#youre just his upperclassman i assure you

[astarothva]

バレンタインrkgk

[nariism]

*ੈ✩ LAST WORDS OF A SHOOTING STAR

pair. itadori yuji x reader

synopsis. in the 3 days following the shibuya incident, itadori yuji emerges as a husk of his former self. with his immediate execution resumed, you both grapple with the feelings you have for each other and come to terms with his impending death.

content. hurt/comfort (lots of comfort, thank art because i was gonna be mean about this and they convinced me not to), slightly canon divergent (taking place between shibuya and the culling games), fluff and minor angst, yuta is the best wingman

wc. ~4.4k

NOVEMBER 1 2018

You imagine that your face was rather ghastly when you received the news.

"Execution?" You repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. No, that was the wrong description. It tasted of death—like iron and the depths of Hell filling your mouth until you were gurgling on it.

Unlike the rest of the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo, you had been ordered to stay back with Shoko in case of an emergency. You remember your exile from battle had left a similar rotten flavour in your mouth.

You vanished off the face of the earth after the incident was over. Most probably presumed you died in the aftermath. Devoured by a curse, they would say and shake their heads. You were always troublesome. And then they would move on with the rest of the world, all the same.

Lives were only temporary in the world of curses. Focus on who you can save, not who is already gone. They'll only end up a curse in your sleep. What a horrible notion to have.

The truth is that you'd been whisked away with Yuta, who seemed to be scheming a plan of his own. Perhaps as a middle finger to the higher ups he hated so much, or perhaps just for his own selfish reasons. You wouldn't know until he was finished carrying it through—he's too good at keeping secrets.

He wanted your reverse cursed technique, you knew that much for sure, even though he could do it himself. You were useful by his side, fitting into his plot in a way you could not in Shibuya. Feeling some sort of obligation and satisfaction, you followed him like a lost puppy.

And now here you are, seated by a dimming fire in the abandoned part of the city. Yuta was too clever for his own good. You suppose Gojo taught him some things well. This was their plan after all.

Yuji was safe, if only for this moment in time.

"Now with Gojo gone, it would have been easy for the higher ups to send assassins your way."

Ruthless and truthful, you flinch, but Yuji does not. He remains perfectly still in your hold, with your hands rotating his face around to get a better look at his wounds. You pour your cursed energy into him, hoping to breathe life back into his eyes, but they stay dull and empty.

"We'll find a way to stop this," you assure, reaching over to take a sanitizing wipe to clean an open cut. Yuta was too rough on him, but it was at least believable that Yuji was dead. He doesn't even recoil from the alcohol stinging his flesh, too engrossed in his own thoughts.

"Why?" He asks weakly. You gawk at him, but then it melts away into a softness that finally makes him blink up at you. "I'm evil."

"You're not evil, Yuji."

"I am. I killed those people. I did." His voice comes flat and defeated, nothing like the one you used to listen to over dinner while he reenacted shitty western films.

You never realize what you'll miss until it's gone. It's hollow, the ache in your heart.

"You don't understand. How could you? All this blood on my hands—"

"It was Sukuna," you quickly refute.

"And Sukuna only lives because I do!"

His voice raises at you, causing the flames behind you to flicker and crack. It's enough for Yuta to step in, acting as a barrier between your tense bodies. Yuji seems to shrink at this, realizing his emotions have run amok and that he has yelled at you.

You only stare back at him in bewilderment, like a frightened animal. Your upperclassman shakes his head.

"Enough of this. We need to start making plans."

You lay awake that night, alone and anxious. Yuta has taken the first shift of watching and patrolling while the two of you rest, though hesitant to leave you alone. He told you it’s another reason he dragged you along: having three people to rotate shifts instead of just two would be easier on your bodies and minds. The city is not what it used to be, now overrun with curses of all grades.

You reassured him it would be fine, that you would fall asleep quickly and so would Yuji—his body has to run out of steam eventually, right? Oh, what a fool you were.

The tension is so heavy that it's awkward, even though you're sleeping on opposite ends of the tunnel.

"Sleep," you demand as if you were Inumaki, like you have the power to curse him.

His eyes flutter open. Even in the firelight, you don't see any shine in them, seeming as if they had been extinguished of life. "Why don't you?"

"I can't until you do."

"That's stupid," he tells you.

It's not the first time you've argued like this. Back when the world felt right, you would sneak in through his dorm window well into the hours of the night. Platonic, you had convinced yourself. You snuck into his bed seeking companionship as a friend. That's the lie you gorged on.

A piece of you knew, and you're sure he did too, that the way your hands explored his arms was unnatural for two friends, and that friends wouldn't sneak into each other's rooms like this with such severe punishment on the line.

It was safe in his arms, with the dull hum of his television running an old horror film in the background. You didn't have to think about much other than his warmth when you sat between his legs with your back to his chest. Or when his arm was draped over your shoulder and you were pressed into his side—actually, you think you preferred this one though you felt sorry for his sore arm.

You would bicker about dumb, pointless things. Which movie is better, or which character deserved to be mutilated more. It would go on for so long that Megumi would bang his fist on their shared wall to get the two of you to shut up.

There was no curse strong enough to change time itself, so you keep your thoughts and memories to yourself when you respond.

"You'll be too tired to function on your shift," you reason.

"You both will be fine without me." Better off without me, you know he means. You've gotten good at reading between his lines.

You slowly sit up in your sleeping bag, eyes never leaving Yuji. He seems so frail right now, even though he looks more adult than he ever has before.

"Human Earthworm 4 was better than 2," you suddenly say. His eyes peer open again in confusion.

"Huh? 2 was way better."

"I liked the love story in 4," you argue, slowly getting out of your bag to shuffle to his side of the concrete tunnel. He looks at you as if you've said something outlandish, too preoccupied with his thoughts to wonder why you've come so close.

"2 had the best special effects though."

Your body shifts under his blanket.

"But 4 had a happier ending." (As far as 'happy' goes in the Human Earthworm series, at least.)

His arm falls around your waist as it has a hundred times, pulling you into his chest.

"Whatever," he huffs. The next topic comes fast and you're thrown into a full blown conversation with him. If you concentrate enough, you can imagine your bodies being tangled together in his bed, safe and sound.

Concrete and fire and the stench of curses melt away until he's all you can focus on.

"You have weird taste in movies," he concludes with his eyes drifting shut.

NOVEMBER 2 2018

You think you know how to fix broken people until you find that they are more than skin and bones. 

You learn one thing after the Shibuya Incident: there are wounds residing within Yuji just as much as there are marking his flesh.

Yuta, you realize, had left the two of you alone to sleep and has protected you all night. You'll make it up to him, you reason. Yuji deserved to sleep.

When you wake up to his sleeping face, you think his cuts are healing nicely. But then his expression twists up in terror—a nightmare, if he even had enough energy left in him to conjure up dreams. He murmurs in his sleep, shakes his head a few times and thrashes around so much you're surprised you slept through the night by his side.

"Sukuna," he's whispering. Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna. King of Curses. The second voice tormenting him that lives in his own brain like a parasite. You bury yourself into his chest and hold him as tight as you can. He relaxes, body releasing its rigid form, but the murmurs continue.

He is shattered beyond repair. No amount of cursed energy could fix that, even if you tried.

You had once watched Yuji electrocute himself trying to set up the janky old television in his dorm room.

He fell back onto the floor with a loud crash, head hitting the wood so hard you thought he might have a concussion. It caused such a racket that Megumi came running into the room asking what happened, demon dog ready behind him in case of an ambush.

You rushed to the floor, discarding all the food you had settled in your lap and crumbled beside him to scoop him into your arms.

"Yuji!" You called him. People rarely used his first name. You felt special, like you knew him better than others did and for some reason that was a privilege. "Are you okay?"

He laughed in your arms, seeming unfazed by the fact that electricity had run through every vein in his body. "I'm fine, see? My finger just slipped."

You and Megumi both sighed in relief, though you always thought it was strange when you reflected on it. Yuji was a funny guy, yes. He was equal parts humour and destruction but not a klutz. Mistakes happen, so you let it slide until now, but some part of you was nagging to ask.

"That day," you start while rolling up your sleeping bag. "You electrocuted yourself. Remember?"

He looks at you funny over his shoulder. Yuta has already started cracking open cans of food for breakfast, embers of your dead fire cracking.

"Hmm, yeah. I remember. Why?"

"I just thought..." you trail off. "Well, Sukuna makes you tough to a lot of things. I'm surprised small electric shocks aren't one of them."

Sukuna. A name you'd been avoiding since this morning. Sickening silence settles between you. It's so heavy that you pause in your cleaning to look at him, brow raised.

"Yeah," he coughs. "Well, maybe I exaggerated."

"Huh?" You sound annoyed now. "You scared us half to death!"

Yuji only falters in his own chores. When he looks at you again, there's a longing in his gaze that you don't know how you could have missed. Or perhaps it was never there until now.

"It was nice to have you fawning over me," he admits.

The day goes on and all you feel is a terrible grief.

You become painfully aware of each millimeter the sun glides across the sky, from one horizon to the other. Time slips through your fingers fast as sand.

Horrifically, you can't find anything to talk about to fill the emptiness—Nobara and Megumi feel off the table considering the extent of their injuries. You don't even dare to breathe Gojo's name, let alone speak of him so boldly as Yuta is.

You're afraid that Yuji will spiral again, confused and unwilling to cooperate with his judgement clouded by loss. It's not your fault, you would say. It is, he would argue. It would do neither of you good, so you idle around while he and Yuta devise plans to tiptoe around the higher ups.

A part of you knows that if either of you told him to submit and die, he would. He's already teetering on the edge of self-destruction.

On the outside, he seems perfectly indifferent. Gaze steady, face stone and unchanging as he speaks. He's doomed, ill-fated, someone full of misfortune. He looks so lonely that the air itself parts for him where he stands.

To shoulder so much responsibility, so much death, maybe he truly is alone. Some fraction of him, at least—a piece of himself only he would ever understand.

Your hand snakes into his without a second thought. You don't know why you did it, nor do you have any reasoning that he doesn't yank away from you. His hand trembles, and it's then that you realize his whole body is wracked with tremors that don't match his distant disposition.

The second thing you learn is this: when Yuji self-destructs, he does it from the inside-out.

Itadori Yuji loves chocolate cake.

He loves all food, really, acting like your friend group's personal food dumpster whenever any of you were full. But chocolate cake you knew he had a sweet tooth for.

You used to bring it with you to his dorm, stopping by the convenience stores on the way home to grab a pre-packaged slice from the fridge for him to eat.

"You're making a mess," you would tell him with a frown, using your thumb to wipe up frosting from the corner of his mouth. You would lick the pad of your finger clean after that, and he would watch almost in a trance.

It's the reason why you stop on one of your patrols, poking through the fridge section of a convenience store. The power has been out for a long time in this part of the city, all the food is already room temperature, but you figure this is fine as long as it smells okay.

The way Yuji's face lights up when he sees you is all it takes for the worry to go away.

It briefly feels as though nothing has ever gone wrong—that after this slice of cake the two of you will tumble back onto his mattress and turn on another showing of Titanic. (He groaned about it once, saying he got KO'd too many times during this film. You only laughed in confusion.)

At the end of the day, you know those days will never come back to you, lost forever in the wind.

Fire dances before you and you watch, enchanted by the flames. You remember last night, how not even the firelight could make Yuji look the same as he did before. You turn your head to look at him, to see if it's any different tonight, just for your cheek to be caught in his palm.

His thumb traces your lip, the way you used to do to him. You recognize the pull of his finger against your flesh, the swipe of it to get frosting off, but he still seems dissatisfied.

"What?" You ask.

"It didn't come off," he mutters, leaning in dangerously close to observe. Heat rises all the way to your cheeks and makes your hairs stand on end. His touch is like molten lava. You wonder if it has something to do with the monster living inside of him.

"I can't see it," you whine without a mirror.

He draws a little closer, until he's inches from your face. "Let me..."

You've suddenly been dropped into cold, unknown waters. This is all unfamiliar. He's rushing this, as if making up for all the time the two of you lost pretending you were only friends. As if he can cram all the things he's wanted to tell you into one night.

Recoiling away, you find yourself hesitating. If he kisses you, this all becomes too real. It's an acknowledgment of his impending death. That the thread of his life is finer and further stretched than yours is.

An unpleasant thought rings through your mind. What if I become a curse on him?

"This only ends badly for us," you whisper, but the conviction is missing from your voice.

He doesn't care. At least, it doesn't look like he does. Who knows what he's thinking right now?

"Who cares?" He says. "We're Jujutsu Sorcerers. Everything bad happens to us no matter what."

You don't have any rebuttal to that, no argument that forms in your mind that could challenge his words. He was right. Only disaster befalls Sorcerers. Disaster and grief.

For a while you had forgotten, living these idyllic months watching the days pass by. You feel like you wasted that precious time worrying about stupid things, like what to have for breakfast or what kind of snacks you should pick up for movie night.

(It ended up being popcorn every time. He liked to piss off Sukuna with it, saying the King of Curses would never get to experience the pleasure of picking out kernels from his teeth. You scoffed but bought it anyway.)

Another thought crosses your mind: Yuji is more fit to be in a rom-com, or a television series where the good guys always win. Not this tragedy. Not this massacre.

You wonder if he's ever felt the same way. If he ever wished he could reach into the sky and turn the sun back to a time before he even knew what a curse was.

If you’d met each other under different circumstances, would this have been a different story? The thought makes your heart ache, a part of you so deep that even if you reached into your chest and plucked it, you'd still wail.

"Can I?" He asks you, eager but quiet. Had this been a few months ago, you imagine that he would have had this spark in his eye. That his lips would be crashing into yours with no inhibition.

But Yuji has always been selfless, you think he always will be. He doesn't want to drag you down if you don't want to—an out, they call it. An escape route just before he careens into a ditch.

Hope has drained from every inch of his expression. This is his loneliness talking.

Despite the dread that licks up your spine, you cup his face. You swear he jolts slightly beneath your touch, as if you've reached out to strike him down. A retribution he believes he deserves.

He kisses you like it's his last day on earth. 

You learn one last thing: Itadori Yuji tastes familiarly of death.

Yuta decides to leave you alone for a second night in a row. His presence is so crushing that you know he's alive, but he stalks off somewhere else, leaving just you and Yuji huddled by the pitiful fire you've built.

He once claimed himself jokingly to be a love expert, and then ran off to Kenya for so long that you lost track of how much time passed. You wish you'd asked him before he left what he meant, but at the time it seemed irrelevant. Insignificant. The name Itadori Yuji had not yet been impressed into your heart like a seal.

You're busy setting up the sleeping bags, this time pushing them flush together. They're so close you can barely see the seam between them. Yuji stands on the other side of the fire, watching.

It reminds him of all the times you'd ever scolded him for not making his bed in the morning. I'm gonna crawl back in tonight anyway, he said. Who cares if it's messy?

Idiot, you would call him. But there was no malice behind it. He treated it like a pet name, a badge of honour to be your idiot.

Life felt so simple back then. He was full of determination and life and stuck to his morals as best he could. When he wavered he would text you to come over so you could fall asleep on his chest and suffocate any other thoughts out of his head.

"I've never felt so powerful before," he admits quietly.  You turn to look at him, curious. "Like I could do anything in the world."

There's a negative connotation to that, you know. He could do anything. The world would crumble at his feet and there he would stand, laughing at it all. It isn't his will, not even slightly, but the demon taking refuge in his body would love to see the blood pool.

"Like I could just... reach out and—"

"Yuji!" You hiss, lurching forward to take his hand into yours and retreat from the flame. The skin is already pink and blistering, scorched by the embers. You twist his wrist around, observing where the fire licked the deepest, and pour your energy into him.

When you look up to see if he's crying, or at least grimacing in pain, you find only his smiling face—warm and adoring. For a second it feels like the world isn't burning around you.

It was nice to have you fawning over me.

You wipe that stupid smirk off his face, leaning in to smear a kiss along the scar on his lip.

"Idiot," you say, and he laughs for the first time in so long that it sounds foreign in your ears.

(He doesn't fall asleep that night. He would rather savour the sound of your soft snores, memorize the form of your body in his hold, and try his hardest to burn this into his brain.

So be it if you come to curse him one day. He would welcome you with open arms.)

NOVEMBER 3 2018

The day comes when Megumi sneaks into your hideout, asking for help.

His sister, he explains. He needs help saving Tsumiki. For some reason, resentment boils in your stomach, but then it's snuffed just as fast.

Two days and two nights you've spent pretending Japan isn't collapsing, content with sitting idly by as curses overran Tokyo. You're sure Megumi thought you to be cowards, that you were all hiding under this bridge to wait out the hellstorm that was raining down on your homes.

It was true to some extent. Once Yuji stepped out into battle again, that was that. You're not sure things would ever be the same again, though you suppose you lost the privilege of routine days ago.

"Let me come too," you urge. Three pairs of eyes land on you.

"No," Yuji pushes. "It's dangerous."

"I can fight!"

"You can't," he pauses, then corrects himself, "You won't."

Awkward silence settles over your encampment. Yuta stirs, standing to hold you steady by the shoulders.

"If we need help... if one of us is hurt, we'll need you unharmed. Do you understand?"

Ah, ever so wise, your upperclassman. So easy to persuade you. There's a reason why he's the chosen one only second to Gojo.

You swallow the bile that fights up your throat. "What if you don't come back?"

Yuji steps in this time, knocking away Yuta to hold you by the face. Get a grip, this means. Pull yourself together, don't you dare fall apart in front of me.

"We will."

You once considered telling him how you felt, letting it eat away at you until Nobara groaned in disgust.

“If Itadori starts dating before I do, I’ll puke.”

You remember that you laughed, thinking she was so dramatic. You loved that about her. “I think you would do worse.”

She glared at you, foot lightly kicking at your shin under the table. Still, she made sure to push equal amounts of rice to your side of the plate. “I might burn a village down,” she huffed, placing her chin on her palm.

“You’re fine. Even if I told him how I feel, I don’t think he’d accept.”

“Huh?” Nobara sounded genuinely confused, raising a brow at you. “What makes you think that?”

You didn't know how to answer that. Maybe you were just afraid that you had misinterpreted everything, that the way he held you was protective in a familial manner and that he would slam his door in your face when you tried.

Looking back on it, you can imagine him in the next room ranting about the same things to Megumi.

“He still has posters of Jennifer Lawrence on his wall,” you argued weakly while shoveling rice into your spoon. She watched you take your bite with her lips parted in disbelief.

You wish you had told him, then. Not that it would have changed where you both ended up.

You watch as they pack up their things.

Megumi's demon dog keeps you quiet company, tail thrashing against the ground as you slick back its fur. They talk around the dying flames, devising plan after plan. None seem safe. None would be.

Yuta and Megumi leave first, taking the lead in front of the pack. His dog melts into the shadows and disappears, leaving you sitting alone.

"I want to take you back, but..." Yuji glances over his shoulder toward his death sentence. "Will you make it okay on your own?"

You get up slowly, as if to draw out the time he stands before you. A thousand questions run through your head: what if you never see him again? What if this kills him, not by body, but by his already damaged soul?

He must sense the racing of your mind, so he leans in to engulf you in his arms. In an instant, memories of those days spent lounging in his bed, shoveling your food onto his plate, and purposefully talking louder to tease Megumi come flooding.

A year you would never forget. You're sure it'll become a curse if you dwell, so you tell him: "I'll make it. You go on, they need you."

I need you, too. Stay. If only it were so simple.

He smiles at you, warm like the sun that's hidden behind the barrier. Itadori Yuji looks like a ghost of his former self, battle-worn and covered in scars where his skin used to be smooth. He kisses you again for good measure, making sure he remembers the way you sigh into his mouth.

When he pulls away, there's life gleaming in his eyes.

"Let's watch Human Earthworm 5 when I come back."

Your thumb brushes the corner of his lip. You open your mouth to speak, to finally tell him the truth after all this time. You'd rather not die regretting you never said it, after all.

But you stop.

"I prefer Titanic," you confess. He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. Then he’s gone, taking all the warmth with him.

You'll make up for lost time one day. It won’t be today. You can tell him all about your feelings when he comes back to you.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[selfishdoll]

❛ YOU SCARED OF ME?...❜

Watch you weigh your powers | Tempt with hours of pleasure  ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒  ♡ SEXTAPE

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  SUMMARY.

you were nothing more than yuji’s english tutor.. one who was always a little distracted by his older brother, kamo choso.

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  CONTENT WARNING.

yuji mention (not sexualized & you better not either), thigh slap, dom choso, ooc choso (ofc), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dumbification, pet names, praise, cervix fucking, etc. if i forgot something please let me know.

ཐིཋྀ  ⊹ 𓈒  NOTE. the way choso is slowly consuming my feed like i love this man. also as always, this fic is unedited so please excuses typos & grammar mistakes.

Glossed lips moved silently to the lyrics running through your airpods to your ears, face pushed against the palm of your hand— lazily scrolling through your instagram. Every so often your eyes would raise away from the screen, glancing out the windows to assure the uber you resided in was still on track. So far everything seemed fine, but you never knew nowadays.

Once satisfied with what you saw, you sunk back into the seat; pressing your lips together for a moment as you glanced at the time. 2:25. Perfect, you were right on schedule. You were about fice minutes away from your student’s house; Itadori Yuji. The poor boy was having such a hard time with English and being the nice upperclassman you were, you helped him.

Though, meeting his fine older brother; Kamo Choso was an added bonus. You two didn’t talk often as he usually came in the middle of your tutoring session, giving his brother a quick hello and you a wave. Other times Choso would offer food, you pleasantly surprised to see something for yourself as well. He was sweet, quiet— but sweet. Given the hopeless romantic you are, you were bound to fall for him.

And fall you did, unable to hold eye contact whenever he simply said hello, or asked how you’re doing. Looking away whenever he would smile or laugh at something his brother said, even sinking into yourself when he was around you; afraid you would melt from even the slightest of touches. You were whipped and you so desperately hoped he didn’t know.

The uber soon slowed infront of the Itadori-Kamo residence, glancing back at you with a friendly smile. You gave one back, “Thank you so much.” Collecting your tote bag and other belongings you opened the car door and exited soon after, closing it behind you. Your eyes trailed over the house noticing the black sleek car sitting the drive way, causing your heart to thump— Choso was home. You took a deep breath, glancing over your attire and secretly thankful you settled for something slightly presentable; a simple black spaghetti strap dress and black, wedge sandals. Though, it shouldn’t matter much— Choso stayed in his room unless he needed something from the kitchen or needed to tell Yuji something.

Walking up the path, you stepped onto the porch and approached the door. You knocked, hand falling to your side to wait patiently. Moments passed before the door opened, revealing Choso clad in his usual attire of sweats and a black shirt, the only thing missing being his adorable hair bones; tresses resting against his shoulders in a messy fashion.

Your cheeks went warm the moment the male smiled at you, “Hey (Y/N), Yuji didn’t tell me you two were studying today.” His tone was so smooth, pleasant to your ears; head tilted just a bit as he not-so secretly took in your appearance.

“Yeah, well— It was a spontaneous decision. He just wanted to get in a little extra studying before a quiz.”

Choso gave a soft chuckle, “Well.. he double booked. He’s at Megumi’s place right now with Nobara too..” He stepped to the side, opening the door wider and tilting his head to the side in a come in motion, “Come, Ill call him.”

You nodded, a nervous smile pulling your features. “Yeah okay.” Stepping through the threshold you made your way over to the living room, sitting on the couch with your knees pulled close. Choso was close behind you, waltzing over to the other side of the long end furniture to sit down, pressing the phone against his ear.

A comfortable silence entered the room for a moment, you perking up the moment Choso began to speak.

“Yuji, (Y/N) is here to tutor you. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.” He hummed, blinking slowly for a moment before shaking his head. “Alright. See you then.” Pulling the device away from his ear he cut the call, placing it off to the side and glancing at you. “He said sorry, he’ll be here in about forty minutes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” You smiled, watching as he gave a simple nod back before his eyes turned to the television. Reaching for the remote, he pressed play, Texas Chainsaw Massacre starting up. You sunk into the cushion to get comfortable, deciding to distract yourself from the man you were pining for, literally cushions away from you. As pathetic as it sounded it was hard, eyes stealing glances to his form every so often; mapping his features.

From the way his eyebrows would raise at a particularly gruesome part, or his lip would quirk at something humorous. Of course you would notice such little things, it would be cute if you didn’t find yourself so creepy.

The man shifted in his seat, hips adjusting as his legs spread just a bit wider across the couch. Oh, if you had known any better he did that on purpose just to mess with you.

You finally tore your gaze away, leaning into the arm rest to pretend you just weren’t eye fucking him. Getting caught was the last thing you wanted to happen.

“The movie scaring you or somethin’?” Was what Choso suddenly said, causing you to jump. Your face turned, spotting the male already staring at you, amusement tainting his expression. You shook your head far too quickly. “No. It’s not scaring me.”

His eyebrows rose a bit, turning back to the movie as his arm stretched out upon the back of the couch. “Must be me you’re scared of then.”

A mixture of a surprised scoff and chuckle escaped you, turning a little to face him. “Scared of you?” The questioned rolled of your tongue in a flabbergasted manner, watching the man give a shrug. You smiled with a small shake of your head, “You’re far too nice to be scared of.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” A certain tone hugged his words, the playful atmosphere dissipating instantly. “Its why you can never look me in the eye when we speak.. why you undress me with your eyes when you think I don’t notice.” Your dirty secrets spilled from his lips as if reading from a book. Your eyes widened, watching as he so casually turned back to the movie.

“You.. knew?”

“Mhm.” Again, so nonchalant, so casual. Oblivious to the inner turmoil inside of you. You nervously thumbed the case of your phone, heart threatening to escape your chest as you softly croaked; “Ar.. are you gonna do something about it?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes.” You answered quickly, finally stealing his gaze away from the movie. He was crossing the cushions in minutes, fingers finding your cheeks to pull you into a kiss. Your lips devoured each other, heat resting between the two of you. Fingers trailed down, clasping around your throat as he deepened the kiss. “Slow down, princess; my lips aren’t going anywhere.” Choso murmured against your own, pushing you into the couch. His tongue pushed through your lips easily, curling around your own pink muscle to slowly suck and play with. The man’s free hand carried to your side, thumb pressing against your plump, covered skin; tracing it every so often.

Moments passed before you two pulled apart, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lips as breaths fanned across each other’s faces. Choso pushed forward, lifting you for a moment before resting you in his lap, leaning you against the arm rest. His hands carried across your form, fingers hooking onto the straps of your dress and tugging it down your body, allowing the top to rest at your waist. To his surprise — and enjoyment — you were braless, his eyes feasting away on the sight of your naked breasts; pretty brown mounds with freckles decorating the skin. Choso reached over, grasping both in his large hands, enjoying the way the warmth covered his palms.

One squeeze and you were breathing softly, eyes closing as he leaned into your neck, pressing kisses against your skin. His thumbs rolled across your areola and slowly hardening nipple, pressing them in and simply toying with them. The light pleasure had your hips moving in his lap, hands rising to curl your pretty pink acrylics into his hair, tugging the moment you felt him bite your collarbone.

The love bites didn’t stop there, leading them to the valley between your breast and then over to your right one, tongue tracing your skin; collecting your hard nipple into his mouth. His hips pressed close against your own, tongue circling the bud— continuing to rub the other. Pleasure traveled between your legs, lips parted as soft breaths escaped you. You gasped the moment he gently bit down, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Choso, please..” You called out to him, enjoying the treatment but needing more. You’ve waited far too long for this and were far too needy to go slow. Except, Choso didn’t give a damn about that. Despite the looming threat of his younger brother walking in at anytime, he intended to take his time with you. Torturing you for the torture you put him through daily.

Dressing in those pretty tops that cupped your breasts so nicely, those dresses that hugged your ass and rolls perfectly, let alone how you acted around him; so sweet and shy, yet your eyes would wander. No.. he was going to explore each part of you, no matter how long it took.

So the moment he shook his head you were whining; attempting to grind in his lap only to gasp the moment his palm struck the inside of your thigh. His hand smoothed to ease the pain, other hand moving back to your neck and gently holding it. “You’ll be good and wait.. I’m not rushing with you.”

The moment you pouted his thumb was rising to push against your lips, leaning just a bit closer. “Or I could just walk away now— leaving you all needy and desperate for me. Would you like that instead?” The man could nearly grin at how fast you shook your head, tracing your lips for a moment before moving the digit away to plant a soft kiss against them. “Thought so. Just sit and wait princess, you’ll get what you want.”

With that his hands were tugging your dress down fully, leaving you in black panties and nothing more. Taking in your form, his hands focused on removing his shirt and tossing it beside your clothes. Choso’s hands found your waist, backing away a bit to pull you to lay on the cushions, spreading your legs so one hung over the edge of the couch and one rested on top of it.

You hissed softly as his thumb pushed against your covered slit, rubbing little circles across your bud. Your nails scratched the couch a little, a damp spot collecting on your panties, his pace quickening for a moment before moving his hand to instead pull your panties to the side; revealing your wet sex to him. Choso licked his lips slowly, reaching over with his other hand to rub your uncovered bud with his thumb, watching your legs widen as the pleasure grew.

This continued until two fingers teased your entrance, coating them in your essence before slowly pushing in. The man hissed softly as your walls clenched around his thick digits, continuing to push until he was knuckle deep. Once inside he wasted no time in scissoring and stretching you out, slow deep thrusts carrying in and out of you.

The pleasure formed in the pit of your stomach, leaning your head back as moans escaped you. It was only his fingers yet they felt so good, deeper than your own. Pushing against your gummy walls, brushing against a spot that caused stars to dance in your eyes. He pressed harder on your clit, your back arching as a swear escaped you. “Choso.. oh fuck—“

“Oh, look at that..” Choso drawled softly, soft squelches entering the room with each push inside and out. “Dripping all over my fingers, making such a mess pretty girl.” He smiled at the whine that escaped you, leaning to kiss against the inside of your thigh, biting the warm skin gently just to feel you twitch.

Your hand lowered, clamping around his wrist, feeling his muscles with each thrust of his fingers. Your lips was caught between your teeth, hips moving as your arousal grew; a band forming in your stomach.

Noticing this, his pace quickened, leaning down to stamp kisses against your skin. “Go on princess, fuck your self on my fingers; make me a mess.” He cooed right into your ear, eating up each moan and gasp that escaped your bruised lips. Pushing and pushing your walls clenched around his digits, coming within seconds.

Praise escaped him, fingers fucking you through your high for a moment before slowing down— soon pulling them out of you. He rose his hand to his face, lapping up your juices all while his eyes trailed over your form. Just from his fingers you were panting heavily, eyes glossy and looking at him as if he painted the moon and stars themselves. That look plus your taste was driving him crazy, having half a brain to dive between your legs in search of more.

Instead his hands fell to his sweats, pushing the baggy fabric down along with his boxers; revealing his hard length. The man pushed close, your eyes gazing down, clenching at the fact he reached your belly button. You breathed when you felt his fingers collect your release, spreading it across his cock to lubricate just a bit.

Once satisfied he was grabbing the base, lining up with your entrance and slowly, pushing in. You whimpered softly, feeling the man lean closer, planting a kiss under your eye. “Relax for me (Y/N)..” Choso breathed softly, hand trailing to your knee to lift onto his shoulder, continuing to push in. You relaxed as best as you could, breathing slowly and glancing up at the man who smiled at you. “That’s it.. good girl. I’m almost there.”

You nodded slowly, eyes pinched closed as his hips continued to push forward, stilling the moment he was fully inside. You felt full, his cock pulsating inside you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. You remained still for a few minutes, smiling at the way Choso continued to kiss any spot he could reach. Soon enough you were fine, hips raising to signal the man above you.

He understood quickly, pulling his hips back so only the tip rested in inside; pushing back in slowly. Choso carefully watched as he delivered more experimental thrusts, searching for any discomfort or unhappiness. When neither presented itself all restraints were lost, thrusts increasing in speed and intensity.

Soon enough his weight was placed behind each, fucking you into the cushions all while mumbling praises right into your ear. From how pretty you split around him to how good you felt— each word melting your brain into mush.

Gasps and moans of his name escaped, nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure intensified. You couldn’t think of anything but him, couldn’t feel anything but his cock driving in and out of you; stirring you up, ruining you.

Choso’s hand found your cheeks, tapping his fingers against your cheek as if to pull you back from ecstasy. The man hissed the moment your pretty glossy eyes focused onto his face, “Yeah, focus here sweetheart.. right here. You feel me, how deep am I?” A rhetorical question, he knew enough you were too fucked out to answer such a thing. Too lost to even realize he was far deeper then he should be. So instead of a coherent answer all Choso got was a high pitched cry of his name;

“Choso..! Mmh—!”

“I know my name sweetheart, I asked how deep I was.” The grin he gave was cocky, removing his hand from your face to instead snatch your own from his shoulder; pressing your palm on your stomach. With each ram inside your messy cunt you felt it against your hand, the man pressing even harder just to hear you scream. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in with each drag of his cock before you shook; creaming all over his length.

Choso breathed at the feeling, looking at where you were connected to spot your mess dripping down his dick, and onto the couch. He would worry about the ruined furniture later; you were top priority at the moment.

His eyes snapped back to your face the moment you began to pant, coming closer all while his hips continued to move. “So fucking pretty (Y/N).. think you can do that again?” Before you could reply Choso was grabbing your arm whilst pulling out of you, turning you on the couch. You braced yourself, hands gripping the armrest as you glanced behind you, spotting the man lining back up with your entrance.

“Choso—!” Your eyes rolled back the moment he thrusted back in, merciless as he fucked you. There was no holding back, rocking your body back and forth between him and the armrest with each thrust. Your nails dug into the furniture, pleasured screams escaping you. His hands were tight on your hips, leaving you with no way to escape.

Legs shaking, sweat settled onto your skin, tired walls clenching around his relentless cock; you were a complete mess. But given how good Choso was fucking you right now— you couldn’t care less.

“Look at that.. fuck—“ Choso gasped out, eyes glued to the way your body shook with each thrust, how your walls clenched around him. His fingers dug into your plump skin, sure to leave marks, reminders of your love making. The man leaned over your withering body, chest flush against your back as he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear all while his arms wrapped tight around your waist. No more words were needed or rather could be spoke as he drilled into you, your combined breathing covering the room, chasing your releases.

You clenched the armrest so much it began to hurt, eyebrows furrowed closed, nearly drawing blood from how hard you were biting your lip. You were so close, so fucking close it began to hurt; the dam breaking the moment he reached down, circling to fingers against your clit. Your back arched, clamping hard as you came harshly, throat raw and voice abused.

Choso was close behind, pushing in deep and stuffing you full, painting your walls white. Your tired body slumped against the couch, legs shaking, attempting to catch your breath. You whimpered as Choso pulled out, feeling him lift and turn your body to rest against his front; smoothing his fingers across your thigh.

The room was silent, simply basking in his warmth and affection, hand trailing to your ass to gently massage. The gentleness was soon interrupted though when Choso’s phone rang, the man reaching over and picking it up.

Your heart sank seeing the contact name, sitting up to glance at the man with worried eyes. Choso’s hand rose to your cheek, accepting the call. “Hey Yuji, you okay?”

“I’ve been trying to call you to tell you I wanted to reschedule with (Y/N), Nobara and I are gonna stay at Megumi’s! Were you busy or something?”

Choso glanced at you for a moment before looking away with a lopsided smirk. “Or something.. Anyways, I’ll tell (Y/N)— try to be better with your schedule next time.”

Yuji gave a small understood before cutting the call, allowing you to smack Choso’s chest with an irritated expression. The man soothed the area, glancing down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What if he had walked in?!” You hissed softly, Choso smirking a little, hands resting on your hips.

“You didn’t seem too concerned about it when you were under me.”

[phantasmiac]

in which touya is your best friend’s older brother

cw/tw: fem!reader, reader is in college, make out scene, nothing else i think

wc: 2.9k

a/n: obsessed with my own au. part two can be found here.

from middle school to high school, you and the two eldest todoroki children had followed the same 8AM-3PM schedule, eating the same assigned lunches and traveling in and out of the same building. but it wasn’t until your second year of high school that they really became aware of your existence, after you and fuyumi began volunteering at the same local daycare center. you vividly recall her flushing a deep shade of red that matched the streaks in her hair when you’d told her you were in the same year, and having to repeatedly assure her that she hadn’t upset you. it was an honest truth; not once had you been put in the same class, and you yourself couldn’t name one person outside of your own — with the exception of the todoroki siblings. it was impossible to be unfamiliar with the two when their popularity was so overwhelming. fuyumi, for her beauty, intelligence, and tenderhearted demeanor, and touya, mostly for his delinquent behavior. there’d been a few fleeting instances over the years where you’d fallen under the same spell as your classmates; the one that glued their eyes to the hot troublemaker just a grade above you. but they were just that — fleeting.

you’re not sure what was contaminating the air inside of the todoroki household the first time you came over; only that it had infected you with a certified school girl crush on your best friends older brother. every interaction with him left your heart flapping it’s dainty little wings. being fuyumi’s best friend, and spending as much time over as you did, granted you access to exclusive perks. “perks” such as the offhand, sarcastic comments you were now susceptible to; ones that weirdly drew you in instead of putting you off. you were able to see him doing things other than smoke on top of the bleachers from the window of your after-school prep classes, or beat up some random upperclassman in the middle of the hallway. watching him play the guitar, obliterate everyone at shogi, and tend to the garden plants was quite the change of scenery. if feeling special was a crime, you were guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, though you’re sure your classmates would too if they’d experienced the feeling of touya peeking at your homework over your shoulder and “obnoxiously” whispering the answer into your ear.

it was just your luck that the very same virus had to go and infect little 13 year old natsuo and make you his target. little natsuo who would stammer and blush and make a complete fool out of himself whenever you were around. little natsuo who once noticed you while playing soccer with shouto and touya in the yard, and got smacked in the face with the ball in the process (you’ll never let him live it down). little natsuo who singlehandedly destroyed your hopes and dreams of ever getting touya to look at you differently. because once the eldest todoroki sibling caught on, he refused to let it go. he’d gone as far as to create a ship name for the two of you, one that even shouto — always craving his big brothers approval — had started using. your eye twitched every time he would refer to you as natsuo’s girlfriend. it went without saying that the whole thing was just one big, running joke. but natsuo’s feelings were real, and you knew touya would rather stick his hand in a blender than break his little brothers heart — that is, if he ever even saw you that way in the first place.

touya graduates at the end of your second year, declaring he’s taking a “gap year” and moves out to live with a friend of his; the shy one you’d met a few times and bonded with over animal crossing once. rei permits it without much of a fuss, grateful that it’s tenko and not one of those “awful influences” he used to hang around at school (though you always suspected tenko had a secret wild side, too). he visits occasionally, still acting like he never left, but his overall absence allows you to finish your final year without the distraction of silly little feelings consuming you. you pride yourself on how well you’ve managed to suppress it all, just to feel like a complete liar on every single one of his visits, when he tugs on your hair and scares you from behind as a greeting like some grade schooler with a crush. by the time touya’s gap year ends, you and fuyumi begin your first semester of college, and rei has grievously accepted that her son is not planning on getting a degree.

a week prior to your winter break, you’re asked out by a guy in one of your gen-ed classes as you’re leaving with fuyumi. although touya doesn’t immediately come to mind, and the guy seems decent enough, you feel compelled to turn him down. it’s fuyumi’s elbow nudging into your back as she attempts to appear busy on her phone that gets a “sure” out of you. that friday, you find yourself sitting at the theaters watching a newly released horror movie next to a guy you haven’t batted an eyelash at other than the one time both you and fuyumi had missed a powerpoint slide. it’s then that touya — who you haven’t seen in nearly three weeks — comes to mind, for two particular reasons: a) because this is the type of thing he’d definitely put on after intruding on your and fuyumi’s movie night and b) because this is kind of a weird first date, but you’re sure it wouldn’t be as bad (or bad at all, for that matter) with him.

the following night, you’re at the todoroki household to help them get things sorted for the winter break trip you’ll be tagging along for. touya has finally reappeared and is uselessly laying in starfish position on fuyumi’s bed as you hand her clothes to fold into her suitcase. he’s rambling on and on about his recent whereabouts and his plans to start a tattoo apprenticeship, to backpack across europe, and to start a band, and a bunch of other things that he’ll probably forget about in a few months. even though half of what he’s saying is nonsense, he sounds so enthusiastic, you can’t help but smile and nod along. fuyumi scolds you to stop encouraging him, which he rolls his eyes at before asking, “anyways, what’s going on with my sister in law?”. natsuo has just recently gotten into his first real relationship with his first real girlfriend, so you’re ready to correct him until —

“nuh-uh! not your sister in law anymore. i mean, unless you count our marriage,” fuyumi intercepts. “she scored herself a boyfriend this week. oh my gosh, i didn’t even ask you how your date went!”

the clothes are long forgotten as fuyumi shakes you violently by the shoulders, and you don’t have time to explain that the date went nowhere before touya is mumbling something about “not wanting to hear this crap” and leaving the room. the next day, touya brings home a girl for the very first time. seeing her makes you realize that you’ve never put much thought into what touya’s type might be like. the girl standing before you is sweet and effortlessly beautiful, able to make a casual outfit look dressy. you don’t question how strange it is that he would choose to introduce her to his family the day before a trip, or the fact that he doesn’t outright call her his girlfriend. you’re much too focused on the way she constantly leans into him, and shamefully flitting your eyes away when he looks up at you like he knows you’re watching. you will yourself not to shed any tears as you lay beside fuyumi that night, thinking about how his absence in the last three weeks must have been because he was spending them all with her.

the car ride to the log cabin you’ll be staying at for the week is spent stuck between the window and shouto, who’s going ham on some game on his ipad (you hate to admit how entertaining it is to watch), and shooting lasers into the back of touya’s head through the gap in the headrest. there’s a few times your eyes meet through the passenger side window, but instead of pulling a face like usual, he looks away. whether your nausea is a result of motion sickness or emotional distress, there’s no telling. by the time you reach the cabin, the moon is out and the stars are littering the sky, offering just a bit of light that peaks through the towering trees and helps with the unloading of the trunk. upon settling in your rooms, rei announces that she’s going straight to bed. you can already hear shouto and natsuo’s voices coming from their own rooms; shouto playing with his little green haired friend and natsuo talking to his girlfriend. fuyumi, always so productive, immediately gets to unpacking her suitcase — an activity you have little interest in.

it was the promise of a hot tub that got you to come on this trip in the first place, and you weren’t going to let the night deter you from your wish. fuyumi insists that tomorrow is promised as you carelessly dig through your luggage for a swimsuit, but you don’t budge. you curse your stubbornness when you head down to the back porch to find the hot tub lit up, bubbling, and occupied. you’re met with the sight of a bare back that’s more built than the last time you’d seen it. touya’s lack of acknowledgment of your presence deceives you into turning your heel for an attempt at a silent escape; a silence that is soon shattered by the sound of swashing water, and then touya’s voice: “i don’t, bite you know.” it’s with reluctance that you turn back to face him. his arms are dangling off the side of the tub, his chin propped at the edge. “i wouldn’t put it past you,” you quip back.

you don’t think the lack of conversation is nearly as awkward for touya as it is for you. he’s been staring at the water, unblinking, for the past five minutes (months, for you), chewing on his lip pensively like something magical might bubble to the surface. your eyes, on the other hand, have been scanning every area of the premises for something that might save you. the woods are pitch black with the exception of the porch lights. maybe you could bring up how scary it is out here? no, you don’t want to come off as a wimp. the skiing plans for tomorrow? no, that’s lame. how about his girlfr —

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

the sudden jolt of your body causes a big splash that manages to hit both you and touya in the face. if he’d lost his mind, the water should have been enough to startle him and set it straight. instead, he wipes a hand down his face and continues to look at you expectantly for your answer. you’re incapable of offering it to him in words; so you wade your way across the tub to where he’s sat, kneeling in front of him as an invitation. perhaps it was silly to assume he was asking for a simple, chaste peck, but the arm that hooks itself around your waist and pulls you forward elicits a gasp out of you nonetheless. but it’s nothing compared to the thrill you feel when both of his arms move to grab your thighs, effectively hoisting you up and getting you to straddle him. not once in any of your fantasies had you imagined being on top of touya, but you think the reality is much more satisfying. it’s hard to say who makes the first move, seeing as you’re both hungry for the same thing. your fingers are digging into touya’s cheeks, and his onto yours in a different area. you’ve been told countless times that your first time making out wouldn’t be a scene out of a movie. but somehow, touya’s lips and tongue guide you in a way that makes you look and feel like you’ve been doing this for years.

it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, excluding the sound of fuyumi’s “oh my god!” ringing in your ear. she’s standing at the slide doors with her hands covering her eyes, nearly tripping over her own feet. instantly, you rip yourself away from her older brother and shoot out of the water, scrambling for an explanation. she shouts something about waiting for you up in the room before nearly colliding face first with the glass doors. you don’t bother to look at touya’s reaction as you exit the tub and quickly snatch a towel, nor at rei, now wide awake and frantically and asking what’s wrong as you zoom up the stairs. you waste no time in profusely apologizing to fuyumi, who’s now laying flat on the bed with her head dug into a pillow. the thought of your friendship coming to an end has your voice shaking and tears forming in your eyes. the sound gets fuyumi to set the pillow aside and smile at you softly.

“i’m not angry. i just wish i hadn’t had to see that with my own two eyes,” she laughs, hands holding yours. “but i am a little confused as to why you’d wanna be with my gross old brother of all people. i thought that other guy was a catch.”

it’s hard to identify whether the sound that leaves you is a sob or a laugh, but you allow yourself fall into fuyumi’s arms in relief. she spends the rest of the night interrogating you, and then singlehandedly planning out your future wedding.

touya actively avoids you for the rest of the trip, opting out of all the planned activities in exchange for staying holed up in his room until hunger strikes and forces him down to the kitchen. you try not to be hurt by his behavior, disregarding it as him being embarrassed at being caught by his little sister. that assumption is proved wrong when he has multiple interactions with her, while acting as if you don’t exist. of course, fuyumi attempts to get an explanation for you, but she always comes back with the same response: “he said he’s not going to talk about it with me”.

on the last day of the trip, you tag along with natsuo and shouto for a day of ice skating, fuyumi staying behind to get a head start on some assignments. it was just yesterday that you’d suddenly remembered the girl touya had brought over, and come to the conclusion that the reason he must have been avoiding you is because he’d cheated, and the guilt was eating him alive. it didn’t matter how hard fuyumi insisted that her brother would never sink so low, and that he’d never said she was his girlfriend. you were now certain you were the other woman, and staying in the house was driving you mad.

the three of you are sat outside the rink, rental skates in hand. you’re focused on tying up your own as shouto makes repeated calls of his brother’s name, each call being ignored and becoming more irritated by the second. natsuo is glued to his phone, typing away and smiling like a fool, shouto’s pokes at his puffer jacket going completely unnoticed.

“jesus, natsu,” you roll your eyes, punching him on the arm with enough force to get his attention. “shouto’s been calling your name for ages.”

“sorry! i’m texting my girlfriend.”

you chuckle as you kneel down to attend to shouto’s neglected skate laces. “you didn’t even have to say. when are you gonna bring her over? you know, like touya.”

the last part definitely could have been left out, and said in a less bitter tone, but it gets natsuo to quirk his eyebrow in confusion. “that girl from last week? i don’t even know why touya brought her over. he complains about her to me all the time. says she has an annoying crush on him,” he mumbles.

the strength required to keep down the grin threatening to form at his revelation is downright shameful, though the satisfaction doesn’t last long. because if touya doesn’t have eyes for someone as stunning as her, where does that place you? you know it’s sneaky of you to take advantage of natsuo’s obliviousness, but with the way things are going with touya, you know he’s the closest you’ll get to some answers.

“that’s too bad. she was really pretty.”

“yeah, well, i don’t think i’ve ever heard touya call anyone pretty.”

“i have,” shouto speaks up from under the confinements of his wool scarf. he winces when you unconsciously tighten his laces a little too hard at his statement.

natsuo looks at him like he’s been shot. if touya was going to gush about someone he was sure it’d be to him. “when? who? where?”

“he didn’t tell me. i just heard him, once, when his friends were over. they were talking about girls and stuff, and they were making fun of him. because he never liked anyone. and then he got all mad and started yelling that he did like someone.”

“when was this?” natsuo probes on, phone now long forgotten.

“his second year, i think. it was before fuyumi met you,” shouto points a gloved hand at you.

high school touya never showed an interest in anyone; it was one of the reasons everyone believed they had a chance. your jealousy has now been replaced with sincere curiosity, an eagerness that reflects natsuo’s.

“do you remember their name?”

shouto nods nonchalantly, completely oblivious to the fact that he has you and natsuo on the edge of your seats.

“i never said anything because i thought it had to be another person with the same name after he started making fun of you and natsu.

but it was your name.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

How would some of the RoR Characters react to Teen!Reader participating in the UA Sports Festival?

Lmao I can imagine Raiden just screaming "KICK THEIR ASS!" during the battle royal part

Return of the wooly sheep reader!

-Your family was so large that they got their own section in the stands and you had been so happy, beaming brightly to see that they had all come to cheer you on for the UA Sport’s Festival.

-Tesla and Beelzebub cheered for you using your quick to easily cross the gorge using physics, Tesla cheering, “That’s my girl!!”

-You had crossed the finish line thirteenth overall, qualifying for the cavalry battle, teaming up with your classmates with you top on top, as you were the smallest.

-Adam had sent glaring daggers to your teammates, all boys, which they felt while some of the others, Shiva, Zeus, and Hades, were telling the boys to not drop you, or else.

-Raiden was the loudest cheering for you as you grappled with a bigger boy than you, locking hands with him, but his cheering got louder when you head butted him, sending him flying off, his headband clenched in your fist, “Did you see that! I taught her that!! Go Y/N!! KICK THEIR ASSES!!! HEADBUTT HIM AGAIN!!”

-Your teammates couldn’t help but laugh at your enthusiastic family, finding them amusing as Brunnhilde called out battle tactics to you, trying to help your team.

-By the end of the calvary battle, your headband had been taken by Deku, but you weren’t really bothered, but your family was, jeering at Deku before you pouted up at them, “You be nice to him!”

-This, however, caused panic in your family, worried that you had affection for the green haired boy, which you assured them wasn’t true.

-Adam put his hand on your head, fluffing up your fluffy hair even more, “So… do you have affection for anyone here?” his eyes were narrowed in a glare, ready to throw hands with a teenager and they all stared shock, some in horror, as you turned, holding your cheeks with a faint blush, “He’s not participating this year, since he’s an upperclassman.”

-Darkness surrounded several of your family members, Adam included, as they heard that you liked someone older than you.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Thank you for your writing.  I love the pieces you write!  Can I request a Honmei gift for Riddle of mint tea, ink in decorative bottles and a strawberry flavored truffle? 

I wait for the end of club activities to catch Riddle returning from the stables, hoping to find a private moment when he is both alone and not busy on Heartslabyul business.  “Ah! Riddle Ryōchō! Um, may I have a moment of your time?”  I shyly hand him the gift.  “I know how busy you are and hope this small gift can, in some way, help you on your way to your goals.  It's mint tea for late night study sessions, since I know Rule 153 says only herbal tea should be drank in the evenings.  I also got a few colors of ink, for you to write your notes with.  The chocolate, well, that one is just for you.  We all deserve a treat sometimes, after all.  I hope I haven’t been a burden to you with my affections, I only wanted to let you know how seen and appreciated you are.”  Having said what I wanted, I sigh a small sigh of relief and give a small polite bow before turning to return to Ramshackle. 

Sweet on You.

Riddle must have just finished a competition of sorts—for when he exited the stables, he was still dressed in his equestrian attire. It was similar in many ways to his dorm uniform, from the white breeches and tall boots to the ruffled collar of his undershirt and the checkered vest over it. He had layered a sleek crimson tailcoat over his attire, the buttons bright and black, and fabric gathered in the back to form a short train behind him.

Riddle had forgone the need for a riding helmet at his skill level, making his red hair easy to spot from several yards away. His cheeks were ruddy, still flushed with the adrenaline of a brisk ride, his brow crowned with a sheen of sweat as he bade farewell to his team members.

(… Unfortunately for him, his farewell didn’t seem to reach them. Silver was falling asleep standing up, despite the feathered friend chirping in his ear. Sebek raised his voice at his upperclassman—though, at your distance, you couldn't quite make out what he was up in arms about.)

Riddle turned and started to make his way across the grassy field, his every stride clipped, yet self-assured. The birdsong and impassioned shouting faded away as he approached your hiding spot.

You swallowed your pride and stepped into his path.

“Ah! Riddle Ryōchō! Um, may I have a moment of your time?” 

He drew to a halt and folded his arms. A corner of his mouth tugged up in mild amusement. "My, it just so happens that you've caught me at an opportune time. You may speak your mind."

You nodded, then bowed your head as you presented various items, each paired with the rationale behind them. “I know how busy you are and hope this small gift can, in some way, help you on your way to your goals.”

You had thought long and hard about your gifts, about him. An herbal beverage for late into the night, ink with which to pen his thoughts, and sweets to enjoy when all the work was said and done… Still he lingered in your mind long after the selections had been made, much like the whisper of roses in the heady springtime.

Finishing, you bashfully slid the tin of mint tea, bottles of ink, and box of strawberry truffles into his arms. He was left laden with presents, proof of your feelings for him.

“I hope I haven’t been a burden to you with my affections, I only wanted to let you know how seen and appreciated you are.”

A sigh, relieved and longing, escaped you. Again, you bowed—then turned on your heel to flee.

Your foot had barely made contact with the ground when Riddle called out to you. His voice cut as clear as a bell, with all the authority of the leader that he was.

"Just a moment."

You looked back.

Riddle’s lips were pinched together, uncertain of the words or the shapes to form next. His large, blue-grey eyes were reminiscent of a storm rolling in against a still blue sky. Serious and contemplative.

“It’s clear that a great deal of thought went into gathering these gifts. You took care to consider the rules of the Queen of Hearts, as well as my busy schedule. As for the chocolates…” He glanced to the side, stifling a cough. “Ah-hem! W-Well… I suppose that an indulgence every now and again would be acceptable.

“That being said, there remains the matter of your language.” Something in his tone hardened, tensing his words into a stern command. “You are not to refer to yourself a burden, is that clear? A burden is a weight added to one’s shoulders. What you’ve done for me is the opposite: bringing aid and respite. Kindness such as this could not be called a burden.”

Riddle’s mouth blossomed into a smile. With his skin damp and flushed with color, he appeared almost like a dew-dotted rose against the glistening sunlight.

“… Those feelings of yours are seen and appreciated—so do not think of yourself as anything less. My heart is capable of being as light as it is no thanks to your efforts.”

[triskhellion]

WIP Wednesday

tagged by @dear-massacre

From that Were Creature Stiles / Beta Derek fic I posted a snippet of a couple months ago and started working on again.

They’d opted for the same sci-fi action-thriller, but Stiles ponied up for the 3D IMAX and the Hales were content with a regular screening starting fifteen minutes after, so they weren’t in the same theater. He wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or disappointed. As luck would have it though, he and Derek ended up going for a bathroom break at nearly the same time, black lined whiskey brown eyes meeting green-hazel in the mirror above the sinks.

“Stilinski.” 

“Hale.”

Stiles was surprised that the upperclassman actually knew who he was. Probably Cora’s doing. 

Derek turned and leaned back against the counter while drying his hands with a paper towel, nostrils flaring and blatantly checking him out. Stiles snorted and turned sideways, shaking his hands and leaving damp spots on his shirt as he crossed his arms and waited for the inevitable question. 

“So, I know this is rude and all, but I just have to ask—“

“Do you, really? Is there a gun to your head?” he snarked.

Derek grinned, tossing the crumpled paper into the bin over his shoulder without looking, and sidled closer. He lowered his voice conspiratorially even though they were the only ones in there.

“What are you?”

Stiles sighed and looked into the werewolf’s eyes, searching for some kind of assurance. It wasn’t forbidden to tell or anything, but he'd never done so before and wasn't certain it was a good idea. If it’d be a whole Thing with the Hales or make the cocky beta before him that he’d been stupidly crushing on run the other way. 

Derek’s face grew serious for a moment. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said emphatically before breaking into a grin again. “Not even if you’re a sweet little rabbit or something. But you’re not a bouncing bunny boy, are you?”

Stiles bared his teeth and showed a hint of fang. “No.”

[rosietrace]

Aw yeah! Valentine’s Day! Could I request some Victoria and Ellis perhaps? Having a little galentines day! God I love these goobers

At your service! ^^ I'll make this valentine's week worth your while!

Theatric evening

Event: Rosie's 2023 valentine's special 💌❣️

Ocs featured: Ellis Clawthorne, Victoria Shard, Zenith Devi(Mentioned), Juvia Yuyi Espejo(Mentioned)

Character(s): Malleus Draconia (Mentioned)

Ship: Victoria x Ellis(Can be interpreted as romantic or platonic)

Summary: Victoria, hospitable as ever, decided that it was best to spend time with Ellis. How? Simple. Going to a cafe that also acts as a theatre/theater.

Warning(s): Victoria wearing a pencil skirt, Ellis being a simp /j, the relationship status between Vic and Ellis is left ambiguous since Vic is canonically heterosexual, potential ooc moments

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

[ Reblogs are recommended/encouraged ]

Ellis flinched at the loud sound Victoria made when she slammed her hand over her desk.

"Ah- Shard-senpai…" Ellis sent her an awkward smile alongside a nervous wave, noticing the odd glint in her upperclassman's eyes.

Victoria hummed, removing her hand from the desk to put it over her hip."Salutations, Ellis." She greeted casually, acting as if she hadn't startled Ellis.

And the whole classroom with her presence, for that matter.

The green-eyed brunette gulped. Why the hell did Victoria Shard randomly barge into the classroom in the middle of professor Crewel's lectures?

"Um- So uh… Do you need something or…?" Ellis allowed her question to trail away, anticipating some sort of response from Victoria.

After a moment of silence, Victoria took a letter out of her skirt's pocket and handed it to Ellis.

A gasp escaped Ellis's lips as she carefully took the letter from Victoria's hands.

"What's this fo-"

"Open it after class."

Ellis's mouth practically zipped itself shut when Victoria talked over her. It didn't help that the faerie in general was intimidating with that ice-cold gaze.

Suddenly, Crewel cleared his throat to coax a reaction out of Victoria. To remind her that she decided to interrupt the middle of his lecture.

Thankfully for Victoria, she was known to be one of Crewel's "favorites". One of his prodigies, if you will.

So her immediate response was to murmur a quick apology, curtsy, and walk out of the classroom. In that order.

Ellis pursed her lips, feeling anxious over what the contents of the letter are. With how confident Victoria seemed to be when she gave it to her, surely it must be something important.

She exhaled, putting the letter into a safer compartment."I'll just open it after class…" she whispered to herself before continuing to listen to Crewel's lecture.

Luckily for Ellis, class ended like a fresh batch of wind.

Naturally, when your upperclassman randomly gives you some sort of letter, you'd be nervous to even open it to see the contents of it.

It took a total of three words of encouragement from Juvia for Ellis to assure herself that opening the letter was okay. Bless Juvia's heart, Ellis thought.

And when she opened the letter? Ellis audibly gasped. Loud enough for the librarian to shush her.

'Meet me at NRC's main street.

Wear whatever you'd like, so long as it's formal. Zen told me that you were feeling down today, so I(Or rather he) took it upon myself to do this for you.

No, I'm not going to kidnap you for ransom, if that's one of the things you're thinking of with this unusually cryptic letter.

Sincerely, Victoria Shard'

Ellis felt a deep blush creep onto her cheeks. Oh my god. This was a date.

But she shook that thought off of her mind. She may have wondered if this was Victoria's way of asking her out on a date, but she had to remember one important thing.

Victoria isn't Malleus. If Malleus wrote something like this, Ellis would probably assume that he was trying to ask her out.

But Malleus wasn't the one who wrote the letter. Victoria was.

So the only thing Ellis had to worry about was what she was going to wear, or where they were going together.

Whatever feelings she has for Victoria didn't matter.

♜♛__________________________________♛♜

Victoria's expression never changed when she caught sight of Ellis. Not that she didn't think she looked presentable.

Ellis wore pink, unsurprisingly. But the dress she was wearing made her seem like some aristocratic noblewoman instead of a girl who transmigrated into a different world.

Victoria sent her a nod. Essentially her way of saying that she looked nice. And Ellis couldn't fight back the blush on her face when she had a closer look at Victoria's outfit.

A white blouse with bishop sleeves, paired with a black vest and pencil skirt reached just above her knees. That and the fishnets with dark red heels made her look ethereal.

Otherworldly, even. Even if the outfit was so simplistic by Victoria's standards.

Ellis smiled, giving Victoria a rose."I'm not sure what you think of roses, but I got this for you."

The steely look in Victoria's eyes softened when she quickly took the roses from Ellis's hands and found a way to attach them to her vest's breast pocket.

"Thank you," she extended her hand."Are you ready to go?"

Ellis tilted her head, her smile slightly more anxious, yet remaining optimistic and curious.

"Yeah."

♜♛__________________________________♛♜

The noblewoman didn't even have to look at Ellis to know that her jaw dropped when they entered the building.

The building itself appeared to be a country club in Shaftlands. Ellis knew that much based on the fact that it was in Shaftlands, and that there were a ton of wealthy people. Victoria included.

It felt even more surreal when she overheard conversations about how many of the people in the building were wealthier than the average millionaire.

"Er…. Why are we here?" Ellis asked, trailing behind Victoria as they made their way around the country club.

It also appeared that Victoria was trying to avoid any conversations with some of the country club members."We're not here to have idle mingling with nobles." Victoria confirmed.

"Then…. Why are we here?"

"For this."

The moment Victoria opened the double doors in front of her, Ellis knew her jaw was below the ground by that point.

It was an incredible sight, really. What appeared to be just a regular theater until you continue to wander and realize that it also acts as a restaurant. And possibly a cafe as well.

Victoria gently took Ellis's hand and took her upstairs to one of the exclusive theater booths.

"I heard from Zen that you have a fondness for theatrics. So, I called the country club, made a reservation here, and we're able to eat inside the theater."

Ellis was a blushing, stammering mess. Of course it was Zen who told her about her being a theater kid!

"U-Um-"

"Well…. If you don't want to do this, we could go somewhere else-"

"No! No, this is fine-" Ellis cut herself off."N-No, this is- More than fine! Fantastic even!"

The bright and genuine smile on Ellis's face was enough to convince Victoria that their words were true. Although it did catch them a bit off guard.

A chuckle left Victoria's lips as she walked to a seat, gently pulling it, and gesturing for Ellis to sit down.

"Shall we dine together?"

The gentleness in Victoria's voice, and the way the light made her look even more stunning than she was before. It drove Ellis mad.

But that didn't matter. She simply giggled, curtsied, and nodded. Walking to the seat Victoria had moved for her.

"We shall!" She exclaimed.

How Victoria saw Ellis didn't matter. Because she'd respect her either way.

If she saw her as something more, then Ellis would be ecstatic to know that her feelings were reciprocated.

And if her feelings weren't, and Victoria loved someone else?

Ellis would be saddened, yes, but she'd also be supportive. And happy for Victoria. Hearing about parts of her childhood from Zen was heartbreaking enough, and she knows the both of them don't want to see her unhappy. Not in the slightest.

So whatever Victoria chooses, Ellis will be happy.

As long as they can both smile at each other in moments like these.

Ones that reminded her of a play.

Taglist: [ I would like to hear your thoughts if possible! ]

@windbornearchon @nem0-nee @authoruio @fumikomiyasaki @sakuramidnight15 @geminiiviolets @oseathepebble @twsted-princess

Request by: @starry-night-rose

Hi Ellis! I hope you enjoy this oneshot! I did my best to make sure the platonic and romantic implications were left ambiguous ^^ I also hope you like the idea of a theater that acts as a restaurant, since that idea randomly popped into my mind while writing this! I had to rewrite the entire thing because of that, but oh well!

[a-k-a-ruenis]

Cynosure

Rating; Teen and +

Fandom; Aldnoah.Zero

Relationship; Slaine Troyard / Kaizuka Inaho

Tags; (trigger warning) Angst, Depression, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, (Past) Attempted Suicide, (Past) Implied / Referenced Child Abuse

Chapter 1/3

Story under the cut!

Alternatively, please click here to read it on my Ao3!

Year One

Inaho is quiet as he stands outside of the music room, one hand on the door and ready to slide it open – he would, if it were not for the music coming from the inside, a soft, small string of notes played on what he thinks might be a violin. It is hard to tell; he has no real interest in music and the instruments used in making it, though he occasionally gets recommendations of what to listen to from Calm and Nina. Truthfully, he rarely gets around to listening to anything; more often than not, he forgets.

The music sounds sort of beautiful. Opening the door would almost surely stop the sound. Whomever is inside will be surprised, and cease playing, but.. Inko asked him to pick up the keyboard as the student council’s extra hand, and it is getting rather late.

Slowly sliding the door open, Inaho murmurs a soft ‘excuse me’, and is about to bow his head when he realises the person inside is the beautiful foreigner with scars on his wrist that people have been talking about.

What had his name been? Students mentioned it briefly in passing, but they have mostly been referring to the new foreigner as ‘Shiro’.

There is visible surprise on ‘Shiro’s’ features, and he slowly lowers his violin. One of his cheeks and part of his chin are flushed a light pink, probably from having to cradle the instrument against his face. “Can I.. help you?” he questions, and Inaho tries not to let his dark eyes linger over the scars adorning the other’s wrists. They are visible amongst the bracelets that seem to be there in an attempt to hide the scars. “You aren’t a member of the music club..” ‘Shiro’ murmurs, and Inaho wonders how quick the decision in allowing him to join was. Talented foreigners are rare to come by.

“I’m just here to pick up the keyboard for the student council,” Inaho assures him, “You can keep playing. I’ll be quiet.”

‘Shiro’ only stares at him for a short moment before going back to doing just that, resuming his playing as if there had been no interruption. Music fills the room once more; it is softer, prettier without the door acting as a hard barrier against the sound. The blond's eyes slowly shut, and the tune seeps into another; it is clear that he is not at all intimidated by another student in the room.

Inaho cannot help but stare, gaze slipping to ‘Shiro’s’ collar. Their high school does not have any real way of telling students apart from which year they are in, but.. Judging from how ‘Shiro’ had addressed him and the fact that he has not seen the blond in the corridor generally used by first years.. it seems safe to say that he is older. There are multiple scars along both of his wrists, some deep, some superficial.. some look as if they are still healing, with medicinal cream spread over them, but no bandages.

I want to ask him why.

Shoving the thought away, Inaho makes his way to the corner of the room, careful not to bump anything. It would be rude to interrupt again, especially if ‘Shiro’ is indeed an upperclassman. He grabs the keyboard’s case and holds it against his chest, glancing around to ensure that its wire is not sitting around somewhere; there are none around, and that hopefully means it is inside the case. He is about to leave when the soft lull of music stops.

“What’s your name?”

Inaho turns back around and finds that ‘Shiro’s’ teal eyes are open. They are only the faintest bit warm, devoid of the usual cheer that people seem to have in them. Instead, they look sad and empty, and Inaho knows that people generally do not look like that. “Kaizuka. Kaizuka Inaho,” he offers quietly, and the blond’s eyes soften. There is a sad pain in them despite the visible softness, a painfully familiar sort of pain.

I don't.. like..

Inaho looks away.

“I'm Slaine Troyard,” Slaine introduces himself, resting his cheek once again on his violin, bow at the ready. “It's nice to meet you, Kaizuka,” he says, and a small, sad smile pulls at his lips, “Please tell the student council that Hanada needs that returned before the end of the day.”

Inaho remains quiet as Slaine’s eyes slip shut again, masking the saddened teal, and those scars on his wrist become a little more visible as Slaine adjusts his hands and arms, fingers resting on the violin’s strings. The posture is elegant. Wildly unfamiliar, but elegant, and like this, he seems the faintest bit at ease, removed from whatever it is that plagues him.

“Oh, and.. please tell Amifumi that I need a tour of the rest of the school, later. I’m free whenever she is,” Slaine continues, and his voice comes out just as soft as the notes he strums, slow again, easing into another gentle, melancholic tune, “Can you do that for me?”

“.. I’ll.. let her know,” Inaho responds, frowning at the way that his heart starts to ache and tug. There is no reason he should feel this way, not when – Not when.. not when I.. have no reason to feel that way, anymore..

It hurts.

“.. please excuse me,” he whispers, quickly letting himself out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

It hurts.

Breathing out, he stares at the floor, trying to remember why that pain in Slaine’s eyes seems so familiar, why it reminds him of –

“Oh,” he whispers, smiling painfully to himself. I remember why, he realises, grip loosening only slightly on the keyboard, its case feels almost hollow, now, as hollow as his heart used to be, He reminds me of how I used to be at the orphanage.

-*-

“.. probably keep my arms covered up, huh? I could probably use makeup, but it would come off in the summer, since it gets so hot and it rains..”

Stopping short of walking past the student council’s room, Inaho finds himself surprised to hear Slaine’s vaguely familiar voice coming from the open door. Taking a few steps backward, he tries to keep himself as quiet as he can, and presses his back to the wall.

Curiosity has gotten the better of him. The foreigner with the scars on his wrists is terribly intriguing, though Inaho does not have the faintest idea of how to go about talking to him, especially considering how sad and pained he had seemed inside. They do not seem to have anything in common, and Slaine is older..

I wouldn’t know what to say to him.

“You’ll be given permission to wear the winter uniform as needed,” Inaho hears Inko say, her voice soft, warm. Something shuffles. Paper, probably. “No one should say anything to you if you want to wear the summer one, it’s still really hot outside.. It’s not often that someone.. erm..”

Slaine shifts. Inaho hears his feet against the floor, gently scraping the wood. “I understand. I’ll wear the winter uniform if the other students are..”

Inaho hears him sigh softly.

“I'm not setting a very good example as a foreign upperclassman, am I?”

Slaine laughs at his own comment. It is a sad sound. Those painful feelings swirling around in his head hit far too close to home; they are a dangerous reminder of Inaho’s own childhood, something he loathes to recall.

“No, you're..” Inko sighs, and Inaho hears her get up from her desk. The chair scrapes against the floor, and footsteps follow. “You're doing fine, Slaine. You'll make friends with the other students just fine. Just.. let me know if you have any issues with any of the teachers or students and they'll be resolved immediately. And remember to bring your parents in for a meeting, okay?”

“Okay,” Slaine agrees. Inaho hears him exhale softly; it sounds more relaxed. “One more question, Amifumi..”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you mind helping me home, again?”

Inaho finds himself only slightly surprised.

As good as his Japanese is, and as polite and natural as his manners come, Slaine is, in the end, a foreigner; being here for a week is nowhere near enough time to get used to transportation.

Inko laughs. It is soft and sheepish, and Inaho can imagine his childhood friend shaking her head. “I'm busy with student council, but I can have one of my friends help you,” she says, apologetic, “Would that be okay?”

“Yes. I'm sorry for imposing, I..”

“It's fine, Slaine. It's the student council's job to help new transfers however possible,” she insists, and Inaho knows that she will not back down. “I have a few friends attending the middle school nearby.. but if they aren't free, I'll have someone from the high school help you get home.”

“In Russia, our middle school ran from years five to nine. Japan's is..?”

“Seven to nine. My friends will be joining us next year as first year high schoolers,” Inko says, and Inaho immediately starts walking away upon hearing her footsteps draw nearer; he does not want to get caught eavesdropping on the new foreigner’s business. There is no telling how upset Slaine might become, how sad those thoughts make him.

“.. schools don't have a twelfth year. It does feel a little weird that I'll technically be attending for an extra year, I would've graduated this year..” Slaine says, voice softer as Inaho rounds the corner.

“Really? I guess you'll be getting an extra year’s worth of preparing for university, then,” Inko teases, and it is light. Slaine draws in a breath, but does not laugh; he must be holding back. “You can go back to club activities for now. I'll have someone wait at the front gate for you, alright?”

“Y.. yes. Thank you, Amifumi.”

*

Inaho is silent as he waits at the school gate, messing with his cellphone. Most of the students have gone home already, with the rare exceptions of those few who choose to either study or spend more time in their clubs, as well as the student council; as the student council’s ‘extra help’.. he sometimes stays as long as Inko does, assisting with any tasks that cannot be completed in time by the other members.

Apparently, Nina and Calm’s class at the middle school are working on and upcoming play, something their class has been wildly excited about since writing a script for it last year. Nina is busy with sewing costumes, and Calm is helping with the creation of small set pieces. Inko insisted that they would have to go and see their friends during their cultural festival, a trip Inaho intends to make.

“Oh..”

Looking up from his cellphone upon hearing the soft gasp, Inaho catches Slaine's teal eyes.

This time, Slaine's eyes are not filled with that painful sadness from before, but they are still significantly different compared to how most of their other peers look. Slaine is dressed in the long sleeved uniform they are supposed to wear around this time, sleeves rolled up and cuffed just as they had been yesterday. It seems the slight chill in the air does not bother him at all.

Slaine’s cheek flush and he shifts before the brunet, quickly glancing around the school gate. “You’re.. my.. escort, for today..? Amifumi’s friend..?” he asks, gripping his violin case a little tighter.

Inaho nods, eyes lingering on Slaine’s face. “Is that alright?”

“Yes! Yes, that's fine, it's just..” Slaine trails off, obviously not having expected to be escorted home by the brunet.

Gaze slipping to Slaine’s case, Inaho’s dark eyes linger over the flowery designs that paint its white plastic. The edges and lining are a light shade of yellow, and it looks quite different compared to the usual dark ones most students use. “That suits you,” he mumbles, raising his head again to meet Slaine's eyes.

“What?” Slaine asks him, cheeks flushing further.

He didn’t hear me.

“You played nicely,” Inaho amends.

That seems to calm him down and push whatever Slaine thinks he may have heard from his head. Smiling, the Slaine relaxes before the brunet. It is a real smile this time, much, much warmer than the one from before. “Just nicely?” he asks, and it is teasing, soft, “I've been practising for years, you know.”

Inaho glances back down toward the case.

It is obvious that Slaine has practised; instruments are reportedly difficult to play, much less play them with any hint of emotion and care that Slaine had put forth.

“Will you play for me, again? As payment for escorting you home?” he questions, and Slaine looks surprised again for a moment before nodding.

This time, Slaine’s gaze slips. “I.. didn’t think you liked it,” he whispers, grip tightening on his violin case. Holding the case closer to himself, he remains staring at the sidewalk, visibly hesitant, now. “You looked.. upset, while I was playing..” he murmurs.

“.. I’m sorry,” Inaho apologises. It had not even occurred to him that he might have looked upset at the time, or that Slaine had even noticed. “It.. it wasn’t because of you,” he says, slow, remembering to be careful with his words, put a bit more thought into them, “I remembered something that.. I’d.. rather forget.”

A smile pulls at Slaine’s lips, this one pained, sheepish this time.

I shouldn't have asked him to do that.

“There.. are many things I’d.. rather forget, too.”

*

Inaho cannot help but stare at Slaine’s wrists as they sit together on the bus.

Now that they are closer like this, the scars are far more detailed. Most of the scars are far darker than his pale skin, deeper, and they look as if they had hurt, greatly. Some of them cross over others, broke the skin again; it looks like they have been mended and cut open again and again –

Freezing up when Slaine looks away from the window, he remains silent as the blond’s teal eyes flicker over his face and then slip to his own wrists.

Pain flickers in those teal eyes. Slaine presses them firm to his violin case, pressing his palms flat against his. “You’re all so curious,” he says softly, managing a small, pained smile, “Is it really that unusual to see? In high school?”

Inaho shakes his head.

It is not. It is painfully common, though most students use makeup, or wear cloth bracelets. That pained look in his eyes is far too painful to meet for too long. Slaine makes a small effort to be happy, but it does not hide the fact that he is slowly breaking.

It is slow.

It is painful.

It is terribly apparent, obvious that Slaine wears his heart and feelings on his sleeve.

“Troya–..” Inaho starts to say.

“Slaine,” the blond cuts him off, “Please.. call me Slaine.”

The use of his last name visibly bothers him; Inaho remembers that Inko has been calling him by his first name. Even in the text she had sent him, she had used his given name rather than his last.

“.. Slaine,” Inaho amends softly, and the other does not meet his eyes again, “Can.. I ask why?”

It is silent again for a moment.

The passing houses cease to blur together as the bus comes to slow stop, separating green and white and blue. The two of them remain seated, still, still until Slaine looks back out the window.

“.. no,” Slaine murmurs. Smiling again, he looks back out the window as the passing houses and lots cease to blur; green and blue and white separate and come to a standstill as the bus comes to a stop.

They remain seated.

“Ask me again when we're friends,” he says softly.

*

“Thank you for helping me home,” Slaine says softly, bowing his head politely, “I’m sorry for making you go out of your way.”

“It’s fine,” Inaho murmurs, genuinely unbothered; Inko has asked him to do favours on her behalf for years now, and it is only natural that he help out when he does not have much to do like the other students. None of the clubs are interesting enough, and he often ends up cooking meals for him and Yuki when she does not order takeout. That, and.. Slaine is interesting. Sad, and painful to think about, but an interesting person. “I live close by,” he adds, and he gestures toward the left, “You can come over in the morning and I’ll walk you to and from school.”

Since he has not actually seen Slaine walking to school, he assumes the blond must get there some other way in the morning, or he leaves at a later time.

“Y.. you will?” Slaine asks, surprise in his eyes, “Really?”

“I don’t see why not,” Inaho says, nodding, “How do you usually get to school?”

“My father drops me off before going to work,” Slaine answers, and Inaho finds himself relieved by the normal admission. Shifting, he sets his violin case down and goes through his pockets, presumably looking for a key. “Do you.. still want me to play for you..?” he asks quietly, pulling a small key out from one of his pockets after a moment, “My father and mother aren’t home, if you’re worried about introducing yourself..”

Inaho hesitates but nods again; he had asked for recompanse after all, and seeing as Slaine is still offering.. It must mean he is calm and well enough to at least play something. “Thank you,” he says, following after the other once Slaine picks up the case again, taking care not to bump into him. “Your home looks similar to mine,” he comments, shutting the door behind himself.

It is newer. The walls are a whitish blue, newly painted, fresh, and the smell still lingers in the air. They look dry enough, at least, and the floor is the same darkly coloured wood as the planks in Inaho’s own home. It is warm inside, a little warmer compared to the slight chill of the outside.

When Slaine removes his shoes, Inaho follows suit, and sets them down to the side of the entryway and against the wall. There is a small chest of drawers here, its top only holding a small potted plant until Slaine places the key beside the flowers. “Please let me know if you want water or anything..” he says, picking up his violin case again, carrying it down the hall with him.

Inaho follows after him, their footsteps almost silent, socks masking the sounds. The halls still smell slightly of paint, but there are photos on it already, dozens of them, and –

“.. Slaine?” he calls, and the blond turns to face him, stopping in the hall, “Are you adopted?”

Slaine follows Inaho’s gaze to one of the photos on the wall.

There is a beautiful woman with dark, dark black hair and bluish-grey eyes standing beside an older man with brownish-red hair and pale violet eyes, and between them, fair haired, pale Slaine.

“Yes,” he says with a smile, another of those warm ones, and when Inaho looks toward him, he sees the happiness on his features, the true, genuine happiness. “That’s Saazbaum and Orlane.. My full name is actually Slaine Saazbaum-Troyard.. but that’s a mouthful, isn’t it?” he asks, smile turning sheepish. Walking back toward the brunet, he looks more closely at the photo, features softening further.

He’s happy with his family, so.. they probably aren’t the reason he’s..

Inaho smiles slightly as he watches the other. “They look kind,” he murmurs, glancing between Slaine and the photo – it looks recent, and quickly glancing over the other ones, it seems Slaine was either adopted around twelve or thirteen, or they simply do not have older photos. “Do they spoil you?” he asks, curious; Inko’s parents sometimes spoiled him and Yuki, still do at times, and Yuki is a firm believer in spoiling Inaho herself whenever she is able.

Slaine flushes, taken off-guard by the question. “Wh.. what?” he questions, frowning now, “Do I.. do I seem spoiled? Father’s kind of strict, but mother lets me do whatever I..”

Inaho remains quiet as the other slowly trails off, flush deepening a shade further upon realisation that he just might be.

Pulling away from the photo, Slaine continues down the hall, the tips of his ears burning a warm red. “I.. don't think that I'm..”

Inaho can barely hear Slaine’s mumbles, they are far too soft with the air conditioner humming throughout the house. “It's okay if you are. Parents should spoil children,” he offers, and Slaine glances at him again, stopping in front of a wooden door. Remaining quiet as Slaine opens the door, he continues to follow after him and looks around the room. It is plain, and there are still moving boxes in the corner. A few of them are opened, but most of them are still taped shut and labelled.

Slaine is still frowning at him when he sits himself down on his bed, setting his school bag down on the floor and his violin case in his lap. “Are you spoiled, Kaizuka?” he asks, resting his hands on the case, and he seems much more at ease now.

“Sometimes,” Inaho admits. “How long have you been in Japan?”

“Ah, um.. a week and a half,” Slaine supplies, glancing behind Inaho at the boxes, “We're.. slow at unpacking.”

I see that, Inaho muses, figuring that the family should be finished in a month or so, once the beginning of the year has settled down. There are a few plants around the room, bigger ones, and there is a small cartoon of cracked eggs at the windowsill, filled with dirt and herbs that smell like mint. “You like plants?”

“The smell is calming,” Slaine murmurs, nodding, “It helps with.. Ah..” Trailing off again, pain flickers across his features.

Inaho glances down towards Slaine's wrists, and the blond immediately presses his hands further against his case, gaze slipping. “Sorry,” he whispers, looking away, “I'll try not to stare.”

“Thank you, um.. You.. you can go ahead and sit down,” Slaine murmurs, gesturing to the chair at his desk, “I'll find a song to play for you..”

*

Why do musicians close their eyes? Inaho wonders as he listens to Slaine play his violin, trying to be as quiet as he possibly can. It is difficult to remain both quiet and stoic; he catches Slaine opening his teal eyes between parts, just long enough to glance at the brunet. Despite the way the music makes his heart ache, he wants to be hard to read as he usually is, not wanting to look upset again and give off the wrong idea.

The music.. sounds sad. Melancholic. Beautiful and pleasant and slow, but it..

Slaine has the violin cradled against his cheek again, posture perfectly straight – playing the violin seems rather strenuous on the arms, and Inaho realises why some performers start to sweat on stage. Playing so many songs, all in a row.. must be quite tiresome. Still, the blond makes it seem almost effortless, easy, but it is clear that all his years of hard work and practise have played their part in this façade.

Inaho is unsure of how long Slaine plays. It seems like quite a long time – the music blends together easily, and he does not think whatever Slaine is playing is more than one song. It does not feel like it. Or sound like it. Perhaps he is playing the same chorus, or a refrain, or a set of notes over and over, or perhaps the song is long, or..

The music stops, again.

Slaine opens his eyes, and Inaho freezes up again, caught off-guard.

Inaho remains still for a few moments more before he starts to clap quietly, unsure of what to do until the other smiles at him, and his hands cease to move.

“You’re.. really sensitive, aren’t you, Kaizuka?” Slaine asks him quietly, reaching over behind him and grabbing a tissue. Cradling the violin in his arm, he holds it out, still smiling gently, “Did you really like my playing that much? You don’t have to cry every time you hear music.”

It is supposed to be teasing. Inaho finds himself accepting the tissue, gripping it tightly in his fist; Slaine’s words are supposed to be teasing, and he does not seem especially pained anymore, but..

“You.. play nicely,” he whispers, repeating what he had said before. That causes Slaine to soften further, a warm gentleness in his eyes. “I.. don’t usually listen to musical performances,” he adds quietly, hoping that the praise does not come off as insincere.

“.. thank you, Kaizuka,” Slaine murmurs, setting the instrument back in its case, taking care to place the violin and bow carefully, gently. “Truly, I.. I’m glad you..”

Inaho listens as Slaine trails off again, unable to finish those thoughts in his head. The worlds are sincere, genuine.

Looking away as he wipes at his eyes, Slaine gestures for Inaho to get up, an embarrassed, sheepish smile on his lips. “I’ll.. um.. walk you home, so..” The words come out awkward now, softer.

Inaho follows as Slaine leaves the bedroom, their footsteps still near silent against the wooden floors.

“Kaizuka.. Th.. thank you, for.. wanting to listen to..” Slaine glances at him when they reach the entryway where their shoes are, and the blond pulls them on clumsily.

Inaho nods, understanding even as the other looks away from him again, still embarrassed, still sheepish. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, pulling his own shoes on, “I’d.. like to listen to you play more.”

Even if it makes my heart ache.

Slaine’s comment from before, the one from the bus – ‘Ask me again when we're friends’.. it had been serious.

“Even though you'll cry?” Slaine asks, and it is teasing again, warm.

Inaho fights back the urge for an ill-thought retort. Obviously, he had not cried, but Slaine must have seen something in his face again; the tissue the blond had given him still remains crumbled in his fist. “.. even though I'll cry,” he murmurs, indulging his upperclassman.

“You can, um.. come and see me, after school, if you’re.. still going to walk me home..” Slaine murmurs, finally able to pull his shoes on, and the tips of his ears are burning.

They peek out from his fluffy hair, just as red as his cheeks, and Inaho realises that Slaine must not be used to interacting with people. Being here for only a week must mean that he has not made any real friends yet, or perhaps the other students are nervous around him, given..

Given..

“Anyway, ah.. I’ll walk you home,” Slaine says, absentmindedly reaching for the handle, “You said it was..”

Before he can open it himself, the door opens from the other side, and the two of them quickly take a few steps backward.

“F.. father. Welcome home,” Slaine stammers, face flushing further.

Inaho is silent as Saazbaum glances between the two of them, visible surprise on his features. Looking away from him, he glances toward the wall again, dark eyes lingering over a few more photos. These ones look like they were taken outside a mansion, a giant one covered in glistening, white snow. They look happy, he thinks again, glad for that.

Slaine gestures to the brunet, “Father, this is.. this is Kaizuka..” It comes out soft, slow, “He, um.. walked me home, and I.. played.. the..”

“The violin,” Inaho supplies, about to check his phone when he realises he has left his school bag, and thus his phone, in Slaine’s bedroom. “I’ll be right back,” he says, removing his shoes once more and excusing himself; he cannot leave without it, especially when Yuki will soon be texting him with what she wants for dinner.

“E-eh?” Slaine stammes, “Kaizuka, wh..”

Saazbaum remains quiet for a moment before quietly repeating, “Kaizuka?”

Nodding, Slaine shifts, rightfully embarrassed now that Inaho has gone and left him to deal with introductions on his own.

“Orlane will be happy you hear you've made a friend,” Saazbaum says, soft, “Especially one who's sister works for law enforcement.”

Slaine tenses up, face going pale. “Law.. enforcement..” he repeats weakly, relaxing just the slightest bit when Saazbaum pats his head. It feels familiar. Calming. “Kaizuka’s.. really nice..”

“All she talked about was him at the department today,” Saazbaum murmurs, “I'm sure you'll get along well with him. She said he's very quiet.” Pulling away, he continues down the hall and turns into the kitchen; Slaine hears the older man set his things and jacket on the table, hears something softly clatter against the wood. “Orlane will be home soon. Make sure you walk Kaizuka home,” he says.

“Of – of course!” Slaine calls back, breathing a sigh of relief when Inaho slowly returns, this time, his school bag on his shoulder. “You’re.. really kind of..” he starts to say, shaking his head and dropping it; Inaho only offers him a small smile as he pulls his shoes back on.

“Sorry,” Inaho says, “You distracted me.”

“Wh.. with my playing the violin? Really?” Slaine questions, flushing again, “It can’t have possibly been..” Stopping when Saazbaum leaves the kitchen with a mug in hand, the blond falls silent when his father gazes at the two of them, pale violet lingering over Inaho.

“Kaizuka,” the man says plainly, a small smile pulling at his lips, “It was nice meeting you.”

Inaho only nods at that, sure Slaine is regretting his decision to engage with him. Stepping outside when Slaine opens the door for the two of them, he bows his head, polite again.

“I’ll.. be walking him home, now..” Slaine says, gesturing down the street, “I’ll be back soon.”

*

It is cooler outside than it had been before. Their walk is nice, Slaine thinks. Brisk. The chill in the air is not too much in his silent opinion, but when he steals glances at Inaho, he can see that the brunet does not seem to handle the cold well. Inaho’s cheeks are flushed slightly and he is walking at a slower pace than he had been before.

Compared to Russia, this is not much at all, but..

“Eccentric,” Inaho suddenly says, coming to a stop. Glancing first at Slaine’s wrists, now covered up with his sleeves pulled down, scarred, pale skin hidden, and then the blond’s face, he clarifies, “That’s what the other students call me. ‘Eccentric’.”

“.. you.. are, a little bit, yes..” Slaine admits, quiet.

Another of those smiles rests on his lips, the bittersweet one.

“But so am I,” he murmurs, clasping his hands together, hiding his covered up wrists.

Inaho falls silent, unsure of what to say.

Interaction like this is not normal; Slaine is not normal, compared to his peers and the others at school, Slaine is quite distinct and wholly unique. Never having had to deal with someone like this before.. he is at a loss. Yuki only said to be kinder. More patient. Gentler.

It is hard, doing any of those things; Inko, Nina and Calm often give him a free pass when it comes to themselves, understanding, but..

Not everyone is as understanding as they are, his thoughts tell him, though it seems Slaine is exactly the correct amount of patient and gentle and kind that Yuki had told him about. Slaine is probably understanding, too. Too understanding.

“.. I want to disappear,” Slaine says quietly.

Not ‘wanted’. Not ‘tried’.

Slaine’s answer is a painful ‘want’ that seems impossible to change, that sadness in his teal eyes looking as if it is not going to disappear anytime soon.

Inaho understands, but does not, at the same time.

Slaine is in pain. Visible, agonising pain. Inaho understands the pain, but he does not understand ‘why’.

“I thought you said you’d tell me when we were friends,” Inaho says softly, unable to think of much else, unwilling to ask him another painful question.

People do not normally answer such questions with such painful honesty. They lie. They always lie; even to friends, and especially to strangers.

“I did,” Slaine says, equally soft.

Smiling, he shifts on the sidewalk, and glances down it, toward the setting sun in the far, far distance. The skies are orange. Yellow. Pink, red, blending with fluffy, fluffy white that seems so far out of reach.

“I think we could be friends, Kaizuka,” he says, and when he looks back toward Inaho, his teal eyes are rimmed with tears.

The break is slow.

Painful.

Visible, with Slaine’s heart on his sleeve – his wrists – for the world to see. There is only the smallest attempt at hiding it, covering it up.

“.. I think so, too,” Inaho returns after a moment, and this time, his heart is a rightful mess of memories that bubble and threaten to spill over even though he had forgotten them long, long ago.

Even though he had tried to forget, long, long ago.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he says, and it comes out far softer than he had intended, softer with his heart in his throat.

Slaine nods and bows his head, polite. Those tears remain in his eyes until he smiles again, until he takes a step backward. “Seven is perfectly fine.”

*

When Slaine returns to his room, he finds a small, ‘You played beautifully’ note on his desk, along with a small orange.

-*-

Inaho shifts in his seat as he thumbs through Slaine's music sheets, unable to make much sense of any of them. They are covered in small notes, written in somewhat messy Japanese, with the musical score labelled in some parts. Glancing up at the blond, he stops on a page with a shorter score, noting the way it is stained in some places, the way the score is warped. “.. I don't think you're weak,” he says, and Slaine lifts his head, taken by surprise.

Slaine stares for a moment. Pressing his wrists firm to his thighs, he manages a soft, “What? Kaizuka?”

“I don't think you're weak,” Inaho repeats, quieter this time. Something flickers in Slaine’s eyes – pain, and then confusion, and then they narrow and fill with tears. I shouldn’t have said that.

Slaine looks away from him, then, lightly digging his nails into his pants.

Better them than his palms, Inaho thinks, setting the folder down; Slaine was kind to try and show it to him, but he unfortunately cannot understand much at all. Perhaps if he had something like a piano to try and play the notes, it might make much sense.. The piano seems the easiest, and some of the keyboards around here are labelled. “Will you show me how to read music?” he asks, realising that it may not bode well to upset him. “On the piano. Can you play it?” he asks slowly, taking care to clarify.

“I.. I can show you how to read music with it, but the sheets are a little different..” Slaine says, slow, still shaken by the earlier comment. Grabbing the folder, he pulls a sheet out. “For violin.. there's only one stave, the lines the music is written in.. and for piano, there's usually at least two, but there can be more..”

Inaho watches as Slaine points at the sheet, toward the lines marked with what seems to be a fancy letter. Some of the notes are by themselves, and a few of them are connected; there are markings near them as well, small slopes, thick lines..

“.. piano is more complicated, because you play different tunes with both of your hands,” Slaine continues, in that same quiet tone, “I can find something easy for you to play. I think Hanada keeps some of her sheets for new members around, we have things for beginners.” He gets up and rifles around the piano, going through the folders until he settles on some piece, and gestures for Inaho to come over.

The two of them sit beside each other on the bench.

“Why did you say I'm not weak?” Slaine asks as he sets the sheet down into the small gap.

Inaho looks over the sheet. It does look much simpler in comparison to what Slaine plays, but it still seems odd to him. There are not as many connected notes, and they all seem to be close in height. The notes repeat halfway. Shifting beside the other, he murmurs, “I know what some people say about..”

Again, Slaine presses his wrists firm and flat against his legs. The scars are harder to see, like that – none of them loop around, none of them are long enough to do so. For the most part, the scars are short and they seem to have been done quickly.

That does not lessen the pain. It must have been searing.

“.. you're.. not weak, or a coward,” Inaho continues, and Slaine looks away from him this time, exhaling softly.

It is uneven. Shaky.

“I know I’m not,” Slaine whispers, “I know I..”

Inaho has heard what people say.

‘The easy way out’.

‘A coward’s death’.

‘Selfish’.

More hurtful words for people who have already been hurt and are still, in most cases, still hurting. It is unfair. They are unfair.

The club room is silent. The air conditioner hums in the room, low.

It is always silent when Slaine is not playing, which does not happen often; Inaho has taken to coming to see him once the other members have left, and Slaine is more than happy to play the whole time until he is ready to go home.

Inaho remains silent for just a moment more before gesturing to the music sheet. “Tell me how to read this,” he says, and Slaine glances toward him, teal eyes hesitant.

It has been a few months.

The two of them have become somewhat more comfortable around one another. Inaho remains terribly blunt and makes little effort to hide his curiosity, asking Slaine questions.

Slaine has had to put up with odd, random gifts of scented lotions and creams, most of which do not affect his skin tone and do not hide the scars on his wrists. While he appreciates the strange acts of generosity, he has no idea why Inaho has been giving him such things.

Shifting in his seat, Slaine takes care not to bump into the brunet at his side. This piano is meant for either one or two people to play at the same time, but the bench is not that big. “This scale.. goes from ‘A’ to ‘G’,” he starts, soft, “The white spaces on the sheet are, in order bottom to up, ‘F’, ‘A’, ‘C’, and ‘E’. Any notes in the white spaces are one of those, and any notes on the actual line are the rest of the letters, plus another ‘F’. F is the only one repeated twice, and it goes back to A after G and repeats.”

Inaho nods at the explanation, able to follow along. Without an example, the words would sound odd, but they are easy to apply to the paper before him. Presumably, Slaine is dummying it down for him in the best way that he can.

“.. and this is A, on the piano. It's always between the last two black keys in the group of three. So you can go forward or backward and figure out which notes are which,” Slaine says, gently tapping said key. It is a white key, and his nail is quiet against it; he does not press it hard enough to play its corresponding note.

“Do the black keys have notes?”

“The one to the right of A is ‘A sharp’, and the one to the left is ‘A flat’, or ‘G sharp’,” Slaine says, “Beginners won't need those keys. You'll just be using the white ones.”

Pausing for a moment, he glances between Inaho and the music sheet. Slaine's gaze slips to the piano, lingering over the keys. He shifts again. “That – that wasn't difficult to understand, was it? I'm not the one.. usually explaining..”

“It's fine. I understand,” Inaho says as he shakes his head. Slaine's finger is still on the A key. “Play it for me,” he says, and Slaine raises his head, surprise in his eyes.

“Wh.. You asked me to..”

“I didn't say I wanted to play,” Inaho says quietly, a small smile pulling on his lips. “I said I wanted you to show me how to read music. You wanted me to play,” he points out, and the blond's pale cheeks flush.

“That.. that isn't..”

“I'll play if you show me how like the foreigners overseas teach their partners how to play golf,” Inaho says, watching as Slaine flushes further, gaze slipping.

It is so easy to fluster him, and it is worth it each time. The more flustered he gets, the harder it is to come up with a proper retort; Inaho often has to buy him juice or milk from the vending machine to get his temperature back down.

“S.. seriously, Kaizuka..?” Slaine stammers, glancing again between Inaho and the piano. “.. fine, then,” he says quietly.

Inaho freezes up when the other takes his hand, not having expected Slaine to actually go along with one of his more ridiculous ‘demands’. Usually, Slaine just wants to play and talk, they have yet to hang out together like Inaho usually does with Inko and the others.

“You hold your hand like this,” Slaine says, forcing Inaho's hand into a small curve, “Your hand and fingers don't go flat on the keys. They're always cupped like this, and each finger is on a different key.”

It sort of looks like he could be holding onto something with the way his hand is, or like there could be something under his wrists. A cushion would be nice, for this position; it is seems mildly similar to typing on a laptop with a proper wrist cushion.

Inaho remains quiet as Slaine continues to adjust his hand and fingers, ensuring they are in the proper position.

The touch is gentle.

It seems like Slaine usually is, but Slaine does not seem to be as gentle with himself than he is with others. Inaho can only guess why that may be.

“.. like this. You keep your hand in this position as you play,” Slaine murmurs, repeating himself to ensure it sticks. Pulling away after a moment, he takes the gentleness with him.

It lingers, unfamiliar; it feels sort of odd, being handled so gently. Inaho is unused to it.

The air in the music room is light, easy. Gentle. Slaine lacks that sadness in his eyes, the pain; he seems far more at ease than he usually is, probably due to the amount of focus it takes to teach something completely new.

Inaho glances at the music sheet.

It does not look that difficult.

The first blank space is an F, which means the note on the line right above it is a G. The next note is A.. and after that..

Pressing the keys slowly, Inaho continuously glances between the piano and the sheet – the notes come out soft as they linger and hang in the air, staggered. They do not flow as they should, do not sound as effortless as Slaine makes them sound.

Slaine is silent beside him, listening.

The song is vaguely familiar. It is difficult to place. The sheet is not labelled; it is covered in tape and notes, written in several different kinds of handwriting.

It is easy enough to remember the tunes and feeling of the songs that Slaine plays for him, but the titles elude him; they are always in English or German or French, and some of them are difficult to catch.

“.. I could play the piano at your recitals,” Inaho offers, not at all serious, nor does he think Slaine needs any help at all with any background noise or additional instruments. Other people with actual musical knowledge may think differently, but..

Slaine’s breath catches beside him.

It is soft.

Bringing a hand to his lips, Slaine tries to hold in a laugh, hide a smile. The upperclassman shifts, and Inaho finds it difficult to remain focused and playing.

Beneath that sadness and pain, there is a genuine sort of warmth, a pure kindness. It is obvious that it is there; he really does seem to care for people, and is generally well liked by the other students, but..

They worry about him.

Inaho worries, too.

The laughter calms, and Slaine glances toward him. “You’d.. you’d never be able to play at my recitals,” he tells the brunet, quiet, patient, between quiet stifles of amused laughter.

Inaho’s hand slips from the piano mid-key, the sound trailing off in the air. Slaine has not laughed before, not happily. “Why not?” he asks softly, genuinely curious.

Slaine shifts beside the brunet, still trying to hide that small smile. It is not working out that well; Inaho can see it pulling at his lips, warm. “You wouldn't enjoy it,” he says, removing the sheet from its stand and stuffing it back into the folder.

At a glance, the rest of the sheets are also covered in notes and tape, their titles hidden as well. Inaho is unsure of why; perhaps the music club uses it as homework of sorts, for their members.

“Why?” Inaho repeats; the tone Slaine is using indicates he means it in an unkind way.

Slaine slides the folder back into the small indent on the piano, and he glances toward the brunet again, allowing himself that small, warm smile. “Because you wouldn’t be able to pay attention to my playing. You’d have to remember the notes, and pay attention to the keys..” he says, and Inaho frowns at that.

“You’re right,” the brunet murmurs, “I wouldn’t enjoy that.”

The two of them go quiet, again.

It is a nicer silence.

It lasts only a moment.

“Why did you tell me that I'm not weak?”

Inaho freezes up, heart catching in his throat.

Earlier, that had seemed like a very, very wrong thing to say. It had come out without him thinking about it; it is not the kind of thing to tell someone as depressed as Slaine is.

“Because you aren't,” he says, hoping to keep this as simple as possible.

Slaine gazes at him, teal eyes still warm, that smile on his lips still patient. “I know I’m not,” he repeats to the brunet, softer this time.

Inaho shifts beside him. “.. it isn’t my place to sa–..”

“Kaizuka,” Slaine urges, calm, “Say it. Go ahead.”

It is not forced. It is not a façade.

The blond is truly interested in whatever it is that had made Inaho say what he had inadvertently blurted out earlier. No doubt this curiosity stems slightly from the fact that they have not known each other for all that long, have not become all too familiar and close with one another.

Inaho breathes in. It feels like a hard ball in his throat. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself anymore,” he tells Slaine, and the honest comment tastes foul on his tongue.

It is not his place to meddle.

No matter Inaho’s feelings regarding the matter, it is not his place.

“Really?”

Inaho raises his head to look at the other, seeing genuine surprise in Slaine’s eyes.

“You.. really don’t.. want me to..” Something flickers across Slaine’s features, and he looks away after a moment, cheeks flushing red. Biting on his lip, he digs his nails into his palms and then breathes out, forcing his hands flat on his lap. “Even though we only just met, you.. really..”

Words are lost on Inaho.

“.. you know that.. no matter how much you care for someone.. some illnesses won't ever go away.. don't you?” Slaine asks him.

Their eyes do not meet. Slaine's gaze remains squarely on the piano, unable to look away from it.

“I know,” Inaho assures him, “It takes the proper mediation and determination, and even then.. It's just..”

I know what it feels like to hurt like that.

Slaine turns his hands over after a few heavy moments of silence, gently rubbing his thumb along one of the scars along his wrist. “.. thank you, Kaizuka,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“Believing in me. And supporting me,” Slaine murmurs, smiling.

It is genuine, this time. Warm. Sincere. A little bittersweet, but that cannot be helped, not yet.

“The lotion,” he says, and Inaho tenses up, “I didn't understand why you were giving me so much of it.. It's so that the smell calms me down, isn't it?”

They have mostly been smells attributed to help with anxiety and depression; things like lavender, honey, chamomile..

“Do you want me to stop?”

Slaine raises his gaze, shaking his head. That small smile remains, gentle, warm. “No,” he says, “They help.”

Inaho nods, relieved that the upperclassman had not found the gifts to be odd, happy that he has been using all of them for the most part. If Slaine had found them odd, he might have thrown them away, or been put off. “Play me another song?” he asks, shifting the subject.

“On the violin?”

“It’s better than the piano.”

[vitaegratis]

His bark was worse than his bite, that was no secret at this point. He embraced the ‘freak’ label, initially out of spite - it he also realized he could use it to his advantage. It was just projection, making himself seem larger than life. He was ‘real’ and ‘genuine’ when he was with Chrissy, and now the group. Everyone else? He was mean, scary. He played that up, because it was fun to get a rise out of people… and because people didn’t mess with him. Left him, and his friends, alone.

Even with his friends, though? How genuine was he? Rarely as irreverent as he presented himself. The Hellfire kids - they had thought he was someone to aspire to be like.That if they got in good with him, he’d look out for them. He wasn’t a cool upperclassman, though. Not by a long shot. He had no friends his own age because they had all moved on, so he reveled in the adulation of the ignorant. He certainly wasn’t some great protector, either. Intimidating? Maybe, but could he back it up? Even before all this, he wasn’t brave. He was a loser. A fuck up.

Billy… he had been through a lot. Some of it, Eddie knew about. A lot of it, he didn’t. He didn’t need to, really, it wasn’t his business. He didn’t need to know why Billy was the way he was… tough, strong. Prickly. It was about survival, right? Protecting himself? He was strong, and he was tough, but he had to be. Cause the things he had been through were horrifying. Traumatizing. Eddie didn’t want to dismiss that, doubt it, or bring it up… but in spite of it all? Billy was more than what happened to him, and he still seemed so… self-assured.

“I consider myself a professional bullshitter. You? You’re authentic. Whether people like it or not, you’re true to yourself. I try to be. I’m all ‘fuck what people think! Embrace your inner freak…!’, but in a lot of ways - it feels like my life is one big performance. Or con. After all, I’m a Munson…”

@vitaegratis asked: “Can I ask you something? If it’s too personal, you can tell me to piss off.”

.·:*¨ ✘♚✘ ¨*:·.  Lifting his head from where Billy was lighting a cigarette, he regarded Eddie with a raised eyebrow. Blue eyes steady on the man, he took a drag and exhaled, the smoke blowing between them. Not many people were brave enough to ask him personal questions, but after everything they'd been through and survived, he figured he could throw the guy a bone. Plus, he was way too curious about what Eddie was going to say to tell him to piss off.

"Shoot," he said, his deadpan expression set.

[bubbledumbbinch]

Kinktober 2021 - Tickling

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x GN! Reader

Prompt: Tickling

A/N: This piece of writing is strictly 18+. NSFW. Minors DNI.

Warnings: yandere, dubcon/noncon, mild angst(?), jealousy

Your muffled moans struggled to come out. Bounds restrained your arms and legs as you felt like you were being tortured. Well, because you were.

It had all started back when Lilia Vanrouge, your upperclassman from Diasomnia, had taken a liking to you. That's definitely what he would call it, not an obsession. Lilia's infatuation started when he was able to get closer to you and meet you during the time preparing for the Magical Shift tournament. His magenta eyes shifted with wonder as he watched you try to solve who was causing issues for multiple players across the school. Since then, Lilia had taken a secret liking to you.

Recently, Lilia had spent more time trying to court you, sending small gifts and talking with you more. Retelling his memories from the fae war was one of his favorite pastimes. He could feel the excitement radiate off of your body and your eyes were so cute. "Wow, Lilia-senpai! Sounds like you were really tough back then, that's so cool!"  Your voice repeats in his mind, sending sparks to his heart. Flashing you a sharp toothy smile whenever you made him laugh, looking at you with large, almost expectant, eyes. To say the fae was entranced with you was an understatement. He felt like he was so very close to asking you to become his partner.

That was until he noticed you embrace his fellow club-mate, Cater. A smile was visible on Lilia's face as his heart wrenched. He approached you as usual, brightly exclaiming your name. You turned to face him, still smiling after your interaction with Cater, who had already left.

"Oh, Lilia-senpai! Hi!" you giggled as the bicolored hair boy was close. "How are you doing?"

"Hi (y/n)! Ah, I was just wondering if we were still going to my room later to hang out." His voice was cheerful, but carried a bit of tension, which you had yet to notice. "I thought we could go into another… history lesson?"

Your eyes lit up at the idea, excited to hear another one of Lilia's stories. "I would love to! I'm finished with everything, so let's go now!"

"Mm, I love your enthusiasm (y/n)." Magenta eyes turned dark as he took your hand and led you to Diasomnia.

Lilia's room was cozy and familiar. You sat with him on the side of his bed as he joined you.

"Hm, I think it would be interesting to discuss how we… interrogated our enemies." Lilia's voice trailed off, maybe in a way where he was thinking of the past.

"Oh, like… torture..?" You asked, unsteady. He turned to you, his smile back on his face. "Yes! And if it's okay, I'd like to show you, with a demonstration."

You were confused, yet intrigued. "I- okay," you started hesitantly. "Is it gonna hurt?"

The fear in your voice only made Lilia's heart soar. You were so cute and you were all his. "No, my dear, I assure you it won't. If anything you might like it..!" He giggled as he shook his head.

Your eyes scanned the floor, searching for words. Eventually, you returned his gaze. Y'know what? Sure, show me, Lilia-senpai!"

"Heh, I knew you'd do this for me~"

~~~

Your arms were tied to the upper corners of his bedpost with your legs free. Your jacket had been placed neatly on his chair. A cloth was stuffed into your mouth. It all felt so… weird for some reason, even though you already verbally agreed. Trusting Lilia should have been enough, though, he had been so nice to you. There was nothing to fear.

Suddenly, as you felt the sides of your shirt lift, you couldn't help the surprised whimper that fell from your mouth. His cold fingers descend onto your exposed sides, causing you to start giggling in joy. "MMPh!!!" your core was contracting with the laughs that wracked your body.

"Aah, my sweet (y/n), your laughs are so precious. I want to hear more!" Lilia's eyes grew darker as his grin extended. He crawled on top of you, sitting on top of your crotch. His cold fingers tickled the sides of your body once more. He reveled in the way you writhed under him.

"Nnnh!! hh- hmm, MMH!!!!" You did your best to shake your head and kick your legs, signalling you wanted him to stop.

"Oh, you want me to stop?" Lilia questioned innocently, turning his head to the side. You nodded profusely, sighing in relief when he finally did.

"What were you doing with Cater?" it came out as more of a demand rather than a question. His tone automatically brought sweat to your face. In the confusion, you could only manage to say a measly "huh?"

"(Y/n). I saw him touch you, earlier. He likes you doesn't he?" Lilia's smile was slight, still there, but small. And his eyes seemed like they looked in yours, but were almost looking beyond you.

"How about this, I'll remove the cloth so you can talk to me." As soon as it was removed, you breathed in and out rapidly, gasping for air.

"I- Lilia-senpai, Cay-kun and I are just friends…" You said, gulping. Yet, his expression hadn't changed.

"And, even if he did hug me, I didn't do anything wrong! You and I are just friends too, so you shouldn't question if other people like me or not…"

Wrong answer. Lilia's smile faded and he seemed visibly upset, crossing his arms.

"Hm." Was the only noise he released as you felt the tickling begin at your sides again.

However, his eyes were still trained on you, and his arms still crossed. Looking down, you saw green feathers moving on their own, tickling up and down your sides. You laughed - laughed until it really started to hurt. There was pain in your abdomen that only worsened over time. Your kicking legs suddenly felt as if they were bound in place, probably also due to Lilia's magic.

"Ah, aahn- Lilia-senpai, s-stop!! Please!!" You cried, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Hm, let's amp this up, no?" Lilia brought his hand to his mouth, smiling deviously.

Lilia's weight was lifted off of your body along with the torturous ministrations the feathers wreaked on you.

Chest heaving up and down, you felt as if your body was too tired to do anything. However, as soon as you felt your pants being unbuttoned and undone, you spared some energy to lift your head.

Lilia's fingers dragged your pants down to your knees, chuckling once he saw the arousal in your underwear.

"Aah, my sweet (y/n), I guess you don't really hate this, no?" He teased, bringing a finger to swipe at your clothed crotch. “Hmm, you’re so wet for me!”

"Oh!!" You turned away from Lilia, embarrassed about your own situation. "Lilia-senpaaai~, please, haanh, stop…!" You moaned, finger still rubbing at your arousal.

Again, the feathers started to torture you. The tickling brought pain and tension back into your body. Your screams molded into moans, heat coming straight to your cheeks as Lilia's fingers were still stroking you through the thin cloth.

"Hm, I'll think about it! How's this, I'll stop once you tell me you love me. You'll be my sweet (y/n) and I'll be your boyfriend!" Lilia's eyes shone, staring into yours. Goosebumps littered your skin as you heard his words.

"Ah, wh-what!? N-no..!" You protested, still writhing underneath him.

"Tsk, I guess you've chosen this then…" The speed of Lilia's fingers quickened their pace, ultimately slipping under the waistband of your underwear, stroking you directly.

"Oh- ah, oh fuck… " You couldn't help but let a curse slip from your mouth. "Lilia-senpaiii~ don't… stop…" You close your eyes in shame, as the sensation of Lilia's fingers invaded your senses.

"My sweet (y/n), oh my darling." Lilia coos, "It seems like you really like your punishment, don't you?" His tone teased you.

"Haah, fuck, I- I love it, so- aanh~ much..!" your babbling only grew as your climax approached rapidly.

Your moans only grew louder as you felt the feathers now tickling your pert nipples.

"Lilia, Lilia, haanh, Lilia-senpai!!!" You repeated his name like a mantra, breathing and growing more and more erratic.

Your moans were making the fae's cock twitch in his pants, yet he held himself back. He wanted to really take you when you were lovers. But that would be soon enough, wouldn't it?

"(Y/n), am I making you feel good?" Lilia's voice drew out. His voice was deep with lust and only sent tingles throughout your body.

"Y-yes, fuck! Lilia-senpai, I love- mmh, it feels so gooood~" you moaned, eyebrows furrowing together. You felt sinful, in pain and yet also pleasure. The tickling was stimulating your nipples while Lilia's fingers kept going faster.

"Lilia-senpai~ I- I'm gonna cum…" you turned into his pillow, muffling your moans. Drool was spilling from your mouth and you didn't even realize it. "Please, Lilia-senpai, make me cum!! I love it!! I- I love you, Lilia-senpai!!" you screamed, teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

Lilia moaned with you, absolutely loving your drunken confession. "Yes, my love, my (y/n)!" Lilia groaned. "Cum for me, my darling. Then we will be bound together!" His fingers stroked you with fervor, feathers teasing your body even more.

You reached your orgasm, screaming as liquid spurted out of you. As you rode your high, Lilia's fingers slowed. The feathers' torture on your body also ceased, leaving you to breathe heavily. Your arms were unbound, and you didn't even realize you were shivering from head to toe. Even with the freedom to move you couldn't.

Lilia's lithe body found its way to slump next to yours, arms wrapping around your form and pulling you close.

"I love you, (y/n). You're mine, now." Lilia's voice whispered softly into your ear.

[huicitawrites]

Hi I just discovered your page!! Is it okay if I can request a Yandere Josuke x Reader 😔👉👈 I love Josuke so much ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪♡

Yandere! Josuke x Reader

"My darling only"

warning: yandere themes

Higashikata Josuke is an ordinary boy from Morio Highschool; handsome, friendly, loyal and adores to play videogames.

He's your bestfriend.

You've known Josuke for years now, ever since primary school. You know which videogames he likes and which you kick his ass at, and you know just how cranky he can get if he has a bad hair day or, how quick he can switch from his bubbly self to a complete, intimidating man if someone makes fun of his hair- luckily most now know not to mess around with that.

Or with you, for the matter.

Ever since you were in first grade, Josuke had your back. Be it with witty remarks against airheaded classmates which attempted to humialite or later on, as you matured and gained, well, features, how he shooed away seniors with a simple glare.

Thus, you have not come to know solitude. The extravagant styled boy has always made sure to steal a smile from your lips or make you laugh, and if you needed- provide a shoulder to hug you or a warm, comforting hug to sink into.

Indeed, you are nothing but grateful for his support. He assured you countless of times, you owe him nothing.

He does this out of his own devotion, purely from the bottom of his heart.

Josuke Higashikata is in love with you, but you're so, so naive! It frustrates him, sometimes, how he has countless of times attempted to take you out on a date at the arcade, which you passed as a simple friends' night. Or how when you two watch movies together, you shamelessly cuddle against his chest or shoulder, unaware of the way you speed up his heart!

However Josuke is not angry, he understands. Everything in due time; at the last year of highschool he plans to take you as his prom-sweetheart, and then, after graduating he will ask you out- if you two have not formally begun to do so before. He will definately go to the same college as yours, if you want to attend, and he will get to share you rooms with you. Then, he will get a really, good paying which will be able to mantain you, and a pet perhaps- and a couple of years will go by, in which he will marry and where you two will live happily ever after! Such a dream.

Then again, everything in due time.

The Higashikata boy is fine and cool as long as everyone keeps their hands off of you. He does not intend to let anyone get in his way to you, the dark haired boy has dealt with people as such in the past -some annoying seniors with disgusting intentions surely-, and Josuke does not mind making the limits known again.

For example, as he is currently stating to Hamada Takeshi, the little bitch from third year.

He found him with expertise at the end of the school's backyard, after stealing borrowing it from your locker with the help of Crazy Diamond, his stand- which was as pissed of as him by the contents of the confession letter. The heart shaped stickers and its sweet scent only fueled the rage within them, providing more reasons to crumple the letter between Josuke's strong hands.

The sound of incoming foot steps alerted the hopeful bruenette, he had been waiting- fearful that you'd reject him. Everything with you seemed to go so smooth, he had talked to you in [favourite subject club] and in art class as well for a little while by now, he had managed to catch you in a few conversations and even heard you giggle. Moreover, Takeshi sat with you at lunch, not once but twice! Yet in the midst of the boy's innocent, harmless to all-but-one crush, he failed to notice the glare of Josuke.

And now Takeshi stood in the predicament, as he turned around with excitement over the sound of footsteps, but it died quickly as he saw the face of his male upperclassman.

"Ah...Higashikata-sempai, it's you." the bruenette sighed, a bit of his self-confidence dropping as overthinking festered on his mind. 'Did they send him to talk in their stead? Everything seemed to be going so well...'

Josuke stood quiet, hands tucked in his uniform's pocket. A cold and sharp glare, as sturdy steel, took over his shining blue eyes- now glimmering with something else.

Something which made Takeshi uneasy and made his legs shake.

Something laced with ill-intentions, obscured and twisted.

The menacing aura surrounding him and his tall figure did not calm down the third-year boy.

"Umm... By any chance have you seen [last name]-sempai around? I-I left a letter... for them! And... Well, I wanted to talk to them about a couple things a-"

"Talk to them about what?" the fourth year spat the last word with venom, his figure nearing the trembling boy.

"Oh! Well, um, it's a b-bit private really" Josuke kept walking forwards, step by step, as the bruenette cowered back until his back bumped against the school's fence.

"Listen hear, bitch," his arm shoot towards the poor boy's neck, grasping it just enough for him to panic and kick his feet in a silly, funny attempt to get away.

"I don't want you anywhere near them, got it? I won't repeat it once more, so pay attention with that little brain of yours." Josuke grasped a tighter, choking Takeshi who opened his mouth to gasp desperately for air.

"There won't be any second chances, so do not make me waste your pathetic little life." his voice dropped octaves lower, a whisper filled with dread. The hamada boy shook his head up and down, tears spurting from the corners of his eyes.

"Do not scream," he warned when he dropped the boy which could once again inhale sweet, sweet air ", And do not tell anyone about this, or them for the matter. If I ever get wind of it, you will regret ever writing that letter or attending this highscool. Who knows? Maybe your life itself." Josuke's chuckle made his heart stop, unlike your giggle which made the cowering boy's heart race.

The boy picked himself up, quickly, and ran away as the smirk in Josuke's face grew.

...

"Say, Josuke-kun, isn't Hamada-san acting a bit weird?" You eyed your underclassman with inquiry, trying to meet his eyes which seemed to avoid yours.

Just by last week you and Takeshi seemed to be getting to know each other, the idea of a new friend sounded pleasant to you. However, his demeanor changed drastically; he had not mustered even a shy 'hello' and each time you neared, he went to the opposite corner of the room.

"Eh? I don't know. He always seemed a bit weird to me. " Josuke replied without care, hiding the urge to grin, "Oi, it's nearly lunch. Let's get going! Oyakasu id by the other side of the building and if we don't get going, there won't be any tables left for us."

"Um...", you shot one last suspecting glance towards Takeshi, who again cowered in your sight, " okay, yeah sure. Let's get going".

The young Higashikata, your best friend, the one and only surely, opened the door for you. He trailed after you when you crossed into the hallways, not without leaving a last warning- "And remember, they are my darling only."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: it was hard to come up with this, hope you like it!

[yaomomvs]

TAKE OUR HAND

seijoh x manager!reader

in which aoba johsai vbc just wants you to take their hand, just as the many times they have reached for yours when they needed it

pls i’m sorry i just wrote this for comfort, in having a terrible week and so, i just really need my seijoh boys to comfort me even if it’s just in my head and just so you know, and as i’ve been trying to convince myself, things always get better

tuesday, [15:56 pm]

“nice kill yahaba senpai!” kindaichi congratulates his upperclassman.

his voice makes you react, it scared you. still holding your pen and the notebook you always carry around even on normal practice days, your hand threatens you in the most scary way possible.

fuck no, just... breathe.

you are quick to leave aside the notes, and so, you look around to the boys, who just after the coach’s whistle sounds they are quick to approach your spot.

you take the water bottles as quickly as you can.

“oh y/n-san, i know we are irresistible but you can’t just slack off admiring us!” makki teases you laughing.

“if our dear manager is admiring someone is obviously me” oikawa says, before taking a sip of his bottle, slightly making you blush even more.

“i don’t think she likes idiots who still watch youtube conspiracy videos at 3am”

“iwa!”

“weren’t you the one with a secret obsession for romance manga, iwaizumi?” it’s mattsun time to expose his friend. iwai mi doesn’t hesitate and he runs directly to matsukawa, while kunimi brings out his phone to start recording the chaos in the gym.

you don’t listen.

your head hurts, and then, you once again feel this weird thing in you stomach. you have been feeling like this for the past week, and you try to ignore it . but sometimes, you just want the world to stop.

you can’-

“y/n senpai?” watari calls your name, and you notice his furrowed brows looking at you, worried. you blink and correct your posture. you had just zooned out. “is everything ok?”

“ah yes watari kun!” you force your self to sound relaxed because you feel the sudden gaze of the entire team “i was just thinking in a smart way to insult oikawa, but i’m worried he won’t understand tho”

“hey! you said i was your favorite”

you fake laugh once again assuring everyone that you were just fine. the day goes on, and somehow is becomes more difficult to just stay down not worrying about anything.

and they notice.

you don’t walk home with the guys today. instead you run to the bus not before excusing yourself with an ‘urgent family thing’

“just please don’t let makki eat so much ramen today!” you giggle as you run to the bus “i’m not in the mood to dealing with diarrea!”

“that was a secret between us darling!” the pink haired guy screams cheeks blushing.

and maybe you were just too distracted, but before you face them away some of them notice how quick your smile fades.

“you know guys” yahaba is quick to say “call me crazy but, why did she lie?”

—

wednesday, [10:22 am]

when was the last time you actually enjoyed school? not practice, but school itself. seeing numbers everyday in the board that you don’t understand is frustrating. your throat hurts, there’s has been a not there since the begging of the day.

swallow it, y/n, dammit

you decided to take this class, don’t blame the world, blame yourself. isn’t it supposed to be simple? why isn’t it being simple? is that... 

"Square root of 57 is equal to Xo, miss" 

"alright!" 

it is not like it’s a race, you want to say. why was the teacher obsessed with speed?, it’s unfair. your time is not the same as that of others. 

you drop the pencil and you recline in your chair, why couldn’t you do operations and analysis as fast as they could? you take a look around and the eyes of others look frightening. you see ambition, you see security, you see admiration.

the bell rings and you just want to run, and well in a way you end up doing it. leaving your homeroom, you tell your friends that for today you want to be alone, the halls of aoba johsai are big, for your fortune or misfortune. you go to the vending machine and when your drink falls, the minimum noise makes you startle, lately it’s like that, small noises or actions affect you way too much.

and iwaizumi notices it.

you don’t make a single move, it’s just the cold drink resting on your hands. and before iwaizumi could stop mattsun, he was already putting his hand on your shoulder.

“y/n!”

the orange juice spills and once again fear takes hold of you.

you see them both, you’re not stupid and you know hajime stares at you weirdly, and now mattsun, you hide your fear it a bit worse than yesterday, but you do anyways.

"someday, Matsukawa-san, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL ME! and what will you do without me?" you try to say cheerful, wanting to take away the suspicion, for a moment it works.

"flunk history, that leads me to..." 

"no, sweeheart, i won’t give you my homework" 

you walk and both guys follow you, one faster than another, very naive of the situation. "I begin to believe you hate me," says Mattsun, as the three sit on a bench near the school cafeteria casually encountering kunimi who quickly joins you, patting the folds of your skirt as you sit down, you rest on the table and admire his needy expression and as the tantrum of mattsun grows.

minutes go by, your chest pain grows, but somehow you know how to let it go.

 with your hands supporting your face, lunch passes between you and kunimi, you try to talk, you really try. 

but still, your eyes just glow, and kunimi notices how it’s not the glow you always have.

—

thursday [12:03]

your head is spinning, you can feel the cold sweat. will this be the time? why do you feel so small? why can’t you say it?

it’s familiar, you recognize this feeling, an ocean, you’re floating, you know you can swim, but, you’re in the middle of nowhere, you look down. Out of nowhere the intimidating depth of the ocean is beneath you. And then, you sink. You feel like you’re drowning, you feel like you’re fighting the tide, but you just can’t do it.

i just need...

no, it’s not time yet, it’s still training. the boys... you’re the one who should take care of them, you’re the one who has to be be fine. they had no time to lose, they had a goal and for the moment that was the most important thing.

On that bench, your gaze is absent, you know it is so.

and through the window that overlooks your classroom, oikawa notices it too

“y/n...” he mumbled.

of course he’d noticed. at first it was not so clear, but now he remembers.

when kindaichi pinned your dark circles to him, while admiring you by fitting volleyballs in a way not of your own.

makki watches oikawa from your side, you don’t even know the pink-haired guy is there, unaware that he’s sitting next to you. but he notices. he’s been noticing for days that your eyes are threatening to close in the middle of class.

hanamaki catches your attention and instantly that mask you’ve been wearing for weeks appears again.

"hanamaki, i’m fine"

it doesn’t convince them. they both look out the window and nod.

oikawa notices, and god, he wished he had no reason to.

—

friday [14:00 pm]

breathe.

please just... breathe.

you’re fed up. the feeling of guilt and discomfort is still there, can’t you be calm? people don’t need to know, but why do you want to shout it?

the dressing room is alone, the girls from the soccer team are out and it’s your only chance.

the team needs you, hold on a little.

your footsteps are heard in the hallway once again, a symphony you’re tired of listening to.

your chest hurts, your heart is aching, but you just need a little more. hands are shaking, the cold in your body, you need to stop.

you have to make them stop.

but when you walk into the gym, even with your eyes down, all you feel is warm. and it’s because, the boys were standing, aligned begging for you.

no, they beg for your sake.

and everything stops.

one hand from him on your neck, and one hand around your shoulders.

because oikawa, without warning, now has you in his arms.

and then, only then, you break.

tears don’t take long to come out, along with desperate sobs. your legs fail and out of nowhere, you and oikawa are on your knees.

with an alarmed look, the whole club runs towards both, surrounding you as sensibly as possible.

"i’m sorry, i’m sorry I’M SORRY" is heard from you, between hiccups.

“love, listen...” iwaizumi approaches you,somehow he managed to catch up with you, somehow he managed to hold your hand.

"i promise i didn’t want to, but i can’t, i can’t anymore, why can’t i? i try and i try and i keep trying but it’s never enough! IM TIRED OF SEEING SOMETHING AND NOT BEING ABLE TO PROCESS IT LIKE THE OTHERS. I’M TIREDD OF NEVER FULFILLING WHAT I SHOULD”

yahaba’s heart aches, and just as most of the team, is shocked.

your hands, oh your adorable hands, those hands that bandage his in the middle of an important game, he sees them shaking horribly between iwaizumi’s.

“AND I’M SCARED, WHAT IF I LOSE YOU BECAUSE OF THAT BECAUSE OF ME? BECAUSE OF HOW I AM I-“

watari is quick to place your hair gently behind your ear, a kunimi covers you with his jacket.

“I LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND I DONT RECOGNIZE MYSELF” you lower your voice, its cracked now “oikawa I don’t recognize myself, I want to be me again" you whisper, and a knot appears in the captain’s throat, and he puts a hand on your cheek "please... just let me be me again" your throat burns, your eyes get redder.

the gym goes silent, your words still echoing in everyone’s head.

“why didn’t you-“

“i just couldn’t” you blame yourself cutting oikawa off “look at us! we are waisting time on me when we should be- i’m the one who has to- im you support not-“

“hey hey, love...” iwaizumi whispers his voice is filled with sweetness, letting you sit correctly and softly rubbing his thumb in your hands “how many times have you been there for us? y/n your hand is always there”

“that’s true” kyotani says, finally saying something, emotions overwhelmed him a lot, but he genuinely wanted to help you.

“there’s something about you, there’s light” kindaichi follows up.

“no matter where, or how bad we are, somehow you always are helping us stand up” mattsun also tries to carefully approach you, he wants nothing more for you to feel safe.

and oikawa’s arms were still around you. he never stopped.

“we have reached your hand so many times, so now it’s time for you to please take ours” oikawa holds you face, and you see the sincerity and kindness behind his brown eyes, it feels like home.

mattsun does a sign asking the coach for a day off, both of them smile tenderly at you and give the green flag. iwa and makki are next to hold you carefully helping you stand up. they help you stop shaking but it’s mad dog the one who wipes your tears away with a tissue watari handled him. still not knowing if he did it the right way. you still feel kunimi’s scent. you still see kindaichi holding your school bag making sure nothing is missing. yahaba is the one bringing you water. and oikawa still refuses to let you go.

all of them feel like home.

“thank you”

and that’s how you know everything is going to feel fine.

because this club was yours and you were theirs.

this was home.

[rosehearrt]

“No, it’s, erm…my muscles are…weak. For the same reason that my growth is stunted, it…doesn’t matter, now. I’m slowly building back the strength, though unfortunately I’ve been told the height may never change.”

Riddle pursed his lips for a moment. He didn’t relay that sort of information to just anyone, but Rook-senpai was trustworthy. He was also very good at picking up on things left unsaid and reading between lines, so it was nice that he didn’t have to go into detail in order to communicate that this was an issue stemming from home. Regardless, the thought of trying out more weaponry did catch his interest. His aim was rather spot-on, though magic was different from wielding a bow and arrow.

“Naturally, you’ve practiced years to get as good as you have, though I wonder if archery may be a good choice for myself as well? The bow doesn’t seem too heavy. And I have a solid eye for aim. Perhaps I shall call on you in the future for a lesson. Ah…if it isn’t an imposition, that is.”

Despite a lack of purposeful intent behind the action, he peered imploringly through his lashes at his upperclassman, the hope he felt shining through in his expression - it would be nice to have another slot on his schedule for planned time to spend with him. Rook-senpai was a busy man, as was Riddle, though he was certain they could make it work, should his curiosity towards the idea of lessons be requited.

The french, at least, made him smile, though the praise had him flustered all over again, quietly curling his hands into fists atop his thighs to keep from fidgeting or tugging at his clothing. It always felt good to be praised by a person he looked up to, someone he’d mentally ( either on purpose or otherwise ) categorized as a figure of authority. Whether it was professors or upperclassmen, little else made him so happy. 

“…Thank you. I…It’s only to be expected of my family’s heir, and a housewarden must always maintain varieties of excellence as well, but still…”

His smile grew, just a bit more.

“That makes me happy.”

It turned into something far more pondering, however, as the other answered his prior questions. To attempt at using positivity as something to live by…he’d never considered it. His own rage seemed to bubble up without warning, at times too quick and fierce to stop, surging through his veins to taint everything and turn his vision to nothing but red. But Rook-senpai was right…the world was cruel. And it was nice, that someone was able to stick to their philosophy of not adding to it. It clearly took a great amount of self control…and for that, Riddle admired him.

“Hm…I don’t think so.” 

Finally, he stopped fiddling with the arrow, once he realized sharp eyes had picked up on it, that was. And he blinked, thinking over his response.

“It is hard to hear, at times. I have found it quite difficult myself, but you lack malice. I don’t think I’ve ever felt I was being made fun of by you once, since we met…my hackles raise much higher with others, I assure you."

He folded his hands back in his lap so as to be sure he wouldn't start fiddling with anything else in place of the archery equipment.

"Your way of going about other things softens your honesty. ...I’ve never seen you hit someone when they’re down, either. On the other hand, I have seen your honesty uplift. Deuce has told me how you cheered them on during dance practice for the Song and Dance Championship. He said you told every single person that their audition was beautiful as well.”

Pausing, he gave a small laugh, unable to help himself.

“I thought that was rather like you, indeed. Still honest, yet finding something to like about so many different performances no matter how traditionally ‘good’ they might have been.”

His eyes lit with amusement watching how quickly Riddle became flustered over the comment. He was so serious, wasn't he? Rook certainly wasn't offended by anything he had said. He highly doubted someone with that much respect for his seniors would think poorly of Pomefiore. Besides, Vil could command respect out of nearly anyone.

"Perhaps you haven't found the right weaponry. There are lightweight options. Of course muscle training is always an option too, if something else appeals to you." Though he could see Riddle sticking to his comfort zone. There was nothing wrong with preferring magic in a fight, especially when one had talent for it.

He allowed Riddle to touch the arrows, wondering if that might spark some more interest. The language apparently had. Rook commended him for trying to speak in a way that felt comfortable to him personally.

"Merci. Je veux améliorer." Thank you. I want to improve. He appreciated his hard work being noticeable, but he believed he could do better. And he intended to keep putting in the work to achieve those results.

"Your studying is merveilleux!" He had to make sure to praise Riddle for his effort. It meant a lot someone would go out of their way to learn instead of feeling frustrated over his switching between languages.

Rook turned his attention back to the task at hand. Another lesson that wasn't taught in the classroom. He was grateful to know his teaching made sense though.

He hadn't expected Riddle to comment on his attributes. He thought about his questions for a moment. He'd never really considered himself merciful or good, though he didn't deny that observation.

"Oui. Sometimes it would be easier to snap back or leave people hanging. How else are they going to learn? Kindness gives them an out." Rook shrugged. It was simply in his nature to respond in a positive manner.

"But the world is cruel enough. I do not intend to inflict more suffering than necessary." Whether it was an arrow piercing flesh or an insult stabbed into the heart, he'd prefer not to make it too painful.

"I have been told I'm too honest though. That can sound just as harsh. And it would be much harder to change that about myself than some of my other qualities."

[bukojuiice]

25 lives — katsuki bakugo

ೃ  pairing: pro! hero katsuki bakugo x fem! reader

ೃ  tags: alternate universe/time traveler au,  a lot of angst, fluff but the sentimental and nostalgic kind, flashbacks, bakugo travels through so many parallel worlds just to find you.

ೃ  warnings: strong language. wc: 4,764 words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau 

ೃ i created a spotify playlist for this fic, feel free to listen to it while reading here!

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!  if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

 ೃ  Heavily Inspired by one of my favorite written poetry/prose of all time, 25 Lives by Tongari. The poem will be heavily referenced and mentioned in this fic!  The lines from said poem can be identified [❝ like this❞.]

 ೃ After losing the love of his life in a brutal villain incident, Katsuki Bakugo had lost a part of him. Nothing and no one could ever bring her back. He became the shell of a person he once was; fiery, bright, and the driven #2 Pro-hero in the country. He continues to live life with guilt, all hope still lost until he is gifted a time device that can transport him to parallel universes, dimensions and alternate worlds, where he begins his quest to find his lost love. Crossing a hundred of realities and living twenty-five lifetimes just to bring her back into his arms.

“Stars die. they die and they are not sorry

No matter how much the moon says otherwise.

Stars die and your whole galaxy explodes.”

For the majority of Katsuki Bakugo’s life, he is the main star of the show.

Then, you came into his life and made everything else feel like a rehearsal.

In a world where he mostly treated everyone in his life as extras, you were the main heroine.

When he put up walls around himself, you brought them crashing down.

To him, the concept of love and loving someone romantically was foreign. It always came to him as a question, If whether or not love was something worth living for and sacrificing for, giving your half to another person to be whole, when he can already live for himself.

It was always a question… until you became the answer.

 “Use my new baby wisely! Okay, Bakugo-san!?”

Hatsume Mei, a schoolmate of Katsuki back in his UA days, warned him cautiously. She was now an esteemed scientist, one of the best in the country. Katsuki was the first one to come into her mind when she finally completed her new invention, a gadget that can transfer a person’s soul and being to a different body; one in a different space time continuum.

It was as if living a new and different life.

In another universe.

The concept of the device was pretty straight-forward. You are able to go to different dimensions and live the life of your other self; then if it wasn’t the world you wanted to live in, you are free to disappear and go to another parallel universe. It raised skepticism at first and it sounded too good to be true, as how could something as extravagant and complex as this become possible? But they were living in a world full of heroes with the most unique and bizarre quirks, so why can’t it be possible?

This was his chance.

Maybe, with this, he can bring back (Y/N)…

All along, there had been hope.

He was finally going to see her again.

His thoughts bring him back to the day of the incident.

What was reported to be a regular villain attack, escalated into something that no one could expect.

She was the only casualty-

 And he was a minute too late.

Was he not fast enough? What could have happened if he had gotten there in time? Hundreds of hundreds of scenarios of what could’ve been still continue to haunt him until this very day, what could have happened if he had only arrived there earlier to save her? The things he would do to see her beautiful face and feel her calming presence once more, to see the loving woman he went back to after a tiring day, to pepper kisses on, to be dancing with in the kitchen at 2 am, to be the sharing the first cup of coffee with in the morning, the one to wake up to every single morning…

The one whom you’d share the rest of your life with.

But, now… that life was gone.

Seeing your limp and unmoving body surrounded by debris was the most devastating experience and image he had to see and go through in his entire life.

He could do nothing but hold you in his arms, gritting his teeth, tears streaming down from his cheeks, feeling nothing but frustration and powerlessness as the world came crashing down on him.

 “Dammit (Y/N!) Why you? Why did it have to be you?”

Your resting eyes and dormant body remain steady and… cold. Your boyfriend rests his head on your shoulder, trying to hide that he was bawling in pain and sorrow. Katsuki began to feel the weight of his emotions pulling him down, his thoughts reminding him of his past failures and mistakes, and now that this accident that met your demise became one of those said mistakes, how will he be able to recover? If he was able to overcome his demons and insecurities solely because of you, his friends, and his parental figures to guide him… will he even be able to do the same once again?

He was the #2 Pro Hero too… What will the public think of him?

After he had failed to save the one that he had loved the most?

It has been a year since then.

Katsuki’s life went on without you. 

Well, of course it did, Of course it does. It was just an ending, they told him. Not the end.

He told the general public that he had been slowly recovering and that he was able to bounce back to his usual explosive self. Still yelling, still being the competitive and pompous ass he is, even as a Pro-hero. But his friends and family weren’t dumb. Kirishima, his closest confidante knew there was something wrong with him. His parents noticed too that he still wasn’t himself. All of them did.

They all knew Katsuki still hasn’t recovered from the incident at all.

I mean, who would right?

It was perfectly normal to mourn. It was part of the healing process. The Pro Hero Dynamight still can’t move on and that feeling was valid. It takes time to fully heal and he had already made it clear time and time again that he will never ever love someone like the way he loved (Y/N).

But, if there was a way to bring her back, then he wanted to take that chance.

When Izuku heard of news from Hatsume Mei’s newest invention, Katsuki’s green-haired childhood friend immediately told him about it.

Although he was unsure at first, the quirky scientist assured him to wait a little bit more for the trials of the device to finish if he wasn’t sure about it. And when her test subject came back safely, bringing home their lost relative from another universe, that was when Katsuki became sure of his plans.

This was the key to bring (Y/N) back.

It wasn’t going to be easy but he would do absolutely everything just to see you again.

And with that, the day of his world-jumping adventure (literally) had finally arrived.

Bidding farewell to his family and friends, a small gut feeling inside of him says that this might be the last time he’ll ever see them again… and so, in the most Katsuki Bakugo fashion ever, he thanked everyone present that day… indirectly. He expressed appreciation to those who supported him and helped him throughout his life.

Now, it was his time to find the girl who had been there for him the most.

(through his darkest times and saddest nights, she was the ray of sunshine.)

He took a deep breath, turning to his loved ones one last time, a solemn nod yet the cheekiest smirk present on his face as he disappears, whisked away to another world.

The parallel universes that he was going through dropped him into different years of his life. So, Bakugo had to adapt to knowing what age his other self was in the timeline he was currently in. He was lucky that most of the time he landed in a world and at the time where he was a student at UA.

The time where he originally met you.

He needed to take note of every world he had been too because not only were each and every one so different. Katsuki wasn’t a poetic person (his vocabulary mostly composed of colorful words.) but as he continued to jump through so many parallel universes, he had begun to take note of the ones that stood out to him the most. In the form of a poem, one that he thought you would appreciate when he finally reunites with you. Another you at least.

[❝ The very first time I remember you, you are blonde and don’t love me back.❞

✧  This is the first parallel universe in where you were an upperclassman. From Class 3-A. A friend of Nejire, one of the big three. Katsuki was so delighted to see you, only for you to not know him. He was currently one of the most popular students in UA, of course he is, but you paid him no attention, passing by him in the hallways as if he was just another regular freshman, instead, you were seen holding hands with some slimey-looking guy that Katsuki has never ever seen in school. This wasn’t you. Or, at least, this wasn’t the (Y/N) he was looking for. This was only the first parallel world. He wasn’t going to give up.

[❝  The next time you are brunette, and you do.❞ ]

✧ Unrequited love. What a stupid cliché. In this world, he was an idiot too far up his own ass, whilst the entirety of Class 1-A loathed him and did not look up to him like the way they did in his original world. Katsuki was so caught up in trying to change his personality, that he failed to notice you. The girl who was always in the back of the classroom, looking out the window. You were always just there. Never noticed. Admiring him from afar.

[❝ After a while I give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything. because even if you don’t exist, I am always in love with you. ❞ ]

✧  This was practically the same world that Katsuki originated from. Only you were missing. Every single event that transpired in his life, had happened in this parallel universe. The USJ Incident, The Forest Camp Training, The Trip to to Nabu Island… everything. There was this huge empty space that you were supposed to fill. Except, you didn’t exist in this universe. It was the quietness and the lack of your presence in this world that bothers him. Katsuki wonders how this other self of his could continue this life without you in the picture.

[❝ I remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together, when you share your secrets and sorrows and hiding places with me. ❞ ]

✧  This universe surprised him with puppy love. Here, he was brought back to his childhood. You were his dearest friend and childhood sweetheart. The three of you along with Deku, were a trio. At a very young age, you kept his feet on the ground, never wanting him to think that he was above everyone else despite his powerful quirk. The young Bakugo was able to share his frustrations and insecurities to you, while you always listened. You were always there. He talked about his quirk and his complaints about how the other kids only liked him for his powers, but not for who he actually is. You continued to support him and love him wholesomely for who he was and he was glad to have a friend like you and…. Deku. (as much as he didn’t want to admit it 

However, it ended there. The two of you lying down on the hill, looking up at the stars, and shyly holding hands. Just randomly faded away. And in a blink of an eye, the timeline shifts forward to middle school. His worst years, he would say.

He was so eager to see you again and hopefully remain friends with Izuku after all this time.

Yet, you were nowhere to be found and… Izuku wasn’t his friend anymore.

Apparently, the two of you became distant after graduating elementary because you moved away and never got into contact with him ever again.

This was too heartbreaking for this universe’s Bakugo. To have such a wonderful and healthy social life when he was a kid, only for all of that to just disappear when he started middle school. On to the next parallel world then.

[❝ I love how you play along with my bad ideas, before you grow up and realize they are bad ideas. And in our times together I have many bad ideas.❞ ]

✧  The Sludge Villain. A very traumatizing experience that still haunts Katsuki until this very day. In this world, you were still friends with him. Always following him around and making sure he didn’t get into trouble. He continuously pushes you away, telling you that he didn’t need you and you shouldn’t be controlling of him.

You finally had enough of his arrogance that day and… got into an argument with him.  It was the same day as the Sludge Villain incident.

It happened in this universe too.

After he was captured by said villain, you ran after him, tears welling up in your eyes, wanting to reach out and save him. The sludge villain noticed you, and became more interested in your quirk, targeting you instead. All Might was a little too late and…

The incident led you to losing your quirk and having to live in a hospital for the rest of your years.

It felt like a long bad dream. One that reminded him of your demise in his original world. Bakugo immediately teleported to a different parallel universe. Not wanting to deal with that kind of sadness ever again.

[❝ When we meet as adults you’re always much more discerning. I don’t blame you. Yet, always, you forgive me.❞ ]

✧ In this universe, you were in the same hero agency. Not knowing each other prior to this. Bakugo was the new hotshot that all the other heroes in your agency were going crazy about, just because he was from UA and was attractive. You didn’t get the hype and why everyone else was fawning over him. He was a Pro-hero just like all of you. So, when you finally met him in the flesh, you could immediately tell he was a conceited ass by the way he looked at you and by the way he presented himself.

Unbeknownst to you, Dynamight’s heart was fluttering with happiness at the sight of seeing you again. Your Pro-hero self. Caring, Bad-ass, Confident, and Courageous… It was you.

Almost you.

After being partnered up with him in hero work for the past months, he began to turn soft, a bit annoying, and act flustered whenever you were around which you immediately thought was very out of character for him.

Then he confesses.

You said no.

It just didn’t feel right. First, your hero career was more important to you and you just couldn’t reciprocate those feelings back. The two of you weren’t for each other, and he understood that. He left you for a moment to go get get some “fresh air.”

Bakugo was getting frustrated. His mind going hazy at the thought that he’s gone to so many parallel worlds yet still haven’t found you is slowly beginning to take a toll on him. But he still wasn’t going to give up.

[❝ As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn’t exist, and the ones where we just, barely, never meet. I hate those. I prefer the ones in which you kill me.❞ ]

✧  The next alternate worlds he went to were an absolute mess. One of them where the two of you barely meet. Merely passing by each other in the street, opening the door for you or entering the same convenience store. Fate not wanting the two of you to meet. Like magnets being pulled away from each other. A romance movie without the romance. As if telling Katsuki that the two of you were never meant to meet in this universe. Don’t even bother.

Then there’s the other one where you were a merciless villain and he was a pro-hero who had to defeat you. He couldn’t do that. You overpowered him.

But, hey, at least he got to see you as the girl who didn’t put up with his shit and could care less about him. Not to mention you were a part of the organization that was against everything that he stood for as a hero.

It was a tragedy. Not the Romeo and Juliet kind, but reminiscent of it. With Romeo sacrificing his life, yet Juliet remains the same and indifferent.

[❝ But when all’s said and done, I’d surrender to you in other ways. Even though each time, I know I’ll see you again, I always wonder is this the last time? Is that really you? And what if you’re perfectly happy without me?❞ ]

✧ Bakugo was finally teleported to a reality where he was a high school student again. However, he wasn’t studying in UA. Instead, having to go to a regular high school (which he was totally irritated about because why is his parallel self here going to a regular school in the first place? What happened to him?) The two of you pass by each other on your way home. Going off in different directions. You were a student at UA, laughing and mindlessly chatting with his friends. Mina, Kirishima, Denki, and Sero…

All of you barely even noticing him and acknowledging his presence.

At this moment, he realized that maybe you weren’t meant to meet in this world again. He felt like a simple character in the background. A small speck of dust in your universe. God, why was he thinking this? This wasn’t like him. He slowly lost his confidence as he goes from one parallel world to the next to find you. He couldn’t even motivate and give himself pep talks anymore. Has he reached the breaking point? Is he still even himself? Is he still Katsuki Bakugo?

Maybe, he should just give up trying at this point. Every single alternate reality so far all ended in tragedy. Not once were the two of you able to reconcile and have a happy ending. It was not like him to give up, but the chances at this point were slim and in each alternate universe, Bakugo just become more and more disappointed with how things turned out with your other-worldly selves…

It was as if the only universe where the two of you became happy was in his original world.

Was he going to stop here?

[❝ Ah, but I don’t blame you; I’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. It’s only fair that I should be the one to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes.❞ ]

✧  This was it. The twenty-fifth parallel world. Hopefully, the last one that he has to go to and hopefully the one where he finally he finds you.

Bakugo jumps into the portal, expecting the vibrant colors and hues of the city to appear around him, only for him to be transported to a white box.

In the middle of this white void was a cherry blossom tree. Blooming in the prettiest pink colors, and swaying with the non-existent wind. Near it was a small bench. A feminine figure sitting on it, facing the tree.

It was you.

You.

Katsuki knows it’s you because it’s the same dress you wore that day.

A beautiful blue dress that the two of you bought when you were out for some errands. It was the kind of blue that reminded you of the sky, which is why you bought it in the first place. You were saving it for that day, to wear when you visit Katsuki at work and drop him off his bento lunch.

That day.

Instead of a sky reflecting off of your dress, it became grey. Like the color of a storm instead.

He remembers fondly what happened at that same morning. He was getting ready for hero work, whilst you were rummaging for something inside the closet.

“Ahah!” You exclaimed, finally pulling out something to wear. The sound of the wardrobe hangers clinking from the inside.

Katsuki wanted to take a peek of you but you were giving him no chances. You see him trying to take a look when you noticed his blonde hair spiking up more than usual.

“Hey! No peeking!” You giggled, hiding yourself even further inside your closet.

“Gah. Come on! Just one?” He groans, teasing you, trying his best to pull out his puppy tone. “Please?”

“No.” You deadpanned seriously and you could practically feel him pop a vein.

“Hey! What was that for!? I was just joking-“

“I was just joking too you weirdo.” You giggled again, stepping out of the closet. You take a deep breath and straighten your dress, twirling around for him to see. “How do I look?”

He dashes towards you, picking you up from the ground as he begins to twirl you around.

“Katsuki! Put me down!” You chuckle, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you. “You’re going to be late for work!” You tap his back lightly, trying to get him to put you back on the ground.

“You’re beautiful. You always are.” He says seriously. Not a tinge of playfulness or abrasive in his voice. He was still holding you up, but positioned you in a way that the both of your faces were inches away from each other, gazing at each other’s eyes.

The both of you lean in for a sweet and blissful kiss. It felt light and comforting. A feeling that you always have whenever you were with him. A very giddy feeling.

And at that same day, when he saw you again, surrounded by darkness, your eyes closed, your body tranquil and your gentle face looking ever so at peace…

You still looked beautiful, even then.

“Suki-kun.” You wave at him from afar, a solemn smile present on your face. You beckon him to sit next to you but he hesitates.

“(Y/N)…” His voice cracks, not really noticeable, but you could hear it. “Tch… are you.. real? Is this really you?”

“It’s me, love.” You continue to show him your smile. As you blink, you were suddenly caught in his arms. Katsuki was hugging you tightly like there was no tomorrow, his head nestled on your shoulder. His hug felt warm yet cold, like he had been hugging skeletons all this time whilst trying to find you.

You had no words to say to him.

It was just that kind of moment.

Hearing your voice, hugging you tight, holding your hand, and seeing your smile was enough for him at the moment.

This was you.

Actually you.

“It seemed like a lifetime ago when I began searching for you.” He whispered softly, his voice still so rough yet loving all the same.  

A lifetime of pain and sorrow. Of disappointment and missed opportunities.

“Ah…” Your voice trails off. “We don’t have much time left.”

“Huh? What the hell do you mean?” You untangle yourself from his arms, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb whilst he holds your hand still.

“I-I can’t go back to our original universe.” You mumble, trying to fight back the tears and continuing to caress his face. “We can’t go back together.”

“(Y/N)!” Bakugo’s face goes stern, as realization hits him. “Shit! (Y/N)! Look, We can get out of here okay!? There’s this device I have-“ The device on his wrist dissolves into nothing as the room around you begins to be consumed by darkness, like sucking you into a black hole.

“Katsuki… no. It’s hopeless! We can’t-“

“Damn it (Y/N)! I’ve traveled through every fucking imaginable universe possible just to find you again! I’ve gone through hell and back just to see you again! I’m not going to leave without you!”

Before you could answer his rebuttal, the bench that both of you were sitting on vanishes and now the two of you were falling in an endless black hole.

As this parallel world around you began spinning faster and faster, the two of you floated upwards, hands locked tightly together, and your eyes sad and bewildered.

The two of you watched as your faces grew younger back to your high school years, like this universe was going in reverse, moving the both of you backwards in time.

You were still holding onto Katsuki’s hands, trying to savor the last few moments with him as you began to say your goodbyes, tears coursing down your face.

“Katsuki… I know you had seen things you wish you hadn’t. You have done things you wish you could take back and I know you’ve been wondering why you’ve been thrown into all of this, why you had to suffer the way you did and why you had to go through so much just to find me. The ghost of me. And as you were going through all these alternate universes alone and hurting, I wish I could tell you that it’s okay. Even if you don’t find me again, I will always be here. My presence will always be lingering. I will live in your heart, Katsuki Bakugo. You deserve the whole world for traveling through twenty-five lifetimes just to look for me. I love you with all my heart, my soul, my being, and all that is left of me… I love you.”

“I-I love you too. Through all these lifetimes I’ve spent with another you, you will always be the one.” Katsuki mumbled, pulling you for one last kiss.

A kiss ever so soft and sweet, worth all the lives he’s experienced.

“Let’s meet again in another lifetime.”

Time continued to reverse back, to the point you no longer knew who you were with. Their face being blocked by a gleam of light. You were grasping the hands of a stranger, but you didn’t let go. And neither did they.

For a moment, there was a calming presence. A whole new world was opening up like a vortex, swallowing the both of you…

Into a whole new universe.

“(Y/N)-chan! Wait up!”

“Oh? Ochaco-chan!”

The brown-haired girl catches up to you, holding on to your arm as she catches her breath. “Can you believe it’s our first day in UA!?”

“I can’t believe it either!” You giggle along with her, taking in the sight that was the top hero academy of Japan.

It was finally the month of April.

The Cherry blossoms were blooming, symbolizing a time of renewal, a time for change and a time to turn over a new leaf.

Today is your first day in UA  Academy.

You still haven’t even grasped the fact that you even got in the first place.

Everything still feels so surreal.

The entrance exams and the excitement you felt whilst waiting for the results to release and now, you were about to step foot into the school of your dreams?

What an amazing start to your high school life indeed.

You and Ochaco were standing in the middle of the walkway, still in awe of all the pretty sights when someone bumped into you.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” You called out.

No response.

You turn to take a good look at the person who knocked against you and it was… a guy.

Blonde. Spiky Hair. Hand in his Pockets. Earphones on. His pants worn loose.

God, what a dork.

“It’s alright (Y/N)-chan! He probably didn’t hear us.” Ochaco assured you, trying to pull you away from him before you could even start a fight.

You sighed, turning to your friend with a smile. “Fine. Fineee. Shall we head to class?”

“Class 1-A! Here we go!” She holds onto your arm once more as the both of you giggle and hop your way into the classroom.

“Ochaco-chan! What are you saying!? You do know I got sorted into a different class right? I’m in Class 1-B!”

“A-ah! You’re right! I’m sorryyyy (Y/N)-chan!”

Bakugo turns his head to look back at your animated figure walking behind him. He stares at you for a good second whilst readjusting the earphone on his left ear, as he too, heads on his way to his Class 1-A.

There is something so delicate about time, so fragile. In a slight moment, you can miss something so pivotal, yet never have the chance to see or witness it ever again.

 Feeling the presence of the person you would be spending the rest of your life with, joining the dots in the sky, and wondering when your stars would align.

Until then, you will dream of him, and he will do the same. 

It was only a matter of time. You will cross paths again.

[❝ until I find the one where you’ll return to me.❞ ]

- Fin.

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​ @sparkykatsuki​ @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy @drinktheramune​

[xoxo-denver-xoxo]

Hi me again can I request another Sally Face(I really like the game) when its like the start of the game and its sal first day at school, Travis is picking on the group(Sal, Larry, Ash, Todd) and then the reader whos like 2 years older than them and is like a jock and Travis is terrified of them?

NOTE: I don't really know how to add the first day of school part so it's just a normal school day. Also, it hints to a future relationship.

Sᴀʟ Fɪsʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ Oʟᴅᴇʀ S/O Wʜᴏ Pʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛs Hɪᴍ ғʀᴏᴍ Tʀᴀᴠɪs

Fᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ: Sᴀʟʟʏ Fᴀᴄᴇ

Rᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: Yᴇs

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: Bᴜʟʟʏɪɴɢ, Cᴜʀsɪɴɢ, Sʟᴜʀs (I ᴀᴍ LGBTQ sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀɴɢʀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) )

Sal honestly expected to bullied at school, but that doesn't mean he likes it. Especially when the bully could actually get under his skin sometimes. Still, he managed to keep his cool and calmy escape the situation. Sometimes. Other times he'd get sassy back or Larry would step in to help. Today Travis was messing with them all. And Larry has had enough.

"Travis, just fuck off already before I put in you the ground!" Larry spoke menacingly. Sal put a hand on his shoulder to try and calm him down but it didn't really work.

"Heh, you don't scare me! You're just some pathetic, fag!" Travis always used the same, basic insults. Sal could easily predict his next words and be 75% right. Larry didn't have time to respond.

"Traaavis. Travis - dude - what the fuck are you doing?" a voice sneered from behind Todd and Ashley. When the two stepped out of the way, an upperclassman stepped into the fight. They were wearing a letterman jacket, the one that the football team wears. Travis shrunk back in what Sal could only assume was fear. But why? Yeah, it was an upperclassman but they weren't scary. They seemed rather normal.

"W-well, I was er uh...," Travis attempted to explain in a mutter, but he couldn't come up with any excuse. The upperclassman was now standing directly in front of Travis now.

"Get the fuck out of here before I call your daddy to come retrieve your corpse," they snarled down at him. That seemed to do the trick, Travis quickly fled the fight. The only thing left were you and them. They stared at you in awe while you just continued to glare at Travis as he fled the hallway.

"Man, that guy really needs to be put in place. Hope someone knocks him out one day," you snorted, as you turned back to the group. They were all staring at you, in confusion? Shock? Whatever it was, it was kinda freaking you out. Especially with the masked kid. "You guys good or...?" The masked kid snapped out of it.

"Y-yeah! We're okay, just.... surprised," Sal assured. Everyone else snapped out of it when he spoke and Todd was immediately thanking you while Larry insisted on knowing how you managed to scare Travis off. Ashley and Sal stood back as to not overwhelm you.

"Alright, alright. Back off, don't start nagging at me now," you shoo'ed Todd and Larry back before introducing yourself. "What's all y'all's names?"

"I'm Larry. Sorry to bug ya like thta, just.... woah. I don't think I've ever seen him run so fast," Larry marveled. You responded with a chuckle as you explained. "Travis tried to join the football team. He just wasn't good enough. So, his daddy tried to pay his son into the team. Let's say the coach doesn't take bribes easily," you snickered.

"Well, I'm Ashley. Everyone just calls me Ash, though," Ashley introduced herself. "Thanks for scaring that jerk off, he was really starting to piss me off." You gave a nod.

"I'm Todd, and I totally agree. Travis does need to be taught a lesson but it seems like you're getting there," Todd agreed. You gave a shrug. "I would beat him up but I'm afraid to be kicked off the team. The only case in which I would beat that dick upis if attempted to hurt a teammate or friend," you acknowledged. Sal had to admit, he was rather thrilled to have you present. He didn't want Lisa to stress aboutLarru if he did get in a fight with Travis.

"And I'm Sal. My friends call me Sally Face sometimes," the masked kid finally soat out his name. You blinked. "Isn't that a little insensitive?" you stammered, looking at the kid from top to bottom. Sal was happy the mask was present. He would be so embarrassed if you saw his blush.

"I don't mind it all that much," he muttered a little too quietly. Thankfully you still heard him. "Well, if it's not too insensitive of me, what's with the mask?" you hesitated to ask. "Nah, don't worry about it. Everyone asks. It's a prosthetic," he replied. You nodded.

"Hey, why don't you come hang with us after school today? It'll be chill to have you around," Larry suggested, you agreed to his invitation and gave him your number.

"See you guys around. See you, Sally Face."