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primalsouls · 3 years

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checkup

albedo x m! reader

⚠️ : none but let me know!

theme: general

note: albedo albedo albedo albedo. i just love albedo and want to write something more general because usually the fics i read tend to be too fluff or too angst and sometimes other fics tend to feel like a super slow. like, im not trying to read an eassy. 💀 jkjk lol anyway, enjoy, hope you like it! and thank you for reading! let me know what you think. :)

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Dragonspine was never in their bucket list of places to visit. It was deadly cold. Monsters roamed around. Even the Fatui were presented. [Y/N] was surprised how he managed to reached the campus set out by the Chief Alchemist further up the mountain. One would think he would camp out with the group based at the bottom of the mountain. He was a skilled swordman and his vision kept him warm throughout the difficult journey as best as it could. He did broke a sweat when fighting a few monsters but all that was important was his destination. Thus meeting Albedo, the genius Kreideprinz. [Y/N] was new to the Knight of Favonius, started back a few weeks ago. Today he was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to assist the Captain of the Investigation Team in one of his experiments. Or alternatively, Jean worried about the alchemist not taking care of himself and potentially risking failed experiments turn to unwanted results in Dragonspine and Mondstadt.

It was his order to check on the man. But, by the Archons, does he had to camp this far up. [Y/N] groaned when he reached a broken bridge. How was he going to get to the other side? Ah, right. Gliding. With a good running start, he could jump just high enough and glide his way to the other half of the fallen bridge with no added injuries. A flawless plan.

Not.

A scream left his lips when he jumped as best as he could after his run. No wonder he did terrible at mathematics. His calculations were off. And now, he was going to pump down to his end. Just to check on some big-time, smart guy. [Y/N] should had decline. But he wanted to prove himself. For what now? Prove he can see the light firsthand? What a joke. He reached out, his hand inches away from the other broken part of the bridge. He was so focus on reaching something to grab on he didn't hear his own scream leave his mouth nor the abrupted tug on his hand held by another. He came to his senses when he smacked against the wall under the brigde harshly, letting out a groan. [Y/N] looked up. [E/C] eyes met bright teal eyes. Such beautiful eyes. It felt like he was staring into emerald instead. They outshined the blues around Dragonspine. Like sun if the clouds ever go away.

"Are you only going to keep staring or help me pull you up?" He heard, the soothe voice snapping [Y/N] out of their thoughts. A blush bloomed on his face as he cleared his throat, using his other hand to keep himself firm in their hold.

"S-Sorry..." [Y/N] mumbled as he was pulled up. Solid, cold ground was what he felt right away. He looked over his shoulder, grimacing at the sight of the long fall he could had experienced first and last. Cursing the fall away, the knight turned back to his savior, about to thank them until he stopped himself. Upon closer look, his savior was... handsome. Their ashy light blonde hair reached below their shoulders, pulled back in a braided ponytail. It lookes adorable. Soft, even. It makes him want to run his fingers through it. Realizing he was staring again, [Y/N] cleared his throat as he shook his head, his blush increasing in color. Eyes darted to stare at the ground instead. "Uh, thank yo-you... Thank you for saving me back there." The knight said with a small smile, looking back his savior only to see them walk away already. "What?" [Y/N] sat there forzen, not believing what happened. He chuckled weakly, now pissed for the rude manner. "Hey, wait up!" He stood up from the ground, dusting himself off from any snow as he ran up to catch up to the mystery person. "You know, it's really rude to jusf walk away like that!" [Y/N] complained, slowing down as he came up to a campsite. His eyes widen a bit. There were bookshelves lined up again the walls of the cavern. Tables filled with written pages and materials. A small set of art supplies in one area and an crafting table by his side. Did his savior lived here? Wait, was this...?

"Are you the Captain of the Investigation Team, Albedo?" The knight said, walking up to the alchemist who simply nodded with no reply. He was focused on his work, [Y/N] could see that. "Oh okay..." He muttered underneath his breath, raising a brow. Well, here he was. The alchemist looked alright. There was no sight of any failed experiments. Mondstadt was good to stay for another day. But [Y/N] wasn't leaving yet. "My name is [F/N]. I was ordered by the Acting Grand Master to check on you... Which is why I'm here..." Albedo only gave a faint hum. What a conversationalist. "Okaaay..." The young man looked around. He couldn't just leave after what he just experienced. He was still shaky.

"Where are you from?" [Y/N] asked, attempting to make a conversation.

"Here and there." Albedo replied bluntly.

"What do you do?"

"This and that."

"You ever-"

"Now and then."

"Gosh, you're just full of information." [Y/N] grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And you're just full of interruptions." Albedo fired back, finally looking away from his work and turned to the knight. His expression was stoic but his beautiful emerald eyes held a hint of annoyance. His comment made the other man pouted and rolled his eyes. "You done your quest. Now, you may leave."

"What the-? Huh?" He couldn't believe it. He was being kicked out? Reasonable, actually. But still. What a rude alchemist. "Okay, look, I have to actually make sure you're okay and Jean said to stay for a few days before I return, anyway." [Y/N] explained. Albedo sighed softly, disinterested from the interaction. The knight clicked his tongue. "So, no, I'm not leaving." The knight huffed, head held high. Albedo hummed again, already looking back at his work. "Oh my- really?" [Y/N] shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He kept studying the area they were in, trying to locate any sort of self-care going on. There was a cook pot but the burned woods look as if it had went out hours ago. "How long had you been working?"

Albedo shrugged, papers being moved around in his area. [Y/N] sighed. He went to stand beside the table, inches away from him to not disturb his work. With the closeup, [Y/N] saw fainted dark circles under his eyes. He looked a little pale, too.

"Have you eaten at all? Rest?" He asked softly, a frown on his face. His gloved hands rest on his waist. [Y/N] looked like a parent scolding their child. Albedo shrugged again. The knight groaned, head tilted back. The lack of responses were starting to pissed him off. "I'll make you something." He grumbled, looking into his traveling bag as he walked over to the pot. Using his Pryo vision, he watched the flames come to alive once more. He pulled out pre-packaged ingredients he made himself before he set off.

Albedo's concentration was fully on his project but the smell of a delicious meal wandered around his nose. It pulled him out of his priority. The scent made his stomach growled. The Geo user stopped what he was doing and turned around. His eyes spotted the knight crouched down beside the pot, stirring around the contents it cooked. The flames illuminated the small cave, the knight's face glowed from it. Hair swayed back, half-lidded eyes stared boredly at the pot. Soft lips pressed into a thin line. It was a pretty sight. A perfect picture. A gorgeous paint on a canvas. His canvas. The scenery needed to be painted in his canvas.

[Y/N] heard movements behind him but he didn't bother to look up. He figured the alchemist was still all over his experiments. Behind his back, Albedo set up his easel, an 18x24 canvas rest nicely on it. His paints, brushes, and palette laid beside him on a stool with a cup of water on it as well. He began to sketch out the sight, a concentrated frown on his face.

"Hmm... I think it's done." [Y/N] muttered to himself, smiling a bit at the cooked stew he made. He was about to get up but a shout stopped him.

"Don't move! I'm not done yet." He heard the alchemist. The Pyro user blinked, confusion written over his face. "Not done..." Albedo continued, his hand moving a brush around. [Y/N] swallowed, wondering what he was doing.

"Why can't I move?" He asked, still in the position.

"Because I'm not finish."

"Finish with what?"

"The painting... It's not finished..." Albedo trailed off, focusing more on the canvas. [Y/N] was dumbfounded. Ah, right. The alchemist had a set of art supplies. But why could he be painting? Was he painting him? He was just sitting around the cook pot, nothing else. What did he capture in his mind to had the urge to paint? So much questions ran through his head and his face rest back to how it was when the knight stared at the pot. Just what Albedo needed to complete his new piece.

Half an hour passed and the flames were small. the pot was sat beside it. No need to have burnt food. [Y/N]'s legs were starting to cramp.

"Are you do-"

"Done." Albedo finished for him, stepping back from his canvas. [Y/N] sighed in relief as he stood up and stretched his limps out, hearing a few joints popped. Surely didn't sounded good but felt good. He walked over to Albedo.

"Can I see, please?" He asked, tilting his head. Albedo stared at the canvas before shifting his eyes over to the knight. He suddenly felt flustered. What a foreign feeling. It was he was embarrassed. He was not embarrassed. His face felt warmed. Was he blushing? What was going on? [Y/N] waited for an answer, raising a brow as he sent a charming smile his way. Why did such a gesture made his chest tightened but in a good way? Like something fluttered inside him. Was his heart beat increasing? Impossible. Feelings were unfamiliar to him. So, why was he experiencing them right now? "Albedo..." His name rolled out of his mouth. It sounded perfect. Did he just noticed it?

"It's not finished..." Albedo replied quickly, throwing [Y/N] off guard.

"But you said-"

"It's not finished." Albedo repeated, clearing his throat. The knight nodded slowly.

"Okaay..." [Y/N] mumbled, looking back at the pot. "Ah, well, dinner is ready. C'mon, let's eat." He said, walking back at the pot to begin serving the meal for both. Albedo watched him, lips parted slightly. His teal eyes moved back to the canvas. Finished. It was finished. He just... didn't want to show the knight but why? It was beautifully painted. A pretty piece. The look he captured from the knight painted there. Admirable.

"Are you coming or what?" [Y/N] called out, already setting the other table for them to eat at. Albedo blinked and nodded a second later. He placed his brush and palette down, taking his gloves off as he made his way over. There they sat. In complete silence. It wasn't awkward, fortunately. It was comfortable atmosphere. No need to exchange words. Albedo seem to like that. Perhaps Jean did a good thing to sent someone out. It felt nice to have company over for once.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #x reader #x male reader #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #albedo x male reader #primal writes

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rotten-games · 3 years

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City of Immortals RO List

Okay so here it is, the list of ROs like I promised. Both mc's have their own pool of love interests to choose from with little overlap.

Here you’ll get a description of the ROs and some information on how the mc or others might view them. Also some info on the mc’s.

Mc1

Born to be a soldier by design, they were afflicted with immortality and stopped aging entirely once they hit thirty. A side effect—or perhaps a feature—is the beast that all but lives inside them, taking control when they feel incredibly strong emotions, though most often when anger is present. Where once they held full control of it, of the transformation they go through, now they must wrestle with its control with each passing day.

You are what’s called a Hunter. Every settlement has them, but Eden has the most. Caroline controls all her hunters from Eden, though ‘Hunter’ may be a bit of an oversimplification of the job description. Yes, one of their main jobs is providing food and other resources for the settlement, but they’re also bounty hunters, keepers of the peace, and are also often recruited for odd jobs when they have no contracts to fill. Perhaps the most important rule in Hunting, is that you always work in pairs.

Caroline: She/her

The best way to describe Carol is ‘short’, with a pair of unblinking amber eyes and a wind-buffeted, naturally tanned complexion. Her russet curls, while usually out of her face, never seem to stay tied back for long, a seemingly constant slew of curls sticking to her forehead. A jagged scar cuts across the knuckles on her right hand.

Caroline is unrelenting. She knows what her settlement needs and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it—to save the lives of those she must oversee she is willing to do anything. Within reason. Truthfully, Caroline never asked to be made the leader of Eden, the job just sort of fell into her lap one day and no one bothered to take it from her. You’ve worked for her for years by the start of chapter one, and if you’ve learned anything about her it’s that she doesn’t do smalltalk. She’s been in a relationship with Lowrie for years now, and as far as you can tell, they’re very happy with one another.

Lowrie: non-binary, they/them pronouns

Impossibly tall and scrawny, Lowrie’s skin is constantly burned red by the sun, seemingly unable to tan no matter what they do. Their face is long, with ash-coloured, shoulder-length hair that would usually hide their grey eyes but is otherwise kept out of their face with a blue-patterned scarf.

Some have called Lowrie stuck up in the past for their less than talkative nature but that would be an oversimplification. In truth, they just aren’t fond of talking—which is probably why they get on with Harley so well—and more shy than anything else. One of Eden’s finest Hunters, they spend most of their time in the sweltering heat of Wasteland bringing bandits in and shooting any of the mangy beasts that stray too close to Eden. The rest of their time is spent managing the bar with Caroline and Harley, tending to keep to themself. You’ve worked with Lowrie in the past, and as far as you can tell there’s little love lost between the two of you.

Carol + Lowrie poly:

Caroline and Lowrie are poly and in a committed relationship with one another. They will not leave one another for monogamy with mc, however, you don’t have to be in a throuple with them—though that’s definitely on the table—you can simply be with one, who is with both you and the other. Lowrie is also currently casually seeing Harley. Carol is not seeing anyone else.

Mordred: he/him.

With a seemingly constant fuzz along his jaw, and a never-ending supply of little scars littering his warm olive skin, his hair tends to cover everything but his yellow eyes and the deep bags underneath. His hair is typically tied into a loose bun at the back of his head, mostly obscuring his pierced, slightly pointed ears.

Mordred is a hot-headed, easily irritated young man who’s been by your side since day one. You dragged yourselves out of the crumbling ruins of Ledala together, you fought together, and now you work together as Hunters. Partner’s in crime doesn’t quite cover your relationship but it’s certainly close. In recent years, however, your relationship has strained—perhaps it’s due to past mistakes getting in the way, or past feelings, but either way at the start of the book he’s nowhere to be found.

At the start of the game you can determine just what your relationship is with him—it’s strained at this point but the reasons why are totally up to you. He can also potentially have been an old flame of MC2.

Ridley: Gender variable

Ridley is an energetic person with a pair of bright green eyes constantly sparkling with a glint of adventure. Despite their heavily-muscled frame, they seem to constantly be hiding behind their oversized glasses, a veil of their shaggy red hair, and a slouch that makes them out to be much smaller than they are.

Ridley is… an enigma. While technically a Hunter, they seem much more interested in the pursuits of science and research than holding off rabid beasts with nothing but a gun that’s falling apart and a rusty sword. Of course, they can hold their own well enough, but when they’re meant to be spending their time training or helping out—and indeed, even on their time off—they’re usually found traipsing around in the desert looking for… who knows what.

Doc: She/her

Doc is stocky and sharp-jawed, dark brown, almost black eyes always watching. Her dense curls are shoulder-length and appear twisted together and held back behind her head. The tip of her left ear appears to have been torn off somehow.

Not known for her bedside manner, Doc travels between settlements to tend to the sick, injured, and broken, and though none can particularly vouch for her interpersonal skills (though who can say anyone has particularly good ones, these days?), they can certainly do so for her medicinal accomplishments. Some think her a wandering ghost, aiding those who need help to make up for the sins of her past, others simply see her as a woman seeking to do her part for the good of Wasteland, regardless, if you get on her bad side she’s been known to be liberal with her gun. Or so the rumors say.

J. Allard: Gender variable

Allard is a nervous-looking, shifty individual with short but messy brown hair flecked with grey. Constantly fidgeting with the ring on their thumb, their stutter becomes more obvious the more nervous they are. Though their eyes hide behind a pair of darkened glasses, a pallid face a week out from its last wash they are, completely, honest. Trust me.

J. Allard is a totally normal priest. There is nothing strange about them, they simply want what is best for you and your companions.

Mc2

Dragged down into the depths of the earth on the day Ledala fell, you never knew of the city beneath the surface. Your sibling died that day, you’re sure of it, and a part of you died with them—the beast no longer responds to your call and you’re still left injured from whatever afflicted you and your comrades that day. The man who saved you set you to work for him—sorry, with him—and now you walk perpetually in the darkness of a city long since forgotten by the sun, with people named after the remnants of an old world you never knew existed. You were never meant to survive that night, and every day the world around you reminds you of that.

Arthur: he/him

Arthur doesn’t look quite there half the time. His skin is translucent, his pale blue eyes impossibly far away, platinum blond hair little more than wispy strands atop his head. Most of his body is otherwise covered completely by that old, brown coat of his. There’s light freckling across his nose.

Arthur saved you that night. A Private Investigator by trade, he brought you on to work together because you had no where else to go. Maybe because of it you should be closer than you are but there’s always been a distance between you he’s been unwilling to cross. Either way, despite working together—living together—he keeps to himself and you try to keep to yourself in turn. Still, you can’t help but notice the disdain he has for the City Council and their lackeys.

Perci: she/her

Perci is constantly smiling. Relaxed of posture, her straight hair once ashy brown is now dyed silver. It’s cut short at the sides and back, creating an undercut, most of her fringe tucked behind her ears to reveal a pair of dark brown, monolid eyes. She seems allergic to sleeves, taking whatever chance she gets to show off her cybernetic arm and the colourful tattoos that adorn her flesh arm.

A friend of Arthur who sometimes helps with investigations. She’s friendlier than he is with you, even inviting you out on occasion, but rebellion is on her lips more and more nowadays, and she isn’t subtle about it. You haven’t seen her in quite a while—as far as you can tell she and Arthur aren’t on speaking terms anymore after that big fight they had a few months back. As far as you can tell, she’s moved on and you certainly wouldn’t blame her if she has Council dogs on her heels.

Saga: Saga is always the same gender as your mc is.

Saga’s hair is a deep blue in colour, their black roots just barely growing through. Half of their head is shaved, the other half left chest-length and braided over their shoulder. Though their entire body seems to interwoven with tech, what is perhaps most interesting about them is the angular tattoo that crawls down the right side of their face. This is probably why they come to you completely covered in muck and baggy clothing.

Saga shows up at your door with a different name and a job. You aren’t given why, only the how, only the what. They’re stubborn and flighty in equal measure, suspicious of everyone around them including yourself. Oh, they dress the part of a street rat well, but the cash they have just on hand is nothing to blink at and, underneath all that grime, their skin is perfectly unmarred by the ravages of time.

Deimos: he/him, gay

Whether or not Deimos’ strength is his own or from borrowed, military-grade tech is anyone’s guess, but no one’s ever bothered to ask. Though he’s tall, he isn’t necessarily as muscular as the fear he commands would suggest. His eyes glow orange, black hair trimmed but not maintained, and his grin is enough to stop anyone in their tracks. For whatever reason, he always wears warm clothes.

Deimos is a Council dog who’s been hounding Arthur for a few years now. You’ve never officially met him; somehow whenever he drops into the office you always manage to be out. Whether that’s coincidence or because Arthur sends you out on errands very conveniently at those times it’s not for you to say. Somehow, he never seems to do too much damage to your colleague.

Adrastea: Non-binary, they/them or she/her pronouns, only attracted to nb or female mc’s

Adrastea has been voted the city’s most attractive person many years in a row now. Everything about them is perfect; perfect smile, perfect blue eyes, perfect cascading coils of iridescent hair, yet somehow despite their well-calculated appearance it’s like there’s a tiger waiting to pounce on any wary admirer who comes too close.

While not a member of the council they hold great sway simply by virtue of their age and the fact they’re so beloved by the populace. You’ve seen them on the holos, how they’re oh, so giving to the needy and even invite the commonfolk to their lavish parties all the important council members attend. It’s an act, it has to be; through their gorgeous smile and all those sheer dresses they seek nothing if not attention. A lot of their history is shrouded and deleted from public record, but you do know that they were once a head scientist that took part in the very same project that supposedly made you what you are today.

Dagda: gender variable

Dagda is the perfectly attractive face everyone sees on their screens every night. In a world of cybernetic bodies and unnaturally bright lights, they are the one person who almost looks... natural. With a perfectly cultivated appearance of salt and pepper hair, soulful brown eyes, and that winning smile, nothing about them is their own; everything they do exactly what everyone else tells them to do.

The mouthpiece of the Council, Dagda is seen to be charming and down to earth in the vids. They say Ledala is prospering more than it has in decades, that the crime rates are lowering thanks to the wonderful work they and their colleagues on the Council are doing. Of course, there always has been a certain emptiness behind their eyes. When the camera isn’t rolling, you wonder what they really think.

#lore #coi game

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roadkill01 · 3 years

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Hange/Levi (platonic) x Male Reader

All you could do was watch as the tongs came closer to your fingers, digging underneath your dirtied fingernail. A shrill scream vibrated across the bloodied stone walls as the nail was ripped from your finger. Tears streamed down your face as you begged for this torture to stop, but it was all done to no avail. You felt the blood drip down and collect at the end of your limp hand. The only sound in the room was heavy pants heard from both parties and the occasionally splash of blood against the hard stone floor. Your torturer huffed, and pushed a hand through his sweaty hair, making it slick back and stick up in odd places.

“I don’t understand why you won’t just speak. I have taken all of your finger and toenails. Your body has been burnt and lacerated. I’m not even sure how you are alive...” you wished for death though. Pleading and begging for this seemingly endless torture to stop. Tears ran down your bloodied cheeks, and your torturer brought a warm hand to your face. He swiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb, smearing the blood up your cheekbone. He moved his hand to hold the stump at the end of your ear. A month ago there was a pretty silver earring attached to it. He didn’t like how it glistened in the candlelight though, so naturally it had to go.

“You were so handsome [Name]. Such a perfect husband. Waiting patiently for me to come to you.” You didn’t understand what had come of the sweet boy you had grown up with. What had changed? Why was he forced to become such a heartless vicious man as this? The slam of a door brought you from your darkening thoughts. He had finally left. You let out cry after cry, mourning the old Eren. And wishing a peaceful death upon the new one. He had to rest. You know so much, and yet you didn’t. For just as life, Eren continued pushing on. It didn’t matter through which obstacle. The love of your life wasn’t initially put in to torture you, originally it was supposed to be Hange and Levi. Eren took it over, as you had heard from him and you’d been moved cells. Your captain and the one who thought of you as a younger brother, neither could apparently bear to do it. Nobody could. You were such a happy influence on them all, it seemed ridiculous that you were accused of being a traitor. You had been in this dreaded cell for a month now. The only person you had seen was Eren. You were the subject of inconceivable rumours when it came out that Reiner and Bertholdt were Titans. You had been close friends with the two, and frequently interacted with Annie. The survey corps couldn’t take anymore risks. You would never blame them for this. You heard clattering come from up the stairs, and wondered if Eren was home already.

What surprised you however was the concerned deep voice that called out. “Hello? Is anyone here? Please call out.” You let out a nervous greeting to the stranger followed by heavy thumping come down the stairs, almost as if someone was jumping down them. You closed your eyes and sighed, the energy immediately dispelling from your body. If you were going to die now, you would accept it graciously. You opened them once more when the owner of these footsteps stifled a gasp. You only grew curious at the sound but didn’t look over yet.

What made you look over, was when the voice called out a loud. “Hange. Your going to want to see this.” You looked over as Levi began to fiddle with the locks on the other side of the bars. You could see how is hands kept slipping and shaking. You took a shaky breath as another set of footsteps (which you guessed were Hanges) made their way downstairs. The second they saw the state you were in they took off their glasses, tears flowed down from their brown uncovered eye. “[Name]? Don’t tell me? No, no, I’m so sorry.” All you could do was watch as the bright optimistic person you’d come to known fell apart at the state you were in, and who could blame them.

You looked half dead anyway, the clothes you once wore hand been dyed a crimson with the sheer amount you had bled. There was darkened ashy skin, where Eren had burnt you, peeling away and revealing the clashing pink of exposed flesh underneath. There were chunks that had been taken out of your body, namely your arms and thighs. The finger and toenails now newly removed seeped more of the dreaded red liquid. There was just so much. A seemingly endless wave of blood. It would never stop crashing upon you and those who stood too close. With a clank the door unlocked. Levi had opted for kicking the door in instead of trying to break the lock. Hange rushed in first, immediately undoing the rough rope pulled taught against your ankles and the chair leg. Levi coming next you, to pull away the loose pieces holding your wrist down to the arm of the chair. As the ropes were pulled away, you felt as though you could finally rest now. You were saved, right? Your limp body fell forward onto Hange as Levi undid the final rope on your left wrist.

They held you up, and carried you like a baby as you clung to them. Your legs wrapped around their waist and your arms around their neck. Hange held your back and pulled you into them as they carried you up the stairs, Levi anxiously picking at his nails next to you and Hange. The pair walked through the upstairs in complete silence, not daring to utter a word. The only sound on that damned floor was the eternal dripping of your blood. As you reached the door to outside, Hange pushed your head into their neck, the sunlight would be a surprise for a man who had not seen light in a month. A small murmur was heard from you as you asked. “Are you two okay? If I die now, I need you to know I never once blamed you.” Tears unwillingly fell from their face once more and even Levi had to stifle a cry at the words.

The commander of the survey corps carrying a limp body was a sight to see, so naturally it dragged the attention of surrounding villagers. Muttering began as they realised the body belonged to you, none other than [Name] [Last Name]. A strong soldier with a future in the military brighter than Queen Historia’s hair. You had always been good to the general public, and as such they had loved you in return. The survey corps knew the amount of influence you held over these villagers, even if you did not. They loved you, because you were kind even after the unrelenting dangers of the outside, you always kept your morals no matter how difficult and helped wherever you could. A small blonde girl ran up to Hange, ignoring the cry’s of the crowd gathered, and gripped the bloodied material of your shirt. She looked up to meet the commanders eyes silently pleading that you weren’t dead. She was one of many people you had helped and as such felt indebted to you. Your joyous face whenever you returned from an expedition out the walls would make her heart soar and you would even bring flowers for some upon occasion. She had a flower now, clutched in her trembling pale hand and she thrusted it into the space between you and Hange, and dropped it. The stem was discoloured and crumped from how tightly the young girl had gripped it. Hange nodded slightly, closing their eyes before speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

“[Name] [Last Name] is not dead. Not now at least. We will get him into immediate care, and hopefully someone can tend to his injuries, as you can see they are quite severe. Do not worry though, we can keep you updated about his current condition and will tell you immediately if he does,” she began to choke up. “If he does end up dying.” A few in the crowd began to cry and others angrily shout. “Who the hell is responsible for this!” Hange looked down casted and they began to walk away, avoiding the question. If word got out that it was another scout, much less your own partner all hell would break loose and the scouts headquarters would most definitely be compromised. They would deal with Eren all in due time, and by god would he have hell to deal with.

Levi however turned to the man, and feeling nothing but absolute hatred for the former member of his squad spat out a bitter, “Eren Jeager.” Hange could punish him later, as long as justice was brought for his friend. The pair began to speed up as Hange felt your heart beat grow weaker, eventually breaking into a full blown sprint. Levi ran ahead to prepare the doctor, saying it was of the upmost importance. You and Hange eventually reached the doctor with Hange practically flinging themselves through the door and gently laid you on an unused table. The doctor was quick to rush to your side and carefully peeled off the sticky clothing, occasionally using a knife to cut parts away. With your body lying bare, both the doctor and the longest surviving members of the survey corps could fully see the damage Eren had inflicted. Hange let out a choked sob as Levi just stood, anger and disbelief evident on his face. The doctor immediately ushered the pair out the room, and pushing a piece of paper into their hands. “Find these plants, there are drawings in case you need help with identifying them.” He then pointed to the forest a whiles walk away from the doctors house. He slammed the door in their faces and got back to helping patch you up. It seems he wasn’t all talk as he helped stabilise your near death condition.

A knock at the door alerted the doctor of Hange and Levi’s arrival. He yelled at them for come in, not wanting to leave your body alone for any amount of time in case your condition would suddenly drop. The entered and the doctor set to work grinding the specific herbs and plants into a paste which he would apply to your body. Hange’s hand swiped over your newly cleaned face, you looked a lot better now that there wasn’t quite so much blood everywhere. The doctor smeared the newly made green paste on the more severe lacerations and quickly wrapped them in cloth.

“I.. I don’t know if he’ll make it out alive.” The blunt statement filled Hange and Levi’s head. You wouldn’t make it? But you were [Name] [Last Name]? The boy who kept smiling through everything? And yet as your chest rose and fell irregularly both Hange and Levi knew the chances of you living were slim.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Can I see [Name] today mama? I wanna give him flowers!” The woman looked down at her daughter and ruffled her blonde hair. “Of course honey, be back for lunch though, okay?” The girl nodded, beaming and rushed out her house, sprinting over the mismatched cobbles and up to the woods where you resided. Once she’d reached the forest, the trees split, almost as if guiding everyone who came, directly to [Name]. She ran down the rocky path, the villagers had collectively gathered to make a stone path all the way to [Name] so people can easily come and visit him. She almost tripped and dropped the flowers but a bush caught her, and she steadied herself once more. When she arrived she already saw Hange and Levi sitting by the sandstone headstone. “Ah- Mx Hange and Mr Levi, I didn’t know you were here sorry.” Hange smiled at the girl and beckoned her to come closer.

“That’s quite alright, we were just telling him we’d be back soon, we’ve got a mission coming up soon, and I can’t bring myself to not run every plan through him first.” Levi grimaced at their words, he knew they weren’t taking [Name]’s death particularly well, especially after Eren only really got off with a slap on the wrist. He would come with her, hoping they wouldn’t do anything rash especially after Moblit died. Besides, he too had come to care about the ridiculously happy [hair colour] boy in his squad. The girl came and sat by his gravestone, taking the dying flowers off the grave and putting on her fresh ones. Hange smiled at the action, glad that even if Levi and them were to die, there would at least be someone to take care of his final resting place. “I wish you the best. [Name] [Last Name]”

#aot #attack on titan #male reader #snk #snk levi #hange zöe #hange supremacy #angst?#eren yeager #sad ending #unless you want to die #I probably shouldn’t put spoilers #don’t read the tags unless you want spoilers

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teyvattherapist · 3 years

Note

you said you wrote x reader for your ocs, could you share some?

im screaming. yes??? i could?? i have SO much from full fics to drabbles to hcs. here's soulmate au with Ohm my boy. if you want smth for Sandrone lmk

tags: gn!readerxOhm, Ohm story spoilers, angst for like 2 seconds then fluff, kaeya childhood friend bless his soul, soulmate au - colour, genshin oc, reader is from somewhere other than Monstadt, implied JeanLisa

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The world had always been shades of grey for him, it had been like that for his parents too, and his brother as well. Of course to others outside of his family it meant soulmates, but the Ambros clan never did particularly follow the rules of average mortals. So he was always raised to embrace this blessing, that someday somebody would give him the favour of colour.

But then his parents were murdered, his brother stolen away, his beautiful face marred, and the world was still shades of grey, black, and white, and he knew the blood on his hands was crimson but it just looked like black ooze as he slaughtered the guilty, the innocent, and the monstrous. There was no differing colour, there was only black blood and anger.

Ohm hid his crimes as he grew up, as he signed his life away with a contract and a promise to stop the slaughter. He learned who to kill and who to spare, he learned of different paths and different meanings to life. But still no colour. Life was the same for him, day in, day out. Heal people, see who were medically fit to be a knight, occasionally break into Snezhnaya and kill some Fatui.

Of course, that all changed when he ran into a charming adventurer from out of town, literally ran into.

You fell on your ass when a tall man with an odd choice of clothing ran into you. When you opened your eyes again you were surprised. Surprised to see the colour. The man stopped, stepping backwards and in front of you once more. His hair was long and a pale purple of some kind, his eyes a dull shade of pink. He was gorgeous, even with the scars and markings that littered his visible skin.

“I apologise, Ohm Ambros.” Ohm held his hand out, a bashful smile spreading on his features as he urged you to take his gloved hand. You took his hand and with an incredible show of strength he pulled you to your feet with very little effort on your part. “I’m actually late for work, meet me at the Knights of Favonius HQ whenever you’re free.” He released your hand and just like that, the man that brought colour to your world was gone in the crowds of Mondstadt.

Ohm threw open the door to Kaeya’s office, startling the cavalry captain who spilled his inkwell onto his parchment. The navy haired captain groaned as he began to clean up the mess with a rag he had within his desk. Ohm slammed the door shut and sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. “Your hair is so blue. Your skin is such a nice shade. Oh archons.” Ohm sank further down.

Kaeya’s eye went wide, hand stilling in the air, he almost dropped the inkwell again. “You met them?! What are they like?” All care out the window Kaeya threw the inkwell down, leaning forward with excitement. “I’m so happy you can finally appreciate my true beauty, aren’t I pretty?” Kaeya tossed his hair playfully.

“Very pretty, Captain Kaeya. I have no idea I ran away.”

“I know thank yo- You ran away?” Kaeya cleared his throat to try and stop his laugh but the action was in vain as Ohm’s face turned a generous shade of red. Kaeya covered his mouth as he laughed, looking away from the pitiful medical captain who was almost on the floor he had sunk so far down the chair.

“They were breathtaking,” he started as he began to describe you to the cavalry captain. Kaeya eagerly nodded along, cheeks warm from laughing, but stomach warm from seeing his friend happy, his lilac eyes darting around the room as he took in the colours. Kaeya and Ohm had spent many moons sitting in different areas with the former describing how certain colours looked, so his ability to attribute colour despite not seeing it, was incredible, to say the least.

“Kaeya have you seen- Oh there you are. Have you finished the recruit assessments?” Jean questioned, leaning into the room but still mostly blocked by the doorway.

“Oh you’re so much more beautiful in colour wow. Is everybody we work with like this?”

“For the most part, but you should see Miss Lisa.” Kaeya sat back in his chair, grin on his face as he watched Jean’s face twist into confusion before realisation. Once more his office door hit the wall with a bang as Jean threw herself into the room. She wrapped her arms around Ohm in an awkward back hug over the chair.

“Congratulations! Who are they? Do we know them? Are they nice? They aren’t Fatui are they? I’m so happy for you. When Lisa and I first touched it was the most mesmerising moment of my life.”

Ohm lifted his hands, placing them on Jean’s forearms. “I don’t know, I don’t know! I was running late so I told them to meet me here later. I finished the recruit assessments last night, they’re on my desk. Let’s go to my office.” Jean let go and stepped back so Ohm could stand up. The two left the office and Kaeya returned to cleaning his desk.

The guards outside eyed you suspiciously as you headed up the stairs of the headquarters, being an outsider and all. But as a member of the adventurers’ guild, your clothing at least led them to letting you pass. “Hi, can you help me find somebody?” You asked the man standing guard near the staircase of the grand entrance. “He said his name was Ohm Ambros?”

He saluted diligently before nodding his head. “Medical Captain Ambros should be in his laboratory.” Captain- Your soulmate was a captain with the Knights of Favonius? “Do you need me to show you the way?” You nodded your head. “Follow me this way please.” The knight led you up the stairs and you followed close behind him. Down a hallway with multiple doors, towards the end the doors stopped until there were only two, one on each side. The largest rooms, supposedly.

The knight left and you smoothed out your clothing before knocking on the door. “Come in!” A voice called and you opened the door. Ohm was sitting on the wooden desk against the wall halfway in the room, there was a man with ashy blond hair sitting in the chair. Ohm lit up when his eyes fell on you and he pushed himself off of the desk, rising to his full height. “Ah, that’s your cue to leave, Albedo.”

“I was not done with my questioning, though.” Albedo tilted his head upwards at Ohm, the softest of frowns tugging his lips downwards. You shifted from one foot to the other but stepped further into the room nonetheless, closing the large wooden door behind you. “So back to it, the world is just black and white until you meet your soulmate? Why?”

“I don’t know why, Albedo, go ask Kaeya he probably knows something. I seem to be apologising every time we meet but here we go again, I apologise. My fellow captain is unfortunately curious.” Ohm sent a glare at Albedo who tilted his head to the side, damn him for being socially inept. “Lock the door behind you, alchemist.” Ohm walked towards you, Albedo spun in the chair, eyes wide at the fact Ohm was just leaving.

“Well then, where are you going to be taking me, Captain?”

“Already paying for dinner and I don’t even have your name, soulmates truly are a sham.” He teased with a wink. When you gave him your name he tested it on his tongue a few times. “Pretty, let’s go before Albedo starts asking more questions.” Ohm opened the door for you and the cold that radiated off of his body as he stepped into the hall behind you was pleasant. He held his elbow out to you and you slipped your arm in his.

“So tell me about yourself, I wish to know everything.” Ohm’s voice was smooth, and listening to him talk washed away any hesitation you may have had regarding soulmates. And so you started with the basics as he led you away from the headquarters and through the lovely city of Mondstadt. He listened intently, as if every word you spoke would be committed to his memory, and perhaps it would be. Occasionally he’d hum and interject with a comment or two, always related to the topic at hand.

You barely noticed the way he never spoke of himself, expertly flowing the conversation back to you or the food or how he liked things sweet, like you. He says with a charming smile and the faintest hint of a light in his eyes. His hands are cold to touch, he is cold to touch, but there is nothing more comforting than the insistent smell of mint and the chilly air and the vast amount of colours you could see because of him.

Ohm whispered the name of colours and shades, recounting the stories told to him by Kaeya, or by his parents. He says his favourite colour is the shade of your eyes and how he wants nothing more than to bask in the colour of you. Clumsy and new, Ohm is doing his best. His debt and past will catch up with him, but not now, not when he’s watching the way your eyes light up at all the colours.

#Ohm x reader #Ohm Ambros #Lane's ocs #Lane Writes #asks #anonymous #im SCREAMING #i have so much content 4 them

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greywritesfics · 4 years

Text

One Day At A Time

Overview: The moment you first saw Shinso’s performance at the first year Sports Festival set off a chain of fateful interactions and an unrequited declaration of rivalry. Now, as you stand hand in hand with your husband-to-be, you can’t help but think back to everything that brought you here.

Pairing: Shinso Hitoshi x Reader

Word Count: 3741

Genre: Scenario, Fluff

A/N: I had so much fun writing this for the POCuties Server Collab: ‘A Wedding to Remember!’ My heart went binkie boom doom. I hope you all enjoy best boi Shinso!! And thank you to @tui-lah for beta reading, I appreciate it! You can find the rest of everyone’s amazing works here.

The flowers entwined between your fingers twinge with sweat from your palms as the beating of your heart ran a mile a minute. Exhaling a breath, you briefly glanced at the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers before the double doors broke you from your reverie. On either side stood your best friend, Mina, in a beautiful gown that accentuated her figure, and Kaminari, your husband-to-be’s best friend.

Mina beamed, the black sclera of her eyes twinkling as she caught onto the small sigh of contentment that left your lips as you basked in the physique of the love of your life in a tuxedo at the end of the peddle-filled aisle. The light reflected from the vibrant bouquet, which made you look dazzling in the spotlight. Carrying on an otherworldly trance before the two left your side, not before the blonde sent you subtle thumbs up.

Facing your groom, your eyes roamed his figure, giving him a once-over. The tuxedo hugged him perfectly, highlighting his broad shoulders and slim build. The black of his suit had a velvet quality to it, and brought something out of him, a self-respecting pride and confidence that had you nibbling your bottom lip.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Bond,” you whispered with a cheeky grin. You couldn’t help yourself, Shinso looked like the perfect action man with a license to thrill. His typically messy indigo hair was slicked back, or at least tried to be, you had to give him an ‘A’ for the effort. You peaked at the tips that were haphazardly pushed back, intertwining into a beautiful chaos-- you’d fix it later into his naturally ruffled tufts.

You heard a breathy snort from the man across you. Looking up, your eyes latched onto an all-too-familiar pair of glaciers that resembled hyacinths and the lazy-smirk that had the corner of your eyes softening.

Shinso reaches out to you as soon as the one to wed you both begins to speak, his calloused hands holding yours. It’s funny actually, as you gaze at your intertwined hands and the paleness of his skin of how the two of you ended up in the aisle together, rings readied to be worn, and a life promised to spend together forever.

You remembered it like it was just yesterday.

After his fight with Midoriya during the first year Sports Festival, you left the stands to find the General Studies student in the hall. Luckily for you, you saw him in no time, the striking lavender hair and familiar U.A. uniform that he wore was hard to miss. You quickly fell into step with his languid steps.

“Shinso Hitoshi, right? I’m (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

With his ashy lilac and deeply sunken eyes, he faced you with a bored expression on his face. “Okay.”

The two of you walk in silence for at least a few minutes, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck before he speaks. “Uh--” he clears his throat a little awkwardly, “why are you following me?” It was a simple question, not one that harbored an accusing tone, and you were almost shocked by the fact that he made no effort to chase you away.

“Oh shit,” you cursed, smacking your forehead, having forgotten to announce the reason why you followed him in the first place. “My bad, dude, I can’t believe I forgot. You’re my rival.”

“What?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his pace slowing even more until they stopped.

“Rival, y’ know where two people compete for the same objective or superiority.”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “I know what a rival is, but why are you declaring that you’re mine.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. You thought that at this point, it was obvious enough for him to catch on. Maybe he was a bit slow; the bags under his eyes may have killed a couple of brain cells over the years. “‘Cause we have the same goal,” you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “We want to prove everyone who doubts us wrong.” Mich like him, growing up with an ‘evil’ Quirk, you’ve had a fair share of gossip surrounding you. That’s why you wanted to be a hero, to end the discrimination against labeling Quirks as villainous.

“Really?” he paused, “what would a student from the heroics course know about being deemed as a criminal.” One look into his eyes, and you already knew. The bitterness in his orbs was unmistakable.

“More than you know,” you murmured, refusing to break eye contact.

The mauve haired boy’s uninterested expression softened at the dispute in your eyes, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin. Looking at you properly this time, like he really saw you as a person, not just some random stranger that decided to follow him around.

“Sorry, but no,” Shinso stated, the usual indifference lacing his tone, the smile falling from his face. “I’m not looking to make friends or rivals.”

You giggled mischievously at him, the purple of his eyes side-eyeing you with weariness. “You’re cute,” you state bluntly, bouncing on the balls of your feet. His expression is replaced with a gawk at the pure boldness from you, red splotching on the apple of his cheeks. “You actually think you have a choice! See ya soon, rival!”

With that, you turn on your heel, searching for your homeless-looking homeroom teacher. You have the perfect recommendation for an intern.

“(L/N)?” he demanded, stunned by your sudden appearance.

You turned your head from your position on the floor, stretching, glancing toward his direction. “Hey, rival.” The boy looked slightly different from the last time you had seen him, with a bandage-like material wrapped around his neck, similar to Aizawa’s.

Hopping onto your feet, you brushed the dust off your hands, walking onto the mat placed in the middle of the gym as Aizawa spoke up. “Shinso, you’re training with (L/N) today. It’s a joint training to access your weaknesses, first to get knocked down or pushed off the mat loses,” he said, his expression never changing.

Bending down a bit, you prepared to make a move before the boy with lavender hair stopped you in your footsteps. “How the hell did you get Aizawa-sensei to agree to this?” he asked with an amused look in his eyes.

Smirking, you peered up through your lashes, looking at him with faux innocence. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yes, you do. At the Sports Festival, you told Aizawa about the general studies student, but Aizawa was already aware of the male since he had taken note of him. Unsurprisingly to you, your teacher decided to mentor the student, and it took a lot of bribing and coaxing for you to convince him to join just one training session, but that’s all you needed.

You stiffened immediately, your eyes glazing over as you become immobile, not even able to process or think properly. You watch the white of your rival’s teeth move, and the next thing you know, you blink, conscious, and off the mat. The stoic male wore a bored expression on his face as your eyes widen in realization, he just brainwashed you.

It was as if a match sparked over you as you glared at him. Lunging forward instantly, taking the purple-haired boy by surprise, you brought your leg up to kick him in the shin as he lost balance. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, you pounced, both arms wrapping around his torso as you tackled him, or at least tried to. It seemed that Aizawa had been training his student well because the tackle didn’t do anything besides move him backward. Quickly, you leaped back, creating a space.

The boy’s ruffled hair from his night’s sleep and current fight had strands sticking together, slick with sweat. “What, that’s all you got?” Shinso asked, but you bit back a sharp remark, refusing to take the bait again.

Failing to evade the knee that came straight for your abdomen, the impact knocked you back slightly but lacked to knock you down. You were taken aback by his speed and accuracy, and for a second, you wanted to smile at the growth of the male that stood in front of you, it was like he wasn’t the same boy that had lost to Midoriya.

Focusing on the match at hand, you dodged his next onslaught of attacks, moving efficiently to evade them with the slight knowledge of his fighting style from the Sports Festival. Thanking yourself for forcing all those hours you spent training your physical abilities, you moved forward the moment you noticed Shinso starting to take labored breaths from his never-ending assaults. However, before you could even register what was happening, Shinso loosened the material around his neck, effectively capturing you amid some ridiculously strong bandages. With the help of the capture tape, he swung you around, gathering momentum before releasing you. Before you were thrown off the mat, though, you grabbed the white scarf and pulled yourself safely in bounds.

With record speed, you raced across to meet Shinso, the capture material moving forward to shield its wielder from an attack, but you abruptly shot your arm up, tensing the male’s muscles you pushed it out of your way, continuing your route to the lilac haired male. Using your remaining strength before your sight dotted from vertigo, a drawback to your Quirk, you used both of your arms to grasp onto his, crouching you flip him over.

Falling flat on the mat, you heaved a breath and closed your eyes to regulate the spottiness surrounding you. When you heard shuffling, you peaked an eye open, pointedly-eyeing the hovering male.

“You’ve gotten better,” you commented.

Shinso let out a soft chuckle. “You’re not half bad,” he countered, crossing his arms before adding, “besides when you became a sore loser and just hopped back in here without a word.”

You gave him a non-threatening pointed look, “hey! I forgot about the brainwashing bit for a second there. Can you blame me?”

Scoffing, you took his outreached hand and pulled yourself up with his combined effort.

“I mean for a rival, that was just sad,” mused Shinso, running a hand through his hair, tufts of purple sticking out in random directions, suiting him.

The corners of your mouth lifted up into a smile, a slight stinging sensation from the cut on your lip from the fight somehow, but you didn’t care as your smile widened into a brilliant grin since Shinso finally acknowledged you. “Rival, huh?” you laughed, feeling absolutely delirious.

After Shinso acknowledged you as his rival, you both became training partners and soon enough close friends. Before either of you knew it, you were already in your second year at U.A., and your purple-haired friend had been accepted into the hero course.

You’re not exactly sure when you started developing feelings for the boy. Maybe it was the moment he exposed his perfectly aligned teeth, glowing with happiness and hope. Or it was his innate ability to spark a conversation with anyone, despite having a reserved and calm attitude. Even stating that he had no interest in making friends, yet you swiveled your way in and surrounded him with support, along with Kaminari, the greenette, Midoriya, and even the cerulean blue-eyed Monoma. Or it’s his aspiration to usurp anyone who walked the same path as him to become a Pro. Either way, there was no denying the flutters roaming around in your stomach.

As you heaved, trying to catch your breath, your exercise friend was doing the same, but talking about something, you weren’t really paying attention to his words. Just hearing his voice made your stomach tingle and your heart beat erratically in your chest so hard that it felt it’d burst. You followed the beads of sweat trickle down his face and run onto his lips, focusing how the red of his tongue would peak out to catch the salty droplets.

When your eyes met, you swore that your heart thumped so hard that it was audible, even for him. His eyes, those deep magenta orbs that could tell a whole story just by looking at them, felt like you were injected with liquid adrenaline into your bloodstream, and the entire zoo grew rampant in your chest. Shinso’s cat-like eyes felt like looking into the sun for too long-- a maze you could get lost in and soon enough be blinded by. He was so effortlessly looking handsome.

And his hands. The same slender ones that have been on you time and time again, training after training. The image of his hands brushing against your own as you walk flickers throughout your mind, growing into a daydream of your own intertwining. Suddenly you speak, “Hitoshi, I like you.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your confession, mouth ajar, and hand frozen on his capture material. The intensity of his gaze put a crack in your steely disposition as you glance the other way. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect you to say anything, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

You watched as Shinso grinned, shaking his head in disbelief, his arm rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t one to smile much, never having much reason to and the fact that it took too much effort. But every time you spoke, you somehow made the corners of his mouth tug upwards each time. You didn’t merely speak words with no meaning behind. With every word you spoke, they were curt, straight to the point, and your conversations didn’t need the time-consuming falsehood of small talk. So, it was no surprise when you bluntly admit your feelings to your crush.

Like you promised, you never forced Shinso to speak up about your confession, not once asking if he felt the same way. You guys’ relationship continued to grow without a hitch, but that never stopped you from making flirtatious remarks with the male from time to time. A cheeky grin permanently painted across your face every time you were with him.

Scrambling up to your feet, you hurriedly made your way over to him despite your aching muscles. Clasping your hands around his neck in a chock-hold, you used your legs, dropping him on the ground right then and there.

“What were you saying about beating me?” you asked, laughing in between pants.

After three years of regular quirkless and quirkful combat with Shinso, you both had improved drastically every battle with one another. It took you everything to drop him over your shoulder like before, but you collapsed on the ground next to him, panting as soon as you did.

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Shinso retorted, looking at you. Picking up on your exhaustion, he rolled over, immediately entrapping you with his weight as he grabbed both arms with his own, pinning you down.

“That’s not fair! The match was already over,” you pouted, however made no effort to push him off. He grinned, breathing out, his breath fanning over your face. It took mere seconds for him to realize the close proximity of your two faces, his own heating up, instantly taking on a rose hue. He hastily scrambled off of you, looking away as he tried to calm his face.

“Damn, I was hoping to be wrapped in your arms for longer,” you teased, whipping a fake tear delicately from your face.

He coughed at your words, choking on the water as his head snaps at you from the comment, hints of pink still present on his cheek. “Huh? Wha--”

“Relax,” you scoffed, propping yourself up with your elbows. “I’m just fucking with you.” As you made your way to your bags that were thrown onto the floor, you patted the male’s toned back as to acquiesce that everything’s alright. But before you can maneuver around him, Shinso’s hand latches itself on your wrist.

“Wait,” he murmurs, pulling you toward him. You make no move to pull away, feeling safe and secure in his arms, not the edge of intensity that comes with dancing with danger in your daily life as a hero-in-training. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning into Shinso’s embrace, even more, an affectionate smile on his face.

He tugs your cheek softly. “I like you too.” You stay silent, holding your breath as the pad of his thumb brushes against the skin he just pulled, and fingertips lightly grazing your jaw, you find yourself leaning into his palm, the ends of your lips tipping up slightly. You two focus on one another’s eyes, and all your common sense shuts down because the attention he’s giving you his startling, the vibrant violet of his orbs near closer, stealing your breath.

You brought your hands to the back of his neck, and in an instant, his lips found yours with a content sigh. Your eyes flutter shut, and even in darkness, you see light exploding. Although his movements were gentle and slow, his lips were firm, the two of you moving in perfect sync, sending shivers down your back. With each move, the blurred lines of your friendship beginning to clear, forming something new entirely. Parting your lips, you sighed as he slowly pulled away from the kiss, his lips plump and red.

Fluttering your eyes open, you find Hitoshi wearing a sweet smile on his face, filled with affection. His smile was one of happiness growing, much like spring flowers. You could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. While your heart was pounding, and your lips were still pulsing from the way he kissed you, the silly smile never fell from your face.

“Finally.”

You and Shinso have been dating for five years now, debuting and growing as Pro Heroes. As time passed, your love for him got even stronger. Whenever he looked at you, it was like every ounce of air was taken from your lungs, floating in the sky like a midnight smoke cloud. Every time your lips tangled, the world would stop, leaving just the two of you wandering the earth together. When the two of you cuddle, and he holds your face between his hands, it’s like he’s keeping you in an eternity of security.

When the two of you were patrolling the streets, you came across chaos and panicked citizens. In the distance, there were flickering flames that hinted something deadly.

“Stay near me, (Y/N), and be careful,” Hitoshi announced as you catch up to his hurried pacing, nodding in acknowledgment, walking right into the heat of battle. The scene you were met with was unlike the disarray clues you had witnessed from the running citizens earlier.

All around, you could see the burning of bright orange flames as they devoured everything in their path. Your nose scrunched up in alarm from the smell of charred concrete and ash as they dusted the air. The moment you observed your surroundings, you wished you hadn’t. You narrowed your eyes as a menacing creature hovered around a horde of panicked civilians that desperately tried to scramble away. The beast had an ugly beak head with wings and extra limbs, and bloodlust radiating out of its beady eyes. It’s what every Pro has been acquainted with, a Nomu.

“Ready?” he grunted, quickening his pace to match yours.

“Always,” you answered, reaching out an arm, and in an instant, you immobilized the Nomu-like creature grasping hold of one of the unfortunate bystanders, your boyfriend running by you with his capture scarf in tow.

You rushed over to the person ungracefully falling with its captor. Grabbing the man’s arm, you slung him over your shoulder as you hauled him to safety. The man gasped out a thank you, slumping over a wall a fair distance away from the fighting, trying to catch his breath.

When you ran back into action, you and Hitoshi captured villains, the Nomu, and protected citizens. Multiple other heroes had arrived at the scene at this point, and the creature had been dragged out of by policemen, sirens echoing down the streets.

You had been rambling to your boyfriend about your costume, mentioning that you’d need to see Hatsume soon for some upgrades, but as you glanced over at him, you recognized the far offness in his eyes.

“Hitoshi?” you ask with furrowed brows, snapping your finger in front of him.

He blinks, his hands finding purchase around your waist. He pulls you closer as he nudges his head between your neck, and you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,” he whispers into your hair. Pulling back slightly, he reaches for your hands, interlocking them. A light smile adorned your face as you looked into his unblinking dark purple eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

Now, as you stand in front of your soon to be husband, you feel the way your heartbeat picks up while your lungs fill with more air, but at the same time, you feel incredibly light. This is it. You’re seriously going to marry the love of your life.

There is so much to admire about him like his raw honesty. The way his words spill out real slow as if the truth can take its time. There’s like a force behind them, yet the kind that is respectful and quiet-- an observant and patient determination. He supports your pure, unadulterated personality, the good and bad. But of everything, it was looking in his eyes you loved the most. That’s all you ever needed to connect, just you and him, eyes, no words.

“You may now kiss.”

Shinso ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him, placing both hands on either side of your face. You two share a brief but deep kiss, yet you two are still grinning afterward as cheers from friends and families surround the two of you like magic, causing you to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.

In a world of chaos, the two of you find a place where togetherness means peace, where savage winds cease, and no clouds can block the warmth of the brightening rays.

And neither of you would want to have it any other way.

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liz-tries-to-write · 3 years

Text

Sophitz Week: Angst

A/N: This is for this second prompt for Sophitz ship week! I forgot how fun it is to write angst >:)

Pairing: Sophie x Fitz

Word Count: ~1.7k

TW: blood, death

Sophie has had many near-death experiences.

Everyone knows this; she’s constantly throwing herself in the path of danger to help other people, no matter the cost. She’s at the center of it all, which means the outcome of most things depends on her. And she’s all too willing to sacrifice herself.

Fitz has had one or two himself. The one that haunts him the most was the incident with the arthropleura, and it brings back memories of vile tea and dark spiderwebs, and the sensation of being caught between life and death.

Something all these events had in common was that no matter what, everyone was okay. Mind breaks, broken bones, shadowflux; there were so many moments where someone was teetering on the edge of death. Honestly, Sophie flirted with death more than she did Fitz. But at the end of the day, she was always safe— alive.

Looking down at his tunic soaked in Sophie’s blood, Fitz wasn’t sure that this time was going to be like rest. When he had stumbled into the Healing Centre, Sophie in his arms, Bullhorn hadn't even screamed. He had simply laid down next to her, his tiny body almost as motionless as the blonde was.

Fitz remembers Sophie’s hair spread out beneath her like a halo, her eyes closed as though she were asleep, and blood, so much blood. And that’s all he remembers before he collapses and the world fades to black.

---

The next week was a whirlwind of vials and bandages, flashing lights and sleepless nights. Fitz had recovered within a few days. Thanks to Elwin’s care, his injuries hadn’t been too serious.

But Sophie remained unconscious, and Fitz wasn’t sure if she was ever going to wake up.

The thought caused his chest to constrict, his emotions triggering the shadow flux and making it impossible to breathe. Once, Elwin had rushed over, thinking Fitz was injured, but there was nothing the physician could do except offer him a sedative. Everything Fitz was dealing with was happening internally, now that Sophie was on Death’s doorstep.

Sophie was strong, he knew that. And she had fought for her life many times before. But it was different this time, and Fitz wasn’t sure how to explain it, but some part of him knew this wasn’t going to have a happy ending.

Sighing, he stood up, fighting the waves of dizziness as he stood next to Sophie’s cot. She was deathly pale, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent against the ashiness of her skin. She lay almost completely immobile, her body still, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly. Her features were schooled into something neutral, and Fitz couldn't tell if it was an improvement from the shaking and twitching. At least before he had known that some part of her was aware of her body and reacting to the pain.

Fitz dared think she looked peaceful, now that the blood had been cleaned off and various parts of her body were neatly bandaged. Tentatively, he placed a shaking hand to Sophie’s temple, fearing her to be so fragile that she would break under his touch. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mind to hers.

Just like the last time he had entered her mind, it was dark and empty on the surface. He could feel her consciousness lingering, but it was fading day by day. “It’s me,” Fitz thought, tears welling up in his eyes. “Sophie, it’s me.”

Recently, it had been harder to see inside her head. He repeated it once more, putting a little more force behind his mental voice. With that, he felt her mental walls break down, flooding his mind with images. It was chaos. Fragments of battles, places, and people appeared before being lost in the sea of Sophie’s thoughts. Just like yesterday, the day before, and the day before that, it seemed as though Sophie’s mind was sifting through her life in random order. He saw Silveny and the twins, Lady Gisela in the blizzard, the Neverseen symbol on the arm of a cloak. More than once, he saw himself. In the past few days, he had seen his eyes staring back at him, through Sophie, more than he had in his lifetime of reflections in a mirror. Her mind was disorganized, and despite Sophie’s photographic memory, all of it was blurry. Everything sounded muffled, and it was hard to make out the words of conversations.

A few days ago, when Fitz had first checked her mind, Sophie had appeared to be replaying recent events. As the hours passed, more events were brought up, blending with fragments of images and memories. Faster than Fitz would like to have admitted, Sophie’s mind descended into confusion. After that, things had started to become quieter and out of focus. Now, Fitz felt helpless as he felt Sophie fade away from him, like grains of sand slipping through his fingers. Though he had tried, there was nothing he could do except watch as Sophie disappeared in front of him physically and mentally.

A voice startled his consciousness back to the real world, and Fitz turned around to see Elwin with fresh bandages in his hands. His hair was messier than usual, and instead of the usual fun ties he wore, this one was green. It was the same rich hue of the grass, of emeralds. The same rich hue elves wore in mourning.

“She’s still alive,” Fitz rasped, voice crackling from disuse. “She’s still in there.”

Elwin sighed. “I know, Fitz, I know. But barely.” He helped Fitz back to the chair before taking his place next to Sophie. Carefully, he unwrapped the old bandages. Fitz caught sight of burnt flesh and red welts before he had to look away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Elwin disposing of the bloodied bandages. Despite his best efforts, Fitz felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes and blinked them back.

“She’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “She has to be.” He didn't know who he was convincing more, Elwin or himself.

---

“No, Sophie, no no no.” Fitz knew he was crying, but he didn’t bother to try and hide it. “Please, Sophie. You’re stronger than this.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it was all too loud in the quiet of Sophie’s fading heartbeat.

Two more weeks had passed, and Sophie hadn’t gotten better. Fitz had finally become well enough to return home, but he spent most of his time at the Healing Centre by Sophie’s side.

Inside Sophie’s head, one memory was on replay. It was dark and out of focus, and the sound was so distorted Fitz couldn’t make out the audio. But he knew the memory Sophie had latched on to. It was that day in the San Diego Natural History Museum, when Fitz had discovered Sophie for the first time. Through Sophie’s eyes he could see himself pointing at the newspaper and gesturing towards her. He saw his face when Sophie had used telekinesis on the lamp post, when he had grabbed her hand and teleported her to the Lost Cities, and when he promised to return the next day.

In Fitz’s mind, he remembered seeing Sophie for the first time. She was surrounded by classmates, though she lingered near the back of the group. Her head was down, and he could see the cords of her earbuds through the blonde hair covering half of her face. When she looked up and met his eyes, Fitz was taken aback by her eyes. They were a warm brown, and even from a distance he could see the flecks of gold in them. They were captivating and secretive, reflecting something Fitz couldn’t quite name. He realized at that moment that if this was the girl he was looking for, he was screwed. So screwed. Because she was beautiful.

And that girl, that beautiful girl, was dying right in front of him.

With every passing second, the memory in Sophie’s mind dimmed, matching the quieting of her breaths. Her chest was rising and falling so softly Fitz could barely tell she was breathing at all. Fitz sat there, watching every one of her inhales and exhales, grasping for thin threads of hope that danced just out of his reach.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A beat, in which Sophie missed a breath and Fitz’s heart caught in his throat. Tears were falling freely now, and he intertwined his fingers with Sophie’s cold ones.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

…

Silence.

“No,” Fitz whispered. “No, no no!” His voice rose to a shout. “Elwin! Elwin!” He was yelling now, the desperation in his throat so thick he almost choked on it. “Elwin!”

Elwin came rushing into the room, his glasses askew. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Sophie,” was all Fitz managed to say.

Elwin went pale. He placed a finger on Sophie’s wrist, feeling for her pulse. He shook his head back and forth, muttering under his breath. He snapped his fingers, creating orbs of light and examining Sophie’s motionless body, his eyes glassy. Finally, he looked up, meeting Fitz’ gaze. “She’s gone,” Elwin whispered, his voice cracking on the last word.

Fitz couldn’t breathe. He felt as though someone had a hand around his ribs, crushing them. He could hear his heartbeat in his chest, its pounding filling his ears and drowning out the sounds of Elwin’s crying. Tears blurred his vision, and feeling his legs give out under him, he collapsed on the chair next to Sophie’s cot.

For a second, he was angry, angry at himself and the Neverseen and the world. She didn’t deserve what she had been through, and she didn’t deserve this ending. He felt the anger flare, threatening to consume him, but it quickly died down again, overtaken by the aching, stinging, agonizing pain and sorrow he was drowning in.

In that moment, all he wanted to hear was Sophie’s voice. He wanted to see her golden-brown eyes gazing back at him, wanted to feel the heat beneath her blushing cheeks, wanted to see her smile. But he couldn't, and he wouldn't, ever again. That girl he had fallen in love with, with her flushed cheeks and incredible mind, was gone.

Sophie Foster was gone.

tag list: @sophitz-week @steppingonshatteredglass @dragonwinnie-kotlc @enbies-and-felonies (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3)

#aaaah I thought I had already posted this oops #I think this is my longest oneshot ever #yay!!!!#kotlc ship weeks 2020 #sophitz week #fitzphie

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writernomore · 4 years

Text

Ghost of my own past

Draco x Ghost!Reader

Summary: While roaming the Hallways of Hogwarts, Draco meets a ghost that had died in Hogwarts little does he know the ghost sees things that others don’t.

This is something I had already came up with and kind of inspired with my Harry Potter Oc who died and stays in Hogwarts, But instead of making it Draco x Oc I will do it with Y/n.

You had been dead during an accident in Hogwarts, you were a death added to the deaths that had happened in Hogwarts, Y/n L/n.

You decided to become a ghost in Hogwarts not because you could see your friends, no, It was more of a bitter-sweet jealousy that burned inside of you, getting to see different students sorted into different houses grow and fulfill their lives while your here.

A mere shadow of who you were once was, Looks the same but the colors are faded and ashy wearing the clothes you died which was the Hogwarts uniform.

Clearly you thought life was really unfair because you had died early, without being able to finish your goals that you haven’t set up yet, in short you still had so much you hadn’t been able to do.

You watched students do things but never mentioned anything about what they did, you weren’t one to snitch if it wouldn’t benefit you since you were dead.

You died long ago, so mostly there would be students that were the same like the students before them.

You were roaming the halls of Hogwarts simply trying to find something to entertain you in your current state, then you spot two students, a Slytherin and a Gryffindor.

One had blonde hair wearing the Slytherin robe, While the other wore Gryffindor robes and had brown hair and glasses.

“Potter this, Potter that, It’s always you, the boy who lived famous Harry Potter.”

The Blonde one bickers to the one I assume was ‘Harry’.

“Seriously Malfoy, your being childish.”

“I’m not the one being childish, you’re the one simply being childish craving and enjoying this attention you get.”

Harry just scoffed and walked past Malfoy leaving him alone.

Malfoy was just there hands into fists, knuckles turning white as it can get on his pale skin.

You were just going to float by but what Malfoy does next stops you from doing so, The halls being empty and everyone doing their own business somewhere in the big castle, Malfoy grips his hair and drops to the ground huffing in frustration.

You float next to him and simply observe him before speaking up, surprising him causing the blonde flinch and turn around.

“You okay there?”

“Leave me alone” He says.

“I don’t think you want to be left alone ‘Malfoy’“ You say

“Oh really?” He scoffs, “Yes” You said simply.

He turns around and stares at you before standing up and brushing himself off, and then turning his heel and walking away from you, but you just float by next to him.

“Do ghosts do this often?” Draco stops walking and turns to you eyes narrowed.

“Nope”

“Then why are you following me?” He says.

“I just think you need some company” With that he just rolled his eyes and turned around continuing to go to the Slytherin dorms.

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

And as you said that you thought he needed company, you followed him when you ‘felt like it’ as you simply said when Draco got irritated when your were following him in the halls and students were staring at him confused why a ghost was following him.

While in the library you would always look over his shoulder trying to see what he was reading, there were times that he would raise the book and show you the cover and tell you a summary or what it was about, and there were times he would completely ignore or he’s just to engrossed with the book that he didn’t notice or heard what you had said.

Draco had gotten used to you slowly, yes you were kinda annoying to him but he was happy that someone was treating him much normal.

One time your were ranting towards him about something he was listening, yes but he wasn’t paying attention to what your were saying, a small smile crept up to his face finding it comforting.

And he always entrusted you with his problems and issues, You understood and listened to him without complain, you would also give him advice.

And I hate to say it but it’s like you’ve developed some feelings for Draco but you knew you never had a chance with anyone in the beginning after you decided to become a ghost, besides Draco probably never saw you other than as a ghost, listener and friend. (He hasn’t admitted the last one but you know he sees you as a friend than the friends he has close to him)

No they didn’t understand Draco like you did, but you were okay on where you are now, you’re okay on the closeness and bond you have with him.

A lot of things had happened on his time in Hogwarts, but you sticked to him all through out the way.

Then the battle of Hogwarts happened, You never saw Draco you worried for him since he probably is staying with his family at the moment you watched fighting unfold, worry getting a hold of you, literal children were fighting the war and dying.

And there he was by the side of Voldemort along with his family, you stared at him he had no choice but to follow orders.

He had no choice, he should’ve been given a choice.

Voldemort announces that Harry Potter was dead, but you knew there was more to unravel at the scene, there he was in the hands of Hagrid.

Then...

“Potter!” Draco shouts then Harry jumped off of Hagrid's arms.

“Avada-” “Expelliarmus!” Then Voldemort was disintegrating. (I don’t know how you call it but I’ll leave it at that)

The cheers and relief upon everyone was shared, the deaths of those students was not put into vain.

Draco Retrieving alongside with his mother.

But before he got to be far away, he looked back, smiled at you and waved.

You wanted to go with him, you wanted to be with him, but alas you can’t and all you did was just smile and wave back.

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

Upon years later you are still a ghost in Hogwarts, Seeing such bright faces amongst new students that arrived every year.

Then you see someone familiar, A boy with blonde hair he looked like someone you had fallen for all those years ago.

You knew Draco got married and had a child, he visited you and had a pleasent walk and talk catching up, but Draco mostly did the talking about his life.

You were just happy to be there by his side to no end.

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

I hope you guys liked this one!

I had to copy and paste the most of this story and saved it onto word cause the power went out on where I live.

Anyways, I don’t think I should put any warning cause It wasn’t that sad but anyways.

Fell free to request me for writing the fandoms I write for are just in my blog, so you guys can know.

Want to see more of my writing?

Consider giving me a follow ;)

#Harry Potter #harry potter headcanon #harry potter headers #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #draco #dracomalfoy #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #writing #angst writing

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undercoveravenger · 4 years

Text

Stone Guardian

Creature Week 2020: Day Three

Pairing: Gargoyle!Cato x Gender Neutral!Reader

Request: “Hey if I do this wrong please tell me so for creature week Cato x reader where he is a gargoyle (from French myths; they protect innocent and pure hearted people) maybe the reader was in trouble or something”

A/N: I made this one gender neutral, since the prompt didn’t seem to specify. Hope that’s okay!

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

When you'd been offered a place on your university's art department's trip to Paris, you had jumped at the opportunity. You had thought that you would’ve had to have been absolutely crazy to have missed the chance to go explore such a fascinating city, but now that you were there? Maybe staying home would have been for the better after all.

Since you had arrived in the City of Lights you’d had nothing but trouble. The airline had misplaced your luggage, though miraculously the rest of your class’ things arrived without issue, the hotel had accidentally overbooked which left you sharing a room with the one person that had been making the class less enjoyable for you, and now this.

Your class had been taking a walking tour of many of Paris’ sights, you stopped for a few seconds to tie your shoelace, and when you looked back up, your classmates and the tour guide had disappeared.

You scrambled to catch up, but found yourself quickly becoming lost in the busy streets.

Eventually you wind up facing a large brick wall, the buildings on either side of you caging you in. Great, a dead end. Just what you needed after your already awful day. You turned around to start heading back the way you’d come, but found yourself hesitating when you noticed a pair of guys lingering near the end of the alleyway you had found yourself in.

Both men were clearly in decent shape, though they were arguing loudly, their speech slurred far more than you knew French typically was. A lecherous smile crept across one of the men’s face as he caught sight of you, “Bonjour, mon ami,” he called, stumbling closer to you, his friend trailing behind him. As they approached the smell of alcohol permeated the air, the scent almost as overwhelming as your looming sense of paranoia.

You knew that you could typically hold your own in this sort of situation, but you were on your own in a foreign country. Who knew what the police would do if someone were to report you for getting into a fight.

You backed away, raising your hands in the air placatingly. “Look, I’m not here for any trouble,” you said, hoping that the drunk strangers would listen. “I just got separated from my tour group and I’m trying to find my way back.”

“I’m sure we could keep you company until your group comes back for you,” the second man spoke, a sly grin tugging at his lips.

“That’s really not necessary-” You pulled a face, wincing as your back pressed against the wall behind you; there was nowhere left to go. You closed your eyes as the men continued advancing on you.

You flinched at the sound of a sudden thump in front of you, but you chose to keep your eyes closed, knowing that, with how your day had been going so far, you probably weren’t going to like what you saw.

“I believe they asked you to be on your way.” Your brows furrowed as a third stranger’s voice echoed through the alley; it sounded like he was between you and your would-be assailants, but with you at one end of the alley and the men at the other, your savior would have had to appear out of thin air.

The men muttered their displeasure, but they turned and left with no further issue. At the sound of their departure, you finally forced your eyes open and looked at your savior.

He was tall with ashy blond hair, brows drawn low over eyes that seemed caught halfway between grey and blue. He wore dark grey pants and a lighter grey shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders. “Are you alright?” He asked softly as he cocked his head to the side, making himself look more like a confused puppy than the statuesque figure from before.

“I-” You cut yourself off, trying in vain to put your thoughts in order. “Yes, I am now. Thank you.”

The blond smiled, revealing a row of almost too-straight teeth with canines that extended just a little past what could feasibly be considered normal. “I’m glad. I try to help out good people when I can.”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowing as you glanced around. You couldn’t make out his footprints in the loose gravel, even though you could see the tracks left by you and both of the men from before. “Where did you come from?”

Your savior winced and your eyes were drawn to the odd shapes protruding up over his shoulders as they shifted. “I was nearby, so I figured I’d, er, drop in.”

“Is that so?” You were trying to keep him talking so you could try to get a better look at the strange things. “What were you up to?”

“I was just-” His eyes narrow as he notices your lack of attention, the appendages pulling tight against his back self-consciously. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not some freak show, got it?” His last words came out muffled by a quiet growl, eyes turning steely as he looked at you.

You shook your head quickly, trying to interrupt whatever his train of thought was, “No, no- It’s not that! You’re amazing.”

He looked confused and his wings fluttered unsurely, “You mean that?”

You nodded, slowly stepping closer to him cautiously. “Of course.” Your eyes widened as you got a closer look at him. You’d assumed it was the odd lighting of the alleyway casting strange shadows over him, but once you could see closer you realized that his skin was actually a pale marble. Miniscule cracks riddled the surface, years of wear having worn away bits of the stone near his joints and the edges of his wings. “I’m sorry I made you think I was afraid; I was just curious. I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

The blond’s wings relaxed a little, unfurling slightly behind him and allowing you to get a better look at them. The membrane was thinner than what seemed possible for something carved from stone, rocky veins scattered along the length of them, and the boning was jagged, worn rough from what you assume had been years of flying. “I guess that’s pretty understandable.” He let out a quiet chuckle, “I’m not used to foreigners; most Parisians know a gargoyle when they see one.”

“Gargoyle, huh?” you mused curiously. “Shouldn’t you be, like, on a church or something?”

He laughed then, a full unrestrained laugh, “Yes, I suppose I should be.” His laughter faded to a soft grin as he looked down at you, “But we’re also meant to protect the good-hearted and I could tell you were in trouble.”

“Well, I appreciate the assistance anyway,” you grinned back up at him. You opened your mouth to say something, but were interrupted by the chiming of your phone. You groaned when you checked the message, and the gargoyle seemed concerned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, brows furrowed as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, “I got separated from my tour group. They’ve just arrived at Notre Dame for the tour and realized I wasn’t there. By the time I find a taxi to take me there, I won’t even get to join the tour.”

The blond bit his lip as he thought, but he couldn’t hide the mischievous glint in his eyes when an idea struck him, “You said you needed to get to Notre Dame? Well, what if I said I could get you there quickly and even give you the behind the scenes tour?”

“That would be amazing!” You replied instinctively, awed by the kindness he had shown you thus far. “But I don’t understand- You don’t even know my name; why would you do all of this for a total stranger?”

He looked at you for a long moment before he finally spoke, “Because I can tell that I would regret not knowing you, and if I can help you, then I will.” His wings flared out behind him as he approached you and you suddenly had a sinking feeling that you knew what he meant when he told you he could get you to Notre Dame quickly. “My name is Cato, by the way,” he grinned, using your moment of distraction to sweep you off of your feet and launch the both of you up into the air, the lights of Paris sprawling out under you as Cato carried you off toward your destination.

#cato x male reader #cato x male!reader #male!reader x cato #male reader x cato #reader x cato #cato x reader #reader x hunger games #male reader x hunger games #male!reader x hunger games #hunger games reader insert #gender neutral reader insert #gender neutral!reader insert #x reader #x male reader #x male!reader #x gn!reader

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awilddreamermain · 3 years

Note

Hi, Chels! Congratulations!! I'm so happy for you! You deserve every follower and more! That is a threat, I'm holding everyone hostage 🔪

I would love to get a MHA matchup, I wanna see who you'd match me with! Got me so curious! SFW & NSFW if you'd be willing!

My name is Chloe but I prefer May, nicknames include May-May, Maybell or Chlo.

I'm 25, pronouns are she/he, Cancer Moon, Aries Sun and Virgo Rising. Quite the weird mash of zodiacs, huh?

My favorite colors are pink (that soft pastel kinda baby pink), red (especially blood/garnet red) and...can I add pink again? Any shade of pink this time. Bubblegum or hot pink.

Favorite AU's include A/B/O, Mafia, Historical, Fantasy and does Mythical Creatures count?

Oh...oh boy, I gotta look deep for some fun facts that aren't just...facts but I'll do my best!

1) My sneezes are so short and high pitched I go "chu".

2) I have vitiligo, makes me look like a dog because it's mostly around my mouth and my right eye so I have a spot!

3) I have atrocious balance, my knees and shins are always banged up because I cannot for the life of me walk correctly.

4) I have a stutter, on top of speaking so quickly it turns into a jumbled mess. So good luck understanding what I said because I have no idea either.

5) I have a growing unicorn plush collection. My favorite is Cupcake, one that's actually taller than I am. Big chunk.

My likes are pretty simple. Cute & soft sweaters, blankets, warm coffee and strawberry milk, pastries and the cold! Winter is my favorite season. History, particularly the Medieval and Victorian times.

My interests revolve around creativity and you could say they're my hobbies as well. Drawing in particular, I used to do digital but I'm stuck with traditional pencil and paper at the moment. I'm dipping my toes into painting and its very fun! Obviously writing and reading and if I'm not doing of those listed then I'm definitely playing video games.

Personality I might say I'm quite split down the middle. At first, to a complete stranger I might come across as cold, stoic, with a resting bitch face, that just wants to get whatever I'm outside for done so I can leave. I'd create a witty or sarcastic comeback if I was given sass by a Karen but with my speech issues? I'd be lucky to get one coherent word out at her...and spend the rest of the day fantasizing what could've happened. So I'm rather quiet, agoraphobia hits hard in large or crowded places so I'm an anxiety riddled mess on the verge of a panic attack. In private or with people that I'm comfortable with? Complete opposite. Happy, bubbly, cracking puns and jokes so get those groan worthy reactions. I try to be the "mom friend" and get over my issues if someone is having it worse, I'll march up to a counter and ask for ketchup if someone wanted it but was too scared to do it themselves. The shoulder to lean and cry on, I'm highly empathetic and understanding, compassionate at times. But I have to actively try and keep myself positive and say good things about myself because I do fall into the pit of self-loathing and hate.

For appearance I'd say I'm average height, pale with white splotches that are inching larger due to my vitiligo, chubby, ashy blonde, blue eyes, button nose. I'd say I'm decently cute? I don't know if I can rate myself.

Okay I know I said I'd be looking into Zodiac compatibility for this but— I literally just screamed internally "KIRISHIMA" when I was reading this. You two would be perfect omg. This Libra king would do anything for you. For this you're an artist and the daughter of a mafia boss :) I like to think of ship names sometimes so like, yours would either be like Eijmay or Mayjirou or Kiriloe— that last one and first are awful I know so lets go with the second? I can't write a proper stutter for the life of me so I tried to keep your dialogue to the minimum.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ Pairing: Eijirou Kirishima

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀AU: Mafia

⠀Theme Song: You're The One That I Want - Alex & Sierra

How you meet (his point of view):

⠀⠀The gallery was full of black and white suits, tight, floor length dresses with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses meeting his ears. It was a joyous evening, celebrating the wonderful art work created by the boss's daughter. He had never met her before but he had heard whispers, all good as no one would dare slander the name of their leader's precious little girl. You were the boss's pride and joy, thus he kept you as far away from the darker side of the family business as possible.

⠀⠀Kirishima was still a new hire, a bodyguard of sorts and would consider this his first gig. He had an idea of who he was looking for as he walked further into the mass of people admiring your work but didn't expect what he would eventually come across. You were as far away from the crowd as you possibly could be, guzzling glasses of wine and over all appearing to be a deer in headlights. He couldn't fugure out for the life of him why you seemed so frightened until he watched people approach you to talk, noticing the stutter in your voice when you replied to questions and greetings,your body language telling people to stear clear of you.

⠀⠀So, he did what he was hired to do. "Kindly step away from the lady." He said with a smile, approaching with his large arms crossing over his broad chest as he towered over the guests. They looked at him as if he were a giant shark looking to devour them before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone. He stood quietly, listening to the voices on the other side of his ear piece as his ruby eyes scanned the area around you. He made sure to not stand so close and avoided in letting his gaze wander.

⠀⠀He couldn't help but admire your skin in quick glances, finding the spot over your eye to be quite adorable. Your silky, ask blonde hair was all dolled up for the event, light make up on your face but not enough to cover the vitiligo. You were stunning and his heart hammered against his chest. So the rumors were true.

⠀⠀You thanked him, voice quiet and careful as you set down your wine glass and clasped your hands together. Out of the corner of his eye he watched you twiddle your thumbs. You didn't want to be here, did you? This obviously wasn't your idea, how could it be? A girl like you, timid as a mouse, didn't want to be surrounded by strangers. "Miss..." He began, thinking carefully because the last thing he wanted to do was piss off the boss and likely get himself killed. But this was his job wasn't it? Making sure you were happy and safe? "Would you like to leave here for a bit? We'll come back of course, but you look like you need some air."

Extra.

He ended up taking you to a drive thru restaurant and got you whatever you wanted, letting you talk about whatever you wanted or sat quietly if you chose not to talk at all If it was quiet in the suv then that was fine too, he just wanted to help you in any way he could. Eventually the silence becomes small talk and then leads to a rather deep conversation about whatever the hell was going on inside that beautiful brain of yours. Kirishima wasn't the smartest man but he wasn't stupid, he wasn't as clueless as most thought he was. You told him how your father made you do this as an attempt to get you out there, to socialize and possibly find a suitor. This was the mafia after all.

The Confession:

⠀⠀It was a tradition now, every Sunday you and Eijirou would go to your favorite café to have coffee and enjoy the early day weather before it got too hot. You sit at the same table, in the same chairs with him facing the door. You get the same drinks and food and just overall enjoy each others company. After that night at the gallery you two became fast friends, which your father obviously had to approve of but thankfully he did. Kirishima was a good man, he's trustworthy and puts you before himself.

⠀⠀The day he approached your father and asked to speak in private was the day he knew he was likely to get thrown in the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean. He has confessed his feelings for you to your old man, who listened intently with a blank face behind his desk. "Sir, I'm in love with your daughter, and with your blessing I'd like to... court her." He was utterly terrified when your father cleared his throat and sighed, shifting where he sat so he could stand and move around the desk. He reached out for a handshake which Kirishima looked up at him with a questioning look.

⠀⠀Your father gave his blessing and now... He just had to tell you, his best friend, that he loved you. God he loved you so much— "Kiri," you interrupted his thoughts, bringing him crashing back to reality," a-are you alright? You seem nervous." He swallowed hard in response but cleared his throat, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

⠀⠀"Oh yeah— definitely." He breathed with a laugh, moving a hand to the back of his neck to scratch. How was he going to say it? "So, uh—" he licked his lips, adjusting himself in his seat multiple times until he groaned and leaned forward. "Fuck, I'm just gonna say it— Maybell, I love you. I have for a long time now and I talked to your father and he said—"

⠀⠀"Said what, Eijirou?" Your eyes widened at his confession and he felt like a complete idiot. Should he had said something to you first? Was this a mistake? What if you didn't feel the same way? God his mind was going to explode—

⠀⠀"That I could... court you. With your permission." You were quick to nod and smile to his surprise, which prompted a grin if his own.

Extra.

Kirishima HAS to be facing the door in any public place you go to. I don't make the rules.

He never let's you walk close to the road, he has to be between you and it at all times when you're walking.

He oders your food and drinks for you when you can't but is there for moral support when you do. He wants you comfortable and happy. He wouldn't ever dare get in your way though, you're a lot stronger and braver than most may think you are.

The Relationship:

⠀⠀On days like this, Kirishima can't help but admire you. He catches himself staring wuite often but he just can't help it. What did he do to deserve such a beautiful partner? He looks at you and all he can think about is how much he loves you and wants to see you smile. He watched you from the kitchen island, leaning against it as you waltz around the kitchen in your pinky fuzzy slippers and one of his shirts that's much, much too big on you. He remembers your surprise when you found his clothing was actually too big on you and how happy you were.

⠀⠀"Maybell?" He hums, adjusting his stance and crossing his arms on the counter. He listened for you to him back in response, a smile on his lips. "You look so cute in my clothes.

⠀⠀You giggled, shaking your head and continued putting the dishes away until Eijirou appeared behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and his forehead coming down on your shoulder. "Need somethin' baby?" You turned your head just slightly, a brow cocked inquisitively. He squeezed you in response, swiftly lifting you and making you squeal. Thankfully you didn't have anything in your hands at the moment. He peppered kisses all over the side of your face, setting you down only to lift you again bridal style.

⠀⠀"I've got all I need right here in my arms." He chuckled and you playfully smacked his chest, letting him carry you to your shared bedroom.

Extra.

TICKLE FIGHTS.

He thinks your sneezes are the cutest thing in the world.

He loves your god awful puns, they crack him up every time.

Adores the fact you're a nurturer, especially with your friends. He thinks you'd make a great mother but if that's something you don't want he respects that.

You take care of everyone, but who takes care of you? Eijirou is always there to be your shoulder to lean and cry on, he's your sound board and is always happy to let you talk about your feelings with him. You're allowed to not be happy and bubbly all the time, he realizes how staying positive all the time can actually do more damage than goof, especially if you bottle everything up.

If on a particular day you're struggling with your speech he's happy to be your voice as well. He understands you better than anyone, even your own father.

Speaking of your father, he can't wait to make Eijirou his son-in-law! He's a good man with a good heart and treats you right, what's not to like?

He has trouble saying no to you and spoils you quite a bit.

The Fights:

...

Extra.

There's nothing, what you say goes and all he can say is "yes dear". He knows better than to argue with you, however when he's right and he knows he is, he finds a way to prove it without making you mad.

The Sex:

⠀⠀"Fuck baby—" he hissed, hands finding your hips and guiding you as you rub yourself on his cock. Your hands are on his thighs and your head is tossed back, giving him the perfect view of your tits. God he loves them, he loves the plush skin of your stomach and your thighs, your ass too, he loved seeing all of you. He was so happy that you allow him this privilege of seeing you, granted you've been dating a while now but still. Your sounds are music to his ears and all he wants is to make more, make you feel so good you're calling his name and making a mess.

He wanted— no, needed, to feel you, to feel inside your warm and wet cunt, to feel it squeeze him and milk him dry. He was quick to flip the two of you over, careful to not hurt you as he did. You gasped and giggled, reaching up to hold his face as he smiled, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He loved your taste, he could go on and on about all the things he loved about you all day if he could. "You want it baby?" You nodded excitedly, lip caught between your teeth. He smirked and reached between the two of you, thick fingers tracing a line between your lips and slipping inside your soaked pussy.

"D-Daddy—" you whine, a slight pout on your lips as your face morphs into one of pleasure. He chuckled, pumping his fingers in and out a few times before removing them and grabbing his cock. He coated it more in your slick, guiding it between tge lips of your cunt before slowly pushing inside, groaning at how tight you are. You squeal of course, gasping for breath because Kirishima is an impressive size, you still struggled to take him sometimes but like a good girl you always managed.

"That's my good girl." He cooed, moving so his forearms were on either side of your head. He gave a couple test thrusts, waiting for you to adjust u til you nodded for him to continue.

Extra.

Terrified of activating his quirk while he's fucking you, but he keeps himself under control.

He loves his hair pulled and he loves to be bitten, he especially likes it when you scratch his back when he hits that good spot.

Eats you out for his pleasure mostly, but for yours as well. He loves when you grind on his face and moan his name when you do it. Speaking of, please sit on his face, he loves that shit. He knows how to be careful of his teeth!

If you have pets they CANNOT be in the same roon when you're doing the do, it's just weird.

He'd happily bend you over in the kitchen and do you right there. Hell, he'll fuck you anywhere you deem suitable.

He likes to do a mixture if praise and degradation with you, and edging and overstimulation is a big go-to. He just loves seeing you squirm under him, hr loves hearing you beg and say you need him.

#dreamer's 800 follower event

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

Sleepless Nights

Summary: Bakugou can’t sleep ever since the brutal breakup and decides to do something about it.

Author’s Note: Here is the second story for @bnhabookclub’s Hero Camp Bingo event. The prompt I used was Betrayal. It’s been a while since I wrote a Bakugou story, so of course he became my latest victim for an angst story (lmao). Don’t worry, it does end on a good note!

As always, please enjoy!

Word Count: 2.1K+

Bakugou is restless.

Crimson eyes glare at the dark ceiling and his left arm unconsciously reaches over to hold you closer to him—splat.

A cold bedside greets his rough hand, the silky sheets bunching up in his deadly grasp. Luckily the linens are not alive, or else they would be begging for mercy. Nitroglycerin secretes on his palms without fail, seeping through the thin fabric; it will turn into an unrecognizable, ashy pile if he ignites the sweat beads. Bakugou hesitates because these sheets are your favorite.

He jostles the gray covers off his body with a vicious growl. Bakugou forgot you aren’t sleeping with him anymore after what happened three weeks ago. Grudgingly sitting up, he slams his back against the headboard. Bakugou shoves his face into his rough hands and grits his teeth as he remembers that unfortunate night—damn his stupid mouth.

Bakugou breathes through his nose and reaches to turn on his lamp. The dim yellow light partially illuminates his face, but fails to brighten the darkness swirling inside his heart. He’s broken and wallowing in his despair. Both fists curl until his nails dangerously dig into his skin, a small trickle of blood oozing out that makes him curse, “Fucking hell.”

His bed groans as Bakugou gets off and trudges out the bedroom to find the first-aid kit. He annoyingly rummages through the bathroom’s cabinets, your face mask packets spilling out on the floor. The woman’s perky fake smile irritates him to no end, his right eye twitching nonstop. Bakugou aggressively shoves them back inside as he yells, “What are you so damn happy about, idiot?!”

The cabinet door cracks after he slams it with brute force; a staggered breath escapes his mouth as he grips the sink’s edge, ignoring the sting from the fresh wounds. Bakugou lifts his head until he stares at his heated reflection. Bloodshot irises glare back at him, his ashy blonde hair even more disheveled than usual. A blue kit sticks out like a sore thumb, and Bakugou snatches it; he freezes when he reads the words “Blasty’s First Aid Kit” affectionately written across the cover.

A gut-wrenching punch attacks him without warning. Growling, he shuts the light off and storms to the living room. Bakugou tosses the kit on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch to get this shit over with. He carelessly rips the alcoholic wipe’s package, tasting the bitter flavor now burning his tongue and hissing when he rubs the napkin on his bloody scratch.

Unraveling the gauze, Bakugou realizes something is off. He hears no laughter or snarky comment coming at him. Ironically, the living room feels dead; it’s as if someone came in with a vacuum and sucked out any hint of warmth in this place. The blonde man glances at his palm with a frown. Usually, you’re the one tending to his wounds while scolding at him for his reckless behavior. He pretends to hate it, but deep down, he appreciates how much you love him.

Bakugou wishes he’d done the same for you that night.

“Babe, I’m home!” You kick off your shoes near the front door. A hand massages your neck as you crave for a nice, hot bath to soothe your sore muscles; work has been a pain in the butt lately. Once the keys fall in the bowl, you realize how everything is eerily quiet. There’s no ruckus coming from the kitchen or a delicious smell greeting you by the entrance.

You raise a curious eyebrow and walk down the hallway. Each step grows more burdensome, the floor creaking under your tense weight. Turning the corner, you see your boyfriend sitting on the couch. He’s hunched over as his fingers anxiously twiddle above his knees. Despite looking down, you notice the permanent scowl on his face and become worried, “Katsuki?”

“You’re an hour late,” he grumbles, still not looking up.

“I got held up at the office,” you cautiously approach to the brutish man with a slight frown. The black bag settles on the coffee table, “There was so much paperwork to get done before the deadline. I also needed to help out Shimizu—”

“Can’t that dumbass ask someone else?!” Bakugou barks like a mad dog, his heated eyes glaring straight at you. They catch you off guard, “Aren’t there other extras at your damn agency who can help? Or do you love spending time with him, huh?”

You seethe, “What the hell is your problem, Katsuki? He’s the new sidekick, and my boss assigned me to show him the ropes. Nothing is happening between us, so calm the fuck down!”

“Like I fucking believe that!” Bakugou shoots up from his spot, the ground shaking from his harsh stomps, “Why does he keep calling you after work-hours? Why is he always so close to you while you two are out on patrol?”

“Oh my gosh, this again?!” You exasperatedly throw your hands over your head. “Are we really gonna argue about this shit? Katsuki,” you march closer to him, pinching your nose for a quick second, “For the millionth time: Nothing. Is. Happening. Between. Us! Why don’t you believe me?!”

Bakugou scoffs, and a flash of irritation crosses your face, “What do you want me to do, huh, Katsuki? Do you want me to quit my job—”

“Fuck yeah I do!” He interrupts, making your mouth fall in astonishment. Did your ears hear those words correctly? His mouth starts running on its own, “At least it will give me some peace of mind knowing you’re not screwing around with him behind my back—”

Bakugou freezes when a harsh slap strikes his cheek.

Tears well up in your mortified eyes. It’s unclear whether they are like this because of his offensive words or the fact you laid a hand on him. Either way, you back away from the stunned pro hero. The hand that delivered the blow continues to shake uncontrollably; you bring it closer to your chest. Bakugou finally comes to his senses and blinks his pale eyes at you.

After the shock subsides, you furiously jab a finger at him, screeching, “How dare you accuse me of doing something like that! How dare you accuse me of cheating on you when all I ever did was love you!”

“Wait!” Bakugou stumbles over his feet, and you stagger backward, “Shit, no. I-I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t!” The razor-sharp tone cuts through with as much strength as Kirishima’s hardening quirk. Bakugou stops in his tracks. Your body quivers with tears raining down to your chin, “Don’t apologize…don’t come after me…we’re through.”

The last thing Bakugou hears is the front door loudly slam behind you; he’s sure everyone in Japan heard it. And the first thing he feels after you’re gone is his broken heart wallowing in pure agony.

Bakugou punches the cushion, muffling down a cry trying to escape his lips. He’s living in a nightmare that never ends. The bitter breakup constantly replays in his mind, haunting his thoughts. It reminds him of how pathetic his life is right now. Every morning he notices the tear stains getting larger on his pillowcase, and every night, before going to bed, he feels the emptiness expanding on his right side.

His bed is now just cold, unwelcoming, and unnecessarily giant—he hates it.

Bakugou rushes back to his room, randomly picking a pair of gray sweatpants and putting them on. The lamp’s light barely helps him as he searches for his black sweater; it lounges on his chair, and the hero hurriedly pulls the hoodie over his head. The last thing he grabs is his keys and phone before exiting his apartment. After suffering in this hell hole for three weeks, he’s desperate for an escape.

Fortunately, the weather is tolerable for his late-night journey. However, he would trudge through anything—heavy rain, typhoon-like winds, massive snowbanks—to get to you. In his mind and heart, Bakugou knows he needs to make things right with you. Sure, you two fight and argue, but it never goes too far except for that regrettable night; he crossed a line. You are the best thing in his life, and he foolishly let your relationship slip through his fingers like sand. Bakugou needs you, and for once, he’ll push his bloated pride aside to beg for your forgiveness.

But first, he has the find you. It won’t be an easy feat considering you could be anywhere; he figures you’re staying at a friend’s apartment, and Bakugou accepts the fact it will be a long night. Pulling the dark hood over his head, he shoves his hands inside the pockets and treks down the bare streets to begin his journey.

The first two stops are a complete miss. One friend answers the door with droopy eyes and a roaring yawn—she has no idea where you are. The second friend scratches his wild bed hair; he’s so tired that he accidentally calls Bakugou “Shadow Dude” and shakes his head when asked if you’re staying in his apartment. Bakugou wonders if both your friends lied to him, but he gives them the benefit of the doubt and picks up the pace.

He arrives at the next apartment, praying that you’re here. Third time’s the charm, right?

Climbing the never-ending stairs, he finally reaches the fourth floor. Bakugou’s eyes bounce until they land on the correct apartment number. With a deep sigh, he knocks on the door a couple of times, hoping it’s loud enough to wake up your friend; the hero stops after no one answers him. His forehead softly hits on the door, a muffled thud echoing around him. Just as Bakugou turns around, the door creaks, and a faint voice stops him in his tracks, “K-Katsuki?”

Wobbling by the door with confused eyes is you; Bakugou’s breath hitches as his stance falters. He wonders if you’re just a figment of his imagination that will disappear in a blink of an eye. When you don’t, he slowly steps forward as if he’s walking on thin ice, putting the hood down. Your vision finally adjusts to the dim light shining in the hallway, and Bakugou whispers, “Hey…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep…”

“That makes two of us,” you mumble and lean against the doorframe. Despite this, your cold glare forces the hero to stay in place, “I’m still upset with you.”

“I know,” Bakugou lowers his head in shame. You glance at his bandaged hands, and your scowl softens at his lousy attempt to fix the wounds. Did he injure himself again? Bakugou rakes one hand through his messy hair, “What I said to you wasn’t right; I know you would never betray my trust, but I let my stupid jealousy cloud my damn thoughts. I’m a fucking idiot with a big ass mouth.”

You swallow a small gulp, “Yeah, you are.”

Bakugou tests the water by taking another step. This time you don’t say anything to stop him, and he takes it as a sign to get closer. Unconsciously, you cross your arms over your chest and gaze at your purple slippers shuffling on the cold tile floor. Your heart pounds like a jackhammer as the electricity buzzes impatiently in the thick air.

A dark shadow looms over your personal space. You hesitate to raise your head, but Bakugou’s warmth radiating off his body convinces you otherwise; he leaves only a slight gap between you two. Now that Bakugou is close, you notice the deep anguish whirling through his eyes; it’s like staring at your own reflection—a shudder runs down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, shutting his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much with my ignorant ass. You mean so much to me that I can’t take another second sleeping in that bed alone. I fucking miss you…”

Bakugou’s hands slide up your jittery arms, reawakening the spark that almost died inside you. He pleads like a desperate man, “Please give me a second chance…I love you too much to have you out of my life.”

Two arms instantly circle his neck, clinging onto him like no tomorrow. Your quiet sniffles reach his right ear, and Bakugou hugs you tighter in his warm embrace. Ghostly kisses pepper down your face until he captures your lips and pours his entire heart and soul into you. Delicate fingers run through his ashy hair and give it a soft tug as you smile against his lips, “I hate how much I love you, Blasty.”

A chuckle rumbles through his chest.

“Now c’mon,” you pull him inside the apartment, guiding the hero to your room, “We both need to catch up on our beauty sleep.”

Bakugou agrees with a soft grunt.

Climbing into bed together, you two finally fall soundly asleep in each other’s arms for the first time since the breakup.

And that’s the second prompt crossed off from this bingo card! Which once will be next? Stay tune!

Previous Prompt: Adopt a Pet

Thanks for reading!!

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #bnhabookclub #bnha x reader #hero camp bingo #betrayal #angst

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Under The Bed / Chapter One, “Josie”

ABOUT: Josie Stephens was having a hard enough time at her mere age of five, having to start Kindergarten and move to a new house. Little did she know that it all would get a lot worse that first night when a monster popped out from under her bed, changing her life forever. Inspired by the 1989 movie, Little Monsters, one of my childhood favorites, I began this story in 2016 and recently fell back in love with it.

-> SERIES MASTERLIST

-> MAIN MASTERLIST

-> READ ON WATTPAD

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 4k words

TAGLIST: IDK HOW TO DO THESE, BUT IF YOU WANNA BE ADDED SO YOU KNOW WHEN A NEW CHAPTER IS POSTED, JUST LET ME KNOW! :)

@berrynarrybanana

@wotamelonsugar

SNEAK PEEK OF COURSE ->

“He remains quiet, and when his neon green irises dart away from me, I know that something is up.

NOW

Leaves ranging every shade of red and orange blow around me and settle on the cracked sidewalk. They crunch under my scuffed and dirty high tops as I walk fast around the corner, waiting for my cream house to come into view. Cars and school buses whiz past me, and I hear a barking dog a few blocks away.

I take two steps at a time up the walkway and then on the stairs to the porch, the porch swing in front of the window swaying slightly in the wind. It suddenly stops as I approach, but I don't give it another thought as I pick up the heavy orange potted plant next to the door to find the plate it sits on. The plain silver key sits there catching the sun's light, where I left it yesterday, because my copy has been missing for months. I only wonder who could have done that. Grabbing it, I stick it into the door and give a twist before placing the key back under the pot, like any other day.

The house is silent and dark when I step inside. I flick on the light and the living room is awash in light as I toe off my shoes, warm sunlight pouring in from the open door until it slams shut suddenly. My head flies up and I look around quickly, taking a deep breath and after a minute, I decide it was just the wind. Dropping my heavy backpack at the end of the stairway around the corner, I walk through the living room and into the kitchen against the back of the house.

I push open my ajar bedroom door with my foot, leaving my backpack at the door. The sun peeks into my room from the left, coming in through the hastily pulled drapes above my desk. I choose my steps carefully amidst the mess of clothes flung haphazardly across the floor, and others falling out of the open duffle bag sitting by my desk. Falling onto my bed, I click on the TV and bring my crustless PB&J to my lips. Crumbs litter my lap and covers as I watch the rest of an episode of Bones, a rerun but a good one nonetheless.

After awhile with crumbs clinging to my shirt sleeves and sticky peanut butter fingers, I drag my feet over to my desk and get started on my homework. Music trickles from the bluetooth speaker sat at the corner of my desk. I scribble answers in the blanks on the worksheet, turning it over and groaning at all of the questions waiting for me on the back. Peeling my eyes away from the history worksheet, my eyes lift to the gently open blinds. There’s the sliver of outside visible through them, and what really catches my eye - the sun setting on the horizon. My heart does a jump at the sight of it, and I look over my shoulder before I can stop myself. I automatically look to my bed, and the emptiness and scuffed wooden floor underneath it.

With an impatient sigh, I back to my homework with a sullen face. Skipping the next song, I flip the page of my textbook and move on to the next question. I just want to get this shit done already. Who knew it could take so long to find the answers to questions about The Constitution. Yet, more than anything, I try to stay busy. After awhile and two Vampire Weekend albums later, I stuff every single textbook and mechanical pencil away in my backpack.

"Josie, did you hear me? Dinner's ready, come on!" Dad calls up the stairs to me, and I zip one last zipper before yelling 'coming!' and getting to my feet. Opening the door, I step a foot into the hallway and search for my bedroom light with a wandering hand. Something out of the corner of my eye moves, and I look around until I notice the comforter hanging over my bed flutters upwards again. I flick off the light and the room is sent into darkness, before I head downstairs.

Wiping the dot of fudge from my lip, I take my time walking up the stairs. The murmur of my parents voices melts together into a background noise as a soft darkness covers the staircase. When I look up to the top of the landing, something stands out from the dark, and my heart does a somersault. A bar of light peeks out from the bottom of my closed bedroom door, and I hear sounds trickling from my bedroom. When I set my foot down on the next stair, a long creeeeeak peels out and the noises cease. The light flickers off and it's silent once again. I lift my foot off the creaky step and walk up another stair, wanting to take them two at a time, but I don't. I try to slow down, no matter how fast I want to go right now, forgetting the fact that I want to run in there right now.

I push open the door slowly, hearing it's long creak before its little clunk when it hits the wall. My hand runs over the wall until I find the light switch and flip it upwards, bathing the room in light. My backpack still sits open by my desk. My laptop is open, but the screen is dark next to my dormant desk lamp. My bed is a mess of wrinkly covers, albeit a dip in my pillows where I sat earlier. Oddly enough, there's another dip at the head of my bed that pulls my eyebrows down into a question. It also yanks my lips up to pinch my cheeks with a smile.

A scuffle pricks my ears, and I look around, confused. First, to underneath my bed where it sounds like it had come from, but the sound is gone as quick as it had happened. My lips set into a frown as I turn and take another look, and when I'm facing my door a loud 'boo!' almost scares me off my feet. I jump back and feel myself start to fall, and luckily, my bed catches me.

"Ugh! You don't have to do that just because you're a monster!" I huff, sitting up and laying my eyes upon the giggling guy in front of me.

"Wha', why not? 's me favorite, it gets ya every time!" he squeals in excitement, and I have to hold myself back from rolling my eyes. That becomes the least of my worries when everything blurs and I'm pushed onto my back. "Hiiiiiiiya, goose! I thought it was you I heard on da stairs, but had t' make sure. Smelled ya when ya walked in, y’know. I knew it was you cuz ya smell like berries and cream," he says as he lies dead weight on top of me. I laugh and hear his silly one in return.

"You'd think you'd be lighter for being- you know, nonhuman, but you definitely aren't."

"Tha's no way t' greet me afta not seein’ eachuther for days. That was rude, goose. Think ya need t' be shown a lesson, you do,” he scoffs and I watch his lips fall into an exaggerrated pout.

"No no no, please don’t!"

"Oh, yes!" he laughs evilly, and I feel it start. It doesn't look like it, but he's strong. Dammit, is he. "Waitin' up here fer tha last half hour for you, thought I was two sweet seconds from gettin' caught fer tha first time in . . ever, and ya call me fat. Tsk tsk, think ya needa lesson taught t' ya," he says, clucking his tongue in the middle of my shrieks and laughs.

"NOOOOOO, WAIT! YOU’RE GONNA!" I shriek in between laughs and desperate pleas for him to stop. His long and quick fingers continue to poke and prod at my ribs, dancing along my stomach and wandering to my armpits, every now and then. Sweat builds on my brow as I flail and squirm, trying to kick him and hit him, but he's expecting that. He knows.

"Josie! What's going on up there?" the loud voice of my dad booms up the stairs, and his movements come to an abrupt stop. His crazy green irises framed by yellow tinged scleras grow wide and alert before darting around.

"Fuck, no. Not yer parents," he whispers fast, and in a blink, his weight from on top of me is gone. My lungs are spewing tiny thank you's, but when I look around, he's gone. There's that same scuffle again and my bed lifts to fall back down a second later.

The old bead necklaces around my door handle slide back and forth when the door opens. My dad's towering figure stands in the doorway and quickly, his hands fall onto his hips in a question while he looks around my room. "I heard yelling up here, what's going on? Are you okay?" the words fall from his thin lips fast, his brown eyes staring back at me while his frown is hard to see through his thick beard. I swing my legs over the bed and face him with a nervous gulp.

"I'm fine, Dad. I was just uh, watching something on TV and the volume was really loud.I'm sorry."

"Hmmm, I could've sworn . . . ," he begins but he waves his hand, his old gold watch falling down his hand along with his wedding ring catching the light. "You just um, try to keep it down up here, sound good?" he finishes with a little smile.

"Yeah, Dad, of course," I reply, and his gelled back ashy blonde hair moves as he nods. I feel a tug on the bottom of my jeans, and I reply with a kick of my foot.

"Okay, well . . ," my dad trails off with a shrug of his shoulders. He then forces an awkward smile before turning around to leave. There's a sharp pinch on my ankle and I wince before giving another kick, and hearing an 'ouch!' I cough quickly to cover it up, sighing when my dad doesn't turn around and walks down the stairs.

"You idiot!" I exclaim under my breath, jumping off my bed and hurrying across my room to close the door.

"How come 'm tha idiot here? I don' remember bein' tha one screamin' her bloody lungs out, now was I?" I scoff as the door meets the hinges and I turn to watch him sliding out from beneath my bed. His sickly pale hand the lightest shade of blue hangs onto the edge of my bed that’s propped up in the air.

He gets to his feet and it falls back to the floor slowly and without a sound, just like every other time. Only a scuffle. He just smirks, his yellow but perfect teeth showing behind his sly smile. My hair moves with my shaking head as I sit back down on the bed, his tall figure moving towards me out of the corner of my eye.

"I dunno why ya don' enjoy me tickles, they're fun. 'm good at it. Y’know 'm quite givin’, could be loads worse, Jose," he comments matter of factly. His shoulder knocks against mine, and he pushes me over to make room to sit down next tome. I bump shoulders back, but he hardly moves. Figures. "Jus' be lucky ya don' have tha tickle monster under yer bed 'stead, love."

"Sureee," I say, falling back to lie on my bed. There's a little poof and the mattress bounces when he lands next to me.

"Rememba when ya first put up those stupid plastic stars. Thought ya were a bloody genius, you were," he smirks beside me, our elbows knocking against each others. I feel his right shoe nudge against my foot and I kick it off the bed. "Hell, babe! Wha's yer problemo t’night? Wha', ya not miss me, Jose?" My eyes remain on the ceiling, and on the chipped, peeling glow in the dark stars stuck there in an array of sizes and arrangement. Their opaque white color has turned a slight yellow during their age, but his hand pops right in front of my face to block my view of them. It goes back and forth, and finally, I catch it and push it away.

"C'mon, goose, talk t' me. Hate it when yer quiet, makes this no fun."

"That's just it, Harry!" I retort, sitting up and looking to my right to find him lying there on his side looking up at me, confused. His mussy brown curls are crazy once again and swept over his forehead. A few of his sky blue, oblong freckles that cover his body poke out from his fringe of dark hair.

"Wha's just it? 'm not one o’ them monsters who can read minds, Jose, not some jinn or those bloody bogus fortune tellers you lot put so much worth in," he mutters curtly, tsking quietly, thinking I can't hear it, but he's one of the loudest monsters I know. Possibly the only one, but still.

" . . You didn't come last night."

He remains quiet, and when his neon green irises dart away from me, I know that something is up.

He may be a monster, but I can read him better than any human I know. His long pale fingers dotted with those blue freckles picks at a hole in my comforter, head bowed and two little mustard colored horns poking out from his mess of hair with one on the left, and one on the right. "I didn't think ya'd be home from yer gram's 'till like, this mornin', like ya said," he reveals with a heavy huff holding a hint of an animal-like sound to it, catching me off guard and tearing away any kind of response I had ready. "But, I popped in 'round quarter afta four, afta gettin' done at Ronny Snooker's house, and found ya all curled up like a toasty lil' burrito. Wanted t’ wake ya, trust me I did, but I knew I shouldn't cuz ya'd get all angry at me fer wakin' you an' I hate it when yer mad at me. Can' handle it."

". . I shouldn't even be talking then," I speak up, and his head of curls lifts, letting me find those magical eyes past those long-ass eyelashes. If every monster has eyelashes those long, I fricken swear.

"No, 's not yer fault, Jose. Jus' a teenie tiny misunderstandin’, 's all."

"I did miss you, though. I mean, I guess."

"Ha! I knew it, just had tha feelin’," Harry smirks, his ghostly lips spreading high and wide, and almost up to his eyes. Dark dimples fall into his chiseled cheeks as he whispers an 'aha!' and then, all of a sudden, his wiry stony arms are around me. "Ya miss me, ya miss me, now ya gotta kiss me!"

"I don't think that's how it goes," I get out in between the middle of tight hugs enclosed in his stiff arms, as his familiar musty smell comes over me. It’s like an old basement.

My favorite smell.

"Sure, it does. I know what 'm talkin' 'bout, gotta respect yer elder, goose," he insists, and when I look up at him, he's still grinning. Soon, it falls into a pensive line, and the nostrils of his big pointy nose flare. And sure enough, he sniffs me. "Wha's that I smell on ya?"

"What the hell, Harry?"

"Ya smell like . . Smell like peanut butter, love. Thought you lot ran out last week, like ya said," he says quickly, the words leaving his devilish lips at light speed.

Oh no.

His thick eyebrows hike up his forehead as he sniffs around me fervently, only making me giggle and giving me a tickle. "Oh, ya think 's so funny, do ya? Don' like it when ya tell me lies, goose, an' you know jus’ how much peanut butta 's me favorite. You silly goose, you." He raises a finger and wiggles it at me, giving me a glimpse of his short dirty nails.

"Okay, Okay, I'm sorry! Mom brought home some the other night, like a big tub from Costco. But, Harry, you can't eat it all this time!"

"An' why bloody not?" he replies, annoyed. His dark unruly eyebrows come together and down in a furrow.

"Because! I got blamed for it the last time, like you always seem to do!"

"Dunno wha' yer talkin' 'bout. 'd never be such a big meanie an' blame sumthin' on ya like that," he smirks, and I push him off of me, getting up and walking over to the black dresser sat against the wall by my door. "What, 'm I s'posed t' do, Josie? Y’know I got this love for peanut butta I can' control."

"You can say that again," I mutter, opening one of the drawers of my dresser and rifling through my clothes

I hear him tsk tsk from behind me, and a squeak from the mattress follows in suit. When I glance over my shoulder at him, he's lying on the left side with his hands behind his head, getting all comfy. Rolling my eyes, I grab a t-shirt and pajama bottoms at random to change into for the night.

"But, I don't know, Harry. Don't they have peanut butter down there?"

"No, I’ve already told you this how many bloody times?! Ni's allergic or summat, tha bloody weirdo, so he neva let's me within like, a mile radius of it. He’s afraid 'm gonn' kill him or summat, even though tha's impossible. Dunno how he can be allergic t' sumthin' so bleedin' delicious. 's rubbish, 's what it 's," Harry says, shaking his head which I laugh at. His eyes drag over to me and he leers at me before shaking it again with his lips pressed into a disapproving line. "Talk it up, Jose. You try bein' a monster for a day."

"I would, if you'd let me," I say quietly. Walking across the room, I slip into my closet,shutting the door behind me.

"Don' even ge'mme started, you li’l shit. Ya think I dunno what yer gettin' at, d’ya?"

"Hey! Be nice to me, and what ever happened to trying not swearing around me? I thought you said it was 'unbecomin’ o’ me t’ swear ‘round you’ and all that," I yell through the door, turning my back as I slip off my clothes to change into the others sitting at my feet.

"Ya, that lasted 'til you were 'bout I dunno, ten, goosie. 's like me vocabulary, I can' help it. I mean, God, ya should hear Ly’ swear - he curses like a friggin' fairy. But, don't tell him that cuz he'd kick me in tha jewels if he heard me compare him t’ a fairy. I mean, ya wouldn' think they're capable o' cursin' - those fairies with that teeny tiny body o' theirs, but boy, oh boy. do they. ‘m quite envious of his swearin’, tho’, if I do say meself."

"I know, I remember. You taught me my first swear words, my parents were horrified when I said 'shit' for the first time. When was it again? Oh yeah, that day in fourth grade when I fell learning how to roller blade," I giggle in return, sliding on the pair of plaid pajama pants, tying the strings at the waist. "And, how would I tell Ly’ anyways when you won't let me meet him?"

"They should be lucky I didn' start ya sooner, but ya, one o' tha proudest moments o’ me damned life," he sighs happily as I walk out of the closet splaying my caramel blonde hair over my shoulders. I try to ignore that he dodged the second part of my sentence. Now, I'm rolling my eyes as I walk to the door and flick off the light, soon joining him and his fake crying on my bed.

Curling up under the covers, my bedside lamp lights his features as he stares up at the ceiling, thinking. Thinking about what, I don't know, but I'm curious. "What do monsters think about, Harry?"

"Y’know . . I rememba tha first time ya asked me that when ya were- what, five? Jus' came home from yer second or third week o’ school an' asked me it. Suddenly, yer in Kindiegarten and ya think yer such a hoot."

"Well, I don't remember what you said then, considering it was almost thirteen years ago, so please, do enlighten me," I joke, and the single dimple in the middle of each of his cheeks falls down when a smile bends his lips upwards. Who knew a monster could have dimples, or be so cute.

"Okie dokie, smartass, well 's not real different from you humans. Y’know, think 'bout food and things we wanna do," he answers me, turning his head and looking me in the eyes. Yellow smile falling and dimples slowly disappearing. He raises his eyebrows at me, only to wiggle them a second later, making me giggle.

He almost scoffs, biting his tongue as his head of curls goes from side to side. I murmur a dumbfounded 'what,’ earning me a shrug of his bony shoulders in return. "Dunno, missed yer laugh, I guess. Don' hear 'em often when yer not 'round. Well, not happy ones, that is," he tells me, giving me a cheesy smile showing no teeth. I sigh and move closer to him, my forehead just missing his shoulder by a centimeter. His calming musty smell walks up my nose, and I close my eyes with a happy smile.

"What did you do while I was gone?"

"A whole lotta nothin'," Harry hums in reply, and I feel the hard tips of his fingers on my scalp stroking at my hair. "Jus' went 'round me business scarin' tha other kiddies in town. Ronny, Daisy, the redhead, and the new little tot on Willow Street. They're pretty easy, 'cept Ronny, he's such a li’l shit, ugh. Did I tell ya I took all tha air outta his bike tires, and drank his chocolate milk that was s'posed t' be for lunch tha next day?"

"No," I giggle, moving closer to him and finding his shoulder and the soft holey fabric of his pitch black t-shirt.

"Ah damn, it was a hoot. Wish I coulda been there tha next mornin' t' see his face. Tha li’l devil deserved it, he gave me a right bruise on me shin kickin' me when I popped in tha other night," he huffs, making a funny sound with his lips. “That kid can't grow up soon enough. Hell, 'm almost tempted t; make it seem like 'm a ghost hauntin’ their house, so they'd move tha fook out an' I don' hafta deal with him anymo'."

A chuckle falls from my lips as my eyes remain closed and I breathe in his smell. Oh, how I missed you. "Ya fallin' 'sleep on me already, Jose? 's hardly nine o'clock, 'm disappointed in you."

"I'm tired, and I have school tomorrow," I whine, hiking the covers up my shoulders with a groan when they don't come easily. The bed moves and the comforter goes up smoothly, making me open my eyes to find his nimble, pale hands draping it over me. He gives me a smile before lying back down and replacing his hand in my hair, going back to lulling me to sleep playing with it.

"Oh ya, yer a big ol' senior now, hmph," he clucks, ending it with a final sigh. "Fine, I guess ya can go t' bed. But, we gotta catch up one o' these nights 'bout yer trip t’ yer gram's. Ya betta have saved me some o' her butterscotch cookies, or 'm not gonna be too happy with you, goosie. And, I was searchin' real hard for where I hid yer house key, almost thought 'd found it, but I dunno." I hum a sleepy 'okay' as I close my eyes again, grunting in frustration as I try to find his shoulder again. His lovely giggle touches my ears and I find him not long after with a huff.

"Funny li’l thing, you are. Now go t' bed, ya sleepy bones. An' try not t' snore, will ya? I mean, 's awfully cute, but it interrupts me readin'. Gotta see what you lot are readin' this year an' catch up t' ya," he jests, and I shove him with a small groan.

His squeaky laugh leaves his devilish lips, hanging there for a small second. "Alrighty then, go t’ sleep, you. Have tha sweetest o' dreams, goose. Oh, and don' let tha beddy bugs bite."

23 notes · View notes

tsukishima44 · 5 years

Text

Promise Me

"Abeno!"

"Abeno-san!!"

Zenko and Ashiya rushed to their friend's body, lying on the grass. Zenko stood beside Ashiya, while the employee tried to rouse his employer with no avail.

or the missing scene from episode 8 of Fukigen no Mononokean (SPOILER ALERT)

"Abeno!"

"Abeno-san!!"

Zenko and Ashiya rushed to their friend's body, lying on the grass. Zenko stood beside Ashiya, while the employee tried to rouse his employer with no avail. His face was pale with worry for his collapsed friend. With trembling hands Ashiya placed the tip of his fingertips to Abeno's neck, hoping to feel the thud of a pulse. He didn't care if Abeno complained about his cold and sweaty hands. He would even be happy his usually cold employer scold him. He wasn't used to seeing Abeno in his vulnerable state like this.

After several minutes, his numb-from-stress fingers finally felt Abeno's sign of life. Ashiya gave a sounding sigh which gave his other friend a big relieve too. Then Ashiya and Zenko looked at each other and nodded. They knew what to do.

-chapter break-

"Please be careful"

She said as Ashiya jostled Abeno's body on his back and tighten his gripped on the blonde's thights.

"I will. I am sorry I can't send you home, Zenko"

"It's not a problem, Hanae. Abeno's health is much more important right now"

Ashiya turned his head back a little bit to see a tuft of yellow natural hair tickled his cheek.

"You are right" he smiled sadly.

"Are you going to miss school tomorrow?"

"We will, if Abeno-san's health doesn't improve in a ni- No, I will make him take a rest"

Zenko smiled in understanding.

"Okay, I will come to your home tomorrow"

Ashiya hummed.

"Alright, I will see you tomorrow, Hanae. Please be careful on your way home."

Ashiya nodded since he couldn't wave back at his friend. When he could no longer see Zenko, he turned back and started walking back to his home. Mojya strutting beside him. Every 10 steps, the fluffy youkai turned to see its employer's body.

A sigh left Ashiya's lips.

"I just wish he would tell us, you know"

Mojya tilted his body, confusion painted its face

"Abeno-san's work, I mean. I thought... I really thought that I was dependable enough. Apparently I am not there yet"

His eyes gazed to the earth along his path.

He wished he could be trusted by Abeno. He wished he could be strong enough to help Abeno. He was a fool to believe it.

He wondered what he should do to gain Abeno's trust enough?

"Nghh...."

A groan sounded from behind Ashiya.

Ashiya's feet halted.

"Abeno-san??"

The head on his right shoulder moved. Then a face appeared below it.

"A-shiya?"

"Are you okay, Abeno-san?"

His answer came with a head thumping back to his shoulder and another groan.

"I want to sleep"

His voice muffled on Ashiya's festival's clothe.

Ashiya gave a small laugh. That's his employer alright. With a knew fervor, Ashiya starting to walk again.

"Where are we going? Put me down. I can walk by myself"

Abeno asked when Ashiya didn't say anything else. His answers came with Ashiya's arms tightening themselves.

"My house"

"Ashi-"

"And no you are not allowed to decline"

Abeno startled at the sudden break and strict tone his usually silly employee has. That was not how Ashiya used to talk and he wondered whether he did something wrong.

"You had just collapsed, Abeno-san. Collapse. That's because you summon the door twice, wasn't it?"

Abeno shutted up. Their journey stopped, now resume.

"I just....I just wish you would tell me, you know"

Abeno completely understood what it meant. He didn't know what to say. So he did what he thought was right.

"I am sorry"

Ashiya was completely silent, bringing an awkward silence around them. Not even mojya did anything other than trotting forward. The atmosphere was tense while the cicadas singing behind them. Until-

"Promise me"

Abeno looked up to Ashiya's nape.

"What?"

"Promise me that you will tell me if we have another work. You might think that I am still afraid of the Executive. I do. But if it was between your health and my fear, I will always choose your health. So please, tell me. I will help you as much as I can"

If Ashiya could see him, Abeno would deny that his eyes had widen comically and he might look stupid. But since Ashiya couldn't he took his time to think about it.

"-even if I might not be much of a help"

Ashiya added sheepishly

"Afterall, I am the employee of the Mononokean and Abeno-san is my employer"

Abeno smiled.

It seemed like he chose his employee wisely.

"Okay" he said " I promise you"

Abeno didn't need to see to know Ashiya was smiling happily.

"Thank you, Abeno-san"

-chapter break-

Ashiya had been cautious, extra cautious. After a little bit of heart to heart with his employee happened in their way back home, with a good ending, Abeno literally fell back to sleep in 5 seconds. Ashiya hummed lightly all the way to his home with mojya by his side dancing along to his hum.

When they gotten near, Ashiya realized that the light was off. He had expected it. His mom was the greatest mom ever in his dictionary. She didn't let her sadness from her husband missing suddenly caught up with her life. The petite woman immediately searched work here and there and managed to maintain their family's life. All this time and she didn't complain or grumble about it. She also didn't left her post as Ashiya's mom too. Everyday she always saw him out with a smile.

'I really have a great mom' he thought. Her mother pain and effort brought tears to his eyes.

Mojya, suddenly heard of its friend sniffed, quickly snuggled to Ashiya's ankle.

Ashiya realized it and the initial tears was blinked away.

"I am fine, mojya! Sorry to make you worry"

Mojya wasn't entirely convinced, but nodded regardless.

"Now ssshhhh. We have to be silent or mom ia going to wake up"

As he said it, the gate of his house had creacked loudly, making his body startled in reaction. Coincidentally, Abeno's body in his back also jostled and Ashiya had chant sutras in hoping Abeno didn't wake up.

".......hmn"

As a result the blonde hummed but resumed his sleep. Seemed like he was bone deep tired.

Ashiya sighed.

Then with one arm holding Abeno's body, the man was quite light despite his figure, he used the key to open the door. Again, the door made a creack which was quite loud in the silent of the night.

He stopped. Ears trying to catch any hint of his mom awaken, not like his mom a light sleeper. But one should always be on his guard.

When his ears heard nothing, he asked mojya to closed the door and slowly they walked. As they were about to pass the living room, just a couple feet and they would be saved, almost uncaught by his eyes he saw a vague black figure right beside the light switch.

Ashiya stopped. His whole body trembled. Cold sweat starting to drenched his clothes.

'Please don't let it be a ghost, please don't let it be a ghost, please don't it be a ghost' his mind looped it again and again and again.

Slowly, miniculesly, he turned his head.

And suddenly-

"Boo!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHGGGG!!!"

The light was turned on and there stood his mother in her pajamas and home slipper. A smile caught in her lips fondly.

"Ahahahah, Hanae. You are still such a scaredy cat"

"Mooooooommmm"

He groaned.

Apparently the figure was none other than his mom.

"What were you doing in the dark? A-and it's midnight!"

"Don't you use midnight excuse, young man! I was worried because you haven't come back home and you didn't send me any message either. So I'm sorry if I am worried about my own son and where is your uniform and- oh my. Is that your friend?"

As his mother mentioned this, Ashiya finally acknowledge the body on his back has been squirming to be put down.

Ashiya internally apologized and complied to his employee's silent request.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, ma'am. I'm-"

Abeno's word slurred as the man's body sway. Ashiya immediately propped the blonde's body to lean on his.

"I-is he okay? Sick? Hanae, let him sleep on your bed first!"

"A-ah yes!"

Shocked and confused from the sudden onslaught order, Ashiya carried Abeno in a bridal carry and laid him carefully on his bed.

Not a second later, his mom came in with a varient things she placed here and there and everywhere.

After that....

BEEP! BEEP! BE-

"Oh, it seemed like you don't have a fever. But your pallor still doesn't look good. So please take a rest tonight while your clothes are being washed right now. If you need anything, please ask Hanae. I will leave you both now, have a good night"

THUD!

Silence was the only thing left and two figure stunned to the spot

"You have a good mother"

Right at that time, Ashiya didn't know whether it was a compliment or not.

"What should we do with these?"

He gestured to all things brought into Ashiya's room. There was bucket with warm water plus a small towel on the floor, a variety of medicine on the desk, a bowl of ochazuke and a glass of water, a vase of flower, and on top of the bed was Abeno almost engulfed by 5 blankets and a cooling pad on his temple. It was definitely too much for a man whose problem was tired.

Ashiya sighed

"Let me get everything away"

The employer started to put unnecessary things back to where it belongs. Since it was his house, he didn't need much time to fumble with everything.

When he went back, the only things left is the food and drink, the vase, and two piece of blanket - one for him and one for Abeno.

Then he placed a futon on the floor and readied himself for sleep. He went back with his pajamas and a towel handing on his shoulder for his hair. When he got inside, he was confused that the light has been turned off. His eyes also lingered on the empty bowl and glass and his employee's body was turned on his side, so the back faced with Ashiya. But there was no soft snore to indicate that Abeno had already slept. The bluenette chuckled and settled on his makeshift bed.

"Goodnight, Abeno-san"

"Night"

Ashiya went to sleep with a smile.

#fukigen na mononokean #abeshiya #abeno haruitsuki #ashiya hanae #abeno x ashiya #fujiwara zenko #spoilers #episode 8

77 notes · View notes

raendown · 5 years

Link

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4910 Chapter: 3/9 Rated: T+ Summary: When his brother disappears coming home from town Madara goes looking for him only for both to end up taken prisoner in a castle hidden by magic generations ago. The candelabras talk, the furniture sleeps, and a great white beast hides himself away in the eastern wing. As he uncovers the story behind this place and gets to know the last small group of ‘survivors’ Madara gradually makes a new home here in the least likely of places.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 3

The first few weeks in the castle weren’t very eventful, a surprise considering they were alone with a talking candelabra and a tessen fan that floated along by herself in open defiance of gravity. Mito offered to cook their meals even after Madara pointed out as gently as he could that it was probably better they do it for themselves, them being the two that still had their taste buds and all. She took it with more grace than he said it. That is to say, she ignored him entirely. When they weren’t enjoying what treasures could be created in a fully stocked kitchen Hashirama showed them around the grounds in small spurts.

In the eastern wing he showed them a massive ballroom with a grand piano now wildly out of tune that none of them knew how to play, though Izuna amused them all by plunking at the keys as best he could. Mito twisted and flitted through the air and told them tales of how the court ladies would dance all in their lines together to woo the men who had caught their eyes. On the third floor they stuck their heads in to see what treasures could be found in the other bedrooms of lords and ladies. They walked so many hallways and inspected so many paintings and tapestries it was a wonder their legs didn’t fall off from so much exercise.

Outside they trekked the expansive gardens and found the stables where their mare had been happily housed in a massive stall with as much hay and oats as she could ever hope for. It was only watching her eat that Madara thought to question his own food sources.

“Where does it all come from?” he asked, trailing his fingers in the cool clear water the mare was drinking from. “The food, I mean. You never go in to town and I can’t see crops from any of the windows.”

“It is but another part of the magic,” Hashirama answered. “When the Great Sannin Tsunade placed us outside of time she did not discriminate between people and objects. Everything here is as it was the day we were cursed. We shall never grow older and our food shall never spoil. All that changes are the seasons; a taunt, I think. She has ever had a strange sense of humor.”

Madara hummed and changed the subject quickly.

For all their explanations, however, there were still places he was told never to go in to and questions that went blatantly unanswered when he tried to ask them. Despite telling Izuna the first morning that he really didn’t care for some of the truths behind this place Madara had to admit as the days went by that his curiosity was only rising. What secrets could possibly be hidden out of sight in the wing they had been asked to never enter? Probably the beast, obviously, but could one creature really take up so much space? If he waited until night when no one was awake Madara bet himself that he could at least take a look around and satisfy his own stupid imagination without bothering anyone about it. No one would ever have to know.

And that’s exactly what he planned to do tonight. Waiting until Izuna finally dropped off in his massive bed was almost impossible and Madara was nearly soothed in to sleep himself by the unbelievable comfort of his own mattress. When he finally heard the rasping breath of uneasy sleep Madara threw off his covers and slid both feet in to the carpet slippers Hashirama had found for them in some chest of clothing or another.

The halls were dark but he carried with him one of the candles from their room which he desperately hoped had never been a person. Even knowing there should be no one about he still walked with silent steps, placing his feet carefully every time. It had never occurred to him to ask where Hashirama and his wife slept – or if they even slept at all for that matter – so it wouldn’t do to make noise when he had no way of knowing how far the sounds needed to travel to cause any sort of disturbance. His friend could catch him sneaking around any other part of the castle whenever he liked but Madara would prefer not to be discovered doing the one thing he’d been asked not to do.

Finding his way through the twists and turns was still a challenge despite what must had been miles of travelling up and down these plush carpets for the past few weeks. It took the better part of twenty minutes until finally Madara stood in front of a door covered cleverly with a tapestry, one he only knew was there at all because he once caught Hashirama coming through it with the air of someone sneaking about and hoping not to be seen. The doorknob turned easily, opening to a corridor just as dark as the one he stood in now. When he lifted his candle and slipped inside it didn’t immediately look any different from the places he’d already been.

Until he took a closer look at the portraits hanging on the walls. Even a peasant like him who had never so much as looked a noble in the eye could tell what those were, depictions of the royal line with their crowned heads and their stately faces, the proud way they held their shoulders. Some with smiles and others with a stern countenance, every portrait contained at least one face that was quite obviously related to someone in the next.

Embarrassingly, it still took letting his curiosity run rampant and opening a door to peer inside for Madara to truly understand where he had let himself in to. There were the royal apartments. This wing of the castle had once housed the royal family themselves and he had let himself in like a thief stealing in to another person’s home with no good purpose in mind. If ever he’d felt like a jackass before in his life it certainly did not compare to now as he realized how badly he had accidentally invaded another’s privacy.

As soon as the realization hit he left the room he’d been so nosy about with every intention of sneaking back out and returning to the bed he should never have crawled out of. Likely he would have reached that destination with no further adventures if not for the light of his candle flickering and drawing his eye just a little to the right and that was when he saw it, feet pausing in their tracks.

One of the portraits on the wall had been damaged. Stepping closer Madara saw that the canvas had been rent open in several straight lines by what he would guess had been claws. Most of the portrait had been left intact to show four young men standing together. Three faces were visible, all of them smiling broadly with their wide mouths and sparkling brown eyes, but all three were depicted with differently colored hair. From left to right Madara lifted the candle higher to note dark ashy blond hair, long rich brown, and a strange combination of half black and half white as though one of the men had been dipped in ink. It was the fourth face which bore the damage, completely obscuring the last member of this royal family.

Madara squinted and lowered his candle to inspect what he could of this missing figure. Besides the fact that he seemed to be of equal size to the others and quite obviously dressed in the same royal garb the only clue was a pair of folded hands so pale they might almost be mistaken for white. For a moment he wondered what could possibly be so distressing about this particular person that the beast felt a need to destroy any evidence of their face. When it came to him he felt a heavy leaden weight settle inside him.

“The younger brother,” he whispered to himself. “The king. The…the…”

“Monster?” a voice rumbled from just behind him. Madara shrieked and spun around, brandishing his candle like a heavy club. He had enough time to catch a glimpse of ghostly white before his impromptu weapon bounced harmlessly off of a barrel-like chest and snuffed out.

“Oh shit.”

“You do not belong here, human.” Without further ado Madara found the front of his clothing gathered in a tight fist and he was lifted bodily in to the air. “You have no right to be here; this part of the castle is private!”

Legs kicking uselessly at the air beneath him, Madara pushed weakly at the fist in his clothes and shouted, “I can see that! I was leaving!”

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently. He froze as a snarl ripped through the air.

“Do not lie to me! You wish to stare at the beast? Then here – stare to your heart’s content!”

A terrible noise echoed after the snarl as the creature’s other hand screeched against the wall, claws catching in the drapes of a window Madara hadn’t noticed and throwing them open to let moonlight spill inside. By the light of the full moon he was granted a perfect view of bared teeth and eyes filled with rage. Thick horns twisted up and away and tried to draw his eyes upwards.

But Madara saw more than that, saw more than he had when he first laid eyes on this creature, full of panic and the desperate need to protect his sibling. He saw that the features were more human than he had realized. Twisted by magic as they had been, there was still an element of humanity to them behind the elongated teeth and the unkempt hair growing wild. In a wild moment of rare sympathy he wondered how angry he would be to have his internal pain made so external for all the world to see, how broken he would feel to look in the mirror every day and see his worst fears staring back at him.

He wasn’t sure if he was going to say anything or offer any words of comfort but the decision was thankfully taken away from him when a very small voice interrupted the moment, snapping the creature’s jaw shut where they were slowly pulling apart as though to bite off unwanted heads.

“Sensei! Sensei stop it!”

All sound cut off from the beast as he and Madara both looked down to see, of all things, a little toy soldier standing on the ground between two cloven hooves.

“You are supposed to be sleeping,” the creature growled.

“As are you! Put him down sensei, he looks really quite sorry!”

“He is trespassing!”

“You have a poor temper, sensei.”

Madara watched as the beast holding him was almost comically brought up short by such a blunt declaration, snorting in offense yet slowly lowering his burden an inch or so. “I should think I am allowed to be upset with those trespassing in places they have been told not to enter.”

“You should be kinder all the same!” The little toy soldier propped both hands in his hips and nodded sharply once to cement his statement as immutable fact.

Looking down at him, Madara's eyes couldn’t help but to slide over and stare at the creature’s legs, the first proper look he’d taken. He was reminded of a picture book he once read in the village’s library, a book of fanciful creatures he’d only read thinking maybe he could show it to Izuna, but the things inside had made him put it away again. One creature came back to him now and if he remembered correctly it had been called a satyr, a half-mad abomination with legs of fur and double knees that ended in cloven hooves supporting the torso of a man. In the book the satyr had been cursed with an animal’s muzzle as well. Madara couldn’t help but be grateful he was spared such a sight.

Yet his gratitude was nothing more than a fleeting thought as he slid his eyes back over to the animated toy soldier now lifting one arm to shake a wooden finger at the beast between them, not one sign of fear in his tiny body. Either he was confident that he couldn’t feel pain in this form or he didn’t realize the danger he was in.

“Put him down!”

“You forget who rules here,” the beast said. Even as he spoke, however, he was lowering Madara back to the floor with brows furrowed in disappointment.

“And you forget your manners! Tossing people about in such a way is not polite!”

“Hmph.”

Clothing still caught in a tight grip, Madara made sure to turn only his head as he strained to get a closer look at who this newcomer was that had the audacity to order around a malformed king in his own castle. Once he’d made sure the one he was scolding had listened to him the little toy soldier cocked his head to return Madara's curious gaze. After a moment of consideration he smiled.

“Greetings!”

“Uh…”

“You are not hurt, I hope?”

Madara wondered if he should include his emotional scarring in the assessment. “Not really. I might have to check my underwear but I don’t think anything’s broken so I guess I’m fine.”

He was gratified to have the claws in his shirt release him immediately, the beast flashing him a mildly disgusted look. It took a great deal of strength not to stick out his tongue in response. Having just escaped certain death was not the time to go inciting violence or offering insults of any kind. Not even if it was hilarious to him that a little offhand bathroom humor was what finally got him back on his own two feet.

“You will remove yourself from this place and return to where you belong,” the beast commanded and that was the last straw no matter how Madara told himself to hold his temper.

“I would if you’d let me go home!” he snapped.

To his amazement, instead of anger he was met with large red eyes blinking slowly, a terrible sadness in their depths that he had neither the ability nor the desire to fathom. Without another word the thing turned and walked away with his strangely ponderous loping steps. Even through the carpet the sound of his hooves could never be mistaken for feet; it seemed such an odd thing to notice but once he did Madara hated the little well of sympathy that pooled inside of him as he imagined how much he would grow to hate the sound of even his own footsteps.

A small tutting from down near his ankles drew his attention away from the hulking form retreating in to the shadows and he looked to see the toy soldier shaking his head. Before he could say anything he watched the moonlight glint on shiny brass as Hashirama stepped out of a nearby doorway to lay a hand on the little soldier’s shoulder.

“Well done,” he praised. “Much as it pains me to say, he listens to you more than he does to me.”

“It hurts him to look at you.”

“Yes. I know.” Hashirama gently patted the wooden boy’s head when he winced and began offering apologies for such an insensitive thing to say.

Madara had already come to the conclusion that this new figure must be a child but that solidified his opinion. Only a child or a fool would blurt out something like that without thinking. If not for the ancient mode of speech he would have guessed at someone young right off the bat but it seemed that everyone here really had been locked in time for some years now. As he listened to the two of them trade apologies and forgiveness back and forth he tried to think back to the books he had read in the library but he couldn’t recall a single mention of any plagues in the past century or so. Not in this country at least. Suddenly he regretted not having the time to read further back in history.

“Ah, how rude of me! I did not mean to ignore you my friend!” Hashirama hopped a little closer and waved one hand to brighten the candle at the end.

“Should we get out of here?”

“Of course, of course, allow us to escort you back to your rooms!”

“I know the way myself,” Madara protested but the two of them were already scrambling down the hall. He supposed they must want to make sure he did leave, which was fair.

Only once they had passed through the tapestry to place them outside of the forbidden wing did Hashirama speak again. “Has this young scallywag introduced himself to you yet? No? May I have the pleasure of introducing Kagami! I’m afraid you might not see much of him, he spends most days keeping my- keeping our lord company.”

“Sensei often falls victim to loneliness even if he doesn’t say so out loud,” Kagami piped up. He smiled when Madara looked at him, painted mouth shifting across his wooden face.

“Does he ever come out of his rooms?”

“He used to on occasion. At night when he couldn’t sleep he liked to wander the gardens.”

Madara sidestepped a table just before crashing in to it, saving the priceless vase perched on top, and asked, “What, and now he’s an even bigger shut in than before? What changed?”

“Ever since you and your brother arrived he hasn’t come out even once.” Kagami saw the widening of his eyes and hurried to assure him. “It isn’t that he’s afraid or uncomfortable, I’m certain! Rather I believe it is in an effort to allow the two of you to feel at ease. He wishes for you to be happy here.”

“So that we’ll stay,” Madara guessed and Kagami nodded.

“Yes. He hopes that you will stay. It was his thought that having someone new to keep us all company may prevent any more from falling in to the deep sleep from which none have reawakened.”

“Hn. I don’t know why he’s worried about me leaving. He was the one that bound me here with some weird magic. Izuna, on the other hand, I think he would leave if I could.” Madara lifted his gaze ahead and both of his companions fell silent as he worried quietly to himself.

In the weeks since he and his brother had come here they’d both grown quite fond of Hashirama and Mito, caring individuals who flourished under the duty of guests to care for, but as time went on Izuna had begun spending more and more time shut away in their room much like the beast himself. There was only so long they could pass off his coughing as a simple cold. Madara knew he was bound here and as much as it pained him he knew there was nothing he could say that would make Izuna leave knowing he could never follow.

Peeking down at Hashirama's hopping form he held in a sigh. Eventually they would need to say something; the treatment Izuna had picked up from the doctor would run out soon, but he found he was reluctant to see the expression on Hashirama's face when he revealed the truth. He saw the dumb talking candle as something of a friend now and even though there was nothing Hashirama could do he was bound to feel guilt over Izuna’s condition. He was a gentle soul like that.

“Here we are!”

Madara snapped back out of his thoughts to see that they had indeed arrived outside of the bedroom he shared with his brother. “Right. Yeah. Thanks for walking with me. I still knew the way by myself, though.”

“It was wonderful to meet you!” Kagami hurried over to crawl up the leg of his pants and dangle off his fingers in an approximation of a handshake. “I hope we meet again!”

“Tell your lord to come out of hiding then,” Madara replied, holding up his hand to smile bemusedly at the little soldier.

It took several minutes for two such friendly people to get through their goodbyes and goodnights but Madara did make it back in to his bed while the moon was still high in the sky, plenty of time left before the sun was due to rise again. Before he slipped under the covers he tiptoed across to check in on Izuna and brush the hair back from that beloved face. He’d been coughing in his sleep, evidenced by the upset blankets and the way he was twisted on his side in unconscious search of comfort, so Madara tucked him back in as tight as possible and then slipped away.

Unlike most nights he failed to fall asleep right away. Despite the comfort his mattress provided his mind was still very much awake and whirring along with thoughts of the creature he had faced and survived less than an hour before. In all the time since he’d arrived it hadn’t struck him as odd until now that no one ever used the creature’s name. For the most part they avoided speaking about him all together. Madara wondered if that was for him or if they were ever allowed in to the royal apartments to visit their lord. They must be if Hashirama had been able to sneak up on them and congratulate Kagami on calming the beast at the right moment. Neither had seemed all that surprised to see him there.

With so many thoughts in his head it took well over another hour for Madara to fall asleep and he woke to the sound of Izuna’s retching cough, scrambling out of his blankets to run for the medicine hidden away in the dresser they kept their meager belongings in. Izuna took his tonic gratefully and settled back against the pillows to cough some more, flushed and feverish. Madara stroked his hair gently.

“You need a doctor,” he whispered.

“Good luck finding one here,” his brother croaked, trying for a carefree smirk but ruining the effort with a terrible spasm.

“See if I don’t go kicking every chair and chest of drawers until I wake one up.” Madara was happy to have at least earned himself a smile but he insisted the younger man stay in bed and promised to bring some food up soon as had become their habit.

He was out the door and heading for the kitchens immediately without a single thought given to telling Izuna about his adventure the night before. As their supply of medicine dwindled he had taken to keeping his most surprising adventures and discoveries to himself to prevent Izuna from getting worked up as often as possible. The less time he spent throwing temper tantrums the less fits he kicked off and the less Madara felt like he might be the worst big brother in history.

Like most mornings he found Hashirama and his wife working away in the kitchen to prepare a massive breakfast neither he nor Izuna would ever be able to finish. It was like this every day. Hashirama delighted in cooking more than necessary, insisting that they were used to serving many more people, and it wasn’t like they would ever run out of food when the store replenished themselves every night at the passing of the witching hour. Madara privately suspected the timing of that to be a joke from the one who cast this magic but he’d never bothered to voice his suspicions.

“Your brother has decided to lie abed again, I presume?” Mito asked, one of her painted eyebrows lifting on the parchment that bore her face. Madara did his best not to take offense.

“I’ll bring something up to him after I eat.”

“Don’t forget to bring your dishes back!” Surprisingly, that was not Hashirama's voice. When Madara looked down he found Kagami struggling up on to the countertop. “Good morrow! I wished to join you for breakfast and sensei said that it was good for me to seek other company too!”

He was saved the trouble of coming up with anything to say as Hashirama and Mito immediately began fussing over the small thing, making up a place for him to sit even though they all knew very well he couldn’t eat. Kagami preened under all the attention. It was more than obvious how little time he spent away from the beast’s side; Madara was uncomfortably reminded of the way Izuna clung to him in the months after it started becoming obvious their parents were never returning.

“You could have company any time you wanted if you just came out of hiding,” he heard himself saying gruffly.

“Oh but I simply couldn’t leave sensei all alone!”

“So bring him too,” Madara growled. “It’s his damn castle, apparently. Far be it from me to stop him from walking around his own house or whatever.” He reached out to jerk his breakfast plate closer and shoveled a large bite in to his mouth, hoping that would be the end of the discussion.

“Truly? You wouldn’t mind?” Kagami leaned forward look up at him like he’d hung the stars. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Deliberately not looking at the small boy Madara shrugged and pushed another bite in to his mouth, speaking around the food. “I mean what’s he gonna do, eat me? Tell him he can come out of hiding as long as he’s not carrying any hot sauce.”

It took a great deal of effort to ignore the way both Kagami and Hashirama exploded with overenthusiastic gratitude for something he shouldn’t have needed to say in the first place. Like he’d pointed out, this castle belonged to that beast so if anyone was worried about being accommodating it should have been him and Izuna who had to stay in their rooms. Circumstances of their arrival aside, they were the ones who didn’t belong here, after all.

Escaping from so many heartfelt thanks was a great relief and Madara felt a lot more comfortable slipping back in to their bedroom with a covered tray containing more food than he knew his brother would be able to eat. Either he was going to have to start throwing it out the window or all the extra scraps he was eating to cover the evidence were going to start showing up on his waistline soon. The last thing he needed was to get fat. Some small part of him was still holding on to the hope that someday they might find a way out of this and finding a new job to replace the one he had surely lost by now would be much harder if he were too out of shape to do any hard labor.

“I smell food,” Izuna’s voice called from under the blankets and Madara closed to door with a smile.

“Too bad none of it’s for you,” he teased. As predicted, Izuna’s face appeared with an offended scowl and the other man laboriously pulled himself up in to a sitting position where he could reach out with two grabby hands.

“Gimme!”

Madara made sure to harrumph and mourn the lack of his brother’s manners as he deposited the tray, doing his best to give the impression that he would starve without the contents. Izuna wasn’t fooled.

“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked instead, slumping down on the foot of the bed.

“Fine.” Izuna carefully straightened his spine. “Maybe I’m a little cold.”

In an instant Madara was back on his feet and fetching a blanket to throw over his brother’s shoulders. “Take it easy, alright?”

“Right. Because I’ve been doing anything but taking it easy lately.” The rolling of his eyes wasn’t necessary but Izuna had always been a little dramatic even when it wasn’t called for. Madara let it slide without comment for once.

While the other ate he tucked the blankets in a little more securely and fell back across the foot of the bed once more, staring up at the beautifully painted ceiling and wondering if he was being optimistic about his own chances of getting out of here someday. He’d made a promise; he had magically bound himself to this place where time didn’t really exist. No matter how he kept his hopes up he might someday be the only living creature here besides the beast with all his friends giving in to the deep sleep and becoming permanent furniture.

And that wasn’t a life he could condemn his brother to.

Knowing how little medicine there was left in the back of the dresser they shared, Madara held in a sigh, not wanting to alert Izuna to where his thoughts had turned for the hundredth time. When it did run out they both knew what he had to do and neither of them liked it. He could already foresee how much of a fight it would be but he didn’t care. One way or another he would have to convince Izuna to leave him here and risk forgetting about him. Losing his brother to a better quality of life would always be a better option than sitting back and watching the younger man die in front of him.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #hashirama #kagami #izuna #fanfiction

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cometomecosette · 6 years

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How I picture the characters of “Les Mis”

This meme made me decide to write out my mental images of what all the main characters look like. Most of them are vague, based on a blend of Hugo’s descriptions and stage casting traditions. None of them are based on the movie cast, which has made it feel strange in the last several years to see most fan drawings of the characters become movie-based.

I hope other people will see this and share their images of the characters too. I’d love to read them, especially if they’re very different from mine.

Jean Valjean

Medium hight, barrel chested and bulky – not overweight, but more “big-boned” than “ripped.” At most the same height as Javert, more likely shorter, but heavier and more strongly built. Straight, longish, light brown/later white hair and a beard. (Yes, the Brick implies that he gets rid of the beard after breaking parole, but the musical’s stage history makes me picture it throughout.) Eyes either hazel or blue. A roundish face with solid, homely features (not ugly in the least, just completely ordinary) and a reserved expression. If you passed him on the street you’d be struck by his bulk, and by the stark whiteness of his hair in his later years, but he’s far from a Hugh Jackman-style eye-catcher; just a big, strong, average older man.

Javert

Tall, strongly built and imposing, as per Hugo, though more slender and less powerful than Valjean. Rigid posture. Dusky skin, in keeping with his Romani heritage. Dark brown hair; short in the Brick-verse, but musical-Javert has the long, elegant ponytail of stage tradition, regardless of anachronism. Huge forest-like sideburns, as per both Hugo and stage tradition. Brown eyes. A longish, rectangular face with a big square jaw, a snub nose as per Hugo (though less cartoonishly snub than Emile Bayard drew it) and a severe, dignified expression. The rare occasions when he smiles or laughs are, as Hugo tells us, terrifying.

Fantine

Medium height and slender. Long, luxuriant, sunny blonde hair, either wavy or curly; later messily chopped and extremely short. Bright blue eyes. Strikingly beautiful, with a slender face (though I can imagine a roundish one too, at least before she gets sick and loses weight), pale skin, a small straight nose, high cheekbones, and as per Hugo, pretty white teeth. A very classical, dignified type of beauty (as opposed to cuteness or, God forbid, sexiness), influenced in my mind both by Hugo’s references to Greco-Roman goddesses when describing her and by Ruthie Henshall’s look in the TAC. Though of course by the end of her arc, it all turns to emaciated, ashy ghostliness.

Cosette

At 16/17: Medium height and slender. A soft, roundish face like Raphael’s Madonnas, as per Hugo. Medium chestnut brown hair, worn in long ringlets. (Yes, I know she would have more likely sported a curled up-do, but decades of stage tradition have left their mark on my mind.) Bright blue eyes like her mother’s. A small cute nose – probably aquiline, given Hugo’s “Parisian” description, though I don’t always picture it as such. Innocently beautiful, in a way that blends her mother’s natural dignity with girl-next-door cuteness.

As a little girl: See Bayard’s iconic illustration. Just color the hair brown. (Though I’m also open to it being blonde at first, but darkening when she hits puberty, as sometimes happens.)

Marius

Medium height and slender. Boyishly handsome with rounded facial features, as per Hugo, and of course with “wide, passionate nostrils.” Pale skin, with no freckles (sorry, Eddie). Short hair, which I almost always picture as thick, curly and jet black, as per Hugo – though sometimes when I’m thinking only of the musical, I picture it straight and brown instead, or occasionally even blond. Brown eyes are my default image, though I’m open to blue too. As per Hugo, a generally reserved, serious expression, but with a wide, adorable smile when he’s happy; since musical-Marius is warmer and more outgoing than Hugo’s, I imagine that smile appearing more often from him.

Thénardier

Short, scrawny and bony, as per Hugo, though I’m open to picturing musical-Thénardier as slightly taller and/or more solidly built. Longish, stringy brown/later gray hair. No clear idea of eye color: probably either brown, green, or pale blue. A thin, angular face with a wide mouth, a sharp nose and bad teeth; I’m prone to picturing his nose as prominent, but I know that’s a cliché for greedy characters based in hateful Jewish and Romani stereotypes, so sometimes I force myself to imagine it smaller. Brick-Thénardier grows a long, scraggly beard in poverty, as per Hugo; musical-Thénardier just has a permanent five o’ clock shadow.

Mme. Thénardier

Huge and intimidating, as per Hugo. Obese, tall (taller than her husband in the Brick, though musical-Mme. T. might be the same height or slightly shorter), frumpy and masculine looking. Thick, wavy cascades of red/later graying hair. Blotchy skin, as per Hugo. Big, walnut-smashing, child-punching fists. A big face, either squarish or round (Hugo’s description of her as both “fat” and “angular” is hard to imagine, so my brain often defaults to the roundness of most stage actresses), with a snub nose and small, piggy blue eyes. As per Hugo, Brick-Mme. T. has a few chin hairs and a protruding lower tooth, but I don’t picture those details in the musical.

Éponine

Tallish and very thin. Light to medium chestnut brown hair (lighter and more reddish than Cosette’s), naturally straight but stringy with filth. (This is fluid, though – now and then I picture her with dirty strawberry blonde hair instead, or with thick, wild dark curls). Eyes either blue or green. Tanned skin and maybe some freckles. Bony, angular features with a fairly strong nose and wide mouth like her father’s, though musical-Éponine’s face is softer. Brick-Éponine has all the ugly marks of poverty Hugo describes: wasted figure, missing teeth, bleary eyes, etc. Musical-Éponine is prettier, but not a striking beauty either, just an average girl who’s prettiness you’d notice if you looked past the layers of dirt.

Enjolras

Tall, slender and lightly muscular. Angelically handsome, just as Hugo writes, in the vein of a Greco-Roman statue. Luxuriant blond hair; I most often picture it long, wavy and in a ponytail (since I saw that look onstage first), but I can easily picture it short and curly too, especially with Hugo’s Antinous comparison. Bright blue eyes. Pale skin with rosy overtones “like a young girl’s,” as per Hugo, yet with clear masculine strength in his build. A slender, eternally youthful yet dignified face, with a straight nose, strong chin and quietly stern, ever-determined expression. Again, see the statues of Antinous as a reference.

Gavroche

Average height for an 11- or 12-year-old, but scrawny. Tanned and maybe freckled, like his sister. Light to medium brown hair; I instinctively picture it short and straight like most boy actors’ hair onstage, but I know Hugo saw it as a thick, crazy tangle of curls, so I can imagine that too. No fixed idea of eye color: probably the same as his father’s. A thin face, plain yet bright and expressive, with a wide and loud mouth like his father’s and sister’s. I admit, I imagine him better looking than the wild, ugly little thing Hugo envisioned, but that’s probably true for most of us.

Grantaire

See above: I know my vision of Grantaire isn’t nearly as ugly as Hugo’s, and I don’t imagine him with the huge mustache Hugo sketched him with, but at least I’m not alone in that. I picture him medium height to tall and on the slender side, though I can possibly see him as heavier too. Long or at least longish hair, medium to dark brown, straight yet messy. Brown or hazel eyes. A nondescript face, either round or squarish: I don’t exactly have a clear vision of it, because I know he should be ugly, but I’ve never seen an ugly actor in the role. Based on stage tradition, I tend to picture him with a permanent 5 ‘o clock shadow.

#les mis #les miserables #characters #physical appearance #tw: child abuse

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cocoarosalia · 6 years

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All They Have (KatsuDeku)

“Ok so if we decide to move to this district the crime would be pretty low but that wouldn’t be good for pay, so maybe if we-“

“What are you babbling on about now nerd”

Izuku felt like he had jumped clear to the ceiling with how hard he jolted up from his seat and onto his feet. Katsuki gave him a strange look from the entryway of their little one bedroom apartment, the kind of look that made him think that Katsuki might have known what he was up to but couldn’t quite prove it yet. Izuku covered up the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach with a fake cough and tried to act somewhat natural with his phone shoved behind his back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about kacchan, I’m always babbling about something. On a separate note to stop talking about this, I thought you weren’t coming home till this evening?”

Katsuki was slow to respond as he stalked izuku in the direction of the couch “Crime was slow today so I got to finish my paperwork early” he suddenly crowded izuku onto the couch, knocking him into the seat and straddling his waist so he couldn’t escape.

“But that wasn’t a good answer to my question, was it deku?”

Izuku wriggled desperately to get away from his husband’s clutches. He saw how his eyes flashed evilly, the smile large, vicious and a little too happy. A look katsuki got when interrogating criminals, a look izuku hated being on the receiving end of. Izuku was about to use a hint of his quirk to push Katsuki off, when the wicked look he was giving suddenly turned into unexpected shock and then right into something unabashedly naughty.

“Something hard between your legs is telling me that it wasn’t very family friendly”

Izuku could damn well feel his eyes bug out of his head “A-are you insane?! No it wasn’t sexual! That something hard is because you’re squirming on my lap and I know you’re too tired from work to handle it, so if you don’t mind?”

Izuku hoped that his “doting” husband would catch the hint husband would either catch the hint or accept the challenge and leave him to wallow in truth and shame silently, or become too distracted with proving izuku wrong about how tired he was, that he would forget about the younger mans phone

“Naaah not buying it. Let’s see what’s really on ‘the symbol of hope’s’ phone”

His hope was misplaced

The pair broke out into a wrestling match like when they were kids, pulling and kicking for the rights over the phone and neither were above playing dirty. For every nip to Izuku’s plump cheeks, he’d fire back with a non-sexy yank on Katsuki’s ashy pale blonde hair. For a moment Izuku completely forgot about why he was even fighting over the phone to begin with. Memories of their lives before getting married, before being together, or even before entering U.A came flooding back to him. He remembered fights like these over his favorite All Might action figure, when they would roll around on the dirty playground floor cause Katsuki would claim that ‘Dekus like him didn’t deserve a toy like this’. It hurt back then but looking back Izuku felt like he could finally smile about it.

“Hah! it’s my win Deku!”

Or he would if his face wasn’t completely smushed into the couch cushions

Izuku squirmed, trying to break free but katsuki’s arms were around him, pinning his own to his sides. Katsuki had clearly been training with Uraraka lately. One moment izuku thinks he had the upper hand with him pinning Katsuki onto his back and the next Katsuki’s wrapping his legs around him like a snake and shoving him onto his side so he can slot behind him, put his arms in a vice grip and yank the phone from his hands.

“Kacchan! let me go you maniac!” He barked with not much bite. To be honest he’d be much more angry if he wasn’t so turned on by how quickly his husband was able to overpower him

Katsuki snorted out a laugh “After all that work? Oh I’m definitely going through your stuff now”

Izuku was clearly defeated, his body went limp in his husbands arms. His only saving grace now was that katsuki would find interest in anything else remotely embarrassing on the phone that wasn’t his secret project.

Katsuki opened the device and started to scroll through Izuku’s endless apps. Many were hero branded apps that fed his insatiable desire to drown himself in hero culture. Others were types of training and weight monitoring apps so he could always stay on top of his and katsuki’s physical wellness. Most of them, however, were stupid, mind numbing games to keep him occupied while patrolling.

(He had Pokemon Go for a while but Katsuki threatened to stop visiting him at work if he kept it, saying that it distracted him ‘from the only prize he needed to catch’)

“Jesus Deku don’t you ever clean out your fucking phone?”

Izuku pouted indignantly “How do you know I don’t use them all?”

“Because you always put your most used apps out on the first or second page and you have like five pages” Izuku pouted harder

When Katsuki finally got to the last page Izuku began to think that he could finally let out a small sigh of relief. He had to admit that he enjoyed playing dating sims when his husband wasn't looking (‘IT’S FOR THE STORY KACCHAN’) but all things considered it wasn’t too bad an investigation. As long as his too nosy husband managed to give him back his phone and leave him be he was in the clear!

“Lifetime Organizer?” katsuki said with a slight lilt in his voice, like he had just found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and izuku knew from that tone alone that he was in for many teasing jabs.

Izuku could just feel the heat burning the back of his neck. Katsuki hugged around him closer, no doubt ensuring that Izuku would have to fight if he wanted freedom from his shame “You mind telling me what this is?” izuku could practically hear the smile in his husbands tone.

He couldn’t admit it, he just couldn’t! His husband was already mentally pointing and laughing at him for having so many dumb apps as he has, but for Izuku to admit to the one app he DIDN’T want Katsuki to see EVEN SEE would be like signing the suicide note to his peaceful, blissfully ignorant lifestyle! He had to come up with something, ANYTHING.

“It’s a secret app for all the gay porn I have”

SOMETHING BETTER THAN THAT YOU DINGUS!

A hole, a hole that was 10 feet wide and six feet deep should just appear before him now and swallow him whole. Izuku watched in pitying despair, his stomach dropping to his knees while Katsuki tapped the little pastel pink icon and pulled up a slew of color coded files all with overly cutesy names.

if izuku wasn't so riddled with shame he may have been slightly turned on with just how easily katsuki pulled them both up into a sitting position, izuku nestled in his lap as katsuki swiped through the different folders.“Hmm let’s see, ‘Work is where the headaches live’, ‘Our little slice of heaven’, ‘Second time’s the charm’, Ok Deku, spill. What is all this? I’ve already mocked you for it so you might as well come clean”

Izuku gnawed at his bottom lip, twisting and tangling his fingers together “Well, do you remember how our wedding went?”

Katsuki shuddered when he had to think about it. You would think that the WONDER DUO, two of japan’s most prolific and deeply loved heroes would have the wedding of the century. Their wedding should’ve been a televised event with big name performances, fireworks and all that other spectacle shit, before ending with them riding off to their luxury honeymoon on the back of a fucking elephant!

It SHOULD have been a night for Katsuki to have a real moment of humility and down to earthness, where he could take the time to appreciate the man who risked his life, possessions and everything else for him. The same man who’d do it again without so much as a second thought. Their wedding was SUPPOSED to be something out of a goddamn fairy tale.

But how did they spend it? Arguing. And over the stupidest shit at that! Izuku, being the extra little drama queen that he himself admitted to being, insisted that they keep with American traditions (despite the very obvious fact that they’re japanese, but whatthefuckever) and not see each other before the time came for them to walk down the aisle. Katsuki was very quick to point out how stupid that sounded, yet Izuku refused to budge, which already started the day off poorly. What Katsuki failed to mention, however, was why he even objected in the first place!

The real reason he hated the idea was that he was actually nervous for the third time in his whole life (first time being asking the nerd out, second time being the actual proposal). He didn’t want to be alone. Sure he had Kirishima and Kaminari there, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to hold onto his favorite nerd and be reminded that, yes, this weird ball of forest green fluff actually loved him enough to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives.

So Katsuki responded the only way he knew how, by lashing out until everyone was having as shit a time as him. By the time the actual ceremony happened, Izuku didn’t wanna talk to him, his friends were avoiding him and all he wanted was to drown his sorrows. It took him pretty much proposing again for Izuku to forgive him and they could actually walk into the reception and have a good time. But then….family had to get involved.

Neither Katsuki nor Izuku would be even close to the men they are today, without the ever present loving support of their family. In the beginning of their professional careers their parents were the only thing that grounded them to the reality that being a hero, will always be both the best and most painful job there can be. They owed everything to their families and couldn’t imagine not having them be apart of the celebration…..

But maybe next time they decide to have a get together, they’d cool it on the open bar a little.

Not even an hour into the reception and Izuku’s mother had damn near cried herself into exhaustion, sobbing and drinking herself silly over her “sweet baby boy becoming such a strong young man” and that now “She would be in an empty house all alone while he’s off living his life”. Izuku was so riddled with guilt and stress that he had to take her outside to convince her that he wasn’t going to basically ship her off to an old folks home as soon as the reception ended.

Katsuki’s parents were comparatively worse when the liquid courage started flowing. They were always social drinkers and never had so much as a sip when inside the house, but outside? Amongst friends? VERY MUCH IN PUBLIC? They were total nightmares. Katsuki’s dad had decided that it was a wonderful idea to get everyone to join in a singalong of the cheesiest songs known to man and dance the literal “funky chicken” while actively refusing to stay on beat to save his life. But it was typical dad stuff, nothing Katsuki hadn’t already shamed out of his system by the time he graduated U.A. But his mom? Mitsuki Bakugou could forever proudly claim, that she had single handedly scarred him and all the guests without an ounce of help.

All night long she got her shits and giggles from telling inappropriate stories about “Katsuki’s late night laundry runs” and “The not so hidden magazines he thought he could keep from me” and most spectacularly “That one time I walked in on them blowing each other and like the supportive mother I am, provided helpful tips on how to improve their technique”. It took Katsuki tackling his mom to the floor and dragging her out kicking and screaming to keep her from deciding that it would be a good idea to walk up to the podium, champagne in hand and give an “emotional speech to the happy couple”.

Oh and there was also a villain attack right as they were cutting the cake! But to be fair that was probably the most relief they had that whole night.

“By the time we got back to our room we couldn’t even have awesome newlywed sex” Katsuki lamented

“I know, I woke up before you that morning and when I saw all the toys you had planned out I think I cried”

Katsuki nodded solemnly, as much as he adored being married to his favorite nerd you could not PAY him enough to relive that nightmare again

“But that still doesn’t answer my question” katsuki said after a moment “What the hell is this ‘organizer’ or whatever”

Izuku’s face flushed pink around his freckled shoulders. He sighed in embarrassment “Well ever since that day I’ve had anxiety about where our lives might end up if things aren’t planned properly. I mean, if we couldn’t make it through our own wedding then WHO KNOWS what else could just….pop up and ruin everything we’ve built together”

Katsuki’s face turned in a frown “And why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Because I thought you’d say it was stupid” Izuku responded with a pout

“It is” Katsuki replied bluntly “But that’s not the point”

Katsuki took Izuku’s head in his hands and tilted it back till he was gazing into deep eyes of forest green “I married you for more than your strengths dumbass which, yes, includes all the weird little chinks in your stupidly, shining armor. You have gotta trust me on that ok?”

Izuku made a small pout, feeling that it was unfair that Katsuki could find just,/i> the right words to talk him out of his insecurities, but still relaxed under the soothing warmth of his husband hands.

“Now that that’s all agreed upon” Katsuki said with a definitive nod “Let’s see how stupidly sweet you’ve made our lives”

Izuku made one last gut dash for his phone. He might trust his husband but if he could avoid the embarrassment and make a run for it, you bet your ass he’ll give it the old “Plus Ultra” try. But not even if he activated One for All to 100% could he move faster than the man who had already countered his every move before he could even make them. Katsuki tightened his grip around Izuku and grounded him harder to his chest, reaching the phone high above their heads and opening the first folder.

“‘In our corner of the universe’ christ even the folder names are cheesy, you’re such a sap Deku”

Brochures and pictures were simulated to fall out of the folders inner pockets and scattered themselves all over the screen. Katsuki saw images of high end condos mix messily with little neighborhood homes, completed with a closed off front yard and white picket fences. And of course no plan of Izuku’s could be even close to complete without an incomprehensible amount of notes being attached to every single image. Even as he read each note he could just see Izuku running himself ragged trying to extract and analyze every minute detail of every possible listing.

“2 bedroom condo in the city of Sapporo, heart of Hokkaido. Nearest station, six minutes away and the closest Hero Agency 20 is minutes” Katsuki spoke in a bored tone as he rattled off the basic listing information. But strangely Izuku did not feel as though his husband was disinterested in what he read. The information was boring, sure, but there was a certain glint in Katsuki’s gaze that Izuku knew all too well as his “analytical eye”. It comforted Izuku in a strange ‘thank-god-he’s-at-least-pretending-to-indulge-me’ kind of way.

“Well I’m only one house in and you’ve already fucked up”

Izuku face went pale in confused fear “What!? Why?”

“Don’t fucking ask ‘why?’ you little shit!” Katsuki pinched and pulled at Izuku soft cheeks “What makes you think I want to move all the way to the fucking north!? It’s fucking cold, which means no sweat, which means I’m fucking useless!”

“But the hero agency up there pays really well!” the younger hero whined in pain

“No shit! It’s cause no one wants to fucking work there. I bet the crime rate is really low up there too isn’t it?”

“I-I mean” Izuku stammered “There’s quite a number of jaywalkers out there”

Katsuki released his husbands now pinch reddened cheeks “I’m quaking in my steel tipped boots”

The bruised hero sighed and rubbed his face to soothe the pain “I’m guessing Osaka’s out then”

“Whatcha think? just put sweat based EXPLOSION hero in the blistering humid south, THAT shouldn’t cause any problems”

“Nara?”

“I’ll put a deer in a headlock”

“Kyoto?”

“That’s where old people go to die”

Izuku was starting to get frustrated at his partner’s contrarian behavior “Well where DO you want to go Kacchan? Cause I’m NOT living in a tiny one bedroom apartment for the rest of my life”

“Obviously” Katsuki retorted. He paused and thought for a minute weighing the pros and cons of every prefecture in Japan.

“How about Shizuoka?”

Izuku blinked up at him “That...Why there of all places?”

Katsuki flopped back over onto the couch and turned his face toward the sofa’s back. He was trying to hide the bashful blush on his face, but in Izuku’s experience he wasn’t very good at it

“It’s not that far from Tokyo so you can still see your mom or whatever” Katsuki said “plus it’s got a lot of mountains and nature and shit, so since we both like the outdoors seems like a good choice to me”

Izuku felt a blush creep up to his ears. For all the criticism Katsuki got stuck with for being loud, hot-headed and just generally being a rough guy to get along with, if there was one thing no one could ever claim, it would be that he wasn’t attentive. He knew his husband could pay attention and listen when needed but it still never failed to shock him when he would translate all his nonsensical ramblings into a tangible idea or plan they can actually execute.

“O-ok” Izuku said with a sheepish tone “We’ll move to Shizuoka”

“Awesome, glad that trainwreck is over with, let’s board the next one”

And that was how they spent the rest of their afternoon. Izuku would suggest they do a certain thing later in life, and katsuki would almost always fervently disagree and offer a slightly less terrible compromise. But the time evening rolled in, they had agreed to have a completely dry vow renewal in a few years, would work at different hero agencies when they moved and adopt a dog to look after the house (ok Izuku didn’t really give consent to that last one, but Katsuki figured that he just hadn’t met the right mutt yet)

Things were going just as Izuku always dreamed…...until he brought up the word “surrogacy”

“You want to do WHAT!?”

“Kacchan it’s not what you think!” Izuku chased after his husband as Katsuki stormed out of the living room and down the hallway toward the bedroom

“You want to get a woman pregnant, with OUR sperm. Despite the fact that we’re gayer than a rainbow burning with glittering fire!”

“....ok so it is what you think”

Katsuki threw out an exasperated “holy fucking christ” while he plopped down onto the bed. He flopped onto his back and ran his hands over his face, cause he needed to rub the stupid off him before he caught even a whiff of it. Izuku rolled his eyes at the display, Katsuki was such a drama queen.

“There is not one single female that’ll go through with it”

Izuku snorted “I can promise you that the over 50,000 Deku or Ground Zero X Reader fanfictions online might disagree”

“AHA! SO YOU DO READ THEM!”

“NOT THE POINT AND I READ THEM FOR THE STORIES”

Izuku lifted away from the bedroom door frame and sat next to his partner in life “it’s not like you’re fucking the woman we choose, it’s done entirely without you betraying your flamboyant homosexuality”

“First of all, fuck you cause you still use the word ‘queen’ unironically and second of all that’s not the problem”

Katsuki sat back up once more on the bed and laced his fingers together over his knees, head hung low. He took a deep breath and started speaking “There’s not exactly a lot of females i’d even trust enough to carry what would most definitely be named the ‘wonder baby’.”

Izuku scratched his cheek in discomfort, a terrible habit of his “Well the process starts right off the bat with us screening applications until we find the right surrogate”

“But a complete stranger?” Katsuki said “And what if we find out she’s some crazed fan on top of that? The media will be swarming like flies and there’s absolutely NO guarantee that she won’t talk, it’s just too risky”

“What if” Izuku started chewing on his bottom lip, his mind racing with the possibilities of how this next statement would pan out “What if we picked someone who was used to the spotlight. Someone who had been trained to deal with the media?” izuku asked hesitantly

Katsuki propped his chin up on his fist and snorted out a laugh “what, you gonna get some big name celebrity bimbo to loan us her body for 9 months?”

Izuku sat up a little straighter, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth “Well, you actually know this ‘big name celebrity’ and she’s not a bimbo. She couldn’t be one if she could kick your ass” Izuku said with a slight smug tone to his voice

Katsuki stopped. No one can kick his ass! Only Deku can and he has to put effort into it! Hell, the only one whoever came close was…

“Absolutely fucking not Deku”

“Oh come on!” Izuku groaned, shoulders slumping slightly “She’s perfect for it!”

Katsuki could not believe the stupid shooting from his husband’s mouth “Round-Face!? I’d sooner denounce how fucking gay I am than have her carry our fucking baby!”

“But why!? We both know her, she can handle herself in a fight, and she’s been in the media as long as we have! I mean for All Might’s sake she already-”

Izuku clapped both of his hands over his mouth and let the rest of his words die right on his tongue. Katsuki scowled deeply at him.

“She already what deku?”

Curly moss green hair flapped everywhere as he shook his head in defiance. Izuku was a talker, at work, at home, and most assuredly in bed. So for him to clam up right before pulling on the trigger to his foot could only mean one thing.

“You already had this fucking conversation with her!?”

Izuku gripped his hands to his face harder

Katsuki deflated in disbelief “and she already agreed to go through with it, didn’t she”

He couldn’t stand the way Izuku couldn’t look at him, the way he refused to meet his eyes. Katsuki pushed off the bed to get some much needed separation between them. This was too many stupid decisions in one night

“Kacchan please.” Izuku pleaded “Just list-”

“Just listen? Is that the stupid shit you were about to ask me? You were about to ask me to fucking hear you out weren’t you? To see things from YOUR point of view, to understand the over abundant LOGIC that is your thought process WHEN YOU DON’T EVEN REALIZE THAT IT’S SO GODDAMN FLAWED THAT ITS SCARY!”

Izuku’s crossed his arms in indignity “What are you getting so mad for anyway? It’s not like I already got her pregnant”

“No but with your current record I wouldn’t fucking put it past you.” Katsuki snapped back “And you wanna know why i’m so pissed? It’s because you didn’t even ask me for my opinion.”

Katsuki took a deep breath before speaking again “Did you ever stop to wonder WHY I don’t want a surrogate, ESPECIALLY not round-face?”

“Because you don’t trust anyone to properly carry the golden genes of a bakugou male?” Izuku said with feigned theatrics

Katsuki rolled his eyes “No you ass, it’s because a baby is giant undertaking for the human body and psyche”

That pouty dismissive look Izuku was giving him was getting dangerously close to ‘punch in the face’ levels of annoying “Oh what do you know? It’s not like you have any siblings!”

“No but I have aunts, cousins, and coworkers. All of whom have had to put their careers on hold for a year then have to put themselves through more pain than any villain ever could to BIRTH these kids”

“She’s an adult Kacchan, what she does with her body is her business”

“No duh dipshit but as her best friend i’d hope that you’d think about more than just what you want and how willing she is to fucking give it to you”

“And while you’re thinking about what you,/i> want, how much my opinion doesn’t mean shit to you? Think about this instead.” Katsuki reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a folded up set of papers. He shoved the stack into izuku’s chest and stormed off to the kitchen because if you asked him? He REALLY needed something strong.

Izuku recoiled from the booming sound of the bedroom door slamming behind him. He ran his fingers over the folds of the paper, felt the bumps of the staple. He just didn’t understand! Katsuki didn’t care as much about the other stuff they talked about. Sure, he wasn’t quite in agreeance either but they could always come to a compromise. Butterfly’s beat at his stomach; this stack of papers felt like it was getting heavier and heavier the more he hesitated.

He swallowed his guilt and anxiety, at least for the moment, and unfolded the papers

“....... Dammit Kacchan”

Katsuki tipped back another round of whiskey and slammed the glass on the kitchen counter. He’d never call himself a regular drinker as alcohol was the fastest way to fuck up his career. But just thinking about how much izuku was just willing to…..completely ignore his input was just too much to bear sober. He put his head on the cool counter as what would inevitably turn into a garbage hangover, began to throb in his head.

He was about to toss izuku onto the couch for the night so he could sleep off his buzzed stupor until he felt a warmth press against his back. His conscience screamed it’s heart out for him to turn around and forgive his stupid brat of a husband, but Katsuki was resolute. Izuku wanted to ignore him? Then too can play that game and they both knew that katsuki was not one keen to losing.

“You’re drinking again” the warm body behind him spoke

Katsuki scoffed “only way to stoop down to your logic”

Izuku chewed on his bottom lip and gripped at katsuki’s shirt “kacchan why didn’t you tell me that you just wanted to adopt?”

“Why did you plan the next 30 years of our life together without telling me?”

Izuku didn’t respond for a moment. The tension in the room was thick like tar, a single word trigger away from lighting on fire and swallowing them both whole.

“I was scared”

“You’re full of shit” katsuki bit out in bitter disbelief

Izuku sighed and wound his arms around his husband’s stomach “I know! I know it’s hard to believe, especially after the way I acted but you gotta admit you’re a very….in the moment kinda guy”

Katsuki didn’t speak; Izuku hugged tighter and nuzzled his face into his back “I wanted to show you all of this when it was….when I was ready to actually go through with it. I wanted to show you that I wanted to do more than just love you from our cozy little apartment. I want to grow with you, build a life with you, become better with you right there….figuring it out with me”

Katsuki still didn’t look at him, his golden pale blonde spikes obscuring Izuku’s view. Izuku considered trying to convince him of his mistake again but ultimately decided there was no point, he had betrayed his husband’s faith in him and no sweet words were going to change that tonight. Izuku unwrapped his arms from around Katsuki’s waist and turned to walk toward the living room, which would surely be his bedroom for tonight.

“I want a girl”

Izuku stopped dead in his tracks. He turned to Katsuki, shock evident on his face.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. If you can decide what fucking agency i’m gonna work in, then at the very least you owe me a baby girl. There’s too much testosterone in this house as it is anyway”

Izuku ran his arms over his leaking eyes briskly, suppressing a laugh “I don’t think we get to choose the gender of our baby. To be honest we’d be lucky if we got approved given….our….status”

Katsuki seemed to grow a whole foot taller than Izuku as he bored his carmine red gaze down onto him. There had to have been some space between them but Izuku felt like he was suffocating in the intimidating aura of his husband intense and murderous stare.

“You’ve saved people. You’ve saved very important people. So either you get me my baby Kazuku or we find out whether or not you have a male pregnancy quirk. Take your pick”

For all the things Izuku loved about his husband, his calm fury had to be scariest, sexiest trait of them all.

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