoyed the sight with a great deal of satisfaction, that was uncharacteristic for the young miko. The daiyoukai huffed, if he didn't know any better, the resentful energy that the miko claimed to use was drastically changing her temperament.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. The girl should feel so lucky that he graced her with the constant barrage of thought. Under normal circumstances he would have never cared. Which ultimately brought him full circle again to the main question at hand.

Why did he care, now?

"Lord Sesshomaru!"

Rin's voice cut through the air as if she were standing right next to him. She knew better than to call him when in a town unless it was something important. He sped through the street, chasing the child's delicate scent like a marked path. Damn the humans staring at him, he didn't care. If someone had dared to cause a single scratch upon Rin's flesh. Well.

It'd been a long while since he'd razed a village to cinders.

Sesshomaru halted immediately though. 

Rin walked ahead with a skip, her arms full of gauze, salve, and food. She didn’t look for him however, she looked to the side—where a figure accompanied her. Not just any figure, the miko. 

He took in the sight of her, his eyes narrowing. Her hair was shaggy and unkempt. Her clothes too big and overly wrinkled, they hung off her body with an almost scandalous air to them and he wondered if she knew how to actually properly tie her yukata. It was her eyes though, that dawned the answer to his question.

Because a small smile worked its way on her face as she talked with Rin before eyeing her attention to him. And it was those blue wonders that had been so alive and vibrant before that were now dull and tired, hollowed by sleep circles and darkened bags.

The miko who'd had twice as much liveliness as Rin, the miko who stared everything down with joy and easy-going laughter, was now a husk of a human. And that bothered him.

Because there was no explanation for her change.

"Sesshomaru!" She waved with the hand holding her fife, and he had the sudden urge to grab it and chuck it into the heavens.

"Lord Sesshomaru! You came!" Rin pranced up to him with a proud grin. "Lady Kagome mentioned how nice it would be to see you."

"Rin." He narrowed his glance. "This one is not here for your beck and call."

"I know!" She chirped eagerly.

"I wasn't sure when the next time I could see you would be. It's already been quite some time." Kagome admitted with a sheepish look. "And Rin assured me you were nearby."

Sesshomaru hummed.

"Would you like something to eat?" She continued hurriedly, squeezing Rin's hand gently before pulling away from the child. "My treat."

He wondered if she should really be making such an offer. Still the youkai inclined his head.

His ward cheered and the miko seemed to relax. They wandered down a small path in the town that led to a patio restaurant. Fried fish and pork could be seen on the grills, and the smell of rice and soup filled the air. It was homely.

"Tea, sweet soup for the girl, and two spicy plates!" Kagome ordered before ushering them to a table at the corner. 

It was obvious the other diners were wary of the little group. The rumored Edo Matriarch and a daiyoukai certainly did not make for pleasant clientele. And yet Kagome seemed to brush aside the tense atmosphere for chatter. This was the first time in a long time that Sesshomaru had heard her so carefree and well...like her old self. He indulged her.

Their food was brought out quickly, a small bowl of soup and sweet smelling fruit was handed to Rin. Two bowls of rice topped with red-sauced beef were placed in front of him and the miko. She looked ecstatic.

"Things are slow going in the Burial Mounds but what can I say. That place is pretty inhospitable. It's taken a lot of energy to set up our living there, but it's coming along."

The demon lazily ran his fingers through his hair before giving his tea a delicate sip. "This one has noticed depleted demonic presences in this area. Would that be your doing, miko?"

She hid her giggle behind the back of her hand. "I have created a new tool to draw in and horde resentful energy. Without any malicious or evil just floating around willy-nilly, there's no place for lesser youkai to feed on that negative aura."

He felt a nerve twitch. Could she really do such feats without corruption? There were reasons why meager demons fed on prevalent evil atmospheres.

"Don’t look so concerned," Kagome's smile thinned and she went to absentmindedly twirl her fife. "I've got it under control."

He wondered.

She picked up her chopsticks, laughing when Rin eagerly thanked her for the soup, and started to eat the food with gusto. Sesshomaru felt a small twinge in his chest. Maybe he pondered ceaselessly over nothing. 

He would have thought that if it weren't for the sharp blast of yellow light that flashed from the folds of the miko's robes.

She hissed and withdrew one of her yellow talismans. The red writing glittered before the paper combusted. a curse flew past her lips and she stood immediately from the table.

"Sorry Sesshomaru, this is an emergency." She bolted then, haori fluttering as she fled from the patio. 

The daiyoukai pinched the bridge of his nose, gaze sliding to Rin. "Do you have any money left over?"

"Rin saved a few silver pieces," her little mouth twisted with concern. "Is everything okay my lord?"

He rose as well. "Pay for the meal, find Jaken. I will return later."

She nodded. "Be safe Lord Sesshomaru."

The wind seemed to bend around him as he sped after Kagome, ignoring her startled yelp as he wrapped his arm around her waist and sent them flying for the Burial Mounds. Her hair whipped around like tendrils of ink.

"Miroku is waiting outside of the cave at the center." She urged him. "You'll have to wait there if you want to stick around. There's going to be a massive lash of resentful energy and I cannot handle you transforming into your true form."

"Doubt in my self control is not a good look for you," he growled.

"Nonetheless," she muttered. "Two out of control powerhouses may be beyond my reach if that were to happen."

He wanted to ask what she meant. But the monk came into view and they touched down before he had the chance. Miroku rushed to them. Roaring could be heard from the cave along with the frantic shouting of the demon slayer.

Kagome shot a panicked look to the man before running inside the cave. Sesshomaru followed her without question or care to the monk's protest.

She had been right.

The amount of evil aura permeated the small space like a fog, and it weighed heavily on his baser instincts. He clutched Tenseiga, allowing the serene energy to calm his raging inner-self.

Kohaku fought his sister in a fit of rabid rage. His eyes completely rolled back and white, and hair strewn from his usual ponytail. Unlike pass times as Naraku's puppet, he had an unnatural and unrestrained power about him that thrummed like a barrier. Sesshomaru snarled.

Kagome's music filtered through the air and the dark energy flooded towards her, which she accepted with open meridians. Kohaku's fury diverted to her and he rushed her without mercy. Sesshomaru’s temper snapped and he'd enough. He lunged forward, claws intent on putting the whelp in its place.

The music stopped. "Don't hurt him Sesshomaru, he doesn't kno—"

That hesitation. One moment. And the mindless boy rushed past the dog demon and attack Kagome front on.

To her credit, she defended well. Her fife parried his first punch, body whipping around as she stoutly kicked him in the chest. He recovered quickly and barreled straight into her, head and shoulder pushing into her torso. Slamming her straight into the wall. The miko gasped out, blood flying from her mouth as she fell to the ground with a stagger. Sesshomaru yanked the boy back and sent him spiraling across the cave. He helped the miko up, eyes widening as the light in the cave flickered.

Her eyes bled red and her balance wobbled. The resentful energy seaped into her body in torrents and in that instant Sesshomaru realized that there was nothing he could do to stop the stream.

Kagome reached into her robe and drew forth a dark grey amulet in the shape of a phoenix. The energies spiraled into it. Her eyes flashed bright crimson, and the daiyoukai loathed to admit that his control waivered. But Kohaku fell to the ground, immobile and screaming. Kagome threw the amulet into the air and caught it with a chant. The dark energy stopped its movement and it became stagnant again. Sango ran to her brother's side, cradling him close while sobbing his name.

Kagome sagged.

"I thought," Sesshomaru grit his teeth. "You said everything was taken care of."

The miko looked at him with a bloodied and tired smile. "I've lied to you before, haven't I?"

"You will stop immediately." He growled. 

She hid the phoenix amulet back in her robes, and leaned against his side. He had the strongest urge to push her off and storm away. And yet even now, he found himself gravitating to her side.

[itsallabigmess]

The One Where Time Stops Under the Fool Moon

Seasonal Stories: Halloween Requested by @delusionpuppy26​ Lee Jooheon X Female Reader 1.400 words Warnings: Be careful around men who like to howl when the sun goes down.

He does not remember how he found your shop. The boy with deep black eyes and pale skin. He just feels attracted to it, its weird herbal smells, the colorful crystals hanging from the ceiling. And in the new current waves of anger that have been taking over him, your little shop became the only place he felt some sort of lull.

He knows nothing about the disorder that has been afflicting him, but you know it very well. A simple glance at him was enough. The boy who seems completely lost in this new world that waits for him. This world that demands too much and rarely gives something good back..

It brakes your heart, just by looking at him. Your coven told you to not interfere, but they have been telling you that ever since you opened your shop. Your kind should not mix with other creatures. No sense, you would say. You were all just trying to get by in a world that thought of you as nothing but stories for children. And this boy, poor thing. Whoever did this to him, left him completely alone. That would only cause trouble. So you decided to help any way you could.

He seemed completely lost when you said hi, the first time he came in. Seconds passed until he made sense of your face and where he was standing. You smiled broadly and offered a cup of tea. “I’m sorry for intruding,” he said as ashamed as if he had just committed a crime, body falling heavy on a padded chair.

“Nonsense, I welcome every kind of creature in my shop.”

He looked up at you, puzzled by the choice of words, but drank the tea you offered, the spicy taste tickling his throat and making his entire body completely warm.

“Tea is free for first visitors,” you nodded to the empty cup in his hand, “but if you become one of my regulars, I will make you a special price. A get a lot of regulars, you see. They don’t buy much other than my oils, but they like to stay here for a while, reading something from the shelves and drinking and resting their minds,” you explained waving your hand around to the many shelves filled with books and jars, to the couches and puffs on the back of the store. “I don’t mind, really. I enjoy the company. So, what let’s see what I can get you...”

“Jooheon… I don’t -”

“I’m Y/N,” you waved him to follow you. “I’m sure I have something just right for you,” you said, looking around your shelves, tapping your index fingers on your chin. “Of course!” you pulled the step stool and reached for a light pink bottle on the top shelve. “This one is perfect. But also…”

Jooheon watched as you paced fast behind the wooden stand, filling a cloth bag with herbs and seeds, wondering if he should just leave but not wanting to be rude. Before he could realize, Jooheon had a heavy paper bag in his hands.

“Now, remember,” you said, “Drink a cup of tea every night before going to sleep. Just a few drops of oil over your chest should be enough. And I added a couple of lavender candles. They are my favorite for sleepless nights. I’m sure they will help you too. And don’t worry,” you touched his arm, squeezing it gently. “It’s on the house. Well, at least this time. Come back whenever you feel like it.”

You welcomed him every day after that for the next weeks. Jooheon would appear just as the sun was going down, and there wasn’t anyone around. It was when he felt more agitated, and when he needed the peace you offered the most. You taught him how to make different kinds of tea and he always helped you clean around as you told him stories about your day. Jooheon rarely shared anything about himself, and you feared the reason was the life he had before was taken from him. With each passing day, Jooheon was becoming something else.

The night that was fadded to happen, Jooheon could barely stand up. He could not remember how he got to the shop. He could barely remember anything other than stumbling in the darkroom he had been living and then crawling over broken glass. And he remembered seeing your face before everything went black.

When Jooheon came to his senses, the first thing noticeable was the gentle smell of lavender from the candles you had given to him. His entire body burned and ached, yet he could barely move, arms and legs being attached to the wall by heavy chains.

“I’m sorry I had to do this,” your voice came from across the room. When you came into focus, he noticed he was still at the shop, in the back room where you used to make your oils and lotions. “It will be better tonight, I’m sure. Drink this.” You kneeled by his side, pouring cold liquid in his mouth.

“What hap- what happened?” Jooheon stuttered, trying to sit down. You moved fast to remove the chains from his ankles but kept the ones around his wrist. It was already morning, but you needed to make sure.

“You need to remember, honey. You will not believe me if I just tell you. Drink more, it will help.”

Jooheon took the rest of the drink you gave him and squinted his eyes. Part of his clothes was ripped and covered with blood. On your forearm, Jooheon saw cuts shaped like claws. And then it started coming to him. “I did that to you, didn’t I?

“I was careless,” you said, shaking your head. “I thought I had everything prepared but you were stronger than I expected. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Now, close your eyes,” you sat on your knees and held his face with both hands. “Try to think, when did it all happen. Who did this to you?”

The memories came slowly, in flashes. Jooheon remembered his friends. He remembered being out with them one night, going into the woods at night. He remembered strange faces, people he never met before that were not really people. He remembered a fight, and screams, and blood and pain. He leaned against your hand, a tear rolling down his face. “I was not supposed to be alive.”

“No, honey,” you wiped away his tears, “The ones that did this to you, they can be a very mean kind. They should not have harmed you or your friends. And they should have not left you alone to deal with it by yourself,” you let him go, only to release the chains around his wrists. They were bruised a little, just like his ankles. You would have a full day of making oils and creams for both of you. And it was only the first night.

“Can you get up?” You got to your feet, helping him up by his arm. “You need to get cleaned up and eat. I’m afraid the only thing your stomach will hold is raw meat. With a lot of blood. And then I need you to help me fix the shop. You did quite a mess last night. But then again,” you shrugged, “so did I.”

“I should leave,” Jooheon wailed, trying to leave the hold of your hands. “I’m dangerous, I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“Oh shush,” you scoffed, “Full moon lasts less than a week. From what I know, the first transformations are worse because your body is not used to it. You just need practice and be well fed. And when the full moon is gone you can leave. Or you could stay. Help me with the shop? You are always here anyway and already know your way around.”

You looked up at his face, Jooheon lost in thought and sadness. Walking him upstairs to your flat, you led him to the bathroom, where clean clothes waited for him. 

You spent so much time in the shop it made no sense to have a home elsewhere. Nobody ever been on the second floor before and you were glad Jooheon was the first. You might have pitted him at first for his situation, but over the past weeks, you grew overly fond of the boy who was more lost than ever.

And as you cleaned and patched his cuts, Jooheon, ever so embarrassed about the little destruction he has caused, asked you if he could stay.

“For as long as you want to,” you nodded, and for the first time, you had a quick glimpse of what a smile would look like on his face.

[oftenderweapons]

TEASERS FOR VOTING OPTIONS

(voting window February 16th 2021 — April 30th 2021)

Hello, here you’ll find small teasers for the voting options available in the poll. The teasers are placed in no particular order, simply following the alphabetical order of the title.

I might as well take the chance to remind you that you have only one vote, please do not vote two or more times!

NSFW content is featured under the cut.

Link at the bottom of the post ✨✨✨

Tango for Three

Sorry, I don’t have much to say about this prompt, since it’s pretty much a given. It features all the couples, with the girlfriends as OCs and a female reader as a third party involved in a threesome. I think I could generically tell you some features about each piece.

Namjoon [mxrxVixen, one night stand, smut] Domme!Vixen, Slightly subby!Namjoon, sub!reader, discover virgo!Namjoon people-pleaser side

Jin [mxrxAngel, one night stand, smut] Hard dom!Jin, sub!reader, sub!Angel, professor-students roleplay

Yoongi [mxrxKitten, arranged threesome, smut] Oral galore, Voyeur!Yoongi, very bisexual (and feral) Kitten

Hoseok [mxrxGiggles, one night stand, angst, smut, fluff] sub!Giggles, insecure!Giggles, Hoseok and Reader reassure her and guide her through the scene. Soft dom!Hobi, Soft domme!reader

Jimin [mxrxPrincess, arranged threesome, smut, fluff] switch!Jimin, domme!reader, switch!Princess

Taehyung [mxrxLace, arranged threesome, smut] Voyeur!Taehyung, very very bisexual Lace, Domme!Lace, Dom!Taehyung, sub!reader

Jungkook [mxrxCandy, one night stand, smut] dom!Jk, sub!Candy, sub!reader, Jungkook can multitask like a pro.

The Mythological Party at Jackson Wang’s

This small series uses the Party at Jackson Wang’s trope, giving it a bit of a spicy twist. For a second let’s just pretend that they’re absolutely free to do and act as they like without any actual repercussions in terms of gossip and rumors.

Namjoon: [mxr, established relationship, angst (probably a lot), smut, fluff] At the party Namjoon and Vixen meet one of his exes. Quite shocked by the encounter — and the scary resemblance between her and the ex — Vixen spends the rest of the night with a drink in hand. The alcohol — and an overly friendly, overly uninhibited Princess — lead to something that makes blood boil in Namjoon’s veins. He decides to take her back home to teach her respect, however, Vixen’s uncooperative response makes him rethink his approach.

Jin: [mxr, established relationship, smut, fluff] After Jin accidentally spills his drink on Angel’s pretty silk blouse, he decides to help her clean up. Who could have guessed it was exactly how he was planning things to go?

Yoongi: [mxr, established relationship, angst, smut, fluff] Yoongi and Kitten are most definitely not party people. That’s why they spend most of the night sitting on the sofa, in a corner of the room, comfortable in their little bubble. Still, Yoongi notices the curious and longing stares that his girlfriend is receiving. As soon as they reach their apartment, she is more than willing to remind him who she belongs to.

Hoseok: [mxr, established relationship, fluff, smut] Giggles is uncharacteristically quiet for the whole night, causing everyone to worry, except for Hoseok who happens to know very well what’s affecting her. Plus, the excessive proximity between Vixen and Princess seems to give her the final blow.

Jimin: [mxr, established relationship, angst, smut, fluff] It is rare for Jimin and Princess to have a chance to actually get loose a little. But when Princess gets a bit too loose with Vixen, he decides that it’s time for his girlfriend to learn a lesson.

Taehyung: [mxr, established relationship, fluff, smut] Princess and Vixen’s little game obviously catches Lace’s eye. Taehyung notices his girlfriend being distracted, and personally takes care of her uncomfortable position.

Jungkook: [mxr, established relationship, fluff, smut] Just like Lace, also Jungkook feels a bit affected by Princess and Vixen’s actions. Candy notices and offers him some relief.

The Wild Nights

Namjoon: [mxr, established relationship, idol!AU, smut, fluff] Vixen organises a small celebration for her birthday in a special venue she knows pretty well. Namjoon discovers a new side of Vixen that makes him absolutely weak. In a quite public place.

Jin: [mxr, established relationship, idol!AU, smut] Jin and Angel decide to spend a special night at home, profiting of Jin’s excellent acting skills and a role that fits him a bit too well.

Yoongi: [mxr, established relationship, idol!AU, smut, fluff] Yoongi is a workaholic. To distract him Kitten decides she can mingle business and pleasure for him. It’s time to find out just how sensitive Yoongi’s ears are.

Hoseok: [mxr, dating AU, idol!AU, smut, fluff] Set after Cold Nights, Hoseok and Giggles have finally confessed their feelings and are ready to take a big step into this great new adventure. In doing so, they decide to christen their relationship, and some new equipment too.

Jimin: [mxr, established relationship, fluff, smut] Jimin decides to show Princess how much he trusts her. However, he might need an extra pair of cat ears to explain just how whipped he is for her. Actually, cropped.

Taehyung: [mxr, established relationship, smut] Lace has always been open about her past, as she explained in Cold Nights. Taehyung decides he would like to see her in that kind of environment and Lace finds out a safe way for the two of them to experience that together.

Jungkook: [mxr, established relationship, smut, fluff] Set the weekend after Love Talk. Jungkook and Candy spend the weekend indoors and after getting bored, they decide to fool around a little. Thank goodness his apartment is big enough to play hide and seek.

———————————————

Here is the link to vote through Google Form

[insfiringyou]

First time having anal sex with Jungkook

Contains: Him meeting your/his girlfriend’s parents for the first time. Fluff. Smut. Fingering. Oral sex. Anal sex while on period.

While this scenario can be enjoyed on its own, we imagine the reader here to be Young-soon, our headcanon girlfriend for Jungkook (his second serious girlfriend). This takes place around four months into their relationship. Find our more about our headcanon universe and girlfriends here.

We have also written first time anal scenarios for both V and Suga which you may be interested in reading as well as our list of most likely to want to try anal sex.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin  /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & Our full masterlist can be found here

Rated content below cut

“Kook.” You whispered in the dark, shuffling slightly against the thick duvet to face him, hoping he wasn’t asleep. Despite the warm, sunny weather earlier in the day it had become an unseasonably cold night and you had opted for the quilted bed-sheets, pulling them from the closet in the corner of the room and making up your bed like you had as a child. At least you didn’t need your hot water bottle, Jungkook’s body always seemed warm and comforting and you had spent the last half an hour with your feet pressed against his legs, sharing his heat. 

He had been worried that your parents would object to him sleeping in the same bed as you, with you staying over at their house and, while it was true they had not been overly fond of your last boyfriend, they had welcomed Jungkook with open arms, surprising you both. You suspected, on some level, that it was due to his age. Your ex had been a couple of years older than you and, on the few occasions you had taken him to meet your parents at your childhood home in Incheon, you had been asked to keep the bedroom door open at night. You rolled your eyes every time, you were in your mid-twenties, not a child, but they had insisted. In hindsight, you wondered whether they had seen something in him you had not and whether they knew that after two years of being together he would suddenly get cold feet and decide he wasn’t the dating type after all.

Jungkook, however, had inspired a different reaction from them the moment he stepped foot on the decking in your garden. Your dad was shovelling coal for a BBQ onto the grill and your mom was preparing some desserts but they had both stopped what they were doing to embrace him. He had been visibly nervous on the drive down but he soon relaxed when he saw he had nothing to worry about. After dinner, your father had taken Jungkook aside, into the front living room to show him his prized model train set and later, when you headed to bed, you heard your parents pass your bedroom door without protesting that it was fully closed.

You had been drifting in and out of sleep for the past thirty minutes but couldn’t fully commit. With your new apartment in disarray following your recent move and him spending most of his time in the shared house with the other members, it had been several weeks since you last slept in the same bed as Jungkook. The solidity of finally having him beside you in nothing but his boxers and an old white T-shirt was too much to bear. Your mind kept returning to the sweet, bashful smile he had sported when your father wrapped him in his arms and the way he bowed politely to your mother, a blush staining his beautiful olive skin; you had never seen him look so happy and proud. Your heart ached for him and your body craved his touch. The light on the landing outside your room was turned on but your parents had gone to bed some time before.

“Mm?” He murmured. His voice was tired but he perked up at your movement, straightening himself beneath the covers.

Shifting your body closer to him, you whispered. “I really want you right now.” 

There was a pause as he registered what you were saying. “Oh.” His hand found your shoulder and brushed the skin gently as he moved forward and captured your lips. He was soft against you as he leaned over your body, kissing you into the covers. You became aware of the wet sound of your lips meeting and opening against each other ringing out in the otherwise silent space; the house was in a suburb and lacked the kind of traffic you had grown used to in Seoul, but the noise only seemed to intensify your desire. By the time his hand finally reached the crotch your panties, pushing gently past your thighs to rub a line down the centre, you were practically squirming into his palm. 

His breath was audibly strained when he broke away from your lips and, in return, you stifled a moan as he slipped his index and middle finger beneath the gusset to gently rub your clit, circling the bud with the pads of his fingers in little, precise movements. 

“Is this good?” He whispered ticklishly into your ear, making you quiver. He could not exactly be described as shy in the bedroom, but he was always eager for feedback; wanting to please you. Moving forward blindly, you pecked his cheek in reply and bit your lip as he continued this motion a few times; his minty breath warm against your cheeks as he held you close, eventually probing downwards towards your entrance. You took a sharp intake of breath as you suddenly remembered...

“Wait...I’m on a period.” You murmured. 

He paused before starting to pull his hand away but you reassured him. 

“It’s okay...I’m wearing a tampon.”

“Oh.” He said, a little wearily. You blushed as you realised he didn’t really know what to do. You had been lucky so far in your time together that your periods had not coincided with the nights you had spent together and so you had never had cause to wonder how squeamish he was. You reached for his wrist, tucked between your thighs, and stroked it gently, savouring the comforting feeling of the fine hairs on his arm against your fingertips. 

“It’s okay.” You reassured him. “Just be careful.” 

He nodded. “I will.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he slipped his hand away from you momentarily, pulling it from under the elastic leg of your panties. He spat gently into his hand, brushing his fingers against his lips before dipping back into your knickers; moving against you once more as he rubbed your swollen clit. The extra lubrication was appreciated and you threw your head back against the pillow as he moved down to press his open mouth against your camisole, kissing your hard nipples through the fabric. You did your best to remain quiet, knowing your parents were asleep just across the hallway, but let out the occasional breathy whimper, stifled by Jungkook’s mouth as he pressed back against your lips, more firmly this time. 

Historically, your orgasms came sporadically, even when you touched yourself and it soon became apparent you were not going to reach your high. After so long without sex, you wanted nothing more than to have him completely; for him to press his hot, sweaty bare skin against yours and fuck you until you screamed his name but you knew that wasn’t really plausible in your current situation. Your mind raced through the possibilities as you pulled away from your boyfriend’s lips reluctantly. 

“Do you want me to give you a blowjob?” You whispered against his cheek. He shook his head in reply, slowing his fingers. 

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to.” 

You couldn’t help but peck his face again. His body smelt of the spicy, sweet deodorant he had put on before bedtime and you craved him so much you thought you could cry. “Can we try something else?” You begged, slipping your fingers through his and holding his hand loosely. 

“Like what?” He asked. 

You thought for a moment, considering the possibilities. One, above all others, made your breath hitch and your heart race. “Anal?” You suggested, predicting his reaction correctly nano-seconds before you felt his body stiffen slightly against you. He paused, clearly taken aback. 

“Is it...” He started, before changing his mind. “Have you done it before?” He finished after a moment’s thought. It was mainly concern you sensed in his voice but the thought that telling him the truth might make him unnecessarily jealous crossed your mind.

“It’s okay...” You avoided the question but sensed he had already guessed the answer. “We can stop if you don’t like it.” 

You sensed he was still suspicious you were kidding him as he took another moment to think it through as you adjusted your positions on the bed. The mattress squeaked a little under your weight as you leaned over him and began to work him through his underwear. He let out a loud gasp which you quickly stifled with a kiss as you pulled down his waistband and began to stroke his thick length in slow, languorous motions. Giving you pleasure never failed to arouse him and, as suspected he was already rock hard and extra sensitive. When you were confident he had his vocals under control, you pulled away to take him into your mouth; gliding up and down a couple of times to slicken him.

He held your hair back lovingly as you pleased him with your warm lips and tongue, making sure to pull away before he could get too worked up and lose control. You removed your camisole and panties as you shifted positions once more and settled against the mattress, piling a couple of pillows up beneath your waist to prop your lower body up. 

“Here.” You whispered. “Hold my leg.”

He complied as he nestled himself close to you, supporting your right thigh against his waist to angle your body upwards as you guided his spare hand between your thighs and to your arse. His fingers moved against you momentarily, brushing the puckered skin gently with a slight intake of air, before moving upwards to press against your cunt, figuring out the anatomy. You gasped as you felt his fingers briefly touch the string of your tampon before moving back to your other hole. He nestled himself closer as he pulled away to grasp his length, holding it straight and pressing it against you gently. 

You reached between your legs to stop him before he could penetrate and shuffled slightly to reach into the top draw of your bedside table silently. The anticipation, in addition to the dark and almost-silent environment you were currently in was causing you both to feel a little nervous and you were a little skittish and impatient as you shuffled blindly through the jumble of objects in your draw to find the bottle of lubricant you were sure you had left in here during your last visit home. 

Sensing your frustration, Jungkook moved forwards to help, finding the small bottle first and, with a moment’s difficulty finding the pump, spread the liquid liberally over his cock. He gasped breathlessly. “Oh, it’s cold.” 

You grinned and pecked his lips as he embraced you once more; reaching out and taking his slick member in your hand. Slower than slow, you pressed him against your entrance, opening your mouth wide in a silent moan as you felt the very tip of him press into you. He resisted the urge to push forwards and held his hips still, patiently waiting for you to guide him inside, inch by inch. Eventually, after a few minutes of gentle encouragement, he was able to immerse himself fully and let out an involuntary groan.

You froze below him and, realising his mistake, began to cough a couple of times to try and mask it. “Sorry.” He whispered. His voice sounded genuine and you grinned, despite yourself as he started to move his hips against you, being more careful in stifling his moans and grunts as your body accommodated him. The sensation, vaguely familiar but also different, was exquisite. You had tried anal twice before with your most recent ex, but it had never felt as good as this.You felt full in a delicious, complete way that you could not get from vaginal sex and, while there was some discomfort beneath the pleasure, knowing it was Jungkook doing this to you made your entire body throb and tingle delightfully. You knew that he was feeling overwhelmed too from the way he struggled to control his whines. It was something new and taboo for him and something strangely intimate for you; you didn’t think you would have asked him to do this to you a few weeks ago.

He kept his pace slow but, after a few minutes, moved his fingers back to your clit; rubbing you in time with his motions. 

“That feels good.” You allowed yourself to moan as he worked you up. You were surprised when you felt your orgasm approach; coming in sharp and hot and borderline painful. He increased the pace of his fingers but kept his hips slow as you thrust your pelvis against him, your entire body shuddering violently and causing the mattress to squeak in its wooden frame. 

“God.” You called out, as quietly as you possibly could as your laboured breathing slowed down. He entered you once, twice more, burying himself slowly but deep before slipping himself out of you. It didn’t take long for him to finish himself off; grasping his cock tightly and jerking leisurely; enjoying the slower pace. After he spilled himself into his palm, he reached over to the bedside table and slipped a couple of tissues from the gap in the cardboard box on top, cleaning himself quietly. 

“I can’t believe we just did that...” You grinned as he returned from the en-suite, the light from the small room framing his nude body beautifully. Your breath was still heavy from the intensity of your climax. He climbed into the bed as you rose to clean yourself. 

“Me neither.” The wonderstruck sound of his voice struck a chord in your chest as you considered how happy he had been all day. 

“I really hope we weren’t too loud.” You deliberately lowered your voice, suddenly aware that it was three a.m. 

A frown creased his otherwise blissful face. “I wouldn’t want them to hate me.” He said, referring to your parents. 

You shook your head reassuringly as you reached the doorway to the bathroom. “They adore you. I think they want you to live here permanently.” 

You saw his expression change in an instant as his worry was replaced with the brightest, most blazing smile you had seen. The urge to wrap him in your arms and never let go was suddenly overwhelming. With a regretful sigh, you turned to the bathroom. 

***

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[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 32)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31

Part 33: here

.

VIVI POV

"Which of you alerted hospital staff to Lance Kingman’s condition?”

The officer steps into the room and Vivi spots a second man behind him. Lewis stands to greet them, and Vivi lets him take the lead. Conversation washes over her, buzzing like an annoying fly in the background. With all the new information being dropped into her lap, she is finding it difficult to think clearly.

‘Just because it’s weird, doesn’t mean we should discount it.’ How many times had she said that? A lot apparently, if Lewis is quoting it. But how does one fit all the weird things together into something coherent? 

She loosely remembers Lewis and Arthur talking about an almost violent encounter with some leather-wearing wacko, but that had occurred at least a week before Arthur’s odd behaviour began. If the man was threatening Arthur for whatever reason, surely she would have seen some signs earlier instead of a steamily overnight change.

Why even mention ‘demon possession’ if that were the case. It didn't exactly add to the mysterious stranger's credibility in the 'find Arthur' department.

What did any of this even mean?

Vivi's not on Lewis's level when it came to reading and sympathising with people, but she is good at connecting actions to motivation.  Nothing happened in a vacuum, there was always a cause and effect. There had to be some critical fact missing because, while some things fit together, others were completely random. Vivi exhales loudly, shifting her focus back onto Lewis. All she is doing is going over the same data points and hitting the same inconstancies. Futile.

“I’m a friend of his nephew, Arthur Kingsman. We heard Lance was in the hospital and came to offer support. It took us several hours to get here though,” Lewis is speaking, sounding confident and self-assured. He is talking in his ‘I'm dealing with people I don’t want to deal with, but I’m still going to be friendly’ voice. Unlike her and Arthur, Lewis is usually happy to interact with strangers, so she doesn’t hear this voice often.

“…We drove from Oak Ridge.”

Vivi, from her seated position, examines the two policemen more thoroughly. They don’t seem overly worried about her and Lewis, asking questions in a professional, concise manner. She has missed the introductions, so she doesn’t know either of their names.

“That’s pretty far off. Do you live there?”

“No. We were on a road trip. Arthur, he was with us, but he came back a few hours ahead.”

“Hmm. Have you see Arthur since then?”

“No,” A note of exhaustion is now creeping into Lewis’s tone like he has answered this question already.

“And you came straight to the hospital after arriving in Milton.”

“Yes."

There is a nod like the officer has just confirmed something important and Vivi realises that, if Lance had been attacked again -the officers hadn’t exactly confirmed anything yet- then Arthur is looking mighty suspicious. Arthur would never hurt his Uncle. But these guys didn’t know that. Statistically, these sort of things are usually a result of inter-family conflict.

“I met a weird guy in the car park who was looking for Arthur,” She pipes up, going with her ‘I’m just a dumb kid, what do I know’ voice, “Does that help?”

She has no problem throwing the mysterious stranger under the bus. Especially if the running theory, that the man is threatening Arthur, is true.

“We are not discounting anything. Which car park was this Miss Yukino?”

“It’s Vivi.” Lewis must have introduced her already. “It was the car park near the open mall. He had dark hair, a beard, wore a leather vest and had a bunch of bandages over his side like he’d been in a fight.”

The second man writes something down in his phone, frowning. There. Hopefully, that would throw their attention off Arthur and, to a lesser extent, her and Lewis. On top of everything, Vivi doesn’t want Arthur becoming a suspect in an attack on his own Uncle.

“Oh right!” She says brightly, standing, “Here.” She hands over the business card with the number. She has two of them, so it wasn’t like she was going to miss it.

“He gave me this. Maybe it'll help.”

Perplexed, the officer takes the card.

“So is Uncle Lance okay? What exactly happened? The hospital hasn’t told us much.”

“We’re really worried,” Lewis tacks on, from where he’s been watching Vivi’s attempts to subtly throw attention off Arthur.

At this, the second officer, the one who had been quiet up until now, steps forward. When he speaks his voice is warmer, accented in a way she can’t place, and not quite so coolly professional.

“Unfortunately, with the ongoing investigation, the hospital isn’t releasing any information on Lance Kingsman. We’ll look into this strange man …so there’s no need to worry.”

“But…”

“It’s late, and Hospital visiting hours are ending. You said you drove from Oaks Ridge? That’s a long drive, so the two of you should head home and get some rest." Lewis makes to interject, but the officer puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"Nothing is going to happen between now and tomorrow. You are better off waiting in a more comfortable environment and coming back. Besides, you’re friend, Arthur, if he hasn’t been through here already, is more likely to turn up somewhere familiar. If you see him at all, tell him to get in contact. He’s not in trouble or anything, but we’d like to ask some questions.”

Vivi crosses her arms and has to clamp her jaw shut to prevent herself from saying something rude. That would just get them into trouble. She lets Lewis handle the rest of the interaction, watching, disgruntled, as Lewis relays their addresses and phone numbers in case they are needed for follow-up questions.

“Tempo? I have a sister up there. A cute town that one,” The second officer comments, apparently surprised.

“It’s cosy…” Lewis shrugs loosely, prompting, “How long has she been in Tempo for?”

Yeah. If by ‘cosy’ Lewis meant suffocating, then sure.

“…Last five years. Here,” A photo is pulled from the man’s wallet. “See. That’s my Niece. Cute an’t’ she”

Lewis nods along, scanning the photo, commenting thoughtfully, “Her name wouldn’t be Sarah Arias? I think I’ve seen them in the diner a few times…It’s a small town.”

“Haha. That wouldn’t happen to be the big purple building? She loves purple, so it’s the only one they go to.”

“Yeah, my parents own it.”

“That place has some crazy spicy food. Hey, Anderson… Maybe you should go there sometime.”

Vivi notes that ‘Anderson,’ has pretty much checked out of the conversation, focused on writing notes.

“Call me Michael by the way. Here, hold on. This is the department number and here is my extension,” He rips out a page, writing as he goes, “I work for Downtown Milton. Ask for me if you have any trouble, or your friend shows up. We’ll get this sorted, no problems. Anderson here is from the big city so he’s dealt with all sorts and cases.”

After more empty reassurances, promising that Lance was ‘probably going to be okay’ and ‘this hospital is one of the best in the state,’ they are escorted by Michael to the hospital’s main door. Most of the people in the foyer are gone, leaving it deserted. Two other officers are standing off to the side, attempting to be discrete. So that excluded sneaking back in and interrogating hospital staff. Not that she thought it would do them much good. 

Her and Lewis step back through the hospital’s entrance. Michael disappears, returning to his partner. It is telling when Lewis immediately slumps, sighing loudly. 

“Here,” Lewis hands her the number, rubbing his face. She doesn’t know what to do with it, but she slips it into her purse anyway. They share a long tired look. Exhaustion is mirrored across both of their faces. Now what?  

She is tired. Lewis is tired. They've been up since six, and it has been nonstop emotional curveballs since. That, coupled with eight hours of continuous driving, is probably contributing to the sudden wave of helpless defeat weighing on her chest. Now there is no obvious goal to work towards, she is at a loss.

The sky is quickly darkening, and it’s a hundred times windier than when she entered the hospital. Vivi’s hair blows about every which way, getting into her eyes and mouth. Lewis doesn't fare much better. Whereas usually, this would be a prime opportunity for some light teasing, right now, defeat is killing any amusement to be had. All she has is questions. No answers. No idea where Arthur is or whether Uncle Lance will be okay. All this effort and nothing to show for it.

"That doesn't look good," Lewis interrupts their moment of silent commiseration, nodding to the clouds which are blocking out the remaining sun, hastening nightfall.

"I dunno...always nice to have some mood lighting," She grouches. Shitty weather to reflect their shitty situation. They trudge back to the truck, huddling together, Vivi using Lewis's lager form as a windbreak.

"I can drop you at your place on the way to mine? If you want. I’ll pick you up in the morning. We can be back at the hospital first thing," Lewis offers, voice almost too quiet to hear over the wind.

"No.” She says it bluntly, too tied to beat around the social bush, “I’m staying with you."

Her and Lewis are sticking together until all this, whatever it was, is over. Despite her mental and physical fatigue, she knows there isn’t going to be a lot of sleeping going on. Not with so much stuff crowding her mind. Better to use that time planning and theorising with Lewis.  Maybe, she can also think up some new goal to pursue.

"Okay," Lewis nods, giving the smallest of smiles and Vivi punches him affectionately on the shoulder. He has no right looking that relieved.

The truck is easily spotted in the quickly emptying parking lot. Mystery is still in the cab, paws on the window, attention glued to them as they approach. He doesn't do his usual happy-dog-reunion-routine when Vivi lets him out, instead sniffing at her legs in an almost urgent manner.

"I need to call mama and let her know we're coming home. Would you drive?" Lewis draws her attention away from Mystery. She motions with an ‘up’ gesture and the dog leaps into her arms in a practised action.  She runs a hand through his fur in a calming motion.

"Yeah. I'm fine with that. Is there going to be room for me to…”

“You know there’s always space for you at my place,” Lewis anticipates her question, “Besides, it has barely been 24 hours since we left, so the mattress you slept on is probably still set up.”

The mention of time sours both their expressions. Hard to think that all this drama has occurred within 24 hours.

Vivi makes her way around to the driver’s seat, preparing for another bumpy ride as she re-familiarises herself with the truck. Mystery squashes himself between them and spends a long moment staring intently at her profile. It's kind of weird. When Lewis takes out his phone, she is distracted, dividing her attention between eavesdropping on his call and the road. It becomes significantly harder when Lewis transitions to Spanish because her understanding of it is rudimentary at best. Still, she can make a few assumptions based on his tone, like how he answers with an almost fake-sounding happy voice then transitions to somewhat exasperated, meaning he is probably talking to one of his sisters. A shift to a more tired and exhausted sound means he’s talking to his mom.

Vivi is so focused on Lewis that she almost rams straight into a motorbike when it pulls unexpectantly out in front of her.

“Shit,” She swears and swerves to avoid the suicidal idiot. Mystery is knocked over and almost off the seat entirely.

Quickly, Vivi winds down the window, shouting at the disappearing figure, “HEY! WHY DON’T YOU LEAN TO DRIVE!” The motorbike’s engine revs as if in response. Behind her, a car sounds its horn.

“HEY…” Before she can start yelling at the car as well, Lewis’s calmer voice intrudes.

“No. I’m okay. It’s Vivi. She’s road raging.”

She turns to glare, “I am not road raging. That looney cut out right in front of me. He’s lucky he isn’t dead.”

Lewis raises a brow and returns to talking in Spanish. She huffs, letting her irritation simmer down. The motorcycle is gone now, but she glares after it, rewinding the window to keep out the dust and wind.

They arrive at Pepper Paradiso just after sunset to her relief. She is definitely not experienced enough to drive a foreign vehicle at night. Not when the roads around Tempo are poorly lit, and the thick clouds overhead are completely blocking out both the moon and stars, making the night darker than average. Occasionally, Vivi sees a flash of lightning off in the distance.

“I told mama about Arthur being missing and that Lance is in hospital,” Lewis says as they pull in. He is rubbing his face in a tired motion she mirrors a second later.

“Yeah? What did she say.” Lewis’s mom was, in a word, stoic. She is a person Vivi tries very hard to impress even with repeated reassurances that it was unneeded.

“Not much. Only that everything is worse when you’re tired, and there will be food waiting.”

“Oh…” Vivi doesn’t really know what to say. Usually, the thought of a Pepper prepared dinner would be enough to perk her up. She’s not even hungry.

Pepper Paradiso, usually open later, appears to have closed early today. However, the interior lights are still on, spilling through wide glass windows, illuminating the empty parking bays next to the diner in an island of light. With the only other light sources being the distant houses of Tempo and one solitary street lamp several yards down the main road, it is exceptionally welcoming. Vivi exhales long and hard, bringing the truck to a stop.

As she and Lewis clamber out, dragging luggage with them, the apparent lack of wind catches her attention. Unlike Milton, the air here is thick and stagnant. The prelude to a storm. Perfect. On the horizon, lightning flashes. Grumpily, Vivi pulls out her phone. She should really call her dad. He’d want to know she was back in town. What she really wants is to call her mom. But her mom is in Washington for a conference, meaning it was late, so the time difference wouldn’t work out too well. Her gran didn’t have a phone, so that was out.

“Hey, Lew. I’m going to call my dad. I’ll be in in a second.”

Lewis, now carrying both his and Arthur’s bags, nods, reaching out to take her's as well. Through the window, she sees the silhouette of Lewis’s mom moving to greet him. The main sliding doors are locked like they always are after hours, so she is walking around to come out the side ‘employee’ entrance. The entrance which also led back into the main living area.

As her phone rings, she moves out of view and around to the opposite side of the truck, allowing her to stare out into the inky black desert. Far in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminates the empty landscape. This should be private enough.

“Vivi. I thought I told you to call once you stopped. It’s been two days!”

She rolls her eyes, “Nice to hear from you too.”

“I was worried. This is the first time you’ve been away for such a long period. A text message would have sufficed.”

“I message mom. Also, I’m an adult, I can figure this stuff out myself.” Only, she couldn’t. Not really. But, it wasn’t like ‘dealing with a best friend running off for unexplained reasons’ is a typical adult skill. She is getting off track.

“Well, I’m back in Tempo so you can stop panicking.”

“You’re back in…”

“I’m staying at Lewis’s tonight,” She waves away any incoming questions, “I just wanted to ask you something real quick is all.”

A pause.

“So like, I know that you hate my hobby and all, but is there a particular reason behind that. Like, is there anything I should watch out for…maybe a potentially demon-possessed friend.”

There is dead silence on the other end of the line. Mystery shifts from paw to paw near her feet.

“I think I have expressed my views on this already. What are you…”

“Because,” Vivi quickly continues, emphasising the word, before he can start lecturing,  “I met this guy today who said he was hunting a demon. I know, sounds crazy. But he seemed to really believe it, and I have this odd feeling...” It had been bugging her. Also, for the first time ever, she wants to hear dad’s no-nonsense, self-assured ‘all that stuff isn’t real’ spiel.

“I just wanted to check that there isn’t anything you’re not telling…”

THUNK. 

The area goes dark. 

All the lights in the diner cut off at once. Vivi glances about in alarm, squinting as her eyes try and adjust to the sudden darkness. What the heck? She puts a hand out, touching the side of the truck, following it around to face the diner again. In the black, she can make out the building’s outline and not much else.

“Vivi? Are you there? What happened?”

“Ah…a power outage, I think?”

At her feet, Mystery lets out a deep growl, which sounds impossibly loud in the still air. It vibrates, causing her teeth to jitter. The dog steps forward, staring intently towards the corner of the building. For a second the area is illuminated by a flash of lightning, and she sees…she sees Arthur?  Darkness returns, falling like a curtain to obscure her view.

“Sorry dad. Gotta go…”

“NO! Vivi, wait!”

She hangs up. Mystery growls again, and she peers into the night. It’s no use. Quickly, she flips through her phone settings for the flashlight, holding it up. The dim light it offers little against the gloom, giving her barely a meter of vision.

She is almost sure she’d seen Arthur.

..

Part 33: Here

[hakuoki-dreams]

to spice things up a little bit, how about headcannons about someone being to flirty and hands on with okita's and hijikata's s/o

SPICY 💕 This prompt was so fun to write that these turned into little mini-scenarios! How could I resist for two of the most jealous guys in the Shinsengumi? Get ready for some over-protective boys

Okita:

Big

Fucking

Mistake

Okita is jealous and quite possessive at his core. Even his good friends have found themselves under his frigid glare at times–Heisuke for making you laugh a little too hard a little too often, Harada for giving your head one too many familiar pats.

He doesn’t just protect you physically. Anyone encroaching on you verbally or emotionally is seen as just as much of a threat. Your special close relationship is extremely important to him, and he doesn’t want any other man to get that kind of intimacy with you

Souji can read people’s intentions at a glance. The second he sees some guy trying to make a pass at you, he’ll know exactly what he’s trying to pull, even if you’re not yet aware of it yourself

So the instant his eyes take in this scene, he’s on the defensive.

The hell is she thinking, hanging around outside the gate like that? There’s a small parcel in your hand; probably correspondence from Kondou or Hijikata that you offered to dispatch in your over-eagerness to be of help. But for some reason you paused just outside the compound to talk with this young man he doesn’t recognize.

He’s too well-dressed for Souji’s taste. Probably some chump from the upper crust of the shogunate, perhaps even a lower member of the court. And he’s looking at you in a way that’s entirely too familiar.

Like a cat, he approaches soundlessly beside you. As you turn to point out a street to the man, your arm nearly smacks Souji in the chest, making you start. His face is alarming; he’s staring daggers at the gentleman in front of you.

‘Oh!’ You’re not quite sure what else to say at his sudden appearance.

‘What do you want?’ He ignores you, addressing the samurai. Both of you are taken aback by his abrupt tone. Inwardly, you chastise him for his unnecessary rudeness.

‘Okita, I’m glad you’re here–this man is a new bugyō on assignment in the city. He’s asking for directions to the magistrate’s office, but I wasn’t quite sure…could you help?’ You put on your most pleasant tone while trying to covertly telegraph to him that this guy’s important, he works for the Shogun, stop being a prick–Souji resolutely ignores it all, his green eyes still focused on the samurai’s face.

‘A bugyō, huh? How nice.’ But he doesn’t sound like he finds it nice at all.

‘Ah–yes.’ The man seems wary of him, but decides to take the high road. ‘I only just arrived in Kyoto, and this young lady kindly offered to help me find my bearings.’ This summary of events makes you frown slightly–in truth, he approached you first.

You open your mouth to clarify, but Souji gets there faster. ‘Oh, I doubt that’s quite how it happened. A commissioner for the shogunate who can’t find his own office?’

The samurai shifts uncomfortably under the Okita Stare. ‘Well, as I said–I’ve been serving in Edo for several years now. Kyoto is quite a different city. It’s rare to find such a friendly face–’ At that his eyes flit to you, and the moment they do, you feel Souji’s arm slide around your waist to draw you slightly closer beside him.

‘I’d suggest you keep looking, because you haven’t found anything here.’ He tips his chin down the road to his left. ‘Magistrate’s that way, then north. But I’m guessing you already knew that?’ He gives the man a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. The samurai doesn’t linger, continuing on his way after a hasty thanks.

You turn to glare up at Okita, his arm still around you, but his eyes narrowed after the man’s retreating figure. ‘Are you going to tell me what the hell that was about?’

‘Hmmm?’ He looks down at you, almost exasperated. ‘Wasn’t it obvious? If you don’t already get it, I’d rather not explain.’ And he starts the other direction down the path, slipping his hand from his waist to catch your fingers in his. You skip to keep up, dogging him.

‘No, I want to know! It’s not like he was an imperialist or something. He’s a bureaucrat for the Shogun, for goodness’ sake–’

‘Exactly. You don’t find it even a bit suspicious that a man of his position wouldn’t know where the damn magistrate was?’

‘No…?’ The word comes out like a question; the bemused set of his lip is making you doubt yourself. ‘Not if he’s new to the city.’

‘Such an innocent.’ Okita sighs heavily at your response. ‘Look…that guy didn’t need directions. He was just coming onto you.’

You stare at him as he walks beside you. There’s something unusually stiff about his expression, and for once, he won’t quite meet your eye.

‘Souji…’ You feel your face breaking out in a grin. ‘That guy–are you…are you actually jealous?’

He doesn’t respond, but you catch a rare glimpse of a blush from behind his hair.

‘Where’s that going?’ He’s asking about the letter in your other hand, obviously trying to get off the subject. You tell him it’s for Shimada, posted in one of the busier teahouses.

‘I’m coming with you.’ You consider arguing with him–the only reason Hijikata sent you was to avoid attracting attention, after all. But the prospect of getting some time with Souji is pleasant enough you let it go, even if he’s acting like a bit of a guard dog right now.

Probably wants to stave off all the other flirtatious samurai, you joke to yourself. But the idea actually makes you a little giddy inside.

After this Souji will somehow manage to become even more possessive and hands-on around you. He doesn’t like to let you out of his sight, or not be touching you, which is all very flattering and honestly a bit of a turn-on sometimes. But you do have to shoo him away some days when you’re trying to work and he’s stuck on you. It also causes much head-shaking among the captains, who find his behavior overly suspicious. Can’t they all just be friends?

When you have to leave the compound again, even on short errands, he insists on going with you and will keep his arm locked around your side. His withering glances and tell-tale blue haori keep other men at a firm distance.

Sometimes he can’t get away and will talk Saito into going in his place, a rather awkward but amusing experience for both of you

                                          —��——-

Hijikata:

Will instantly blame himself, the martyr

Because he’s been a fucking ass. He’s been too aloof with you in public, and here’s the proof right in front of him. He should’ve cared less about his idiotic pride and authority and cared more about showing the world you were his. You were so patient, and you never complained, and he let that convince himself it was right.

So really, can he blame this ronin bastard for looking so interested? Does he even have the right? You’re lovely. For all the prick knows, you’re also very unattached.

Certainly not hooking up with a lowlife like him who will gladly take you all night long then treat you like his sister during the day. He feels suddenly disgusted with himself for being so hands-off with you.

And just as that phrase passes through his mind, he sees something he can’t so easily forgive–the man’s thumb running under your chin, and you reflexively leaning away from the touch, your rattled expression sending a very clear message: unwelcome

Anyone who puts that look of fear on your face deserves to be cut down. He won’t–but fuck will his sword hand itch for it.

Before he can witness anything else that might change his mind, his feet have swiftly carried him to stand between you and this stranger.

‘You’re done here.’ Short; to the point.

The stranger looks taken aback at this intrusion. Unwisely, he decides to press his point. 'Hey, what’s your problem? The lady and I were just getting to know each other–’ And the bastard actually makes a move to sidestep around.

Behind him, Toshi feels you shift closer against his back. His blood rises with a mixture of pride and hot anger. He throws an arm out to block the man’s chest, his voice a low growl. 'Are you deaf? I said you’re done. She’s not interested.’

The ronin’s hand twitches across his hip in an unmistakable suggestion–thank God he’s not stupid enough to actually draw here, in a crowded street at midday. But he speaks through gritted teeth

‘Why don’t you let the girl talk for herself, instead of butting into something that doesn’t concern you?’

‘Oh, it definitely fucking concerns me, dimwit.’ Just how clearly does he have to spell it out for this moron? Does he have to grab you in his arms for him to get the picture? ‘Any kind of gentleman could see she’s not into it. Or do you make a habit of harassing women against their will?’

The man’s face is turning bright red with a mixture of affront and indignation. Toshi’s seen the look many times. In an instant, his mind turns strategic–how to incapacitate him quickest, without blood, keeping you well out of harm’s way–

‘Hijikata?’ A small hand on his sword arm cuts through the swirl of thoughts. You’re peering up at him, looking as though you might be about to apologize. The absurd idea of such a thing coming from your mouth at this moment distracts him from the change that’s swept over the ronin, until the man speaks again.

‘C-Commander Hijikata?’ He looks like the wind’s been kicked out of him. ‘Of the Shinsengumi?’

Well fucking finally–about time having such a terrible reputation came in handy. He leans into it a little. ‘That’s right, the Demon. And this one right here–’ He scoops an arm around your shoulder, pulls you in– ‘She’s with me. So unless you’re done having fingers, I’d suggest you keep them well off of her.’ He can’t help ending with a flourish. ‘Got it?’

‘Of course, I never meant to–if I had any idea–’ The man is already backing away, thoroughly deflated. ‘You won’t be having any more trouble–’ He’s hurried away into the crowd before he can finish the thought.

Toshi watches him go before turning his attention to you. He looks you over, scowling with his brand of concern. ‘You okay?’

‘Oh yes! Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ You give him your best smile. But his brow lowers further, unconvinced. He reaches out a hand, and you expect him to pat your hair–when his fingers graze your cheek, it’s quite a pleasant shock.

‘Sorry I left you alone,’ he murmurs. This gentle look isn’t one you often get from him when you’re not alone. He too seems surprised at his own actions and draws away a bit abruptly.

You find your heart beating a little fast all the same. ‘Um, it’s okay. Really! I know you can’t be with me all the time.’ The simple way you say it cuts him. He knows it’s true; but damn, he can sure as hell do better.

As you both turn back toward the compound, he makes a point to rest his arm across your shoulders. The feeling makes you sigh with happiness. After a satisfied moment, you realize you never acknowledged the way he helped you out of your scrape. ‘By the way…thanks for rescuing me back there, Commander.’

Coming from you, he knows the title is teasing. It’s become almost a familiar pet name. But it jogs something loose from his recent memory–how the ronin came to recognize him in the first place. He glances sideways; your face has a look of complete innocence that he suspects is very practiced.

‘You minx.’ He’s looking down at you with quizzical pride. ‘You did that on purpose, didn’t you?’

‘What? Don’t you tell the captains to use non-violence whenever possible?’ You shrug against his arm as if it was only natural. ‘Besides, you never drop your name enough, Toshi…even when it’s the quickest way to prevent a fight. Everyone in Kyoto fears the Demon Commander.’

He lets out a short puff of air; a wry laugh. ‘You’re some woman.’ He’s shaking his head at you, but his eyes are sparkling with pure adoration. You have to glance down.

‘Of course…some people don’t fear the Demon Commander…’

‘Yeah, yeah…’

‘Some people are in love with the Demon Commander–’

‘Oi–!’ He’s very nearly blushing, and he casts a dark glance around as though someone important might be listening in. You have to cover your giggle with a hand. He glowers at your amusement as his expense.

Then, a couple blocks from the front gate, he suddenly pulls you down a deserted side alley in order to fold you in a soft embrace

In the following weeks you start to notice changes in him. He gives you that adoring look again, this time in rooms full of other people. He hugs you a lot more; not just when you’re alone, but out in the open courtyard, and before he leaves on domain business. Even gives you a kiss when you bring him tea after dinner, to your shock. Okita coughs in a way that sounds suspiciously like a cover for laughter

He feels a little too mature to walk around holding hands, though it’s undeniably pleasant. But he’ll start resting an arm around your shoulders; occasionally place a hand on your hip if he’s feeling especially saucy. It’s a bit disorienting to be wooed in public by him like this, but you can’t find anything to complain about

[pointy-hat-witch]

Title: Through Fire Show: Boku no Hero Academia Pairing: Kirishima/Bakugou Summary:  Kirishima is a firefighter and Bakugou’s real life hero. :D A/N:  Here I am, once again, not writing on my other fics but starting new ones. When do I learn? (spoiler: never) Hope you have fun with this small fic I just had the urge to write! :D

You can read it on AO3 if you want to! :)

His head was pounding with a stabbing pain as Katsuki woke up. The pain stung behind his eyes and he took in a deep breath to somehow relieve some of the tension that scrunched up his face. But as soon as he sucked in the air, his lungs constricted. He convulsed, groaning and coughing. The air was hot and heavy and not at all refreshing. Rolling over on his chest, Katsuki buried his face in the crook of his arm, somehow trying to shield his face from the sudden heat that engulfed him.

Like a wrecking ball, his memories sprung to the front of his mind, causing another groan. Fucking great. Katsuki tried to make a mental note to kick Deku’s ass into the next century.

-- 5 hours earlier --

Katsuki checked his phone for what felt like the tenth time, sending another text to Midoriya to ask where the fuck u at because he was waiting for at least 20 minutes and he was already fed up with it. He had only agreed to meet up with Midoriya and Uraraka because they promised to pay for all the food they were getting and Katsuki was going to make that count. What he didn’t sign up for was to be left twisting in the wind. He was fuming.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya’s overly sweet voice rang through the masses that slowly trickled from and to the shopping center Katsuki was standing in front of.

“About fucking time.” He growled as soon as Midoriya was in hearing distance.

“I’m, ha, I’m so sorry!” Midoriya doubled over, leaning on his knees as he caught his breath. Not a step behind was Uraraka, out of breath as well but not nearly as pathetic. She fanned some air into her face with her hands and grinned at Katsuki.

“Sorry, my bad.” Still grinning, she patted Midoriya’s back with a little too much force, causing him to cough.

“Fucki-“, Bakugou scowled, burying his hands deep into his pockets, trying to compose himself. “If you run the fuck late, have some decency to fucking text me. Isn’t that hard, is it?”

“We, we wanted to!” Midoriya finally collected himself enough to not wheeze, pressing his hands together in an apology. “But then the train came and it was packed and we were almost there and then we just ran.”

“And here we are!” Uraraka punched Katsuki’s arm, either oblivious or ignorant of the deeply etched scowl on his face. “Let’s hit the mall!” Uraraka locked both her arms with them, dragging them inside through the masses and Katsuki was already regretting agreeing to this stupid meet up on a fucking Saturday during the fucking holidays.

Yanking his arm free, Katsuki opted to trail behind the other two, shoulders hunched and taking deep breaths whenever someone ran into him, which, in fact, was a lot. His patience was being tested on a completely different level and God knows he didn’t have much. Whenever Midoriya and Uraraka decided to enter one of the too many stores, Katsuki was adamant to wait outside, searching for the emptiest corner and zoning out on his phone.

They repeated this procedure often enough until Katsuki finally snapped. His stomach was demanding food. Now. With a way too pleasant grin, both Midoriya and Uraraka led Katsuki to the topmost floor where most of the restaurants where situated.

“Take a pick.” She spread her arms when they reached the floor through the escalator, presenting him his choices. A smirk formed on Katsuki’s lips, a soft oh formed on Midorya’s lips, already calculating the costs.

Katsuki elbowed Uraraka out of his way and with a new found motivation stalked along the various food stands, stores and restaurants until he reached the far end with one of the most expensive menus in the mall. He threw both of them a victorious grin over the shoulder before entering the restaurant.

They were sat down right in the middle of the room. Not the most relaxing position, but Katsuki deemed it good enough since he was going to eat until he was exploding, making the most of their deal. If he had to go outside, so he socialized then they had to pay the price. Literally.

They were half-through their meal, Katsuki huffing out a laugh after making Midoriya try his extra spicy Curry, Uraraka ignoring Katsuki’s advances to coax her to try it as well and Midoriya fruitlessly trying to wave down a waiter for some milk since water didn’t quench the spice in his throat when it happened.

Katsuki didn’t know what happened first. There was a loud sound, maybe an explosion, screams, people running around, heat. Everything happened so fast it all was a blur. Through the explosion about half the tables were blown away, chairs scraped over the floor and people running for the next exit without paying any mind to their surroundings.

Scrambling to his feet, Katsuki shook his head trying to get rid of the ringing in his ear. He saw Uraraka crouching over Midoriya who lay motionless on the ground. Gritting his teeth, he kneeled down on the other side of him, checking him for any obvious injuries. The ringing finally subdued and he heard Uraraka muttering frantically to either Midoriya or herself.

“Hey.” Katsuki growled, snapping his fingers to get her attention. Her eyes were blown wide, tears threatening to spill when she looked over to him. “’s probably nothing, so stop freaking out.” Katsuki surprisingly carefully tugged his arms under Midoriya’s knees and around his shoulders to swoop him up in one fluid motion, slightly pressing the other boy against his chest. “He probably just hit his stupid head the wrong way.”

Uraraka stood up on wobbly knees, brushing mindlessly the dirt away from her legs, rubbing her face so she wouldn’t cry and smudging make-up and grime all over herself. “Alright.” Uraraka was many things. Too much in his business, nosy, stubborn and moody to just name a few. But she wasn’t weak, far from it. She took the lead, pushing away the chairs and tables in their way so Katsuki could maneuver easily around them.

The restaurant and other stores were already empty when they finally reached the hallway again. The first thing they saw was the smoke. Still small but threatening grey, blackish puffs of smoke were forming from the floor beneath them. Their first instinct was to run to the escalators for the shortest route outside but as soon as they reached them, the heat slabbed them in the face. They stumbled backwards when the first flame flickered over the ground right over the metal stairs.

“Staircase.” Katsuki grunted, only moving until he saw Uraraka nodding. They reached the nearest staircase in record time, Uraraka almost kicking the door in. Katsuki was only a few steps behind but then the building shook, making him stumble. Uraraka gripped against the doorframe, jerking around in alarm.

“Wha-“

“Shit!” Katsuki clenched his teeth, jaw set as he saw the unstable structure above him. His eyes darted around for just a second, assessing the situation, before he made a small jump, thrusting Midoriya at Uraraka who stumbled backward. The next moment, the ceiling collapsed.

Katsuki remembered screaming at her to run as he jumped backward to avoid the debris but of course he couldn’t calculate everything, so it didn’t surprise him when he felt a pang of pain against the back of his head. His last thought was that he really didn’t like going out to the mall.

-- present --

His lungs burned with each inhale he took, his eyes were watering through the prickling pain all over his body. Katsuki had half the mind to yank his shirt above his head and pressed it against his face to at least not breath in all the smoke. Staying low on the ground, Katsuki crawled away from the staircase entry which was completely collapsed. His next option would be finding another staircase. Easier said than done since he couldn’t even see enough through all the smoke that was hanging in the air and the almost unbearable heat that was lapping at him filled his mind with dread. He could see a few flames flicker in some of the stores, so he thought the main fire wasn’t spreading at his location. For now.

A slim film of sweat accumulated on his body, making each pull of his arms over the ground slippery and he had to push extra with his feet to drag ahead. Katsuki already felt his strength swindling after a few minutes. The lack of oxygen made his mind fuzzy and the extra strain on his body burnt through his adrenaline pretty fast. Katsuki furrowed his brows, slamming a fist to the ground. As if he would give in so easily. His body was his to command and if he wanted to crawl out of this building alive, it fucking hat to follow his order.

Pushing himself over the limit, Katsuki ignored the cuts on his forearms and the small burns in his chest as he pushed and dragged over the ground. He didn’t know how long he was crawling, it felt like forever but he didn’t make much progress when a distant voice reached his ears.

“-gou?! Bakugou?!”

For a second, Katsuki was convinced he was starting to hallucinate. Why would someone he didn’t know call out his name? Still, the voice came closer accompanied by heavy footsteps and Katsuki let himself hope.

“He-“, his voice cracked, his throat was already filled with smoke and the burning rasp forced him into another coughing fit.

“I’ve got you, man.” The other person was suddenly right by his side, pulling a mask over his face. The first inhale of fresh smoke-free air felt like heaven. Katsuki felt his eyes focusing properly again even though he still couldn’t see much. The smoke was heavy around them, he could barely see a few feet ahead and the mask limited his vision significantly. Nevertheless, when he yanked his head up, he was greeted by the most ridiculous sight he would never forget.

A firefighter in their yellow attire, firetruck red hair styled to the back in numerous spikes, which were hanging down sadly due to heat and sweat of said firefighter, and the brightest smile Katsuki had ever seen. If it weren’t for these circumstances, Katsuki would have laughed.

“You with me?” His voice easily carried over the cracking of the fire and the noise of his own breath, still, Katsuki could only nod, not trusting his voice.

“Alright, man. Can you stand up?” The firefighter was already standing up again, dragging Katsuki upwards on his elbow before awaiting an answer. They pulled their heavy jacket over their nose and pulled Katsuki with them.

“We gotta hurry, man. The building is about to collapse.” Muffled through the fabric of the jacket, the voice still reached his ears and finally freed him from his reverie. Katsuki yanked his arm free and growled.

“I can fucking walk on my own.” He heard his own voice still straining against the rasp in his throat, but he was awarded another grin, even if he could just see the corner of their mouth darting upwards.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

Katsuki threw him a glare but due to the lack of reaction, the firefighter either didn’t see it through the mask or just ignored it. They walked the same way back, the firefighter came from but they abruptly stood still, one arm shooting out to his side so Katsuki was held back. About to protest, Katsuki swallowed down a few curses as he saw the fire leaping from the staircase.

“Goddammit.” The firefighter cursed, which Katsuki could only second, but was interrupted by a small cough. Only then Katsuki realized that they only had one mask which he was currently wearing.

“Fucking, godda-“ Katsuki ripped the mask from his face and pushed it into their face, glaring at them to even dare to protest. At first confused, the firefighter blinked owlishly at Katsuki but soon enough their face relaxed and they nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

“To the rooftop.” Was all they said before strapping the mask back over Katsuki’s head. “Don’t.” They just said when Katsuki was about to protest and grabbed him by the wrist. Probably, hopefully, knowing where to go, they pulled Katsuki along who just stumbled blindly after them, following the screaming red hair.

The smoke got even thicker, more and more black so Katsuki almost couldn’t see the person in front of them, making him grateful that they didn’t let go of his arm, he would have been instantly lost.

“Almost there!” The grip around his wrist tightened as they rounded a corner. There were flames everywhere, lapping at everything that was willing to burn, rising high to the ceiling. The firefighter stopped and pulled Katsuki behind their back to shield them the tiniest bit from the heat.

“Alright, listen to me.” They turned around, facing Katsuki. It was almost hilarious that Katsuki recognized a small scar on their right eyelid in that moment, concentrating on it with furrowed brows. “We need to make a leap of faith here, you hear me? Just a small jump through there”, they gestured to the wall of flames, “and then we’ll be right in front of the emergency exit. You good with that?”

Swallowing down all the sudden fear to literally jump through fire, forcing his racing mind to a standstill so he wouldn’t overwhelm himself with emotions, Katsuki grunted. “Do I have a choice?”

“Well, you always have, but this is your safest bet to come out of here alive.” The firefighter had the gut to grin at him as if they weren’t about to maybe burn alive like pigs on a stick. Taking another deep breath, Katsuki ripped the mask off his face and shoved it at the firefighter. They inhaled two times sharply before strapping it back over Katsuki’s face.

“Thanks, man.” Their arm looped around his waist disregarding any form of protest and just ran. They held one arm in front of their face, body angled to shield Katsuki as best as possible and with a firm grip held onto Katsuki as they jumped over some rubble through the flames. Katsuki gave in to his instinct to press his eyes shut, holding his breath. He felt the heat on his naked torso, felt a few stinging singes on his skin but it was over almost immediately.

Inhaling sharply, his eyes sprung open to see that they were, as the firefighter said, right in front of a door. A green neon light indicating the universal exit sign and Katsuki never knew that this everyday sign could make his heart sore with relief.

The firefighter pushed at the door which opened without any hesitation and they entered the small staircase. The fire didn’t reach that far yet, still it was filled with smoke. The firefighter didn’t wait for another second and pulled Katsuki with them upstairs. Fortunately, they already were on the highest floor, so it was just a small flight of stairs to reach the rooftop. Of course, the door was locked but with a heavy kick, the firefighter pushed the door open and they were blinded by the sun.

Katsuki yanked off the mask and inhaled deeply as soon as they were in a safe distance from the smoke that rose from the staircase they came from. For the first time, the firefighter let go of his wrist and jogged over to the edge, waving his arms above his head.

“Over here!” His voice roared over the sound of fire, collapsing debris, sirens and other voices. Katsuki slowly walked over to take a peek over the edge, seeing other firefighters pulling a huge jumping cushion over to them. His eyes widened, not believing what his mind was already telling him they had to do.

Right that moment, the firefighter turned around, squeezing at his shoulders with one hand and gave him a reassuring smile. “You good with that? Won’t feel a thing when you land, don’t worry.”

“Shut up, I’m not afraid.”

“Didn’t say so, man.” They grinned, patting his shoulder. “Take a deep breath and just jump. I’m right behind you.”

They threw another glance over the edge to confirm the jumping cushion was in place and nodded at Katsuki.

“Enjoy the flight.” They laughed and slapped his back, making him huff out a cough and he glared at them.

“Fucking, stupid-“ shaking his head, Katsuki didn’t think any further about what could happen if he didn’t land on the jumping cushion and pushed himself from the roof with a spirited kick. The air was ringing in his ears, his stomach made a somersault as he plummeted right toward the ground and then it was already over. He landed featherlight on the cushion, the rough texture surprisingly smooth and not rubbing on his skin. He rolled over and hands were on him immediately, pulling him off the cushion, examining his well-being. He heard voices, maybe directed at him since the faces were looking at him, but he couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing sound in his ears. His face was schooled in his default scowl and due to his lack of response, first aiders pulled him wordlessly to one of the many ambulances. His head jerked around, and he just saw the firefighter plunge from the roof and landed safely where he just lay seconds ago. Then he was pulled farther away, and he couldn’t find the strength in himself to protest.

For minutes, a pair of hands were on him, checking for any external and internal injuries, an oxygen mask was pushed over his nose and mouth, and cool water washed away the ash and felt heavenly over his low degree burns. His hearing slowly returned, filtering through the shouts and noises around him. The paramedic looked up from under their purple hair. Did all first responder had some freakish hair?

“You hear me again?” Their voice was calm, almost soothing, ushering Katsuki to jerk a nod at him.

“Great. Can you tell me if you’re hurt somewhere?”

Katsuki slowly moved his hands and legs, bend a little to the left and right and rolled his head. He shook his head with a grunt, pulling down the mask to cough since his throat still burned.

“Alright.” They gently pulled the mask above his nose again. “It seems you only have minor burns and lacerations, nothing serious. But we need you to come with us to the hospital to get a look at your lungs. You inhaled too much smoke, maybe even burnt your throat or inflamed your lungs.”

“Wa-“ Katsuki’s voice broke in another coughing fit. His eyes darted around, searching for the firefighter with the red hair. Nothing would stop him from at least say thank you. It was their job, of course, but still. He was alone in a burning building, how-the-fuck-ever they had found him and hell if he wouldn’t be a decent human being.

His eyes zoomed in on them as they found them next to one of the fire engines, jacket pulled down to his waist, black tank top clinging to them caused by all the sweat and pouring water over their head. The paramedic followed his gaze and nodded at him.

“You’ve got two minutes then we have to go.”

Katsuki jumped to his feet, throwing the mask to his side and sauntered over to the firefighter. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides when he was finally in hearing distance but no words came out of his mouth.

The firefighter finally noticed his presence and blinked through the small water droplets that clung to their eyelashes. After a second, recognition washed over their face and a smile split their lips.

“Hey, man. You all good?” Their voice was soft, completely different when they were shouting in the fire. It made Katsuki feel warm inside but in a good way.

“I-“ His voice broke again but this time it wasn’t because of the burn in the back of his mouth but a sob shook through his body. Eyes widen in shook they both stared at each other. Katsuki felt the adrenaline sag down in a matter of seconds and reality finally caught up with him.

He was in a burning building with his friends who he didn’t know where they were. If they made it outside. The building was burning, his body was aching, his lungs were still filled with smoke. The building was burning when he tried to crawl outside not knowing if he could make it, if he would come out of there alive. His body moved on his own as he slung his arms around the broad shoulders that guided him outside of the burning building, he had been trapped in. His eyes filled with tears which he finally shed as another sob tore through his chest.

“I’ve got you, shh, everything’s alright.” Their arms wrapped around him, on arm around his waist holding him close, the other over his back with their hand in his neck. Katsuki never felt safer in someone's arms.

“Thank you.” He chocked out, biting his lip and burying his face in the crook of their neck.

“You’re welcome.” They hushed right next to his ear. “You’re safe. You’re alive.”

Their arms didn’t let go of him for as long as he held onto them. After what felt like an eternity, Katsuki slowly relaxed, tears smeared the grime under his eyes and snot was dripping from his nose. He wiped it away with the back of his hand as he finally let go, already missing the warmth of their embrace.

“You hurt somewhere?” The firefighter held one of their hands on his shoulder firmly and Katsuki’s mind provided the unwanted and unnecessary conclusion that they maybe didn’t want to let go as much as he.

Katsuki shook his head, sniffed one last time and glared at the ground. Great. He made a fool out of himself in front of them.

“You know, you were amazing in there.” His eyes shot up to find himself staring in red eyes which looked at him with warmth and adoration.

“We couldn’t have made it out of there if you weren’t so brave and strong. So, thanks to you, too!” A row of sharp tooth grinned up to him, squishing their cheeks so high their eyes were small slits. Katsuki felt his chest constrict again, swallowing the lump down that formed inside his throat.

“Wanna grab a coffee sometime?” His voice was barely a whisper, graveling and raspy. His cheeks tinted a dark red as soon as his head caught up what he was saying, mouth already open to take that back or to apologize.

“Yeah.” The firefighter coughed. “I mean, yes, gladly.”

“Good.” Katsuki nodded sharply.

“Wait a second.” The firefighter jerked around to jump up into the driver’s cabin of the fire engine and stepped out just a few seconds later, holding out a piece of paper.

“You, uh, could text me. I mean, you should get checked out at the hospital and I’ve got stuff to wrap up as well. So, uhm, y’know?” Their hand scratched at their neck a little awkwardly, kicking the dirt in front of them.

Katsuki snatched the paper unceremoniously but holding on to it with a tight fist.

“I will.” He turned around before he could embarrass himself even more and glanced at the paper out of the corner of his eye.

Kirishima Eijirou – xxx xxx xxxx

The first smile for what felt like forever crept onto his lips and breathing finally was getting easier.

[lillaxtrigger]

Young Hope: Chapter 21

The salty starch of a curly french fry is dipped into a small cup of delicious ketchup; the spicy delight soon chomped in half by Kingsley’s teeth. “Mmmh...” After swallowing the piece, he goes on to compliment the flavorsome fries with: “This restaurant always makes some of the best fries. The salt and spices in each piece just burst flavor. You really outta try them Damian.” From the opposing side of the table does a tan brown hand pinch one of the longer curly fries before him; lifting it near the head of a hooded teenage boy with curly black hair drooping out from underneath. Before him, the boy watches as the long strand of potato simply droop down until it rips under its own weight; a depressing sigh escaping from his mouth as he turns away. “Hey, what’s the matter? Afraid you might burn your tongue? They’re not that hot.” Kingsley question. “I’m just not that hungry is all.” Damian moans.

Right after saying such, a small toddler smacks into his chair;  Damian disappearing upon the sudden bump. The toddler looks back, staring curiously towards the seat he’d just ran into; Kingsley watching as the little kid slowly starts to approach. Right when he was near, both hear the cry of a woman; demanding the toddler to: “Get over here, Jimmy! Quit bothering them!” On those orders does the little kid retreat from the table; the boy genius looking back towards the seemingly empty seat. “You wanna talk about what’s been eating you up? You been acting more withdrawn then usual this past week or two.” Before Kingsley does the boy reappear back in his seat as a disheartened groan leaves his lungs; answering him with: “I don’t know. I...I just haven’t been the same since that whole Circe episode. Going through that whole kidnapping and life threatening drama’s just been a little hard for me.” “I ain’t really seeing anything wrong with ya.”

Beside the two, Cayenne sat woofing down the burgers and fries before her like a savage animal; bits of fries and meat spilling back onto the table as she scarfs her food down. “Ya still lookin like the same overly dramatic try hard emo pansy you’ve always been.” she mentions, her mouth stuffed with overly greasy burger pieces. “I don’t think that’s the case. I haven’t heard him speak a single poetic line the whole time he’s been around.” Kingsley denies. “I still ain’t getting what’s eating your ass. Ya got outta that circus of horrors and lesbian magic without losing a single speck of your powers. So what the big deal?” “Cayenne! He’s probably still scared about being kidnapped and nearly getting killed. I’d know I’d be.” “You did, and so did most of my cousins too. Most of the kids that went through that shit storm turned out just fine in the end.” Hearing the spice queen recall such causes Damian to let out a disheartening moan; the boy hanging his head over the batch of spicy fries. “Uh, Cayenne. Maybe it’d be best if you sit this one out.” the boy genius suggests. “Whatev.” Rising from her seat, she takes whatever food was left in front of her before taking her leave; bidding her adieu with: “Still thinking he should just get over it.”

Watching the Spice queen depart, a defeated groan leaves Damian’s lips; hesitantly agreeing with her crass judgment with: “Saying it hurts, but…she right. A lot of the kids that witch had snatched up bounced back from it all without so much as a hiccup. Like the mighty grizzly, the chilling winter of her icy grip had lulled them into a long slumber. But the comforting spring of your warming rescue had awoken them once more; springing back from the brink with more vigor than before. Alas, the cruel winter shows little mercy for me. Like the graceful gazelle, unfit slumbering through the harsh bitter ice; growing ever more frightened and frail than ever.” “Quit thinking like that. You’re not as weak as you make yourself out to be. Everyone just goes through trauma differently, that’s all. That doesn’t make yours any less valid.” The boy genius’s encouraging statement unfortunately fails to perk Damian’s spirits, remaining ever drowning in his woes.

Kingsley slapping the table baits the ghost boy’s attention; Damian hearing him offer: “Tell ya what, how about you and I go out on day through Townsville together. It’s been a while since we done something with just the two of us. We can go wherever your ghostly heart desires. Whadya say?” “I-I don’t know Kingsley. The only thing I’m really wanting to do now is just go home and cry my eyes out.” “Did I mention that the underground cafe downtown is having a poetry evening?” “...Alright, you win.” Rising from his seat, Kingsley rejoices from the agreement by concluding: “Fantastic! Just need to pay the bill and we can hit the road.” Picking up the bill, the boy genius’s chipper demeanor is swiftly cut upon viewing the cost; finding several meals that he knows neither of them had ordered. Over a hundred bucks worth of burgers, fries, sides; Jesus! Only one person was with them that could stuff themselves that much. “Ugh, Cayenne.”

Through the streets of Townsville, the duo walk together among the countless urbanites going about their day; the boy genius asking Damien: “So, you still listen to stuff like Hip Hop and Rap?” ��Nn, yeah. I’ve also been branching out more towards the tranquil melancholy that Lofi has to offer.” “Glad to hear your music tastes are still intact. I’ve been seeking out stuff through techno and synth wave myself. Guess our first stop on this cheer up trip’ll be something that both of us will be into.” “Where exactly are you taking us?”

Stepping through a shop door, the specter’s question is answered then and there; beholding a vast cavalcade of music in a slew of forms. Cassettes, records, CD’s, all hailing a multitude of countless genres for all to enjoy. “A music shop? Why is our first stop here of all places.” Damian wonders as both he and his host enter. “I figured since both of us are exploring new genres, I figure we’d stop here to look through some of the new and retro stuff they’ve got stocked.” “Can’t we just do that online?” “Well, yeah. But I find there’s this oddly comforting novelty of having physical media as opposed to just pure data. Just nice to have something displayed on the shelf I guess.” Grabbing hold of the specter’s shoulder, Kingsley guides his guest towards the collection of music as he urges him to: “Come on. I bet we’ll find a ton of amazing stuff sitting in these racks.”

Along the racks of tracks, the duo search the surprisingly vast collection of synthwave music; one of which was a CD labeled “Mitch Murder”. “Think that this might be good, Kingsley?” “Mitch Murder? Oh yeah. My dad used to listen to him a lot while he’d be making gadgets and bots. I remember when I was little, I’d here the soothing synth echoing through is lab and just lull me to sleep. Really relaxing stuff there. Thinking about taking it home?” “Me? Hmm, maybe. It be rather a curious to listen to what music others might enjoy and find out what got them hooked to it.” “Really?” “Venturing out in such unexplored territory can offer a window into the souls of others. Even if it’s completely subjective, you can tell a lot about a person from the sounds that best resonate with them.” “Sounds like you know more about this stuff then I do.” “The souls of others are a very curious endeavor to explore, Kingsley. Every single life in existence is a completely unique being.”

Their search through the shop send them leaning towards the newest lofi hits; Damien trailing his finger across the cases until coming to a particular album. Pulling out the track makes the ghost boy lets out a small sigh, followed by mentioning: “The first Lofi artist I’ve discovered, a hidden diamond sparkling out in the rough that would spark a love for the secluding melody that such a genre offers.” Popping the CD out form its case, Damian flips it into the drive of a nearby music player; grabbing hold of both the headphones attached. “Care to drift along in the sea of melancholy with me, my friend?” the specter asks; offering the extra set of headphones to Kingsley. “Uh...Sure.” Grabbing hold of the pair of headphone, the boy genius dons them right over his ears; first notes and beats he listens to sound...depressing, like really depressing. Slow beats, low droning reverb, soothing piano and guitar; really sounds like something you’d listen to when wondering of the pointlessness of life and contemplating the futility of our own existence, wondering if anything that we strive to achieve will simply just waste away in the march of time until it corrodes into something far less than memory… Depressing stuff, honestly. Not really the kind of music anyone going through those thoughts should be listening to. Best to switch to a much more joyously relaxing experience.

While Kingsley moves over and flips through the countless other lofi tracks, Damian takes in the idyllic desolation playing in his ears. The depressing strums the guitar mixing with the low key strikes of the piano truly a create a comforting misery that eases the pain; as if the musician sympathizes with the woes of trauma and depression.

Such a symphony of gloom is swiftly silenced; the specter opening his eyes as he snaps back to reality. His gaze shifts over towards the player; a new CD being inserted into the slot. Looking to who changed the track, he found Kingsley holding onto the music he was listening to with a caring smile; a new piece swiftly playing for them. This time, a more upbeat,  relaxing melody fills Damian ears. A piano, playing higher, more uplifting strikes sings alongside a similarly slow beat much like the previous melody. A complete contrast of the last lofi track, this one envelopes more of a chilling beat, a far more comforting rhythm. Like a friend saying: “Let’s just kick back, relax, and listen to some sweet, sweet sound.” A relaxing breath leaves the specter as a faint smile cracks between his cheeks.

After that change of tune, their journey through the genres continues unabated; both Kingsley and Damian scanning through the seeming endless walls and racks of music track. It’s in this moment that an all too familiar tune reaches the boy genius’s ears; gazing up towards the intercom to find it playing: “You used to call me on my...” Is that… “You used to, you used to” Is that really… “Yeah...You used to call me on my cellphone.” Oh my god, it’s playing Hotline Bling. It’s one of Damian’s favorites. Does he even knows its on? “Late night when you needed my love.”

Turning back to the ghost boy, he found not a single inch of his body dancing to the rhythm of the bass. “Call me on my cellphone.” Guess Damian hasn’t caught on yet. Probably too preoccupied with his woes to even notice. Perhaps a little push in the right direction might break him out of his shell. “Late night when you needed my love.”

Vaulting right over the racks between him and the specter, Kingsley slowly encroaches over to Damian’s side. “And I know when that hotline bling.” The boy genius’s head next to Damian’s, Kingsley starts to serenade along side the songs hot bassline; following the rhythm as the intercom continues with: “That can only mean one thing. I know when that Hotline Bling. That can only mean one thing.” Though not strong at first, Kingsley starts to see the specter’s body moving with the music; Damian foot stomping to the rhythm. “Ever since I left the city, you...Got a reputation for yourself now.” The further he hears Kingsley repeat the songs lyrics, the more Damian starts to break from his shy and apathetic standstill, beating his hands in tune to the bass. “Everybody knows and I feel left out. Girl, you got me down, you got me stressed out.” In the midst of harmonizing with the song, Kingsley begins to hear a low hum from the side; turning to the ghost boy to find him humming to the words. “Cause Ever since I left the city, you...” In tandem with his humming, the ghost boy starts to bop his head to the beat; slapping the racks with more vigorously. “Started wearing less and goin’ out more.” Damian’s whole body begins to move with the rhythm; Kingsley backing away from the dancing boy with a smile. “Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor.” The specter backs away from the rack of music tracks; his hood lowering to uplift his curly black hair. “Hangin’ with some girls I’ve never seen before.”

Finally, Damian turns away from the rack, dancing in full as he joins the boy genius on his chorus; singing out: “You used to call me on my cellphone.” Kingsley soon joins the phantom in his rhythmic bop; dancing side by side with Damian to the beat. “Late night when you need my love.” Both boy spin with one another, soon catching the attention of everybody in the music shop. “Call me on my cellphone.” Both boy then halt their twirl close to the carpet, slowly rising as they stay back to back to each other. “Late night when you need my love.” Once having fully risen, Damian jumps in the air and starts leisurely floating across the CD racks. “I know when that Hotline Bling.” All of the shops patrons watches the ghost boy glide through the store; the cashier even can’t help but gaze upon Damian as he moves to the rhythm of the music. “That can only mean one thing.” One of the shoppers joins in the phantoms serenade; her hips swaying with the beat. “I know when the Hotline bling.” Alongside her, the other shop patrons are gradually pulled into the rhythm; shaking their hips and bopping their heads to the music. “That can only mean one thing.” From the back of the store does a man with a shirt labeled “Manager” burst from the door; joining his patrons in their rapping chorus. “Ever since I left the city, you, you, you.” Gliding through the store; Damian twirls through the air as the other shop goers dancer. “You and be we just don’t get along.” Kingsley looks towards the ghost boy; happy to see a bright smile across his face as he sings with all his heart. “You make me feel like I did you wrong.” Damian lands back upon the carpeted floor with a dazzling flip; spreading his arms out in both directions. “Going places where you don’t belong.” The specter soon leaps back in the air; the people beneath him throwing CD cases in the air all at once. “Ever since I left the city, you-”

From the phantom’s carelessly joyous flight, Damian smacks himself into a whole wall full of tracks; the wall careening down upon another set of tracks beside it. That wall soon knocks over another wall of CD’s, spiraling an entire domino effect of collapsing sets of music tracks. The other patrons scatter away from the chaos, fleeing out the exit in panicking packs. Kingsley rolls away from the falling walls of music track, soon finding an entire rack threatening to topple upon him. Before the collection of songs could slam down upon the boy genius, somebody push him away from the descending rack; Kingsley finding himself thrust out from danger by his phantom friend. The boy genius can do little but witness the CD display tumble down upon his savor in a thunderous bang; soon seeing him buried under more dropping walls and racks.

The collapsing mayhem soon settles into a calming close; leaving the shops vast collection of music in ruin. Though the destroyed merchandise be the furthest worry from the boy geniuses mind; screaming out for his fallen friend. “Damian!” Kingsley lunges towards his buried friend without so much as a hint of hesitance; lifting up one of the falling rack as he assures him that: “Don’t worry buddy, I’ll getcha outta there soon! Just hang on!” Just as he ready to lift away the next piece of debris, the boy genius soon sees the translucent head of his friend; the ghost boy insisting that: “I’m okay. I’m okay.” Like an intangible spirit free from the physical plain of this world, Damian phases right through the toppled collection of tracks; turning corporeal once more as he lands back in front of the boy genius. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.” A hearty sigh slips out from between Kingsley lips, the boy genius admitting: “Thank goodness. I really though you were done for a second there. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” “Trust me Kingsley, I’ve made out out of worse.” “I meant like...Are you feeling any better?” “Um...Kind of, but not a lot. Thanks for trying Kingsley.” “Hey, don’t quit just yet. This is just the first stop on the encouragement express; the next surprise in store might just fix your spirits yet.”

“You think so, huh?” a third voice questions. In that moment, a wayward fist breaches out from the rubble of the racks behind the boy genius; the emerging arm soon erupting out to show it belonging to the music shops managers. “You figure out how you’ll do the same with my store?” the manager growls. Presenting the resulting destruction to the two, he points towards the wrecked racks of broken CD’s and cracked case; reinforcing how: “The walls of records ruined, the racks of CD’s reduced to rubble, the tracks that I’ve stocked in shards. My entire music shop’s been completely destroyed! You got a way to fix all that!?” With a worrying groan, Kingsley pulls his wallet out from the depths of his pocket; slipping out from one of its folds his credit card.

Strolling through the concrete streets, the boy genius can’t help but notice Damian’s troubled glare; a gloomy moan leaving his lungs as the phantom stares out into space. “Hey, don’t look so down. I guarantee that the next stop were gonna visit will turn that frown upside down.” Kingsley promises. “You think so?” “I know so. It’s been someplace I’ve been wanting to take ya for quite awhile now. I guarantee your ghostly spirits will soar when you see it.” “Mind I ask where exactly are you planning to take us?”

Guided to his next stop, the ghost boy’s question is answered right then and there; Damian caught off guard by Kingsley surprise. Witnessing the astonishment in his eyes, a smile stretches across the boy genius’s face. “So, what do ya think? Your mood lightening up?” he asks. “I- I can’t believe it.” Standing before them be a brightly colored shop; the phantom beholding the assortment of exotic, almost otherworldly flowers displayed beyond the windows. “I’m guessing that’s a yes. Come on, I want to show ya the inside.” Taking the ghost boy’s hand, Kingsley gently leads Damian through the bright blue doorway; the wind chimes attached to the door ringing through their ears as they enter.

From within the shop, the duo beheld the quaint collection of blooming bunches surrounding them; a rainbow of flora encircling the pair. “All this is simply beautiful. The colors and fragrances all just blending harmoniously together in a symphony of natural beauty. How did you know?” the specter questions. “You kidding? With the whole array of flowers I see all over your house, it’s just a matter of putting two and two together. But all this, it simply pales in comparison to what they got set up in the back. Amazed me the first time I saw it all. It’s what got me thinking it bring you here.”

Stepping out the stores backdoor, both beholding a majestically expansive site spread before them; flora from every corner of the world and beyond gathered within a single enclosed garden, free from the influence of the outside world. The numerously vast collection of foliage leaves the phantom utterly speechless; left at awe of the overwhelming beauty of nature his eyes lay upon. Noticing the amazement in Damian's eyes, Kingsley lets out a little chuckle alongside mentioning: “Yep, that’s pretty much the same face I made when I first saw all this. Ain’t it neat?” “Neat? Neat simply isn’t enough to describe a site such as this. A wondrous union of flora from every corner of the world. The enchanting allure of such an earthly gathering simply draws forth the soul of nature within.” Having poetically described his feelings of wonderment and awe; Damian glides further into the wide collection of flowers before him.

The first set of flora to bait the ghost boys site be the seemingly dangerous cacti; planted upon patches of dry earth surrounded by brick. Drifting closer towards the green desert plants; Damian can’t help but let out an admiring sigh. “The mighty cactus, flourishing among the scorching desert sands. And yet, despite their unwelcoming appearance, they hide beauty among their prickly spines.” Glazing across the barbed patches, the specter soon finds a disturbance to the green; a bright pink flower, blooming right on the surface of a single cactus. “A single beauty; radiating among the harsh shells of the countless cacti.” Gliding his fingers across the flowers petals, Damian feels the gentle, almost silky texture of its petals. “Such a truly remarkable site bares with it a striking statement. How even the seemingly deadliest among us can show truly tender beauty.”

Breaking his site from the cacti underneath him; Damian is soon drawn towards another gorgeous site. “Ah! A deceptive contrast.” The ghost boy floats right over the prickly spines of the cacti and soon faces a glorious set of bell shaped flowers; a glass cage standing between him and the pure white flora. “The duplicitous brugmansia. The Angels trumpet. Truly a name none more deserving to represent the diabolical side of nature.” Phasing his arm through the glass, the specter delicately lifts one of the bells; continuing his description by adding: “Though their bell like bulbs may show themselves to be delectable and tempting, their petals hide an insidiously toxic poison. Even a single bite of this bell may very well send one on a terrifyingly painful trip towards the gates of heaven.” Taking his arm out from beyond the glass cage; Damian concludes is poetic statement with: “An example none more fitting for deceptive beauty. For what we may find as graceful and innocent may well be far more deadly and toxic than we perceive.”

Away from the lethal bells, the specter continues to drift through the glorious garden. Swiftly are his eyes taken towards a small bush sporting white flora all throughout its branches. “Quite the rare site. Never in my life would I imagine laying eyes upon the delicate hawthrons.” Nearing the bush of white, Damian gently brushes his palm along the white flora; adding how: “A flower seemingly so bland and uninteresting; blending in alongside the other beauties of nature. Alas, these tiny, fragile flowers hold within their stems an extremely potent healing property; the perfect ingredient to create powerful herbal medicine.” Pulling his hand away from the delicate flora, the phantom finishes his poetic dialect with: “A bold statement on how the small and blandest in our lives can have the biggest impacts.”

Out from the side; the ghost boy hears the call of his friend; Damian turning towards the source of his voice: “Hey Damian, come check this out.” Quickly, he glides towards the boy genius; gazing up to the majestic site right behind him. Witnessing the look of amazing upon his ghostly friend, Kingsley questions him with: “Ever seen something like this before.” “Only in myth.” Standing tall above them was the grand centerpiece of the entire exotic garden; a glamorous emerald tree enveloping a regal fountain. “An emerald evergreen. I’d never thought I would lay eyes upon such a wondrous site.”

The dazzled specter begins to ascend towards the top; the emeralds shine glimmering across his body as he rises. Near the trees crest, Damian plucks a piece of emerald hanging from one of the crystal branches; holding the piece of naturally grown jewelry towards the sun. Through the glass dome, the sun shine beams through the emerald; shining green upon the phantoms face. Dancing whimsically with the piece of rock in hand, Damian recites how: “This beautiful tree of shining jade truly brings the entire garden together; standing alongside the majestic flora to create a stunning symphony to represent the earth as a whole. A magical union of natures wonder.”

Finishing his dance, the ghost boy casually tosses the emerald leaf in his hand aside; soon descending back down towards Kingsley. The piece of rock ends up lodging itself into the sprinkler set at the top; the rock blocking the fountains water flow.

Landing right beside the boy genius, Damian lets loose a blissful sigh; Kingsley questioning if: “Guessing your spirits are soaring high now, aren’t they?” “As high as the stars themselves, Kingsley. My soul has soared beyond the atmosphere and has drifted through the planets themselves.” “Great to hear. You uh...You still hung up about you know who?” “As a matter of fact, I-” Right before the specter could give his say, both hear a violent shaking of metal and rock behind them. Turning back towards the tree, the duo witness the emerald evergreen swiftly start to furiously tremble; the loose bits of jade shaking off the crystal branches.

Right in front of them does a jet of water breach out from the hard emerald; Damian turning intangible before the gushing stream could hit him. The water jet phases right through the ghost boys body, soon striking the boy genius right behind him. “Kingsley!” Damian screams; watching as his host careens across the garden. Soon, the boy genius is smacked against the shops back wall; dropping down upon the grass with a thud. Witnessing Kingsley rise from the wayward flight, a relieved moan escapes from the phantoms lips. That same relief is swiftly withdrawn when he turns back towards the evergreen; geysers of fountain water breaking out from every side of the emerald tree; the sharp shards of which scatter all across the garden. As he gazes upon the disaster acting out before him, panicking cries reach Damian’s ear; glancing to his side to find the people fleeing from the ensuing chaos. One of these passerby’s lags behind the absconding crowd as he trip right onto the tiled walkway; looking above to witness a shower of sharp emerald pieces raining down towards him. The man braces for his inescapable demise; curling up as he awaits for the shards to impale his backside. But he feels not a single sting to his back, soon curling out from his brace to notice an emerald green glow shining right behind him; gazing back to discover the specter shielding him from the lethal shower with a translucence green plasma shield. “Get out of here!” he hears his savor demand. Not hesitating for a single second, the man scampers away from the ghost boy; Damian’s shield dissipating from the palm if his hand once the emerald rain ceases.

Back upon his feet, Kingsley beholds the escalating pandemonium ensuing before him; whole chunks of the evergreen now spraying out from around the fountain. Oh god. This is getting bad, really, really fast. They got have a water pressure control around her somewhere that can shut all this down. Hoping to find such, Kingsley swiftly scans through the garden for something that fails to blend in with the scenery; an element that clashes with the background as a whole. Out from the other side, his eyes soon lay upon a gray box nestled among a bed of gorgeous lilies. Jackpot!

The control box in his site, the boy genius sprints through the tiled walkway; passing through the retreating garden patrons. Kingsley glances up to witnesses his ghostly pal surveying through the sky; Damian’s attention soon baited by the boy genius when he calls. “Damian!” Gazing down to Kingsley below, the phantom listens as the boy genius orders that: “I’m going for the water control box! Get everyone outta here!” Hearing these demands, Damian descends down to the tiled pathway towards a couple of fleeing people. Hugging both by their wastes, the phantom sweeps the two out of the enclosed garden; phasing both him and the couple right through the glass dome.

Witnessing his phantom friend working on rescuing duty, Kingsley continues his race towards the control box up ahead. Out from the evergreen does another chunk of emerald come blasting out from the tree’s surface; the large jade rock careening towards the sprinting boy genius. Rolling along the tile, he slides right under the careening jewel as it passes right over him; the rocks rugged shards just inches away from his back. Once the emerald flies by, Kingsley leaps right back on his feet and continues towards the control box.

From there, the boy genius hurries towards the patch of lilies; green shadows sliding across the pathway baiting his attention up. Above, Kingsley witnesses several large shards descending right towards his path; refusing to halt for their landing. Continuing through, he sidesteps out from emeralds piercing crash down; witnessing the sizable shards digging straight through the tile. Finding another ready to crash before him, he jumps out from the jade jewelry’s landing; pieces of tile scattering upon impact. One more jagged jade digs right into tile pathway in front of him; Kingsley moving right by the broken piece of emerald.

Within the shop itself, two scruffy looking fellows calmly browse through the selection of flora along the shelves. One of them puts his nose up to a set of blue flowers and takes in the present aroma they emit. “I’m telling ya man. These hydrangeas will really make the place pop. Be a nice site among all those moldy hallways.” one of the suggests. “Hmm. Not to sure if blue really is the color we should go for.” the other doubts as they withdraw their nose from the flower. “Well, what kind are you thinkin about?” “I don’t know, man. Something like looks more natural. Maybe something green?” “Man, don’t fuckin joke about that. You remember the last disaster that happened when green came into our lives?” Before the other gent could answer, a crowd of fleeing patrons passes right behind them; the two turning their sites to the absconding shopper. “The hell’s got them so worked up?” one of them wonder. Glancing out through the window, the other answers with: “I think I might know what.” Both gazing out into the enclosed garden, the two scruffs stare out as they watch the specter and gifted scientist zoom through the scenery; their sites specifically locked towards the racing Kingsley. “Oh ho… ain’t that a familiar motherfucker.”

The boy genius lethal race through the garden seems to begin reaching its finish; Kingsley making out the piping hooked to the water control box among the lilies. Threatening to halt his progress however be another jet of water erupting from the tree. Though none of the shards tempt to fly in Kingsley’s direction, the speeding stream of water shoots right for him. Right on the mark, the geyser of fountain water strikes him aside; the technician sent flying through the garden. Kingsley’s forceful flight starts to take a turn for the worse, soon finding himself rocketing right towards the desert dwelling cacti. Kingsley closes his eyes, knowing there’s little he can do to to stop his careen towards the sandy pin traps but brace for the spiny impact.

Just before he could feel the sting of their sharp needles, he’s is snatched out of harms way. Failing to feel any of the cacti’s deadly pins pierce his skin; Kingsley opens his eyes and gazes up to find himself held in the air by his ghostly friend. “You okay?” Damian wonders. “I’m fine. Just fly me to the control box.”

At his friends request, the phantom teen glides across the garden to deliver his friend towards the lilies. Right when nearing the control box, Damian hears his passenger then order him to: “Now, drop me down!” “What!? But where nowhere near close to the ground! You’ll get hurt!” “There’s no time to land, Damian! Other peoples lives are at stake!” Although reluctant, the ghost boy heeds to his friends request and releases his grip on Kingsley’s arms; the super genius plummeting down towards the lily patch. While Kingsley’s descent proves trouble free, his landing shows to be anything but; breaking his ankle upon the solid concrete. The rough landing makes him tumble back; the gifted technician grabbing hold of his foot as he cries out; “Ah! My ankle!” “Kingsley!” his phantom friend concerns as he starts to descend. “Don’t worry about me! Just keep getting people out of here!” With that order, the ghostly teen flies away; leaving Kingsley to limp towards the control box.

Zooming back into the fray, Damian witness a huge chunk of the evergreen burst from the tree; the emeralds trajectory sent straight towards a fleeing elderly couple. With all his might, the specter jets straight towards the couple; coming neck and neck with the careening piece of crystal. Outracing the chunk of jade by only several inches, he reaches his arms out towards the two; grabbing hold of both senior citizens. The hunk of shining rock however slams down upon all three; the tiled pathway around the crashed emerald fracturing on all sides. Thankfully, all of them remain completely unharmed; Damian intangibly leading them out of the chunk of jewelry.

Finally making it to the control box, Kingsley leans over and begins digging through his pockets; soon pulling out his beloved screwdriver. With but a single stroke, he jams the tip of his tool right between the box and its cover; soon starting to wedge the lid off. It takes only several motions before he finally pries off the lid, revealing the valves and button controls held within; immediately beginning to turn the valve clockwise. The fountain set around the broken evergreen begins to finally calm; the water spurting out from the shattered walls of emerald soon dying down as a shimmering rainbow is left in its wake.

Finished leading the elderly couple out of the garden, Damian zooms back towards his technically gifted host. Kingsley himself sits relieved; a peaceful sigh escapes him as he knows the destruction is at an end. Seeing his phantom friend approaching, he rises from the patches of dirt to complement the ghost boy with: “Thanks Damian. You’re a big help. Your bravery and swift thinking here saved everyone's lives.” “Are you kidding. You’re the real hero here. I just simply kept people out of harms away. You...Your the one that actually stopped this whole mess.” Tempting to rise from the dirt, the boy genius stands on his feet; his ankles soaring horribly upon standing. Watching Kingsley fumble back down, Damian approaches worried; asking him if: “Oh my god! Are you alright!?” “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just my ankle. I’ll walk it off.” Rising to his knees, another question pops into Kingsley head; making him wonder aloud: “Still, kinda curious to know what screwed the fountain up so bad. Piping just doesn’t burst outta nowhere like that.”

Wondering such himself, Damien glides over towards the fractured fountain; taking a curious glance at its crown. Looking within the warped pipe at the top, the phantom teen spots something green clogging the inside. Phasing said object out with an intangible hand revealed to be a solid emerald leaf, a very familiar emerald leaf actually. Upon wondering why it seemed to recognize the jade crystal foliage; the answer suddenly hits him. “Oh...Oh my...” “What’s the matter, Damian!? Find something up there!?” he hears his host shout from below. Reluctant to show him; the phantom teen slowly descends to the base of the fountain where Kingsley stands. Without a word, Damian shyly presents the jade leaf to the boy genius; Kingsley surprised how: “That little thing caused the fountain to burst? That’s nuts. How did it even get up there?” “It’s because of me...” the specter shamefully admits. “What?” “I was the one who carelessly tossed this beautiful crystal leaf into the fountain’s crown. It’s because of me that the pipes burst and caused so much trouble.” “So it’s you’re fault, is it?” a third voice blames.

Gazing towards the source of the raspy intrusion, the duo are joined by an approaching old lady pointing her finger at the phantom as she continues with: “You’re the reason the piping went haywire!?” “Huh?” Damian wonders. “Look at the mess you made out of my precious garden!” Gazing upon the destruction that the owner presented, the two see before them the countless chunks of emerald having destroyed the tiled walkway, but the various flora as well. The rhododendrons ripped to shreds, the carnations crushed, the anemones annihilated, the peonies pulverized; almost every single flower in the garden pierced by jade shards. “All the work that I’ve put into this glorious garden, now reduced to nothing but a bejeweled catastrophe! But the worse of it all is the centerpiece.” Pointing towards the crystal tree; all three of them behold the result of the fountains clog; the emerald evergreen fractured by the burst piping. “My beautiful evergreen, shattered and destroyed beyond recognition and repair. Never to be beheld in its former glory again.” Contemplating the destruction of this once gorgeous garden that he had caused, despair ridden feelings begins to well within Damian. “Look, we’re sorry, okay. We didn’t mean to cause any of this.” Kingsley attempts to defend. “You think saying that’s gonna fix my garden? You know how much I’ll have to spend to restore all this; to track down another emerald evergreen!? How do you think your gonna compensate for the destruction you’ve caused!?”

With a guilty conscience weighing him down; the ghostly teen digs through his pockets to pull out his wallet. “I can-” Getting his wallet out, Kingsley lowers his phantom friends while he insists that: “Relax, I got it.” “But Kingsley, I can’t let you pay for what I did.” “You really think that you or your parents can afford to pay for all this? I got this covered.” A weak moan leaving his lips, the ghost boy puts his wallet away.

Limping through the twilight streets, Kingsley can’t help but hear his ghostly pal beside him berate himself on how: “It’s all my fault. All the wonder and beauty held within that glorious garden, all the CD’s and records that the music shop had gathered; all squandered and ruined because of my carelessness. The very pleasantries that deliver me joy and happiness, all come to ruin by my thoughtless actions. Truly, the universe wishes for me to weep; to wallow in the sorrows of my own doing.” “Step beating yourself up so much. You managed to save a whole bunch of people today; twice myself included. Swooping in and flying people out of the face of danger. You should be proud.” “Danger that I’ve caused. None of them would even have to be saved if it weren’t for me.” “It ain’t even remotely your fault. It’s how those places were constructed that was the problem. What made that flower shop keeper think that growing an emerald tree around a fountain wouldn’t lead to a disaster.”

Even with these statements, Kingsley finds his words showing little in lifting his friends mood; Damian simply staring down onto the concrete streets. “But uh, hey! Don’t be too down. We still got one more stop left on this encouragement express, and I guarantee that this final stop will really make the day. Trust me.” Upon those words does the boy genius lead Damian down a small flight of stone steps; soon opening the door at the bottom to reveal a small bar. The specter’s eyes are set alight on beholding the small stage behind the crowd; hearing the woman on stage sound off a haiku. “The wind is blowing. With it carries the glow of spring. The lily orchid blooms.” The end of her poetic haiku is met with a slew of snapping fingers; Damian's mouth open in astonishment. “The underground theater bar. I was so busy wallowing that I’d forgotten.” “I knew this would brighten you’re mood, even if it is kinda smokey. Think your up to get on there and perform.” Kingsley asks, waving away the puffs of cigarette smoke. “Are you kidding? I can’t wait.”

Brimming with excitement, the ghost rushes to the nearest empty table; soon pulling out a notebook and pencil as Kingsley sits next to him. Teething upon the neck of his pencil, a pondering groan escape from Damian’s lungs. “Nnn, I just can’t decide. What do you think I should write about?” he asks his host. “Whatever you want to write about, Damian. Poetry is a beautiful free form art with only the limits of your imagination.” “Kingsley, that not an answer. I need inspiration, dammit.”

The chime of the mic cuts in between their conversation, both looking out towards the stage to witness a woodland dressed gentleman tapping upon the tip. Drawing the entire bars attention, the gent clears his throat and begins his poetic anecdote with: “Few have never had the pleasure to experience an enchanting encounter with the heart of Asian nature such as I; beholding the unfiltered majesty of the Thailand jungles. The sunlight shinning through the bamboo thickets revealed the beauty reflecting within our precious earth. The elephants marching through the tall foliage as they guide their young showed to me the parental bonds we humans take for granted. Witnessing firsthand the symbolic relationship between the flock of oxpecker birds and pack of hippopotami proved to be a heartwarming example of the harmonious relationship between different creatures. All stunning examples of what we as a species should be striving for.” The woodland gents description of his trip through the Asian jungle lends him a mild snapping applause from the audience.

Fresh off hearing this performance does the distinct sound of rumbling hit Kingsley’s ears; the boy genius glancing down to see his stomach in an uproar. “Esh, guess those fries ain’t sitting too well. I’ll be in the bathroom if you need me.” he mentions as he rises from his seat. “Don’t take too long in there, Kingsley. Once I’m done, it’ll be my turn on the stage.” Damian insists without looking up from his notebook. With the boy genius strolling into the bathroom, he fails to witness the next poet come on stage; a woman in gothic attire standing within the spotlight.

Grabbing hold of the mic with her nail polished hands, the goth girl begins to recount the her tale by starting with. “The waxing moon shines down upon the decrepit remains of a Norwegian castle; the midnight lunar glow illuminating the rustic and dust ridden ruins of its halls revealing a haunting beauty one of which can only behold to believe. Traversing through the keeps darkest corridors, I had witnessed a magical site before me; fractured vision of the abodes glory days flash through the hallways. Passing through these sparks of nostalgia, the very air itself felt out of time; the furnishings and decors feeling new down to the very touch. But alas, these visions fade all too soon; the battered and decayed remains of the castle returning to shambles once more. Never have a seen anything more decadent such as that Norwegian keep, as if whatever haunts its halls is attempting to recollect memories lost to the unforgiving ages. Perhaps the day shall arrive when those that linger within the castle release themselves from the grip of their troubled memories and finally rest once and for all.” Having finished retelling her trips throughout the haunted castle, the gothic woman sets the mic back onto its pedestal; the audience lending her story a much stronger set of snaps. This haunting experience also sparks inspiration within the ghost boys own thoughts, Damian rapidly scribbling down words within his notebook.

Fresh from leaving one of the bathroom stalls, Kingsley draws in as much of the ocean breeze air fresheners captivating scent as he can; a refreshed breath leaving his lips. Ahh! That smells so much better. Certainly beats the puffs of smoke wafting outside. Don’t really know how anybody can live in that nicotine fueled air.

His shadow trailing behind the streetlights out the window, the technician strolls to the sink as he takes in more of the bathrooms pleasant incense. As he turns the sinks nobs, he wonders where exactly the refreshing smell originates; pressing the soap dispenser to find the scent coming from it alone. Whoa, that is some strong smelling soap; the scent itself leaking out from the dispenser just to grace everyone with its majestic scent. Almost as if the air of the very tropics themselves boarded a plane to town just to forcefully jam themselves straight into the noses of others. Wonder who sells this stuff?

Beside him does another stall open, a shadow trailing along the tiled floor as it approaches the boy genius’s backside.. All the while Kingsley himself remains distracted by his personal hygiene. Lathering his hands with the strong smelling soap, he finally rinses his palms; washing away every last bit of the suds. Taking in the smell of his palms, a relaxed sigh escapes from Kingsley lungs; the ocean breeze soon replaced with the scent of chloroform as a rag is forced over his mouth. Struggling against his assailants grasp, the boy genius looks within the mirror to find somebody holding him tightly, unable to make out any distinct details as his vision slowly fades. Kingsley soon falls into a deep slumber, the red swirling goggles once strapped to his neck slipping off onto the bathroom tile.

Upon the bars stage, the Damian’s chance in the spotlight finally arrives; the specter shyly putting his mouth to the mic as he announces: “Thank...Thank you all for giving me the chance to tell all of you my own tale. Truth be told, I’ve had this chronicle on the back of my mind for quite a long time now, and am happy to finally share with all of you one of my stories.” Sharing such earns the phantom teenager a small set of snaps from the audience before him; Damain looking down onto the paper of his notebook.

“Through a man made portal of swirling green, my entire body was cast into the emerald afterlife. Beyond the gates of the dead, I float through a seemingly endless void of tormented spirits and haunting beings; wailing in never ending agony over the mortality they’ve lost. Among the countless lost souls, creatures beyond words drift alongside them; praying upon their despair and sorrows like emotional predators. Floating along the swirling madness, a countless cavalcade of doors rest to my sides; each one unique to the next. Living behind their wood lie the countless memories of the departed, some being little more than single lit rooms, other massive expanses as far as the eye can see; though they all attempt to keep what little shards of memory their mortal lives once held. Soon, my journey led me faced with exotic islands beyond the reaches of the living; struggling against weathers of blistering heat and freezing winds. Venturing through the beautiful paradises of lost roman cities, to the unkempt hellscapes of torturous ruined prisons; I’ve ventured out through the most alien and imaginative worlds that human imagination has yet to comprehend. But at long last, my search for home came at an end; led to the very portal I was thrust into. Without a single moment of hesitance, I bolted through the swirling gate, soon met with my loving parents arms once more.”

Upon finishing his daring story through the dimension of the dead, Damian steps away from the mic and gives the audience a graceful bow. The silence is then shattered by a wave of snapping fingers, everyone in the bar applauding the ghostly teen’s haunting tale. Hearing himself receive such an ovation brings a bright smile to his face, the phantom casting away his dark hood to reveal his long sleeved dark yellow garbs underneath. That smile however starts to dissolve upon staring back towards his table; realizing his friends failed return from the bathroom.

Entering the men’s washroom, Damian sees not a single soul beyond the door; not even a sign of his host. “Kingsley? You in here?” he calls out. Alas, he fails to bait even a remote response, hearing only the acoustics of the tile repeating his call. His sites soon turns to the stalls, checking underneath to find not a single pair of feet. Opening all three of them yield nothing either, each one completely vacant. Quite peculiar to be honest. He definitely said he was going to the restrooms, certain that he was. It’s not like him to just depart without so much as warning, especially during a day out such as this.

Upon pondering this does Damian feel something crack below his feet, glancing down and lifting his foot to find a familiar set of goggles, one of the lenses shattered by the specters foot. Picking them off the floor, he knew right away who they belonged to. This-these are Kingsley’s favorite pair! He’s almost always has them around his neck. Something must have happened. He wouldn’t just leave them on the floor so carelessly like this. Betting he was kidnapped, this is a job for the cops.

With this in mind, Damian feverishly pulls out his phone; his finger resting on the police dial. Right when he was ready to make the call, a worrying thought perks up and causes him to hesitate. Hang on! If he was kidnapped, it’s almost a safe bet they plan to hold him hostage; having him at gunpoint and could cap him at any sign of the heat. Might wanna call in somebody that can make things go smoothly. Thinking this, the phantom teen scrolls up to the “C” list; his finger hovering over Cayenne’s number. Eh, maybe not. She might wind up making things worse.

Putting his phone back, the ghostly teen lets out disheartened groan. It’s no use. It doesn’t matter who can help out, they’ll just draw attention and put Kingsley in danger. Guess its more of a solo rescue mission then. Still, there is one thing that can track him down. Something that Dad talked about a couple years back. Might be kinda rusty at it, hadn’t really had much need to practice. Oh well, guess now’s a good a time as any.

Taking in a deep breath, Damian lets out calming sigh; shutting his eyes as he holds the pair of broken goggles before him. An emerald green aura begins to emit from the ghost boys palms, soon enveloping Kingsley’s swirling goggles in their glow. From the aura do the pair of goggles start to ascend from his hands; the phantom focusing upon the eye wear until nothing else remains in his mind. With enough concentration, the aura surrounding the goggles transforms into a violet hue; soon trailing away from the pair of eye wear and drifting towards the left. Opening his eyes, Damian witnesses the aura trial phasing through the bathroom window. Walking to the small window, the specter lightly taps the glass; the window falling over onto the concrete street. From there, Damian phases out from the bathroom and in to the alley; swiftly following the aura of his friend out into the streets.

Trapped within the dim confines of a ruined room, two thugs finish tying the gifted technician from neck to toe tightly to a wooden chair; remaining oddly calm to the daring situation at hand. “Sooo...why did you guys kidnap me again?” he nonchalantly asks his captors. “For real, you saying don’t remember a thing about us?” the one to his front wonders. “Mmm...Nah.” “Not even the time we kidnapped ya a few months back?” the goon wonder, hurt by the boy genius’s lack of memory. “Eh, ain’t ringing any bells.” “Seriously, how often does ya sorry ass get ganked that you don’t recognize us?” the other behind him wonders as he walks to Kingsley’s front. “Happens more times then you’d think, honestly. Ya mind being a bit more specific?” “The Raw Shuck gang?” Mentioning their identities leaves their captive ever clueless; Kingsley simply starring at them with a confused gaze. “Those three brats you had with ya tore up our sweet hideout the last time we took ya.” “Nnn...sounds familiar, but...You sure that was you guys?” Upon this absence of memory, the two crooks are left speechless; one of their eyes beginning to well up with tears. Wiping the tear off his face, the goon pulls his partner aside to talk in private.

Facing away from their captive, the one goon goes on to mention: “Told ya our reputation’s been plummeting the past couple months. Gotten so bad that this mofo we ganked a while back can’t even remember us.” “Maybe it wouldn’t have took a nose dive down to the earths core and out the other side if we had more than one hideout. The damage that assholes kids caused took out half our gang.” “Hey, it ain’t my fault that some new brats in town are muscling in on our turfs and beaten the shit outta us.” “Who’s even stompin us out anyway? Didn’t even hear a single name.” “I don’t fuckin know. Bunch of young ass mofo’s going around callin themselves the “Yellow Jacket”. Some shit like that.” “You fuckin playin with me here? What kind of twink ass freaks just strutten through the streets like tough shit name themselves after a bunch of damn wasps?” “Well, who names their gang after a psychological test?” Kingsley interjects. From behind their back, the two goon look back towards the boy genius; glancing to each other to realize their captive listening their private conversation. Fulling turning back to their tied up hostage, the two gaze upon Kingsley with intimidating glares; one of them putting their face to the boy genius’s and threatening with: “Ain’t nobody gonna bust you outta here this time.” Both make their exit out; the other goon leaving Kingsley with a departing promise. “You gonna pay for make fools outta the Raw Shuck.”

With these parting words to the two thugs leave the boy genius tied up; Kingsley himself left apathetic to their warning. “Oh no. I, Kingsley Spicer, have been captured once again by a menacing gang of thugs and entrapped under their ropes. If only I had come prepared for this inevitable situation. Oh wait...” he claims with droning sarcasm. Loosening his wrist from the tight hold of his restraints, the boy reveals a watch from under the ropes. Pressing a button to its side causes the watches face to open; a small mechanical appendage soon firing a small laser. “I did.” the boy genius sarcastically recounts as the laser cuts through the rope holding him down. Once the last of his binds has been severed, Kingsley rises from the wooden chair, brushing off the loose strands of rope. “And people wonder why I wear a watch with smartphones around.”

Outside, Damian stares onward as a nervous gulp passes through his through; beholding the run down hospital blending into the night. “Get it together, Damian. It’s an abandoned hospital...filled to the brim with murderous thugs ready to unload their guns towards an intruder at a moments notice. No big deal, nothing to fear.” Glancing down to the pair of broken goggles in his hands, the phantom teen witnesses the voilet aura trail winding through the front door. “If I play my cards just right, I can swoop in and get Kingsley right out. All with no one else the wiser.” This strategy cemented in his head, Damian makes himself invisible to the naked eye and glides right through the front door.

Set deep within the dark corridors of the hospital, two goons stroll past an open desk sitting right in the middle of a big intersection. “So they asked you how you want your pork cooked?”. “Yeah, it was really weird. You told me that pork has to be cooked in a specific way right?” “It has to be cooked thoroughly so that all the bacteria in it get burned off. Kinda shocking that they even asked in the first place.” “Yeah, probably won’t be long before they catch the heat of the FDA. That steakhouse is a lawsuit waiting to happen, just wait.” Once the two turn the corner, their thought to be captive peeks out over the counter; glancing in both directions before sneaking away in the opposite direction.

Prowling through the molding hospital halls, stealthy technician gazes up towards the ceiling; the exit signs hanging over head beaten in. Beyond it however laid another sign, pointing where the fire escape is located. Seems like the perfect getaway at first, doesn’t it? Just slip through the emergency exit and book it as fast as ya can. But with the tempting bait lies an insidious trap. Judging by the dim lights, this place is still holding the power together. The alarm to the fire escape probably hasn’t been cut. Try and walk out through there and the blaring alarm will get the whole hospitals attention. Still, there’s gotta be another way out. Somewhere nobody will even notice anybody making their getaway. Upon wondering such does Kingsley witness a shadow creeping out from the corner; soon frantically looking around for a place to hide.

Out from beyond the corner, disgruntled goon walk through the empty hallway with a mop and bucket in hand. “Man, why the fuck do I always get stuck with janitor duty. Ain’t like anybody else is going through this moldy ass shit hole. Only got me on this one man clean up crew with just fucking mop and bucket; don’t know what makes em think that anybody can clean this whole crap dump with just these thing.” Caught up in his aggravated rantings, the janitorial grunt fails to discover Kingsley hiding within one of the open patient rooms; the door broken from its hinges. Once the angry cleaner was clear from the halls, the sneaking genius slinks away from the janitor; sadly unaware of his invisible ghostly pal searching for him on the other side of the hall.

Passing the pissed grunt overhead, Damian continues to trail through the dim hospital halls; following the violet aura emanating from his friends broken goggles. His trailing search soon takes him to a split in the middle; Kingsley’s energy venturing off in both directions of an intersecting hallway. The phantom ponders why his trail would fracture so distinctly like this; only two explanations at the top of his head. Either these thugs couldn’t decide where to stow him, or...he must have broke free! If the latter is true, then Kingsley would be attempting to sneak out towards the exit. Best track him down post haste, lest these brutish thugs catch him in the midst of his escape. Judging from where the entrance is located, Kingsley would likely be going...right. Having thought this, Damian takes a right on the 4 way hallway; resuming his rescue as he continue to follow his friend’s aura.

His invisible pursuits soon lead him to an alarming predicament. Standing before him be a whole cavalcade of thugs, crooks and grunts, mingling to one another of their criminal escapades within what looked to be a small lobby. Oh...oh boy...Okay, this gonna be tight. Just gotta not make a single sound and this’ll go as silky smooth as melting butter on top of toasted bread.

Carefully does Damian start to fly over the pack of thugs without so much as a peep; as getting close to the ceiling as he possibly can without touching it. Only a few feet of space stand between their countless heads and his body; the specter quieting his breath so not to draw any attention. As the phantom teen carefully floats over the murmuring crowd, he regrets not making enough time to practice his other ghostly abilities with his father; maintaining intangibility alongside invisibility being a skill that would have come in handy in situations such as this. Perhaps once this is all over, the father could explain how to do so without contracting overwhelming migraines.

A trouble that bares its fangs when Damian’s clothes are caught on the ceiling, the unexpected jerk making the mineral fiber tile over him tremble. Glancing back, the phantom had found the bottom back of his shirt caught along a loose wire. Hearing the murmuring cease underneath, Damian gazes down to find the crooks below him staring up towards him. “Anyone else see that?” “Yeah, part of the ceiling moved.” “I saw it too!” “Probably just rats! This place is crawling with them.” “I don’t know, I ain’t hearing any scuttling.” With the crowd under him growing curious, Damian slowly attempts to pick out his shirt from the wiring; his endeavors causing the tile over him to shake. “There! It’s moving! I knew it!” “Da faq’s goin on up there!” “Someone got a stick or somethin?” “We could just stack on each other and reach up there.” “Hell, no. I ain’t havin someones dirty ass dick on the back of my neck.” “Found a broken IV pole. Will that work?” The crowd beneath him gathering ever closer, Damian hurries to unhook his shirt from the loose wire; someone from the band of crook drawing forth with a long metal pole. Right as the goon with the broken IV pole was under him, the phantom manages to free himself from the wires grasp. The crook below begins to thrust the pole upward; Damian slipping right past its metal neck just in the nick of time. Floating away from the mineral fiber tile, the lackey instead pokes at the loose bit of ceiling; lifting the tile to reveal simply the loose cables underneath. “Huh, maybe it was just some rats.” “Well, what else do you expect from an abandoned hospital?” “Don’t know. Fuckin ghost.” “Josique, shut yo damn mouth.” Finally putting the curious crowd behind him, Damian lets loose a quiet sigh; glancing back to find not a single one of them the wiser.

The phantom then attempts takes off from the gang of goons, hoping to gain as much distance from them as possible; his getaway immediately interrupted when slamming into a wayward henchman. Both the invisible ghost and goon fall right on their asses on impact; the entire crowd behind them drawn by the unexpected fall. “You okay there, man?” one of them worries. “Ah! Anybody see what the hell happened?” the crook on the cracked marble wonders. “Think you might have tripped?” “No, felt like I ran into somebody.” The crowd of criminals behind him approaching the two, Damian wastes not one more moment to escape while he’s still remains relatively undetected; zipping right past the baddie before those behind him could realize his presence.

Peeking out from the other side of a thick metal door; Kingsley finds himself having reached the roof of the hospital; the full moon illuminating the entire top of the building to reveal not a soul wandering outside. With nobody in site, the wonderous genius steps out into the night; the cool fall winds brushing past as he shuts the door behind him. Although a little shivering, the freezing night air is welcoming none the less; taking in a breath free from the foul stench of aging mold and dried blood. It never really crosses the mind the kind of horrible odors that can originate from a hospital with cleanup being a constant need. With barely anybody around to keep up maintenance, all the fowl smelling bacteria comes out to play. Kinda surprising then that no one down there has contracted any diseases yet.

Putting these thoughts behind him though, Kingsley opts to take a glance out from the side; staring down below to spot an armed thug patrolling the face of the hospital. Pretty obvious that they’d have the front of their hideout covered, but what about the sides? Looking down to the left shows a couple of crooks creeping along their HQ’s first half. Okay, maybe the right might prove more lax. But alas, walking across the rooftop revealed the hospitals right side to be just as secure as its left. Right, they probably have the back covered as well. And just as predicted, the back shows to be just as covered as the rest of the outside. They’re not really being lazy with security, are they? There isn’t a single blind spot to climb down to and sneak off. With every corner of this place covered, there’s really only one option left to take. Digging through his pockets, the boy genius pulls out his smart phone; unlocking his screen and brings up his contacts. Hard to believe they didn’t think of taking this away.

Scrolling through his friends number, he ponders who exactly to call in this time of need; knowing all too well that calling in someone like Cayenne would risk causing one heck of a commotion and could end extremely poorly. No...a situation such as this calls for someone with a far more careful hand. Somebody who can easily slip into the shadows and go by undetected; as if turning invisible to the naked eye. But who exactly can fulfill such an insanely careful and incredibly crafty roll... Eh, Damian could fit the bill.

Finally making his decisions, Kingsley taps on his ghostly pals number; putting his phone to his ear to hear the dial tone sound off. Come on, please pick up…

On the floors below, Damian himself floats through the dim halls of the hospital in pursuing his friends aura. The phantoms search soon leads him to a run down patients room, opening the door to find before him a peculiar site. Behind the destroyed equipment at the end of the room be a lone wooden chair with a set of rope surrounding its bottom. Picking the rope off the old marble floor shows the binds having been cut in half at the back; sporting scorch marks around the severed end. Touching these marks felt hot to the touch; the smell of burnt cloth still fresh.

They definitely tried to keep him held up in here; but knowing Kingsley, he swiftly figured out a way to escape. The goons outside don’t really seemed particularly alarmed; they must not realize that he’s free yet. Gahh! Should’ve took the left instead of the right back at the split. Guess there’s not much else that can be done but backtrack and hope that Kingsley can stay outta site long enough.

Right as he ready to trudge back through the halls, the phantom’s phone blares out Drakes “In my feelings”; Damian scrambling through his pockets to pull out the source of the echoing ringing. From the side, the phantom feverishly puts his call on hold and shuts down his phone entirely; regrets of not doing so sooner flaring in his mind. Though there’s little time for self deprecation, as the specter soon hears the sound of approaching footsteps. “Who the hell’s playing Drake in here?”

Three thugs soon storm through the doorway; gazing within the seemingly empty patient room as one of them assures that: “Swear I heard it come from in here.” “Think some dumbass might’ve left their phone in lyin around?” the other wonders. “Maybe. Let’s look around. See if someone’s hiding in here.” the last suggests. All three of them start to look deeper within the ruins of the patients room, unaware of the source of the noise standing right beside them. Damian remains completely quiet as the crooks search through the broken hospital furnishings; inching closer towards the rooms open exit.

One of the lackeys soon comes across the chair surrounded by freshly cut rope. “Hey, guys. We kidnapped anybody recently?” he wonders. “Yeah, somebody finally knocked that Spicer brat and brung him back. Have him stowed up somewhere. Why?” one of them questions. “Uh, think they might have got out.” “What!?” From the other side of the room, the goon rushes to her comrades side and beholds the very same site as he. Picking the rope up, she ran through its string to come upon its severed end. “Dammit! How the hell, he get out so fuckin fast!?” “We gotta go tell the others. Who know’s how long he’s been sneakin around here?”

With the crooks alarm does Damian finally leave through the doorway; soon meeting with the blunt force of a wayward baseball bat. The impact causes the phantom to fall to the marble floor; soon becoming visible to the world once again. All within the patient room stares down onto him; surprised of his sudden appearance. “The fuck! Where the hell’d he come from!” “Swear, this town is full of freaks!” “Didn’t even see him at all. Who punched his lights out?” “That be me, mofo’s.” someone speaks up. Coming out from the hall, a forth crook wearing an odd pair of goggles comes in wielding a baseball bat. “Josique!?” “Ya’ll callin me fuckin stupid for blowin my cash on inferred goggles! Bet all ya’ll asshole kickin yoselves for constantly given me shit! “God dammit, Josique. You wastin yo greens on stupid shit stead of crack or hoes? The fucks wrong with ya?” Well, that look like a waste a greens, mofo’s!?” he gloats, points to the groaning ghost boy. Writhing on the floor; Damian’s consciousness begins to elude him; the last words he hears before blacking out be: “Just shut up and get the cuffs.”

Anxiously awaiting atop the roof, Kingsley stands by as he attempts to call for his phantom friends; the droning ring sounding out in his ear sweat drips down his forehead. A disheartened sigh leaves his lungs when the tone goes straight to voicemail; spurring the chance to leave a message and jumping back to his contacts. Guess there really isn’t much options left to take now, is there? Things might get kinda messy with Cayenne charging straight in, but what else can be done at this point. Just hope she doesn’t go overboard this time.

The boy genius scrolling back up towards the C’s in his contacts, his finger hovers over Cayenne’s number. Just when he was ready to make the call, his phone picks up an incoming call; the oncoming number soon turning to Damian’s name. Seeing his ghostly pal calling, Kingsley waits not one more moment to take the call; putting the phone up to his ear and pleading: “Damian! Thank goodness I finally caught you. Listen, I’m trapped up here at the top of an abandoned hospital. I need you come get me before the goons down below find out I’m-” “Hello, dear friend.” a deep voice greets. Kingsley nerves wind right back up when hearing the unfamiliar tone on the other end. “Mind staying on the line as you come back down, buddy? I have a guest down here that I think you be interested to reunite with.”

Held within the dim confines of a central office, Damian struggles to free himself from a set of neon green handcuff. Turning intangible fails to release his hands from their grip; a painful shock delivered to his whole body that forces him back to the physical plane. As he recovers from the sudden shock, a voice to his side warns that: “Slipping outta those cuffs ain’t gonna be that easy for ya, pal.” The specter gazes over towards a slim man donning a pale business suit; his face sporting black markings around his eyes. “I know. These are standard phantom containment cuffs. Only official phantom patrol officials are allowed access to these. How did someone like you get your hands on a pair?” Damian demands. “Kinda hate to admit it, but nabbing a pair of those puppies wasn’t easy. Had to go through a ton of black market channels just to try and find the damn things. Course since last time, we knew that it had to be a necessary investment. A little precaution just in case. And judging from the way your struggling in those cuff; I’d say it was all worth it.” Turning away from his ghostly captive, the man puts his feet up over his desks and lays back on his chair.

Right after he gloats does his office door creaks open, the boy genius himself being led in by a crook with a gun pointed to his back. “Ah, speaking of which, glad to see you back. Allow me to formally welcome you into the depth of the Raw Shucks den.” Damian steps out from the shadows, fervently asking: “Kingsley! Are you okay!? Did they hurt you!? I- Hang on second.” The phantom then turns his sites back towards the man behind the desk, wondering: “The Raw Shucks? Really? What kind of crime boss would name their gang after some psychological test?” “I was asking the exact same thing.” Kingsley adds. Slamming his fist against the desk, the boss rises from his seat; insisting that: “It’s meant to be a bad ass name! It’s supposed to tell others that we’ll psychologically ruin them. Get inside their mind. The trauma we cause’ll fuck them up. Ya get it? Come on.” Everyone in the office stands in the office in silence; perplexed of the boss’s naming reasons. Glancing to the goon holding Kingsley at gunpoint; Damian watches as she simply just shrugs. The lack of a response makes the boss pinch his nose as an irritated groan escapes his lungs. “Where the hell was I?” Snapping his finger; he reminds himself that he cut off at: “Right. Right. Threats.”

Sitting back down, the boss picks up where he left off; promising Kingsley that: “We’re gonna make you pay for crashing our party last time, Spice boy. Those brat you sicked on us ain’t here to help you out this time. Not to mention having your ghostly pal here on his leash. The bust up since then set us back big time. Rival gangs have been coming in and muscling in on our turfs, drug trafficking ring’s been shafted, heists and robberies have been dwindling to a crawl; it’s all been just a really shitty month to be honest. But ya know something?” The boss then vaults right over his desk; finishing his statement as he lands with: “All that’s gonna change real soon once we cash in on the pretty pennies both your ransoms will make. The investments we made in our hour of need will pay themselves back tenfold. With all those greens fueling are return, we’ll take back Townsville’s underbelly and conquer what lies beyond!”

His painted gaze aimed towards the boy genius, boss commands him with: “Now, hands up, phone down.” Feeling the cold steel of the iron barrel on his back, Kingsley calmly complies with the bosses orders; dropping his phone and raising both hands over his head. After picking up the mobile device, the boss glances right above his hostage’s head to find the boys hands balled tightly; immediately ordering his guest to: “Fist...Open.” With those words does Kingsley look towards his ghostly friend; Damian staring back as his eyes squint. Following the bosses words does the boy genius open his palms; releasing a small black ball that drops towards the ground. Both the boss and phantom watch as the featureless ball rolls along the marble crack; Damian’s eyes widening as he realizes his friends plan. The little ball finally explodes; Kingsley giving his phantom friend a determined smile as the entire office is swiftly enveloped in a shroud of white. Coughing up the smoke bombs discharge, the crime boss flails about to try and clear out the clouds; several gunshots sounding off in the chaos. The smoke eventually dissipates, the boss and his armed lackey finding their guest having vanished. Glancing back to his desk’s side, they saw that the phantom has disappeared as well. A small growl coming from between his teeth soon morphs into a full blown scream; the boss crushing the boy genius’s phone with his bare hands. He swiftly turns towards his goon; demanding that she: “Don’t just stand there, go after them!” Once the crook sprints out into the hall, her boss vaults back on the other side of his desk; grabbing hold of the intercom and announcing to the entire hideout. “Attention, my lovable pack of marauders. We got a couple escapees scuttling in our halls! Get yourselves armed and scramble towards the west wing, on the double!”

His announcment echoing across the entire hospital, Kingsley and Damian sprint as fast as their legs can carry them. “You really can’t phase us outta here?” the boy genius question. “Unfortunately, no. As long as these accursed cuffs cover my hands, nearly all of my powers are locked under its steel. Curse the bounding achievements of paranormal technology!’” “Damian, relax. I can get them off. We just have to find someplace to hide so I can pick the lock.”

Winding and weaving themselves through the molding halls, the duo attempt to break down every door they can in hopes of finding a place to hide; most of the doors they encounter either locked or stuck shut. Those few with no doors fail to be effective hiding places; rooms they come across either being cluttered messes or small closets.

Their escapades are eventually come to a dead end, Damian stopping in his tracks when turning the corner. Kingsley unintentionally tackles him down, both boys falling upon the dirty marble floor. “Ah, why’d you stop?” the boy genius wonders; soon looking along his side to find the answer. Rising from the floor, the duo are faced with a squad of armed goons and crook; all their firearms aimed right at the two. “Oh, wow. They gathered faster then I anticipated. That’s...quite impressive actually.” the technician admits. “Yeah, bitch. The Raw Shucks don’t slouch around. Now, you two piss ant’s scramble back your rooms before we cap yo asses.” one of them warns.

To the specters side, Kingsley whispers that: “I only packed the one smoke bomb. I don’t got anything else up my sleeves.” Gazing out to the group of armed thugs set before him, the phantom puts on his bravest face and counter that: “You might not...but I do. Stay behind me and plug your ears.” With that answer, Damian start to approach the front of the crowd; Kingsley frantically whispering: “What are you doing!?” “Something that my dad said that I should only do in emergencies.”

The phantom teen stepping to the front of the pack of lethal crooks; one of them warns the boy to: “Come on, kid, don’t be a hero. Just back away and play nice.” Breaking his determined glare, Damian takes in a mighty breath of air; the crowd before him perplexed why the boy was holding his breath. Their answer is soon given in the form of a bellowing screech; Damian letting loose powerful emerald waves from his mouth. Kingsley backs away towards the wall, covering his ears upon the horrifying screech. The intense wail starts pushing the thugs before the phantom back; the emerald waves causing them to careen into the walls. While some try to block out the unholy shrieking, others attempt to fire upon the bellowing phantom; their bullets failing to travel far as the emerald waves push them back. The constant blast of booming screams starts to make the entire hospital tremble; the walls before him beginning to give way. Soon, Damian’s tormenting wails breaking through the facilities structure, entire chunks of the hospital being blown away by his green screech.

Eventually, the boy genius hears the ear piercing screams die down; Kingsley opens his eyes to find an astonishing site. Before his ghostly friend, the entire side of the hospital had been completely destroyed; a funneling hole left remaining in the aftermath. He finally breaks his stare out into the open night sky when he witnesses Damian fall to his knees; the specter coughing up blood onto the broken marble floor. “Damian!” the boy genius shouts; rushing to his phantom friends side. Kneeling to Damian, Kingsley worries if: “Are you okay!?” Ignoring the boy genius’s question, the ghostly teen puts his entrapped hands before Kingsley. “Get these cuffs off. They’ll be here any minute.” he wheezes out. Upon this request, Kingsley frantically digs through his pockets, soon pulling out his trusted screwdriver and jamming its tip straight into the cuffs lock. As he shifts his tool through Damian’s binds, both begins to hear the echo of constant footstep approaching; the ghost boy urging his friend to: “Hurry...” Kingsley looks back to see shadows he begin to creep out from the corner, making him haste his lock picking. Finally, the specter’s cuffs come undone, the technological metal binds falling to the floor.

Damian witnesses a pack of crooks turn the corner, witnessing their barrels aimed right towards the two. Before a single one of them could open fire; the phantom bounces on the boy genius. Kingsley hears the sound of gunfire echo through the hall; looking beyond his phantom friend to find the goons behind them unleashing their salvo atop the two. Though dozens of bullets pass right through them, not one does any harm to them. The teenage genius looks down to find Damian hugging him as tight as he possibly can, the phantom turning them both intangible against the led shower. With whatever strength he bares left; the specter jumps away from the small cavalcade of armed of criminals and rockets out from the very hole that he’s created. The thugs behind them attempt to shoot the escaping duo right out of the sky, none of them coming close to land a single bullet on either of them.

In his flight, Kingsley looks back towards the hospital disappearing in the distance; admitting that: “I can’t believe we actually made it outta there in one piece. Damian, your-” Just before the boy could speak any further, his friends strength finally fades; both boy soon begin to plummet down towards the buildings below. Both soon land right on top of an apartment building; the duo rolling across the rooftop before stopping right near the edge.

Slowly rising from their rough landing, Kingsley looks on towards the direction of their escape; claiming that: “I don’t think they’re gonna pursue us this close to the city.” Turning back to his savor, he begins to conclude that: “I think we should be safe to-” Silencing his statement, Kingsley witnesses his phantom friend kneeling on his knees; the sound of sniveling sounding out across the rooftop. “What...What the matter? Are you still hurt?” the boy genius wonders, nearing Damian’s side. “I’m...so...worthless...” Taken aback by his self loathing statement, Kingsley looks to his phantom friends face to find tears trickling down his cheeks. “What?” “I screwed practically everything over. I couldn’t keep you from getting kidnapped, I broke your favorite pair of goggles, and when I tried rescuing you, I just wound up getting caught myself.” he reviews, presenting Kingsley shattered lens to him. Taking the eye wear from his ghostly pals palms, the boy genius hears him continue with: “All day, things how been taking a turn for the worse and its all cause of me. I’m nothing but trouble. Cayenne was right. I’m nothing but a melodramatic coward.” Kingsley throws his broken set of goggles aside; patting his self loathing friend on the shoulder as he denies that: “Damian, that ain’t true in the slightest. Far from it. I probably would have wound up becoming a led filled organ pinata if you hadn’t came in and got me out of that nest of crooks.” “But...you still had to come and save my spectral hide after I got locked in ghost proof cuffs.” “And you still went and blew a ton of them away. Even with those things on; you not only took them out, but blew up a whole half of a hospital, all just by screaming. We would have been caught dead if you couldn’t do that.”

Wiping away the snot from his nose; Damian adds with his retort with: “No one’s gonna believe any of this coming out of our mouths though. People like Cayenne’ll still see me as nothing more then a spineless poet.” A melancholy sigh escaping from his lungs, the teenage specter, continues with: “Much like natures mighty lifeline, the graceful honeybee. Keeping their world beautiful and full of life. But alas, those that benefit from them the most see them as nothing but a nuisance, much like I.” “Stop thinking like that. You shouldn’t care what the vast majority of people think of you anyway. Doing that’s just gonna make you get all kinds of unnecessary stress. You know who’s opinion you should really be concerned with?” “Who’s?” Pointing his finger right to his ghostly pals nose; Kingsley simply answers: “Yours.” Kingsley sees that this statement fails to waver Damian’s self doubt; swiftly thinking what he should add to cheer up his phantom friend. “But…even if you still aren’t too sure about yourself. Just know that...you’ll always be a hero in my eyes.” This final guarantee makes a smile crack between the spectral teens cheeks; a laugh soon escaping through his teeth. “Thanks Kingsley.”

Rising from the course roof, Damian stands tall by Kingsley’s side; both boys starring out up to the full moon as it shines its lunar glow down upon the town. “The full moon. Shining its brightest when facing the earth and its struggles. Much like how all of us can shine when we face our existence.” “Glad your feeling better, buddy.”

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Might’ve given credit about Damian earlier, but just in case:

Damian belongs to: @princesscallyie