#just realized i drew him with 2 hands in the first panel

[zyanova]

Do you guys ever think about what Shockwave did during those 4 million years alone on Cybertron? Because I do.

#he thinks so rationally that he can play multiplayer games by himself while being completely unbiased towards one team #he knows what cards he has but is able to play like he doesn't #transformers #tf #maccadam #shockwave #tf g1 #transformers generation one #tf generation one #transformers g1 #g1 shockwave #art #clp art #artists on tumblr #transformers fanart #tf fanart #tf art #this made me realize how hard it must be for him to grab things #just realized i drew him with 2 hands in the first panel #shhh you didn't notice #i totally gave up on the name making on that last one didn't I

[bullet-prooflove]

Monster In The Closet: Will Halstead x Reader

Trigger Warning: Mentions of sexual assault

Part 1: Survivors

Part 2: Where You Go I Go

Will found you sitting on the edge of the bed. Your hands were grasping at the sheets, clutching at the mattress. Your back was rigid, your shoulders taunt, and your eyes fixed on the closet across from you.

"Baby?" he didn't know what to say. Instead, he sat down on the bed beside of you.

Their shoulders brushed lightly; he heard the rustle of your clothing as his hand came to rest over yours. You swallowed hard as you twisted your head towards him. He could see the terror in your eyes and Jesus it killed him.

"I need you to check the closet." you said quietly.

Will was suddenly filled with a wealth of understanding. The closet was where that bastard had watched you in your old apartment. It had been where everything had started to unravel. The place that the monster had literally hidden. He felt such guilt about that, about not believing you that night you had told him your suspicions. It made him flinch every time the thought crossed his mind. Checking the closet was the least he could do for you.

"No problem." he said, rising to his feet.

The truth was the closet even freaked him up just a little, knowing that the man who had hurt you had probably seen the two of you at your most intimate. He knew it was irrational to think there was another monster in this closet. If it gave you both a peace of mind, then he would check it and the whole entire apartment for the rest of his life. Your heart banged against your ribcage as Will yanked open the wardrobe door, revealing nothing but a few of his shirts.

Will put his arm into the closet and drew back the clothes revealing the beech-coloured back panel. The two of you let out breaths you hadn't realized you were holding as you fixated on the blank space.

"I knew he wasn't there..." you murmured, bowing your head with shame as you pressed your hands between your knees.

"I had to check." Will responded, shutting the closet door.

There was silence between the two of you as Will turned to face you. You could see the toll this was taking on him from the dark circles under his eyes and stubble that lined his jaw. He rubbed his hand over his weary features, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're tired." You said quietly, tilting your head up towards him.

"A little." he admitted, his shoulders sagging a little with fatigue.

"Do you want to go to bed?" You asked him.

"I can take the couch." He told you.

He had already resigned himself to that fate. He was willing to do anything to make you feel comfortable and safe, if he had to sleep on the couch for eternity then he would.

"Will." you whispered, catching his hand in her own.

Will hesitated, this was the first time you had reached out for him, and he treasured the moment. The moment where it seemed everything was starting to click back into place.

"Please... I don't want to be alone." you confessed.

He saw how much it hurt you to admit that, to admit that you were scared right now. The woman that he had known before the attack was all about pride, but now he could see that you were raw and open.

"What do you want?" he asked you quietly.

Jesus, he wanted to reach out and touch you the way he used to, to not have to worry or remember about what that bastard had done to you, but he didn't want to frighten or coerce you into doing something that you weren’t ready for.

"I want you to undress me." you uttered, your eyes on Will's intently.

Will rubbed his palm across his mouth as his eyes fixed on you. He wanted to do as you asked, he wanted to remove your clothes piece by piece until you were gloriously naked, but it wasn't the right thing to do. He didn't want to take advantage of you, although he wanted to hold you in his arms, feel the press of your skin against his as he sank into you. He wanted to show you how he felt, to say the words that were on his lips every time he looked at you.

You have no idea how God damn sorry I am that I didn't believe you.

"I don't think that's a good idea." he told you as gently as he could.

"Will..." you said his name in the same breathless voice he was used to hearing from the time you spent in bed.

You stepped into his personal space. The air crackled between you as you lingered in his proximity. Your fingers enclosed around the hem of his T-shirt, lightly drawing it up to reveal his firm abdominal muscles and the dusting of red hair across his chest.

"I just want to feel normal again." You pleaded, causing Will to shiver as your fingertip trailed over his treasure trail and down to the button of his jeans.

He could feel himself stiffening, his body was reacting to your caress, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Darling." he drawled, feeling his resolve slipping away as your fingertips traced the outline of his ribs.

His T-shirt was on the floor, your hands smoothing up and down the plains of his chest setting his nerves alight with your touch. He clasped your hands underneath his, flattening your delicate palms against his chest.

"We need to stop." he murmured, exhaling deeply as the fabric of your clothes brushed against his bare skin. "Baby, I won't be able to stop if we keep doing this and you're not ready yet."

"I want..." You hesitated as you tried to formulate the words. "I want the intimacy back. I want you to not be afraid to touch me."

"That will take time." Will whispered, placing your palm in the space above his heart. "I love you and that won't ever change. You can't rush this; I don't expect you to."

You placed your forehead against his broad chest. Will was home, he was your support, your crutch as it were. Even then he couldn't help you fight against the despair that welled up inside you, against the darkness that was creeping up inside your bones.

"Jesus Will, I don't know how we're going to get through this." You said honestly. "I don't know how I'm supposed to survive."

"Together." Will told you, his cheek coming to rest upon the top of your head as his fingers combed through your hair. "That's the only way to do this."

You withdrew, your hands coming to rest upon Will's hips as the two of you looked at each other. Something had died within you; you weren’t sure what but there was a absence residing inside of you.

"Undress me?" you requested again, holding up her arms. "I want to feel close to you again, we don't have to have sex... but I want you to hold me. I need to go to sleep feeling safe."

Will's fingers curled around the bottom of your shirt, brushing your vulnerable skin. It brought him pleasure to see your teeth graze your bottom lip by just the softness of his touch.

"No funny business." he teased you, raising his eyebrows.

A tiny smile broke across your lips, and he was happy that he could still do that for her.

"No funny business, I promise." You returned as Will peeled the shirt from your body leaving you standing there in black sports bra and jeans.

Will's eyes stayed firmly on yours, never straying as his large warm hands enclosed upon your shoulders. You pressed your flesh against his, feeling yourself come alive as the warmth of his body heat rolled over you.

"I think it's best if you do the jeans." he informed you pointedly, jerking his body away because he didn't trust his heightening libido.

You watched each other undress. Will's eyes were on you the entire time as you stripped off each layer of clothing until you were standing in those black boy boxers he loved so much. He handed you a sky-blue t-shirt of his. You slipped it on as he took off his own jeans, leaving his underwear on. Your hand enclosed upon his wrist as he reached for his pyjama bottoms.

"I like you like this." You told him, nodding at his navy-blue boxers.

"That's because of what you can see." he commented, the edges of his mouth twitching.

You rolled her eyes, before drawing back the duvet and climbing inside. Will followed suit shuffling into bed alongside you. His body curled around yours, moulding to your shape. The contact of his skin against yours was soothing. You could already feel your eyelids fluttering closed as his hands began to stroke and caress your bare skin, his fingertips tracing the healing cuts from the glass. His touch always brought you peace and for the first time since the attack you felt yourself slipping into sleep.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead x you #will halstead #chicago med imagine #chicago med

[taplaos]

Been reminiscing about Second Draft oct with

@yeyepiz A’s and Thomas dynamic way back in the day Finally hit me why Thomas was so chill with A. If anyone remember a certain scene I drew back in the day it makes sense. So read to find out what scene it was

Wrote a short mini story if anyone is interested!

During the war they had low number of recruits, so they asked for volunteers. There was one young soldier that looked like 'A'. As a Sergent, Thomas' trained the new soldiers, so he formed a bond with his Unit.

A year later…documents were stolen, everyone was on edge to see who the traitor was. It was the young 'A' soldier…Thomas was devastated and hesitated to go after him. His superior told him that if he crossed the border, we lost the war. Thomas' unit was ready to hunt the traitor, but he ordered them to stand down. 'A' was his responsibility so Thomas must capture him alone.

Thomas had him on sight trying to escape and hide from Thomas in the depths of the snow. Thomas yells out, asking for the boy to surrender himself. He wishes not to hurt the young soldier.

In a shift motion, the boy grabbed Thomas' sword and sliced his side. Before he has a chance to flee, Thomas instinctively kicks the boy. Bucking him several meters away. ( A kick from Thomas was equal of being kicked by a horse. ) Realizing the boy was the first to penetrate Thomas’ shell. He couldn’t help staring at his wound and looked up to see the boy desperately scrambling away. Thomas couldn’t help but feel pity for him. Forced to listen to orders no matter the task at hand. In one last effort the boy shot at Thomas and said he can't go back to his country without the documents.

Thomas in a rage had enough, before the boy could make another move Thomas raised his pincers and sliced the young soldier.

White snow hues shifted to red as Thomas instantly regretted what he did but did he? Deep down he knew he’ll be punished for not following orders especially as a Hoodoo the stakes are higher. This was an order so it must be just…. right? “For the greater good” is what Thomas’ commander boldly say…He was just a boy force to fight in this forsaken war. He barely lived his life, and I took that away from him. They won’t see me as a killer but a hero for getting these damned papers back to base. Thomas, exhausted and wounded, grabbed the boy’s dog tag and papers.

He better hurry back to base before a recuse party comes for me. Staggering side to side, he was on the verge of collapsing. Only pain and misery paved our path…this is what it means to be a soldier.

I only wish to say "Sorry" to the young soldier…

(Here's that one panel scene I mentioned from the beginning from my Spectator Entry before the 3rd round )

The text is small but it says this Nurse 1: The patient is unstable! Hurry and give him the sedatives Nurse 2: Please relax, Mr. Rupert. Your wounds will be fixed shortly. You are a hero for hunting down that traitor. Surely our country would be in shambles if he passed the border.

Thomas: Hjälte ( Hero in swedish) Nurses: “You’re a hero, Mr. Rupert

Seeing A for the first time didn't hit Thomas at first. Too many bad memories so he suppressed it. Realizing who A was he would be super apologetic and maybe helped him clear his guilty conscience. Either way, he wants to protect the young boy this time around.....

Atlas we both didn't make it to round 5. Would be great to see human Thomas bawling his eyes out for the first time to just say sorry to A.

#Second Draft #A #Thomas #yeyepiz #Thomas Rupert #second draft oct

[waka-chan-out]

Hi meeeg!! First of all, CONGRATS ON 300! 🎊 I've been following you for quite awhile but this is my first time interacting with u 👉👈 And I was hoping I could participate in your event 💓

1. Ushiwaka

2. “you missed me? how much?”

3. I'm a she/ her, defimitely the sub; i have a daddy kink, breeding kink, a dash of degrading and praising too (recieving end),.. i just like being dominated over 🙉

-🚾

300 Follower Event

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Prompt 17: “You missed me? How much?”

this fic was part of my 300 follower event. check out the rest of the submissions here.

post-timeskip, obviously.

word count: 1k

content warning: daddy kink, brief grinding, very little foreplay, cowgirl, tired ushi lets you do your thing, light breeding kink, please let him rest

THANK YOU ANON 🥺 this was so sweet and i’m glad you’ve enjoyed my content. please feel free to contact me more often (i’ll set aside the 🚾 emoji for you if you’d like). i love interacting with people on here even though i’m honestly still struggling with how tumblr works lmao. ushiwaka is the love of my life so you have definitely come to the right place.

note: it’s so hard to find decent manga panels of our sweet little timeskip ushi 😭 forgive me he looks so uncomfortable in the banner.

You heard the keys turning in the lock and immediately dashed to the door. Ushijima didn’t even have time to set down his bags before you were throwing your arms around his neck. He buried his face in your hair and you could feel him smiling.

“Hi, love,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied. Your voice was muffled against his shirt. You stood there for a moment, breathing in each other. It was just two weeks, but it felt like forever. Back to back games, bad weather, and two broken buses later, Ushijima was finally home.

“Can I come in?” he asked. You laughed and stepped to the side.

“I’ll help you. I’m sure you’re tired.”

“It was hard sleeping on the bus. I might pass out the second I lay down.” You huffed a laugh as you helped him carry his bags to your bedroom.

“Oh, I hope not,” you said. He squinted at you and you raised your eyebrows in return. “What?”

“Nothing. I enjoy you.”

You tried and failed to fight off your grin. Ushijima zipped off his jacket and slumped facefirst onto the bed.

“Babe! At least change first.”

He groaned into the mattress.

“I can’t. Too tired.”

You laughed and climbed up onto the bed. You pushed at his shoulder and he shifted onto his back.

“I missed you,” you said, swinging a leg over him and taking a seat on his lap.

Ushijima slung his arm behind his head and stared up at you. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were softened in amusement.

“You missed me?” he asked. He laid his other hand on your hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “How much?”

In response, you shifted your hips, grinding against him. His lips twitched into a small smile as he kept his hands in place.

“I want to show you,” you said, moving again. You drew out long, slow motions against him, until you felt him matching your arousal beneath you. “I want you to relax and I can show you.”

His lips curled in a lazy smile.

“You can do whatever you’d like.”

You returned the smile and pushed off everything you were wearing below the waist. He stared at you with an unchanging amused expression as you pulled down the front of his sweats.

“That quick to use me?” he asked as you lined him up with your entrance. “Naughty girl. What would you have done if I hadn’t come home?”

“Waited.” You whimpered as you sunk onto him. “Waited for — fuck — daddy.”

He smiled and squeezed your hip harder as you shifted up and down on top of him.

“So good,” he sighed, eyes flickering shut for a moment as you continued moving. He looked so enamored with you, so tired and a little bored in an inexplicably sexy way.

Being in control was a foreign experience to you with Ushijima, but that didn’t matter. He was still in charge even if you were controlling the pacing, position, everything. The way he looked into your eyes told you he was allowing this, letting you use him to show your love, to demonstrate just how needy you were when he was gone.

You swore as you sunk down lower than you meant to, bracing yourself on his chest for a moment. Ushijima laughed.

“Get too eager? Come here.” He gestured for you to lean against him. You laid down onto his chest and pressed your lips to his. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he kept kissing you.

He gripped you tighter and began moving his hips, slow but completely overwhelming. You pulled away and buried your face against his neck with a gasp. The position shift hit exactly where you needed him. You just wanted a little more.

“Please,” you managed to say before swearing again.

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, daddy. A little — ah — a little faster.”

He chuckled into your ear and tightened his grip around you. You groaned as he picked up his pace.

“Is that what my pretty girl needed?”

“Yes.” Your voice was muffled and embarrassingly desperate against his t shirt.

“You’re gonna make me come.” Despite himself, his voice was becoming increasingly unsteady as he snapped his hips against you.

“Please, daddy. Inside me.”

His chest rumbled as he laughed and buried his face into your hair.

“I just got home and have to remind you that you’re mine? You really did miss me.”

“So much, daddy. Please.”

“Fine. Be a good girl and kiss me.”

You struggled to sit up against him but managed to connect your lips with his, sloppily sighing into each others mouths as you both neared the edge.

You beat Ushijima to it, whining and leaning your forehead against his as your body locked against him. He followed behind quickly, hands moving to hold your hips steady as he groaned and twitched inside of you.

You panted against each other for a moment, then Ushijima laughed.

“How are we going to move without ruining my clothes?”

Your eyes snapped open and you looked down, realizing he was still in his nice Adler’s sweatpants. You pressed your face into his chest and joined in his laughter.

“Can you get a new pair?”

“No, actually. So why don’t we . . .” He pulled his arms around you again and, without much warning, rolled so you were underneath him. You yelped as you moved before settling against the bed. He planted a kiss on your nose and smiled.

“Can you get cleaned up and let daddy rest?” he asked. You nodded happily and inhaled when he pressed another kiss on your lips. He carefully fell onto the bed and closed his eyes. You turned to stare at him as his big chest fell into a steady rhythm. You smiled.

“Welcome home.”

#meg’s 300 follower event :) #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #wakatoshi smut #wakatoshi x reader

[90stvshowgoth]

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

#dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #smut #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #ao3 repost #touya x reader #mha headcanons #lov x reader

[maxfreeman456]

Now We Know About the Facts Of Lougosi And How Most Fans Find It As Endgame

Trivia

Legosi and Louis are both canonically physically attracted to each other. They are the reason they realize their carnivore/herbivore fetish. In Chapter 91, Louis realizes his carnivore fetish in the car with Ibuki, but states that he thinks it all began with Legoshi. His words are "Because their bodies are strong, they have a profound sense of camaraderie. Because they hunger for meat, they always look like they're suffering somehow...why did it take me so long to realize this? I like carnivores. I think I have for a long time now, all because of that idiotic underclassman (Legosi)." In Chapter 114, Legosi realizes his herbivore fetish when admiring Louis.His words are "I look at his face and get the usual thought. Why are herbivores such beautiful life forms?"

It's revealed in one of the extras in the manga (Unpacking Legoshi's Belongings) that Legosi started carrying a nail file in his backpack after Louis drew attention to his hands [2].

In an omake surrounding Chapter 76, Itagaki makes a joke about Louis and Legoshi kissing/being intimate.The omake shows two girls talking to each other. One says, "I saw two guys hugging on the balcony today" (referring to Louis and Legoshi hugging on the balcony in Chapter 76). The other goes, "did you close the curtain for them?"

In the last panel of Chapter 77, the narration for Louis and Legosi's hug state that "even with their environments changed, they never lost their trust in each other. Only the moon sees them now.""The moon is beautiful" (tsuki ga kirei desu ne) is a euphemism for "I love you" in Japan.

Louis states that his leg hurts whenever something bad happens to Legosi.This was true for when Legosi got hurt fighting the drug cartel, and for when Legosi was shot by Melon. This is the only indication of anything supernatural in Beastars,

Louis can be seen blushing and fanning himself in one panel of Chapter 88, in the scene where Legosi is cross-dressed in heels and makeup.

In multiple panels of Chapter 96, the composition of the scenes compares Legosi's relationship with Louis to Riz's relationship with Tem. This is likely due to the fact that Legosi and Louis represents a good carnivore-herbivore relationship, unlike Riz and Tem. However, it is an interesting comparison because Riz's feelings toward Tem were heavily hinted to be romantic.Riz says in the scene, "it's the only thing...my feelings for him (Tem) are much stronger than your feelings for Louis-Senpai. Because he (Tem) never felt the same for me."

In Chapter 143, Louis can be seen blushing when he is with Legosi and the Shishigumi.Louis does not blush during his kiss with Juno and during his date with her in Chapter 194.

Legosi is the only character in the series (only Oguma, Kyuu, and San, who were part of Louis' past, as well as Bill who found out on his own and Ibuki) who knows about Louis being sold as meat in the black market in childhood.

Louis is the only character in the series who knows about Legosi's dreams of becoming an insectarium keeper (according to Legosi, Chapter 158).

Louis is the only character other than Jack and Yahya who knows Legoshi's grandfather.

Legosi is the only character in the series who has made Louis laugh on-screen, and is also the first and only character to see him cry. This occurs in Chapter 88, when Louis laughs at Legosi's cross dressing. The latter occurs in Chapter 95, when Legoshi is about to battle Riz.This excludes Louis' hysterical laughter when asking the Shishigumi to eat him, as it was laughter caused by insanity, not amusement.

The style in which Itagaki draws panels draws certain scenes between Legosi and Louis (light grey airbrush with flecks and hazy overlays) is the same style she uses for scenes between Riz and Tem and scenes between Legoshi and Haru.

The music that plays for Legoshi and Louis' play scene is the same that plays in scenes between Legoshi and Haru.The music is/is a rendition of "Beastars classical OST" by Satoru Kosaki.

Louis and Legoshi has appeared alongside each other in more promotional artwork than any two characters (Legoshi and Haru included).

Both Louis' and Legosi's sexuality is hard to categorize: Louis states he has grown to be exclusively attracted to carnivores (first mentioned in Chapter 91, confirmed in Chapter 143 as he vomits trying to have sex with a female red deer). When Oguma asks Louis whether he likes women in chapter 157, Louis does not answer. Similarly, Legosi is exclusively attracted to herbivores - mentioned and confirmed in chapter 114. Legosi also admits Pina (a male herbivore) to be attractive in chapter 66. Both are confirmed to have a carnivore/herbivore fetish.

While the author's original idea was to make Legoharu an endgame, there are many hints for a quite possible, future romantic relationship between Legosi and Louis after all - or at least for Lougosi being a semi-canon ship in a spin-off. It for sure has a big potential for eventually becoming more than just a fanon pairing. A lot of the Beastars fans are also questioning Louis's sexuality - especially after the chapter 157 in manga - and think he might be gay or bisexual. One thing's for sure - Paru Itagaki is teasing Legosi and Louis's relationship quite a lot and it's hard to say, if it's only ship teasing for the Lougosi shippers content, queerbaiting, or is she considering them really being together at some point. Additionally, we from interviews that Paru Itagaki does not outline all scenes beforehand (such as the LegoHaru scene in the love hotel), creating more potential for Lougosi in the future.

I knew there had to be a reason why so many fell for this ship early on, there are key facts explaining it

#beastars #beastars louis #lougosi #beastars legosi #paru itagaki

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 2)

Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

Just three days after the first installation and 4,000 words? That’s right baby! Because I run on validation and whew! Y’all provided.  The courting gift scene based on a recommendation from @tempered-char. Also with a hint of Geralt’s Delicate Sensibilities, as inspired by @valdomarx +Thicc Eskel as a bonus

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“Come in.”

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door.

Geralt wasn’t a romantic. He didn’t believe in love at first sight. From what he’d seen of the world he wasn’t so sure he believed in love at all. He could imagine, however, that if he were a painter or a poet he could have fallen in love right there.

The room was a tiny, dusty study, and standing in front of the window was, presumably, Julian. The light haloed him, dust mites floating down. Grey-blue doublet and slightly darker pants brought out clear, bright eyes, rimmed with thick lashes. 

He had a rounder jawline, the sort that was in style with painters at the moment. It leant a softness to his face. Maybe that was the fact that he was...nineteen? Geralt couldn’t remember.

He realized he was staring and bowed. It was awkard, still holding his gift and the gift from the countess. He looked up, Julian was smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Julian,” Geralt said. “I am Geralt of Rivia.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Geralt, and please, call me Jaskier,” said the young man. He stuck out his hand. Geralt quickly shifted the gifts to one hand and shook. 

The hand was soft but not uncalloused, at the fingertips and base of the thumb. Long fingers, good for playing the lute that sat, gleaming and well cared for, in the corner.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, tasting the name. It was a good name, bright and pretty and a deadly poison if treated incorrectly. “I have a gift for you, and her ladyship gave me a gift but I haven’t opened it yet.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and sat on a plush chair, gesturing Geralt to one opposite. “I have my own gift for you,” he said. “Father and Amaria didn’t think I could get my own courting gifts.”

Geralt decided to give up on subtlety. He wanted answers and he hoped this young man, Jaskier, was willing to give them.

“They want rid of you,” he said. It was a question but without the inflection at the end. “Enough to marry you off to a witcher.”

Jaskier sighed. “Just father, Amaria doesn’t have much to do with anything these days.”

“She seemed...” Geralt trailed off, not wanting to be disrespectful.

“It’s all about heirs,” Jaskier said, standing and beginning to pace. “Suitable heirs, which I’m not.” He sent Geralt a bitter little smile and flopped back down. “My father is not a nice man, you see. He’s never taken kindly to disagreements, and to him there’s only one ‘right’ sort of man. Men like him, manly and strong who kill first and don’t bother asking questions later. I questioned him, maybe three years ago, I didn’t think he should raise taxes again. He doesn’t forgive that sort of slight.” 

Jaskier leaned forward, elbows on knees and stared at the ground for a second.

“I think he’d decided long before that, but he wants me struck from the family tree.” Jaskier looked up at Geralt. Some of his confusion must have been showing on his face.

This world of heirs and court intrigue was far from anything Geralt knew, and seemed more complicated than necessary.

“Follow me,” Jaskier said, rising and stretching out his hand again. “You can leave the gifts, we’ll be back.” Geralt set dow the gifts and hesitantly stretched out his hand, unsure if the gesture was figurative or if he was actually supposed to take it. Jaskier took him gently by the wrist and led him from the room.

“The halls are a maze,” he said, letting go a coridor later. “Follow close behind me, you could get lost.” Geralt did so. He couldn’t imagine anything more embarassing than having a footman fetch him from one of these little stone tunnels.

They emerged in yet another dusty hall, lined with tapestries. Jaskier stopped in between two, and in front of a large, painted wooden panel. It had a tree.

A family tree. 

“My father,” Jaskier said, tracing his finger along dusty, painted branches. “Finds it very important that the next Earl be his direct blood, and also his kind of man.” He looked at Geralt significantly. “That meant ridding himself of Amaria’s sons from her first marriage, by the laws of our country, he could have been heir. That also means getting rid of me.”

This explanation did not help Geralt’s bafflement. Jaskier sighed again, although he didn’t seem to be doing so at Geralt.

“Amaria had two sons, both manly and well suited to my father, but not his direct blood. And they were older than me, set to inherit the role of Earl first. They met with horrible accidents.” A shadow passed of Jaskier’s boyish face. 

“Strange coincidence, how a large rock managed to tumble from the ramparts on to Isak not even a week after the same thing happened to Tomas. Especially since there’s not rocks up there. I checked.”

“Your father,” Geralt said, a little numbly. “Had his stepson’s murdered.” He knew nobility could be nasty but still... “And we’ve made a deal with him.”

Jaskier patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about it, Father mostly doesn’t do too much harm these days, and Filip, that’s my half brother, seems like he’ll turn out okay. Then again, he’s only seven.”

“Is he going to have you killed?” Geralt asked, knowing as he did that the Earl was trying, by way of marrying Jaskier to him.

“Not exactly. I don’t know if it’s because I’m blood or just because another ‘accident’ would look suspicious, but there’s an easier way.” Jaskier pointed to a name circled in blue. “That’s my aunt Matylda, father’s older sister. She got married, which officially makes her part of her husband’s family tree, not ours, and she can no longer inherit,” Jaskier paused. “If she weren’t already a woman, I mean.”

“But we’re both men,” Geralt said. “I could just as easily become part of your family tree and then your father’s problem.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, “In theory, but of course that isn’t how he played it. I’ll be an honorary witcher, and my name,” here he tapped some fine script. “Will be circled in blue and removed from the line.”

They both looked at the tree, looming darkly for a while. 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt offered, although he supposed it wasn’t worth much.

“I’m sorry too,” Jaskier said. “You shouldn’t be roped into all this.”

Geralt privately considered that, yes, while he would have preferred to avoid all this intrigue and politics, Jaskier didn’t seem too bad.

Jaskier led him back through the stone rabbit warren that made up the bowels of the castle.

“Is her ladyship...like that, because of the death of her sons?” Geralt asked when they paused at the top of a staircase. 

Jaskier cocked his head sadly, and then continued walking. Aftr a few more paced he said, “Yes, mostly. She wasn’t always...present, I suppose before but when they died so close together, and in such an awful way-- there’s nothing nice about a block of stone dropping on you from four stories up--something broke. She’s a nice lady, just happier living in her head, I think. Maybe she goes somewhere else, where her boys and her first husband are alive, I hope.”

They arrived back at the study without another word. 

They sat.

“I, um.” Geralt said. “Hmmm. I got you,” he proferred the package, not knowing what to say and begging Jaskier to save him from trying to figure it out. 

Jaskier took the package and pulled the string so that it fell open. The doublet slithered out. Vesemir had sent a letter asking for measurements as soon as Geralt had told him the idea.

“It’s basilisk leather,” Geralt said. “Witchers, um, our Path, it can be dangerous, so you should have this.”

Jaskier held up the fabric, watching the colors, deep blue and green, shift across the slick material. Privately, and for no reason Geralt could really guess at, he was very pleased, both that the doublet was in what seemed to be Jaskier’s colors, and also at the awe struck look on his face.

“It’s as light as silk,” Jaskier said, passing the fabric between his fingers. “And you said it’s leather?”

“Basilisk leather,” Geralt said. Monsters. They were talking about monsters, which he knew about. Thank the gods. “It’s like armor, and it won’t burn or get wet, water just runs off.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing as basilisk leather,” Jaskier said, holding the doublet up. “Where did you get it? It’s incredible.”

Geralt coughed modestly, and tried not to puff his chest. “I killed the basilisk. Making the leather needs different skills than normal tanning, it’s more like potion making.” He remembered that most people knew little about witcher skills and needs. “All witchers know some alchemy, and we make potions for combat so I...I tanned it. My brother Lambert drew up the design, I don’t know much about clothes.”

The tailor had nearly cried when they’d presented him with the fabric, exclaiming about it’s luster and the ‘glorious smooth hand’, whatever that meant. 

Geralt watched Jaskier’s face anxiously. It wasn’t a courtly gift, no crown of pearls or whatever nobles expected, but it had taken him two months to turn the basilisk skin into leather. It would have taken him half the time but he’d had to do it on the road. Lambert had fussed about the design for almost a week too, and it had been Eskel’s idea to ask for the buttons to be little black pearls like that.

Vesemir had smiled at the team effort, calling it the wolves gift to their new pup.

Jaskier looked up at him, face like a sunbeam. 

“Can I try it on?”

Geralt just nodded, and looked away modestly as Jaskier divested himself of his previous doublet before buttoning the basilisk leather.

He twirled, and in the light from the window the fabric seemed to glow, shifting and turning with each movement. 

“And it really will keep me safe?” he asked, looking down at himself, beaming. 

Geralt nodded. “It would take a battle axe a dozen tries to pierce it.”

Jaskier smiled at him again, and it made Geralt’s stomach tingle, although he had eaten some suspect meat on the ride to Lettenhove. Then Jaskier threw his arms around his neck.

Geralt wasn’t old fashioned. He could move with the times, whatever Lambert said, but manners had been stiffer sixty years ago and Geralt was just thankful that Jaskier wouldn’t be able to see the tips of his ears going red.

“It’s beautiful,” Jaskier said, pulling back. “Thank you.”

Geralt shrugged uncomfortably. Jaskier smelled like soap and some sort of oil. Linseed maybe, probably for the wood of his lute.

“I have a gift for you, it’s not as lovely, but I hope you like it.”

Geralt carefully took the package. It was wrapped much prettier than his had been. “The countess already...”

“That was from her,” Jaskier said dismissively. “And maybe even from Father, although I doubt it, he wouldn’t waste money on me. But this gift is from me.” He sat forward eagerly. “Go on, open it.”

Geralt wasn’t about to refuse that eager, open expression, so he pulled at the ribbon, feeling rather like a bear trying to tie a shoelace.

The bright paper just fell away and there was a stiff paper box. He opened that too. 

Three glass bottles sat inside, nestled in paper. The paper was only there to keep them from clinking because as he pulled one out he saw the telltale dark sheen.

Brimstone glass. It was unbreakable. Sometimes witchers carried their more noxious potions in it but rarely, it was frighteningly expensive, usually only mages could afford it.

“How?” he said. How did you afford it? How did you know it existed? Did you know witchers use potions? He looked up at Jaskier, who looked nervous.

“Are they alright?” he said. “Only I won them off a sorceror in a pub. He told me they were indestructible and threw one at the ground to prove it. I thought they’d be useful...Was it a trick?” He looked so upset at the prospect.

“These, Geralt said, “Are Brimstone Glass, they are indeed indestructible and very, very useful.” Jaskier’s face split into a grin again. 

“Thank you,” Geralt said. It didn’t seem like enough, but if he hugged the lad like Jaskier had him he would kill him.

“Should I open the box from the countess?”

“Do,” Jaskier said. “I want to know what it is.”

The latch flicked easily under Geralt’s hand and the lid popped open.

Jaskier gasped.

“It’s my mother’s ring,” he said. “I don’t remember her well, but I remember her hands...”

It was a beautiful ring, opal, if Geralt was any judge, but Eskel knew stones better than him. Silver wound around the stone, with smaller gems studding the setting to either side. 

“I will use it in the ceremony,” Geralt said, offering it to Jaskier. “If it fits.”

“It won’t fit,” Jaskier said sadly. “Mother had very small hands, but it’s a nice thought.”

Geralt looked at the ring and Jaskier’s left hand. “Try it?”

Jaskier did, sliding the ring onto his finger easily. He looked at it in amazement.

“Amaria must have had it enlarged,” he said.

“A good gift,” Geralt said, although not sure who the gift was really for.

There came a polite knock at the door, interupting the moment, whatever sort of moment it was.

“My lord, it is time for supper.”

Damn. 

Jaskier slipped the ring back into the box and Geralt looked away as he changed into his regular doublet. He didn’t look away fast enough and caught a scandalous glimpse of collarbone and soft chest hair where the chemise got pulled down a little. The air felt a little stuffy suddenly.

The gifts, and Geralt was proud to see that Jaskier folded the doublet carefully back into the paper, although nothing could have harmed it, were handed to a footman to be taken back to their respective rooms.Geralt offered Jaskier his arm, like he’d seen the nobility do, and then Jaskier led him to the dining hall.

To his relief, the hall wasn’t packed. They were what Lambert would call ‘fashionably late’ (and what Vesemir would call a reason for three extra laps) and all the guests were seated. A table held Lady Amaria and a man who must be the Earl, although there was little visible resemblance to Jaskier. They were seated with perhap half a dozen other nobles, as well as a red headed boy of about seven, Filip, probably, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. There was another table of presumably more minor nobility, and then a small table with the wolves, two seats still empty.

All eyes turned to look at the pair. Jaskier bowed deeply, and since his arm was still linked with Geralt’s he was made to bow too, or else risk having his arm pulled from its socket. Then they made their way to the smallest table.

Geralt pulled out Jaskier’s chair for him and saw Vesemir’s approving nod, as well as Lambert’s smirk. He didn’t see the swift kick Eskel delivered below the table, but caught the way Lambert’s eyes watered suddenly, and smiled at his brother in thanks for the retribution. Then he sat.

“Julian,” Vesemir said, reaching over the table to shake hands. “I am Vesemir, Geralt’s teacher. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

“I am happy to make your aquaintance, Master Vesemir,” Jaskier said, and Geralt was impressed that he only winced a little bit as Vesemir inadvertently crushed his knuckles in a grip that could moor a boat. He did, however, gently shake out his fingers under the table once he’d been released.

“If you please, however,” Jaskier continued as if nothing had happened. “I prefer my nickname, Jaskier.”

“Jaskier it is, then,” Vesemir said, moustache twitching up at the corners. Geralt suspected he was thinking the same as he had done. Buttercups, pretty and poisonous.

“You were educated at Oxenfurt, is that correct?” Eskel said.

“Yes, in the fine arts, although I specialized in music composition and lute performance. I didn’t catch your name...?” The most delicate question mark was added to the end of the statement. Eskel blushed, Jaskier wouldn’t know it, but Geralt could see the back of his neck reddening.

“Eskel,” he said quickly. “And the asshole who’s snickering is Lambert.”

Jaskier didn’t look even a little intimidated by either of Geralt’s brothers, which was impressive, because Lambert could scowl like it was a contest and Eskel, although only an inch taller than Geralt, was naturally hugely muscled in a way even the mutagens hadn’t managed for Geralt. His chest and arms looked like they’d withstand a siege weapon.

Jaskier turned a smile on Lambert, who was sputtering indignantly at Eskel’s entirely fair description.

“I’m told you helped with my beautiful courting gift,” he said. Then he turned the smile on all of the wolves. “A team effort I imagine.” 

This stunned all three brothers, and made Vesemir smile. Lambert shrugged uncomfortably. For all his prickliness, he couldn’t take a compliment. 

“Eskel’s idea for the buttons,” he muttered, and Geralt knew he’d been entirely won over.

“The buttons are beautiful,” Jaskier said, smiling warmly at Eskel now, who looked like he’d rather be facing a mountain troll. 

“Was Vesemir that got your measurements,” he said, looking down at the tablecloth. Jaskier beamed at the whole table then.

“Truly a team effort, thank you all, it’s beautiful and I cannot wait to wear it.” With that the whole table was well and truly won over by Jaskier. Geralt couldn’t help but brag a little.

“Jaskier gave me Brimstone Glass bottles as a courting gift,” he said, and preened slightly under the others’ slightly jealous noises of amazement. Jaskier flushed a very pretty pink. 

“I just thought they’d be useful,” he said, although his smile was pleased.

Serving girls entered the hall with trays and the chatter in the hall expanded excitedly. A plump young woman set a tray down at their table and Eskel hummed in appreciation.

“It smells delicious,” he said. She smiled at him, looked him up and down, and then winked.

“Oh doesn’t it just, I could just eat it all up,” she said, not looking at the food even as she lifted the cloche from the appetizers. Then she winked and disappeared back into the kitchen. Another girl appeared and filled the goblets but the witchers hardly noticed for laughing at Eskel’s face.

“Seems Mabel took a liking to you,” Jaskier said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Through his own laughter, Geralt watched Jaskier’s father glaring at their table. Good. The old fuck could choke on it, he didn’t look like he’d ever laughed a day in his life. 

“Careful though,” Jaskier was saying. “She looked ready to take a bite out of you.”

“But,” Eskel gestured, baffled to his face.

“Oh pish,” Jaskier said, taking a swig of wine. “Nobody cares about that sort of thing, do they? Plenty of ladies around here like a few scars, makes men look rugged and dangerous.”

“Rugged?” Eskel rubbed his hand over his face, contemplating. 

“Definitely,” said Jaskier, nodding. He took one of the appetizers. Geralt moved a few to his own plate and slowly their little table descended into a quiet contentment. The appetizers were good, hors d'oeuvres , Geralt remembered Lambert telling him once. They were little bits of paste, meat and vegetable mostly, inside pastry casings.

He smiled when he noticed that he and his brothers were all looking between Jaskier and Vesemir to make sure they hadn’t missed any manners. Eskel swiped Lambert’s elbows off the table.

Eventually the appetizers were replaced with soup. The saucy kitchen girl, Mabel, Jaskier had called her, made a positively salacious remark to Eskel. Something daring about him licking everything clean. Eskel smiled faintly and turned redder than the beet soup.

“You should flirt back,” Jaskier said, once Mabel was gone. “If you’re actually interested, I mean.”

“It’s not that I’m not. Interested I mean,” Eskel squeaked. “But I can’t offer her anything, no marriage or security.”

Jaskier looked at him. It was definitely a look, although not a nasty one. “She asked you to lick her clean and you think that was an invitation to marriage?”

“I wouldn’t want to defile...”

“Oh shut up Eskel, sex doesn’t defile anything. It’s natural and normal and if you think it some how ‘decreases the value’ of a woman than you aren’t the man I thought you to be.” Lambert cut in. “Have some fun, maybe she can remove the stick you’ve lodged up your ass.”

“You’re right, of course,” Eskel said. But now Jaskier was looking worried.

“It won’t be a problem, right?” he asked Geralt. “That I’m not, um a virgin, I mean?”

“No,” Geralt said, probably missing the mark on reassuring, but doing his best. “Unless you mind that I’m not one either. And there is no fidelity clause, and no consummation, you needn’t sleep with me, and you’re free to see other people.”

Jaskier looked at first relieved and then impish, licking the soup from his spoon in a way that made significant parts of Geralt’s brain go numb. “I dunno,” he said, leaning towards Geralt and bumping him with a shoulder. “I can’t imagine consumation with you would be such a chore.”

Melitele’s great gauzy veil, this boy would be the death of him.

There was a pause between soup and the main course, but when Mabel picked up the dishes Eskel leaned towards her and asked if he’d licked it clean enough, to the woman’s obvious approval.

They sat and chatted, Jaskier, Eskel, and Vesemir debated over some old literature that Geralt had never heard of, and then they were interuppted with a cough.

The earl stood, face like stone, beside their table. 

They rose. Vesemir bowed.

“My Lord,” he said. “It is a pleasure to make your aquaintance. I am Vesemir, of the school of the wolf.”

Lord Pankratz inclined his head. “Greetings, Master Vesemir,” he said. “I wish to discuss some of the terms of the contract with you.”

He snapped his fingers and a footman brought him a chair, without waiting for Vesemir’s response.

The wolves sat, feeling wary. Jaskier was looking down at his hands, shoulders shrunk in.

They sat in suspense as Vesemir and Lord Pankratz hashed out details of the legal protections. The main course appeared and the earl stood, and bowed.

“Why don’t we continue this after desert,” he said, smiling smoothly. And it was a very smooth smile. Like an oil slick.

Dinner after that was subdued, despite Eskel returning Mabel’s flirtations. Jaskier looked down at his plate most of the time and the witchers picked up on his unease.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” Geralt whispered.

“I don’t know, but he’s planning something, and I don’t like it.”

Then coffee was served after dessert, and the Earl de Lettenhove sat at their table again. 

“Now, for what I really wanted to discuss, I know political marriages can be...challenging,” the earl said in a voice like a snake. “But I wanted to make it clear, should either member express a wish to anul the marriage, the contract will become void.” Here he squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder so hard he winced. “I couldn’t bear for my dear Julian to be unhappy, you see. He’s high maintainance I know, but I wish him the best.”

The earl smiled a despicable little smile. “Now, I think you two shouldn’t really see more of each other before the wedding, yes? Bad luck and all.”

The earl then hauled Jaskier away by his collar.

“What a cunt,” Lambert said.

“I figured that was in the contract anyway,” Geralt said. “Isn’t that normally how it works?”

Vesemir nodded. “Indeed, it’s how these marriages go. But I expect the earl is betting that the two of you wont be able to stand eachother, and so he gets rid of his son and doesn’t have to help witchers all in one go.”

“Yes, Jaskier explained things.”

And then Geralt told his family what Jaskier had told him. The suspicious accidents, the laws, the family tree.

“I agree with Lambert,” Eskel said. “What a gigantic fucking cunt.”

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

What’s with my thing about clothing descriptions and fancy cloth? I’m a fashion design major, that’s what. 

We’ve got answers about Amaria, and the reason for the engagement, but what’s the wedding going to be like? oooh, cliffhanger, but not too much so I hope it makes up for last time when I was so bad to you all.

Tag List!  @llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar @aziz-the-fangirl @mordoriscalling @bastardofmothman @negativenuggetz @morte-mistrata  @hayleynzlive @filledepluie @bygodstillam@sociowithatardisachevyandawand @faery-god @honeysuckletook @theflurtifly @saibowtie @werevampiwolf @frywen-babbles @the-kewlest@innocentbi-stander @1stbonesfan @aqueenrisesintheeast  @marauders-fan-account @ineffable-lasagna 

@ailorian @toothhurtyam I’m having trouble adding you, I can’t tag if this is a password protected side blog or if you have Allow Blog to Appear in Search Results off, I think. 

#geraskier #the witcher #arranged marriage #arranged marriage au #its part two y'all #and the earl is a slimy sob

[kurisus]

Chapter 96 thoughts

This chapter made me want to not be alive so uh let’s talk about it, group therapy style. Spoilers under the cut, obviously.

This was easily the worst chapter in a long time, but it was a different type of pain than the last bad chapter I flipped out over (Hagusa’s first appearance in 88-2). This was more like a slow, burning feeling of dread. I’m not quite sure how to describe it but this chapter definitely made me feel no less than 7 new emotions.

Things started off poorly with Yuka seeing Hiyori as being similar to her mom. Which, as we learned a few chapters ago, means the type of person to keep pushing away her pain and inconvenience with a smile. At least I’m glad Yuka decided to make her breakfast anyway.

The comparison isn’t entirely one-for-one though. Yuka and Haru’s mother was also the type of person to completely close herself off from her surroundings, not really doing anything to prevent her kids from being hurt. We know our Hiyori would never let that slide--I’m fondly remembering the multiple times she’s gone after trash dad despite how he keeps finding new ways to hurt her.

On that note, I still don’t think Yukine’s father is alive, but if he was I would love for Hiyori to kick his ass too.

Anyway, the anecdote about Haru forgetting their dad’s birthday was already rough for me. I’d forget too, if I had someone like that holding it against me every time. And of course it shouldn’t surprise me he was cruel enough to force his children to sleep outside at night, but somehow it’s just another horrible, horrible thing we were forced to learn.

Adachitoka’s really pulling no punches with Yukine’s backstory, man. Every time I think we’ve heard the worst of it, they come back with something new and equally horrible.

I’m really not sure what to make of Yuka’s “This isn’t something to talk about just after waking up” statement. What was she implying was happening to Haru? My first thought was that she realized he’s in danger somehow, and is afraid he’s going to die, but if that were true she’d be urging the girls out the door to go look for him. Feel free to tell me if it was obvious, but I was confused.

I still have no idea how Nora and Hiyori are gonna explain what happened to Haru, but I feel like Yuka will just catch a glimpse of him and realize, somehow.

I also feel like when they meet, Yukine will turn his anger on his sister at first, but hopefully Hiyori will be there to mediate things. I can’t wait for her to get some action, provided things don’t go belly-up again (they will).

Okay so I was completely NOT expecting to get the letter revealed this month so I felt blindsided.

I remember speculating the letter would be something normal, like what Yato saw in those fragments when naming Yukine. But boy, was I wrong.

He never got any of her letters, and didn’t Yuka also say she never got any of his?

Anyway, my first thought when I saw that final letter was that their dad forced him to write it, but looking at it again now I’m not so sure. I think the paneling is meant to imply their dad read out all his letters, and that was the one he was holding when the POV switched to a flashback. I also misread “I can’t take it anymore” as a sort of suicide note, but I think it was just frustration.

Either way, there’s a conspiracy going on that their dad was behind. Somehow, he got hold of all Haru’s letters, and likewise prevented Yuka’s from ever reaching him. So the two siblings wrote to each other and never got a response, each believing they had been abandoned.

It’s also horrifying that Yuka wrote about mundane things out of concern for her brother’s life and safety, yet Haru was openly writing about how much he wanted to run away. Perfect fuel for their dad’s story once he went missing, huh?

This also shows he wasn’t, like, handing the letters to his dad to mail off. He was sending them by himself, in secret, yet they all got returned one day. So like, was their mom hoarding his letters to prevent Yuka from getting them? What exactly happened here? I’m wondering if their mom was so committed to putting everything behind them that she kept all of Haru’s arriving letters and hid them away, hoping the siblings would forget about each other. But then, did she send them back? Why would she do such a thing?

I mentioned this a while ago, but nothing about this whole letter business adds up, and now there’s a whole new layer to it.

Anyway, on to what was, for me, the crux of this chapter--the page with just the “thud” and “smack” sfx, followed by an unnerving silence. This was, as is shown later, the final abuse that Haru suffered. His father got hold of the letters, ripped them up in front of his son, then beat him up and dragged him to the mountains where he dumped him in the fridge, already concocting his story about how Haru ran away. Now we know why Haru was barefoot and in his pajamas when it showed the fridge door shutting. Good lord.

This page had a deep impact on me, because though Adachitoka is not one to shy away from direct depictions of abuse (think Father smacking Yuuki against a pole or setting wolves on a crying Yato), everything about this was deeply unpleasant in a new way. I think it’s because we already knew that everyone ignored what was happening at the Tajima house, as well as the consequences of that specific instance of abuse.

I think it was @eerna who said this page goes straight to the compilation of pages that make me feel like I’ll never be happy again? bc yeah.

I gotta stop talking about this before I cry so I’m instead pivoting to taking another break from being mad at Kazuma because he was actually doing good stuff this chapter. Seems like he’s finally come around and agrees they need to get Yukine back, and is offering his help to Yato.

Poor Yato, though, remembering how their last exchange before Father named Yukine was Yukine renouncing that name in a fit of anger. I don’t think calling Sekki would work at the moment, but certainly when Yuka, Hiyori, and Nora help Yukine see reason, I can picture Yato summoning him back and away from Amaterasu.

So, they better all get their butts moving, because Father’s about to do a test run of Hagusa’s fury against those gods unfortunate enough to be in his way. Pleaaaaase let them be in time. I don’t have it in me to go through a box incident again.

If memory serves, Arahabaki is also in the area, meaning Shiigun may face off against Yuuki. But their time is running out, so Yukine’s fractured mental state will likely interfere with that plan.

One last thing before I close out this very long post. Father drew a clear parallel between himself and Yukine with their shared feelings of despair, yet the visual puts him in the same place as Yukine’s father, and Freckles as Yukine. Makes me wonder if she received similar treatment from Father as Yato and Nora did. Was their relationship not quite so “star-crossed lovers” as Father would have us believe? Was he perhaps partially to blame for her death?

In any case, seeing Yukine’s father carrying him to what will be his grave made me feel violent. I really hope that bastard is long dead, because I don’t want Yukine to become a murderer even though it would be completely justified after seeing incident after incident of the environment he grew up in.

Always questions, questions, and more questions. Feel free to send your own thoughts! See yall in October~

#Noragami #Noragami spoilers #Noragami manga #live update

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

//

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

#loki #loki series #lokane #tva loki #loki fanfic #loki ff #lokane ff #lokane fanfic #loki x jane #jane foster #shine a light #plainlo inthemorning #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark

[notchesandbullets]

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 2 : Aizawa’s reluctant dad side kicks in when he sees you’re clearly distressed, fast friends with Midoriya, fluff with the girls of 1-A, Todoroki and Sato.

Word Count: 5.7k 

Bowing your head in defeat thinking that there was nothing you could do to possibly change his mind, you started to shuffle towards him when you were stopped.

"Ojiro-san..." You whispered.

He refused to move his tail. He refused to let you go.

"Aizawa-sensei, please," He was desperate, worried out of his mind at what would happen if you were left alone.

If he wasn't there to protect you.

He gritted his teeth, holding back as best as he could. "Don't do this."

"Do you want her to be safe or do you want her to be with you?" Aizawa's eyes were serious. "Because those are two different things."

The boy fell silent beside you.

"Here, she's exposed. Her whereabouts have been leaked to your classmates and while I don't blame you for the incident that occurred, you have taken responsibility for her." The older man continued despite your head ducking down in shame. "This is what's best, not only for her, but for the rest of you."

He directed that last part over your shoulder and you glanced over to see all the boys from earlier as well as a couple more unfamiliar faces that obviously had been roused from their sleep due to all the noise.

Aizawa sighed, really not wanting to argue or go up against one of his most dedicated students this late at night. "You have to remember this dormitory was built to ease your parents' worries. They entrusted your safety to us and we are responsible for you."

The air suddenly got a lot more difficult to breath.

"I told you that you would have to earn my trust back." He said, rough but even voice cutting through the silence like a knife, alluding at something you didn't understand.

You didn't want this. You didn't want to make things hard on everyone or cause a fuss.

"I'll go."

Ojiro's expression of surprise gave way to pain. "Y/N..."

"They'll be safer if I leave, right?" You met Aizawa's blank stare bravely despite your knees knocking together. "I want to protect them, too."

Protests rose from the other students at your determination, the majority of them pleading for you to stay, much to your surprise. But their teacher wouldn't budge and slowly, they had no choice but to give up. As much as they wanted to get to know you better, it seemed like that would have to wait.

You looked up at Ojiro, sad to have to leave but knew it was the best thing to do for now. As you moved to take off and return his hoodie to him, he halted your movements.

"Keep it." He urged, a slight blush present on his cheeks. "I don't want you to get sick."

With a small smile, you thanked him quietly, promising to give it back when you were able to see him next. He returned your smile at the prospect of there being a next time before unwinding his tail from around you.

You followed Aizawa to where he was staying so that he could make a phone call from his office. You took a second to peer around the cluttered room curiously but dared not explore. Unlike Ojiro, he didn't seem like he would take kindly to you poking around his things.

Suppressing your instinctive curiosity, you gulped when he hung up the phone, approaching you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"For now, you can't stay on the school grounds until we figure out some kind of legal guardianship." He relayed, being rather straightforward and clear cut with you. "I'll walk you to an inn for tonight."

"Ah..." You trailed off as he fixed his gaze on you, shuffling your feet awkwardly. "T-Thank you Aizawa-shi, but I-I can... take care of myself. I don't want anyone to get in any trouble and I know it will reflect badly on UA if you are caught harboring me, so..."

Letting out a heavy sigh, he walked past you as you rambled, opening the door. "Just hurry up."

You walked quickly, not wanting to fall behind as he strode on ahead of you, paying your entire speech no mind. You didn't know whether or not to be thankful or offended but greatly leaned towards the former. It was true that you had enough survival skills to look after yourself but life was much harder when there wasn't anyone in it.

It took about an half an hour by taxi but the night was nice and Aizawa instructed you to hide your ears and tail as well as not talk to anyone else.

You followed him to a quaint inn at the outskirts of UA's property, checking in at the deserted lobby, Aizawa paying for your room for the night. Unable to help it, you started to wander, curiosity taking over.

The walls were decorated with vintage wallpaper, curling slightly at the edges when one panel would fade into another. But while the air inside felt musty and the carpet was stained with faint shades of tea and coffee, the fresh flowers at the center of the lobby brought a smile to your face.

Once you were out of earshot but still within his field of vision, Aizawa turned to the owner.

"Make sure she gets whatever she asks for." He told him gruffly, handing him a bunch of yen to compensate for the trouble. "Food, blankets, whatever she needs."

"Y-Yes, of course, sir." The owner babbled, stunned by the sheer amount of money he had just handed to him.

You spun around, yelping frightfully when you face-planted into Aizawa's chest. He steadied you, sending you a glare that one could only decipher as a warning. Backing away quickly, you apologized profusely until he cut you off, telling you not to make so much noise.

It was late and he had a headache.

Chastised, you followed him up the creaky stairs, coming to a door with green paint peeling off of it.

Aizawa arched an eyebrow, then internally shrugged, using the key to open it. Inside, there wasn't much. A twin sized bed was crammed next to a lumpy couch he was assuming had a pull out cot, a table and a single chair in the corner along with a small bathroom.

He sighed again, wishing that he brought his sleeping bag. That would've been more comfortable than this.

Flicking on the light, he drew the curtains closed. Sparing a glance over his shoulder to make sure you were still alive since you hadn't talked since he entered, his eyes narrowed when he found you with your back pressed against the door, eyes widened in alarm.

Your knuckles were white from where you were clutching the doorknob, nearly breaking it in the process and the sound of it rattling is what drove him to finally break the silence.

Recognizing the patterns of your behavior, he turned around to face you, keeping his shoulders relaxed and maintaining eye contact with you. Trying to appear as non-threatening as he could possibly get, he forced his jaw to unclench.

You let out a shaky breath you didn't know you had been holding in when his expression softened. If you didn't know any better, it almost seemed like he was being kind.

"I don't know what you've been through but I'm not going to do anything to you, kid." Aizawa murmured and you were taken aback by how the edge to his voice disappeared when he was talking with you. "I also know that might be hard to believe coming from a stranger, but it's late and you need to sleep."

He had a feeling you would react like this and while initially he had planned on leaving and going back to the dormitory to get some shut eye before the sun came up, something compelled him to stay.

He wasn't sure it was because of your reaction but regardless, he wasn't leaving now.

This area wasn't well protected and if anyone saw you coming in and him leaving, they wouldn't hesitate to take you. He didn't know how well informed the Quirk Traffickers were but he wasn't going to take any chances.

Waving his hand towards the bed lined with fluffy pillows, you hesitated before timidly laying down as he suggested. Now, you realized what he was doing. With you here and him there, he had maximized the space between the two of you and didn't block your access to the door in case you needed to flee.

Your ears flicked nervously as you got under the covers, trusting him a little bit more. "What about you?"

He exhaled, eyes closing, swollen bags already present under them. "I won't move from here. I'd leave you alone, kid, but I'm not sure that's a good idea since those guys that are after you are pretty persistent."

Your eyebrows knitted together, contemplating if it was a good idea to ask him.

He had just started dozing off when your shy voice asked, "You're a hero, right?"

Humming nonchalantly, he hoped you would drop it there but you didn't.

"Is..." You played with your fingers, tail flicking back and forth. "Is there any way I can become one?"

That piqued his curiosity.

You stiffened when he cracked an eye open, piercing your soul.

"Why don't we talk about it more in the morning, kid?" He finally said.

Unable to conceal your eagerness, you beamed at him and he crossed his arms over his chest, which was rumbling with laughter. You shifted, getting comfortable and promptly fell asleep. For the first time in a while, you didn't stir once during the night.

He stared at you for a little while longer, gaze growing fond. For a kid to have gone through as much as you have, you sure appeared pure and untainted. Your energy was infectious.

A nightmare for the constantly exhausted underground hero.

Hmm... maybe this kid won't be so bad after all.

The next morning, you were awoken by the light of the sun for the first time in years only to be shocked when a steaming hot plate of sausages and fried rice with eggs were placed by your bedside.

"Aizawa-shi?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

"You don't have to be so formal, kid." He told you. "Aizawa-sensei is fine."

During the night, he had moved from the corner to keep an eye on the door. Sometime around 3 am, he had finally fallen asleep and when he woke up, there was an annoying crick in his neck.

Your nose scrunched up as you sat up, accepting the plate of food he offered you. "But you're not my sensei."

He shot you a look at your cheeky reply and instantly, you shut your mouth, stuffing your mouth only to cry out when you burned your tongue. He scolded you immediately and rushed to get you a glass of cold water.

You smiled sheepishly as he made you drink some before instructing you to blow on your hot food before shoveling it in your mouth like that. This time when you resumed your breakfast, the silence wasn't harsh or stifling like last night. It was lighter.

"I would be if you attended UA."

You dropped your chopsticks. "Huh?"

After more thought and a lot more details from him, you learned that when he had contacted Principal Nezu late last night for the third time. He had asked if it would be possible to enroll you in the general studies course until they could figure out a safe place for you.

Going to school would put you on a lot of lists due to the information the school had to provide for the government and it wasn't his initial plan since you wouldn't be able to hide in the blink of an eye with no paper trail, but he couldn't think of anything else after that fiasco that Ojiro had informed him of last night.

Plus, with you enrolled in their school with literally pro-heroes everywhere, you would be well protected simply within UA's walls. And if you ever went missing, he could already think of twenty students who would come to your aid.

You were silent at first, mulling it over. Your fluffy ears twitched every so often as you ruled out other possibilities until a wide smile spread from ear to ear.

You bowed at him, popping back up with your eyes shining, heart touched that these people you barely knew were going so far for someone like you.

"I would be honored, Aizawa-sensei."

You spent most of the weekend alone since he had other responsibilities that required his attention but he always came by at lunch to check on you and then again at night to keep watch while you slept. You argued that he didn't need to do all of that but strangely enough, he insisted and you conceded, unsure of how much you could push the issue since he was your senior.

Before you knew it, the weekend and Class 1-A's break was over. It had been four days since you ran into Ojiro and you couldn't lie. You missed him.

Badly.

Aiawa had classes to teach and you were looking forward to seeing Ojiro and Yaoyorozu and the other girls again.

For the past few days, he hadn't let you leave the motel room.

The innkeeper, who you learned his name was Jin, often came to keep you company when you requested some food. You felt bad for making him do so much work but he never seemed to mind it. In fact, he rather seemed happy to have someone to talk to.

You were supposed to leave at the same time as Aizawa the day classes resumed but were so taken with the invention of the bathtub on the way out that he had to leave before you. Heaven forbid he got fired because he was late in helping you figure out how a shower worked.

Which is why you were confused when he kept finding excuses to stay longer until he admitted to being uneasy leaving you to walk to UA alone. You teased him and he rolled his eyes. But in all seriousness, who was going to try their luck in broad daylight?

No one was going to snatch you in front of a bunch of people.

He had nothing to worry about.

After a very long and thorough lecture of safety he hammered into your head to keep the door locked at all times and to stay away from the windows, only to follow it up with all the emergency protocols you were to follow if you were being followed or attacked.

To be honest, you nodded your head through it to show that you were listening just to appease him.

He finally left an hour later and you were free to do what you wished without him quietly worrying away in the corner that you were going to hurt yourself.

It was becoming a known thing that despite your keen wolf senses, you were very clumsy.

Aizawa found it oddly amusing and horrifying at the same time.

Deciding a bath was in order, you filled up the tub with warm water, washing away all the grime and blood that had accumulated over time with a soft hum of contentment.

Once that was done, you got dressed and finally left, bidding the Jin, who was at the counter a warm farewell and thanking him for the many meals.

He waved goodbye to you, telling you he hoped you would come back and visit soon even if it wasn't to stay at the inn and you nodded eagerly, promising to visit him in the future.

You skipped down the pavement, making sure your ears were sufficiently hidden under the hood and tail tucked away thanks to the excessive length of the huge sweatshirt. You thanked the heavens above that you had been born with normal eyes.

The last thing you wanted was to have to wear sunglasses all the time.

Three hours later, you were standing out the gates of the school, completely smushed against the security gate and getting trampled on by the press in their chaos to try and find a way to break in.

Geez, their persistence was annoying.

You would've gone another way if you knew one. This was the only route in and out of the school as far as you were aware.

Squealing when you took a tumble as someone shoved you a little too hard, you winced as you tried to catch yourself from falling, only to scrape your knees when you landed on the rough cement.

Ouch... You grimaced, pulling down on your hood to ensure that it wouldn't slip off and expose your ears. That one hurt.

Puffing out your cheeks, you concluded you weren't going to get anywhere so long as they were here. You took your chances, taking off for Heights Alliance.

Just as you thought, the building was locked but you sniffed the air, eyes lighting up as you spotted the same boy from last week. You had caught him talking to Ojiro before and he had taken the liberty of introducing the two of you. He was sitting on the front steps with a somewhat distant look in his eyes and a small notebook in his hands.

"Midoriya-san!!"

He turned at the sound of your voice, visibly lighting up when he saw you.

"Y/N-chan!!" He greeted enthusiastically, then dropped his hand in concern at your disheveled appearance and bloodied knees, running out to meet you. "What happened?!"

"Ah," You winced, flashing him a canine smile full of guilt as if it was your fault you got hurt. "I got pushed around by those people crowding the front."

Pulling a key from his pocket, the boy laughed along with you before unlocking the front door. "Aizawa-sensei tells us not to talk to them, but I'm pretty sure Kacchan has threatened them before."

You tilted your head, puzzled. "Kacchan?"

That name didn't ring a bell.

He enthusiastically explained the rivalry of his childhood friend as he navigated you through the common area. You sympathized with his story, listening attentively when he mentioned how desperately he wanted to be friends with him and admired him.

Ah, so Kacchan was the explosive pomeranian.

You smiled when he told you that recently things were starting to change between them and hugged him happily when he mentioned that maybe they would finally get to be friends one day.

"How are you so nice to him after he tormented you like that?" You asked, genuinely curious and in awe at how his bullying didn't harden his heart.

Midoriya shuffled towards the kitchen. "Kacchan acts mean but he really isn't. He's really strong so I think he just doesn't want to look weak."

His thoughts rang through your head and you fell silent when he didn't elaborate.

Actions speak louder than words, huh?

Sitting down on one of the couches, you followed him with your eyes as he rummaged through something under the sink. "What are you doing? And aren't you supposed to be in class?"

He straightened up with a small huff, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Ah, well, they're training today and Aizawa-sensei says I'm not allowed to participate until I learn how to fight without injuring myself."

You tapped a finger to your chin as he came over with a duffle bag in his hand, sitting a respectable distance away from you. "But if you don't train, then how will you get there?"

Midoriya just smiled easily, eyes turning into crescents. "He doesn't really mean that but today he actually wanted me to make sure you got here okay."

You jolted at that.

"He what?!"

"Yeah," His brow furrowed but then smoothed over once he found what he was looking for. "I know it probably seems like Aizawa-sensei doesn't care that much but he actually does, and a lot, for us."

He told you about the USJ incident and the lengths he had gone to protect them when the League attacked.

You were speechless. Sure, this was not that new to you since you had experienced his rugged, begrudging version of kindness over the past couple of days but to have someone go out of their way to make sure you were safe and for them to actually agree to it was a whole other thing.

To hear that you weren't the only one who experienced that side of him made your heart feel warm.

Aww... he's such a softie.

"Ojiro-kun wanted to do it but Sensei said he needed to work with Ectoplasm on his tail movements." Midoriya explained, not noticing the pink that dusted your cheeks as he mentioned his name. "Here."

Blinking, you stared at him for a beat before you realized he was holding something out to you. "Oh!!"

You took the pair of athletic sweatpants with a questioning glance. "What are these for?"

He blushed, stammering. He didn't think he would have to explain it. "W-Well, y-you know, Yaoyorozu-san always k-keeps an emergency bag for these kinds of things and I-I don't think she would mind."

You giggled and his nerves faded a little in wake of your bright laughter. He gave you some band-aids and ointment to apply on your scrapes after you cleaned it.

"That's really thoughtful, thank you." You said.

He scratched the back of his neck shyly, matching your smile before packing away the rest of the things while you went to go change.

Fortunately for you, the slight injury wasn't severe. There was only a slight discoloration from where you had impacted the pavement surrounding the patches where a couple layers of skin had come off.

As soon as you finished taking care of it and put on the pants he had given you over your usual shorts, you exited the bathroom only to find Midoriya in the same place you had left him.

"So, class?" You asked, now that he had fulfilled his mission from Aizawa.

He smiled sheepishly, holding up his phone. "Ah, about that..."

Apparently, the police were held up by traffic at the moment and couldn't deal with the press that were still disrupting the students and staff. One had been foolish enough to try and cross the sensor without a pass, causing the UA barrier to activate. No one could get in or out for the time being.

Since they just built the dorms recently, the teachers were working to extend the barrier around the new buildings but it hasn't been finished yet. Instead, Cementoss created a high wall to keep outsiders out while the finishing touches would be put in place.

So while you couldn't go to school, you also couldn't go anywhere else.

Midoriya sighed, looking awfully forlorn. "I'm sorry, Y/N-san. It looks like we'll be here for a while."

"That's okay!!" You cheered, plopping down next to him, not wanting to see him so sad. "This will give us some time to talk, right? What's your story?"

He was surprised you were able to let go of it so quickly since you seemed so eager to see his classmates, then shook his head as confusion hit him like a truck. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what made you want to go here?" You asked, tucking up your knees and resting your chin on top of your knees. "Why do you want to be a hero?"

The look that crossed his face was one of unbridled joy and determination as he launched into his story after hearing that you wanted to know about him. That look in his eyes only grew brighter the more excited he got and his energy was contagious.

You couldn't help but cheer along at his moments of triumph as he relived the memories.

It connected into him showing you his notebook where he wrote down everything about all sorts of heroes once you asked him how he managed to keep track of everything he had told you in his brain.

The two of you were so engaged with your conversation, hunched over the coffee table as he tore through his notes that neither one of you heard the front door open.

But the loud chatter that flooded the common floor had you both springing to your feet in an instant.

"Welcome back, everyone!!" Midoriya greeted enthusiastically as his peers crashed the party. "Y/N-chan is here!!"

You smiled happily as Ashido launched herself at you, smothering you in a hug.

"Y/N-chan, you're back!!" She shouted excitedly. "Yayy!!!"

"I hope it's alright that I'm borrowing these." You tugged on one of your ears self-consciously as Yaoyorozu greeted you just as warmly. "There was a minor incident earlier."

The raven-haired girl waved you off automatically. "Of course it is!! That's what it's there for after all. You can keep those, I'll replace them later."

Jaw dropping open in surprise at how cool she was, you just managed to catch Uraraka as she flew at you at breaknecking speed. You returned her hug, smiling and bobbing your head along with her as she caught you up on all the latest things that had happened since you were gone after making sure you were okay.

It was almost weird. Almost like you fit right in.

You had only met them once last week and yet they were all so eager to befriend you. You thought you should've been more wary of them but they didn't seem to mean you any harm. Your gaze eagerly scanned for Ojiro, only for your tail to droop slightly when you didn't see him.

Hagakure giggled, picking up on your disappointment. "Aizawa-sensei asked him to stay behind for extra lessons today, but he'll be back later~"

If the invisible girl was visible, you were almost sure you would've seen her wink.

After that energetic yet warm welcome, you were ushered further inside as the boys took over the common space to hash out some friendly competition through a game of Smash.

Bakugou was banned, he broke one too many controllers in his fit of rage last time.

You stumbled through the hallways and jittered nervously as you and the girls took the elevator up to Yaoyorozu's room.

It was rather cramped, given that all her furniture was a lot bigger than her bedroom could handle but that just meant you all could sit in a circle on her enormous bed.

Hagakure eagerly asked if she could paint your nails to which you stammered out you weren't exactly sure what that meant.

An array of shocked gasps had the girls scrambling in a flurry to grab anything and everything needed for an evening of relaxation. Jirou even grabbed her guitar while Yaoyorozu left to go make some tea. Uraraka got to work on detangling your hair, in awe of your fluffy ears. The two of you were caught giggling hysterically as Asui came through the door with the elder girl balancing a tea tray in tow.

The next couple hours consisted of you getting to know Asui better, the frog girl preferring you call her by her first name, Tsuyu, and the girls spoiling you rotten, completely ignoring the fact that they had homework due tomorrow.

You were floored.

Your stomach started to growl and your cheeks pinked when Ashido shrieked at how adorable you were.

Jirou just barely stopped herself from smacking her friend, you were clearly hungry.

Yaoyorozu asked if you would like something to eat and you bowed your head, folding your hands in your lap.

"... If... If it's not too much to ask for." You said quietly.

Yaoyorozu cooed and Hagakure squealed, practically dragging you out of the room and back downstairs. Uraraka and Jirou stayed behind, needing to get to work on a project that wasn't due until the end of the year, but wanting to get started on it now so that they didn't have to do it later.

Midoriya was nowhere to be seen once you got downstairs, but the other boys hadn't moved since you had last seen them with a few exceptions.

Kirishima and Kaminari were still lounging in the same spot but had turned the TV off and had textbooks spread out before them.

Shoji, Aoyama and Iida were in the adjacent corner, all three of them looking up when Ashido bounded over to them.

Asui went over to where Tokoyami was studying, and the two of them started studying for Midnight's upcoming exam.

Sato was in the kitchen when Yaoyorozu came in, greeting her politely when she asked if he could help her make something for you to eat. He blushed a bit, saying how he didn't have much experience cooking since he was more proficient in sweets but that he could try.

"What's going on?"

You turned around at the unfamiliar voice as Yaoyorozu greeted him, with a slight twinge of relief in her tone.

"Todoroki-san!!" Yaoyorozu smiled. "Do you know how to make any meals? Y/N-chan is hungry."

The boy with two-toned hair debated the situation, brow knitting in concentration.

"I'm not sure." He said slowly.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to make you something satisfactory. He really only liked to eat one thing and therefore only knew how to make that well.

"Do you like soba?" He asked you.

You tilted your head, the word not ringing any bells. "What's that?"

Todoroki cracked a small smile at your curiosity, then pushed up his sleeves and immediately got to work alongside Sato while Yaoyorozu fetched what he needed.

You wanted to help them but seeing as how you had no idea what it was or what they were doing, you decided to leave them to it. Sitting on the same stool at the kitchen island as the first night when you came here, you interjected occasionally to grab something they seemed to be looking for in an attempt to not be entirely useless.

Sato was the one to reassure you that there wasn't much to do in preparing it and that your food would be done soon.

Five minutes later, Todoroki was pushing a bowl of hot soba towards you. Sesame and ginger wafted through the air from the broth and your nose scrunched up cutely, bright eyes going wide as you salivated.

"It smells really good!!" You cheered.

A subtle but relieved smile made its way onto his face at the compliment and he handed you a pair of chopsticks. You had been fed hot food so rarely you weren't used to cooling it down before you ate it. You dived in, recalling Aizawa's instructions from before and blowing on it first before tentatively taking a bite.

They were really tasty for something that looked so simple.

You beamed, soup dribbling down the side of your chin once you tasted it. "Thank you, Todoroki-san, Sato-san, Yaoyorozu-chan!!"

The boys bowed while the girl diligently wiped your chin with a napkin and patted your head, happy you liked it.

Content that your needs had been satisfied, Yaoyorozu asked if you wanted anything else before she got started on her homework for the night. You shook your head, thanking her once more before she left, Todoroki following not long after.

Finishing your soba, you watched curiously as Sato whisked something together in a large bowl, checking on the paper on the counter before pressing a couple of buttons on the oven.

"Whatcha doing?" You asked, nose twitching,

His gaze flickered up to yours and he smiled. "I'm making a chiffon cake. Would you like to try it once it's done?"

You beamed, practically drooling at the thought of it already. "Yes, please!!"

The aromatic scent of chocolate hazelnut made your mouth water as he pulled it out of the oven.

He made casual conversation with you as you stared longingly at the cake that had to set first before he cut it. You were surprised to find out that he liked baking more than cooking but nodded your head understandingly when he explained his quirk to you.

"That's so cool!!" You exclaimed, flapping your hands excitedly. "You convert all of that into power and it makes you stronger?!"

"Yes, but it doesn't last very long." Sato told you as he sliced the confection carefully. "And my brain doesn't work as well but it is quite handy to have in a difficult situation if I have some snacks on hand."

Your eyes lit up when he handed a generous slice to you on a plate rimmed with cherry blossoms. It almost looked too good to eat.

Almost.

You waited until he got back from distributing it to his peers who were still in various spots on the common floor before sharing it with him so you could eat it together. Of course he didn't remember to save any for him.

"Isn't this a lot of work?" You mumbled around a mouthful of cake as he explained how he'd been trying all sorts of new recipes. "Doesn't it get tiring?"

Sato nodded, cleaning up his work space and grabbing new bowls from the cabinets. "Yeah but it's worth it since it helps me with my quirk. Besides, I get to share it with everyone when they're done."

You giggled, pointing at him with your fork. "Yes, that's definitely a plus."

A hearty guffaw erupted from his lungs, causing several others to look over in your direction but your smile only grew wider.

You made someone laugh. Really laugh. It made warmth bloom in your chest and you kicked your feet happily, chomping on the last bit of cake with a blissed out look on your face that was equal parts from the confection and your new friend.

He might've looked intimidating but he was nothing but kind.

The front door cracked open and your head turned at the various greetings that came from around the shared space had your eyes widening.

You dropped your fork and it clattered on the countertop of the kitchen island.

"Ojiro-san!!"

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel​

#bnha fanfiction #bnha ojiro #ojiro mashirao x reader #ojiro x reader #ojiro x reader fanfiction #ojiro fluff #bnha ojiro mashirao #ojirou #ojirou x reader #aizawa #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #parental aizawa #bnha ojiro x reader #bnha ojiro x reader fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academia ojiro #todoroki #todoroki shouto #sato #sato rikido #tokoyami #shoji #shoji mezo #tokoyami fumikage

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away PART FOUR

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

To start, have this Very Important picture of Marla and Tonbo being cute, since this is otherwise a very compressed post:

[Image Description: Marla and Tonbo; Tonbo is a Goron with furry shoulders and a mohawk and Marla a Zora patterned after a Blue Tang.  Tonbo has his hand pulling away from Marla’s face, and there’s a hibiscus flower tucked behind Marla’s headfin as behind a human ear.  They’re both grinning.  Marla says, “Tonbo you know this flower isn’t going to survive the next time I hit the water,” and Tonbo answers, “So I’ll enjoy how cute it is UNTIL then.”  End ID.]

A handful of important things happen during Link's stay on Windfish Isle:

1. Marla ends up teaching Link how to swim.

"he was training you to be a child soldier and he didn't teach you how to swim?? TONBO this boy doesn't know how to swim!!"

"does seem like a problem if you need to breathe air," Tonbo says, sewing some floral shorts in Link's size.

[Image description: A series of panels.  In the first, Marla is holding Link in the water.  She says, “Okay! I’ve got you, and the water’s only four feet out here so you can stand up if you start to panic, okay?” Link, clinging to her, answers “I am start to panic.”  In the second, implied to be after some time, Marla is clapping with a grin.  She says, “Eeee you DID it, I’m SO PROUD OF YOU, good job, Link!”  The next two panels are of Link wet in the water, staring back at her.  Marla asks, “Link?”  Link’s eyes shine wetly and he blushes with the legend “POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT?” surrounding him, along with floating effect flowers.  End ID]

Pictured here btw is the moment Link develops An Attachment.  

There’s actually a lot of other little moments I have in mind; Link realizing he’s passed his seventeenth birthday while passed out, Marla asking what his favorite food is so they can celebrate and poor Link not knowing because he mainly subsisted on gruel and health potions, so she and Tonbo decide that he should try as many different things as possible, Link just getting to LIVE for a little while because nobody who’d have a problem with it knows where the hell he’s gotten off to.

2. Link has a moment of horror when Adventure Game things start happening, as he remembers that he left his sword at the Sky Temple Monastery.

Tonbo supplies him a new one from souvenirs his uncles have brought or sent (one of Tonbo's uncles, Torock, is a merchant, and another, Torik, runs the ferry to the mainland).

Tonbo’s Uncle Torik at the ferry dock:

[Image Description: A scene in Windfish Isle’s main village.  The center of the image is Uncle Torik, a Goron with a very wide brimmed straw hat, a narrow, long, and shaggy beard, hairy arms, a patterned open shirt, shorts, and bracelets on both his wrists and ankles.  He wears an easygoing smile and is tipping his hat back while standing in front of a small boat against a dock.  In the foreground are both child Zora and Gorons (the Goron children are rolling in ball form) and an adult Goron mostly cut from view.  In the background is the village of little round roofed buildings, some palm trees, and the horizon past the island.  A Goron and Zora are speaking to one another in the distance. End ID]

I don’t know why I drew this instead of literally anything else I could have drawn??

3. Link ends up fighting the first story boss outside of Astramorus's tutorial hell dungeon, and despite it being hard and the fact that he didn't want to do it....

It wasn't actually that bad? It wasn't actually as hard as dealing with Astramorus every day was, maybe even because he HASN'T been dealing with Astramorus every day.

[Image description: Link is starting to say “Don’t you GET it though, I’m just a COWARD-” and cuts himself off as Tonbo places a flower crown in his hair.  Link looks up towards the crown and asks “Tonbo what is this.”  Tonbo points past him and says, firmly, “NO MORE LISTENING TO YOUR DAD.” End ID.]

4. Link decides to take the ferry to the mainland.  He’s not sure what he’s going to do with himself yet, but like Marla said about finding a favorite food, now he has time to find out.

5. Marla and Tonbo decide to go with him.

[Image Description: Marla is speaking to another Zora, designed after a Moorish Idol (a black, white and yellow fish with severely swooping fins; this Zora has a prominent crest on his head.)  Marla, hands forward and open, says, “And that’s why we have to leave, he’s really just a BABY, he NEEDS some kind of help!”  The other Zora asks “Now wait a minute Marla is this the same kid that killed the ROKTOSQUID, correct?”  Marla puts her hands on her hips and frowns.  “I can and will have Tonbo DESTROY you, Mister Mayor.”  He puts his hands up as if in self defense, grinning.  “Okay okay I’ll watch your house!” he says.  End ID.]

Marla can talk to the Mayor like that because they’ve known one another for forever, obviously.  

I’ll do a post kind of illustrating Mr. Roktosquid eventually but I’m trying Very Hard not to let AU August ruin my sleep schedule this year lmao.

So hopefully some of that will be for tomorrow on my day off!

#my art #loz #loz au #Loz au: the courage of running away #au august

[maaaddiexo]

The Witch’s Tower (The Weeping Monk)

Mainlist | Serieslist

Warnings: cursing

part 1/4 (4 for now; maybe more after second season release)

[part 2]

-

He was in pain. She could tell from a hundred feet away. Part of her curse, she supposed. He and Father Carden had come back to the grounds after weeks of hunting the Fey folk and she could feel in the air that not all was good. Something was wrong.

Unable to leave her room, Y/N watched from the tower as he settled in a corner of the garden and carved bow after bow and twice as many arrows. She didn’t know why he didn’t get his wounds tended to but that only added to the mystery around him.

Despite the hot summer sun beating down on him, the Weeping Monk kept his hood up and his sleeves covering his hands. He didn’t even take off his boots. Y/N wasn’t sure she’d ever seen his hair – or anything above his eyebrows for that matter. Like everybody else, she only saw his hands and half his face, and only ever from a distance. For nobody was allowed to know she was there. The Weeping Monk was Father Carden’s greatest known weapon, but he had an even greater one. One he kept a secret – locked away in a tower like a princess in the fairytales her mother used to tell her.

Absentmindedly, Y/N felt the tingle in her fingers and raised her hand. The tingling intensified and a small breeze blew through the room, twirling her hair and fluttering the curtains. Soon it left the room and carried outside and down to the man below.

At first, it would feel like nothing more than gust of wind. But she knew the Weeping Monk was special. That he wasn’t entirely human. And she knew that he would feel the magic in the air when nobody else would. And he did. His hand stopped mid-carve and he dropped the half-made arrow onto the grass. His shoulders tensed and Y/N watched from afar as he reached for his sword. She smiled and pointed her finger towards the ceiling and drew circles in the air. The wind picked up and carried her words down to him.

Look up.

The Monk didn’t like magic, but he wasn’t a fool either. He understood magic and knew when to fear it and when to listen to it. Slowly - angrily - he lifted his head towards the sky and, as if against his own will, his eyes were drawn to the abandoned tower of the castle. He squinted. It wasn’t abandoned at all.

Pleased with her work, Y/N stepped back from the window and walked to the other side of her room, past her easel and paints, and to the wardrobe. She didn’t have a lot of clothes but Father Carden made sure she was comfortable enough not to seek attention. She opened the double doors and pushed her clothes aside, reaching in the dark for the lip of the panel that would reveal her only hiding place. The wooden panel came out easily enough and she gathered the pieces of paper and carried them to the round table in the middle of the room. She splayed them out beside each other so that she could see them all at once. Each one was different even though they were all of the same thing.

Him. The Weeping Monk.

Most were of his hands and the part of his face you could see, but a few were of his full body though none of those were completed. He always moved or left before she could finish. He was dangerous – she knew that. But he was also extremely intriguing and her curiosity had finally won her over. She knew his reputation, but she wasn’t afraid of him.

Creak.

Startled, Y/N looked towards her door. It couldn’t be Michael with her lunch and Father Carden was in meetings all day. Tripping over the area rug, Y/N scrambled to collect all the sketches and shoved them back in the wardrobe, sealing them in place behind the loose panel. She heard the lock click and turned just as the door opened. And there he stood. The Weeping Monk.

Y/N swallowed. He was much more intimidating in person. But he couldn’t hurt her and that knowledge calmed her nerves. The Monk took a step forward but ran into an invisible wall. She pointed to the cross above her door, not that the Monk could see it from where she stood. “This is holy ground, which means anyone who comes here needs permission to enter.” The Monk only stared back at her. He never blinked, and Y/N found that unnerving. “Still, I don’t have any friends and don’t get many visitors so come on in. Oh, but leave your weapons at the door. I don’t care for violence.” She sat back on her bed as the Monk tried to step over the threshold again and was successful this time. He slid the bow and quiver full of arrows off his shoulder and undid the sword belt. “And the daggers in your trousers and boot.”

The Monk rolled his eyes but obeyed, making a show of dropping them next to his other weapons. For a moment, they eyed each other before he finally looked away and began to walk around the circular room. He ran his fingers along the intricate carvings in the shelves and along the collection of books but stopped when he came to her worktable. He only said one word. “Witchcraft.”

His voice was low and gravelly. While others may have found it intimidating, Y/N found it soothing.

“That’s what a witch does. I’m surprised you can see anything from underneath that oversized hood of yours.”

The Monk didn’t respond immediately and instead continued looking around. “Father Carden said this tower was abandoned.”

“It was at one point of time. But where better to hide someone you once thought was human than a derelict tower rumoured to collapse at any moment?”

“You’re a Fey witch?”

“I know you’ve got the scent. Tell me, do I smell like Fey?”

The Monk was quiet for a moment. “No. You smell human.”

“By all accounts I am human. Except for the small inconsistency which is that I have the ability to practice witchcraft.”

“That’s not possible.” Y/N couldn’t tell if it was astonishment or fear she heard in his voice.

“Oh, it’s possible. Just unlikely.”

“How? How is it possible? And why would Father Carden let you live? Here? In our place of worship.”

“The same reason he lets you live. Yes, that’s right. I know all about you, Weeping Monk. So don’t you dare judge me. We’re both his greatest weapons and we let him use us because it means we’ll live to see another day.”

The Monk practically growled. “How do you know?”

Creak.

Y/N blinked. Was it lunch already? “Shit.” She began to panic. Seven seconds until Michael walked through that door. “Quick! In the wardrobe.”

“What?”

Y/N tripped over the rug again as she ran for the weapons. “Not so loud or he’ll hear you.”

“Who?”

Y/N dragged the Monk to the wardrobe and opened the doors. She shoved the weapons into his chest before pushing him back into the wardrobe. “Stay here. Don’t move or make a sound. And don’t come out until I say so, okay? If Michael sees you here, then Carden won’t be able to protect you. And I doubt he’ll choose to either. You’ll burn with me if we’re caught.”

“Y/N?”

The girl closed the wardrobe doors and smoothed out her skirts. “Come in, Michael.”

There was no handle on the door. Just a lock on the outside. He kicked the door open with his foot and walked into the room, placing the tray on the table. “Did I hear you talking to someone?”

“Just myself. Working on a healing poultice.” She held up her hand where she’d cut herself on one of the Monk’s weapons. “Cut myself.”

Michael rolled his eyes as he backed out of the room and grabbed the tray that he’d used to carry up breakfast earlier that morning. “Stupid bitch.”

Unperturbed by Michael’s only insult, Y/N wiggled her fingers at him. “See you for supper, Michael!”

“Shut up, stupid bitch.”

Y/N cocked her head. “Hmm. He’s learned a new one. Good for him.” Still, she waited until she heard the sole wooden step creak before telling the Monk he could come out.

“Do you have a death wish?”

Y/N frowned as she took the weapons back from the Monk. “What?”

“You just locked a killer in your wardrobe.”

“Sorry. Next time you can hide under my bed. Are you hungry? I’ve got some wine around here somewhere.”

“Why aren’t you scared of me?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked to her worktable. “Gods, you’re curious. Sit down.”

Realizing he wouldn’t get any answers out of her by resisting, the Monk slumped into the wooden seat and plucked a few grapes off the plate. He was hungry. Y/N messily wrapped a cloth around her wound before gathring a bunch of items from her worktable. She dropped them on the round table the Monk sat at and began sorting through them.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you. I’ll answer your questions in a moment.” In a stone mortar, she mixed and ground herbs and honey into a paste. “Roll up your sleeve.”

Apprehensively, the Monk did. He rolled it up past his elbow to expose the cuts on his arm. Her hand was warm as she held it firm and applied the paste over the wounds. He swallowed nervously. “What are you doing?”

“I already told you. I’m helping you. The blade you were cut with was laced with poison. That’s why it hurts more than usual.”

“How can you tell?”

“I could feel your pain. That’s what happens when magic is near. You can smell the Fey folk and I can sense them and their magic. Okay, see how this paste is light green? It’ll grow darker as it draws the poison from your blood and will only dry when there’s no more poison in your system. It won’t heal the wounds though so don’t worry – nobody will be suspicious.”

“If you’re not Fey, then how do you know all this. And how can you sense the Fey and magic. I mean…you’re human.”

“That is true. But I’m also cursed. Father Carden says that it’s poison that makes the Fey. But there are some humans cursed to similar fates. My parents were human, but they weren’t good people and they killed a Fey Elder. Because of that, the Hidden took revenge on them by cursing me. I’m not marked or anything. I’m just from two different worlds where neither wants me. But back to the story. Despite killing one of their Elders, the Fey took me in with the intention to raise me as their own. But Father Carden had heard a rumour about a human baby kidnapped by the Fey. By the time he heard the lie and found me, I was five years old.”

“Old enough to remember.”

Y/N felt a tear slide down her cheek. “He slaughtered the lot of them. That whole village…nothing was left. Burned or destroyed. Everything and everyone except for me. When they died, all their knowledge went to me.

“Carden brought me here thinking I was human and introduced me as his daughter. But a year later there was an incident and he saw the truth. In order to hide his mistake and embarrassment, he lied and said that I was killed by Fey and killed a whole village nearby just for the story.”

“But he locked you up here instead.”

Y/N shrugged and wiped her tears. “He knew how useful I could be. He said he’d spared my life two times now and I would spend my whole life repaying that debt.”

“And how do you do it?”

“When I feel magic, I send him a sign to meet me. I tell him where I feel it coming from and he goes in that direction and when he gets there, he uses you to sniff them out.” Y/N looked down at the paste. “It’s dry. No more poison. And you should probably leave. Carden will be looking for you soon.”

“Let me ask you something. I can tell you don’t like being trapped up here and used like a puppet so why don’t you just leave?”

“There’s only two ways out of here. The door or the window. If I take the door and run away, he’ll torture and slaughter all the Fey because he knows it’ll get back to me. And I will not take the window because if I leave this place, it won’t be by suicide. I wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction.”

The Monk smirked and collected his weapons. “I don’t think he realizes that you’re nobody’s weapon but your own. What’s your name?”

“He calls me his little angel, but my real name is Y/N.”

The Monk gave a half smile. “See you around, Y/N.”

“If you do come back, it’s custom you bring something to a witch’s place of residence. It’s a symbol of truce. And I…I like flowers.”

The Monk gave a brisk nod. “Flowers.” He closed the door behind him and walked down the winding staircase until he ended up outside, facing the woods. Looking around and seeing no one, he reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the folded piece of paper. His bootprint was on it because he’d stepped on it when Y/N had shoved him into the wardrobe but the drawing was still clear. And at the bottom, the image had been signed, dated, and titled.

The One Who Cries for the Family He Kills.

He looked at the image again, feeling a pull on his heart. It was him.

[part 2]

#cursed #the weeping monk #lancelot #fey #the weeping monk x reader #the weaping monk x fem!reader #the weeping monk x y/n #magic #fantasy #fanfiction #camelot #imagine #the weeping monk imagine

[vampcubus]

Quiet (Midoriya/Reader) [part 2]

| A/n: I have to admit, I re-wrote the ending several times and I’m still not satisfied with it but here we go anyways! |

| See part 1 ... here |

✦✿  Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. ✿✦

✦✿ Words: 5500+ ✿✦

are you guys ready to c r y??

.   .   .

You stare blankly at a red and purple sky, eyes lazily watching the clouds roll by and the half-visible sun dip down and slowly set. You leaned forward to capture that perfect in-between moment, smiling as the last sliver of the sun finally dipped behind the horizon, letting the sky gradually shift from warm pinks and oranges to dark blues, indigos, and purples. You sighed and sank into a more relaxed position as your eyes welcomed the appearance of the moon as it took to the sky, washing the park in its gentle white light.

You sat at the same rotting-wooden picnic table you sat at every night, a familiar book with kitty skeletons draped in red and black across the cover sat just beneath your hand. The lukewarm coffee you’d picked up hours earlier sat right next to the book, half-empty from your lack of interest despite it being your favorite kind. 

You’d even considered dropping by your dorm to throw it in the freezer—to beat yourself with later if you kept thinking about a particularly annoying green-haired boy—before coming here, but you found that you just didn’t want to be on campus more than you had to.

Being out and about decreased your chances of running into him.

You let your eyes stray from the steadily appearing stars and to your right, where Midoriya had sat just a few nights ago.

You let out a frustrated sigh, turning your gaze back up to the sky and raising the cup of coffee to your lips. It didn’t taste amazing right now, but it served as a good enough distraction to stop thinking about him. You’d done the right thing, whether you cared about Midoriya or not, you wouldn’t let yourself be manipulated. You would not come running back into his arms only to be forgotten when other things in his life became more important than you again.

It was better this way. 

You told yourself, trying to convince yourself that you would only distract Izuku from his dreams. You’d only get in the way and end up broken again when he realized that.

You flicked the book open and skimmed your eyes over the pages. The illustrations of grim-themed yet still cute cats above each new chapter momentarily consuming your attention. Your soft smile faltered when you stumbled upon a particularly strange looking cat with wild, curly fur and huge round eyes cowering underneath a couch. Your eyes lingered on the drawing, everything about it just screams Izuku.

You shake yourself out of it and flip to the front page, breath hitching when you noticed a sticky note attached to it. It was in the handwriting of the clerk you’d grown familiar with. She often scribbled funny quotes or little notes things into the books you purchased for you to laugh about when you stumbled into the shop again.

He was here today, wanted me to slide this to you once you came in today. Not quite sure if he knows that ‘secret admirers’ are supposed to be discreet? 

-Kiko ッ

You almost smile at that, not doubting for a moment who she was referring to. But then you knit your brows together in confusion when you noticed an arrow at the bottom of the note. Curiously, you unstuck the unusually heavy sticky note and flipped it. Your heart stopped functioning entirely when you saw a familiar bracelet taped to the back of it.

You gasped tearing the bracelet from the note and inspecting it closely. No way… there’s no way he even remembered this existed.

It was a colorful and cute bracelet with mostly green beads and white lettered ones spelling out ‘All Might.’

The sight of the bracelet brings you way back, and suddenly you are no longer outside at the park.

Instead, you are laying on your stomach with an impressive fort of blankets hanging above your head. Your small hands fiddled with the beads, tiny fingers slipping on each random-shaped bead you could find in your craft box that was remotely green in color. Across from you lays a much smaller Izuku on his belly with his nose buried in a comic book, eyes sparkling and lips noisily slurping at the straw of a juice box.

“Y/N-chan look!” The curly-haired boy squeals, shoving the comic book over to you and pointing at a panel of a very stylized All Might with multiple civilians draped over his shoulders. It’s a familiar frame from the video you’ve watched with the boy about a million times already. You personally didn’t idolize the symbol of peace as passionately as your friend, but it always made him happy, so you always watched it with him. You squinted, scrunching up your nose at the picture.

“They drew his hair wrong!” You complained pointing at the clearly exaggerated shojo-looking hairstyle the number one hero had been illustrated with.

“No, that’s just the artists’ style.” Little Izuku exclaims, standing up in the fort, proudly posing in his All Might one-sie, holding the comic book up into the air like it was Simba.

“Ohh,” You remember humming thoughtfully before returning to tying an s-clip to the end of the bracelet, looking your newest creation over with pride. You sat up too, looking anxiously over to your best friend who had engrossed himself back into the comic. “Gimme your hand.”

You vividly remember the young boy’s freckled face lighting up and his hand being shoved in your direction. You slid the way-too-big bracelet over his tiny wrist and looped it around a second time so it wouldn’t fall off. “Here, so everybody knows you’re the next All Might!”

His big green eyes overflowed with tears, almost flooding your blanket sanctuary and drowning you both in his own tears when he tackled you to the ground, hugging you tight. You remember him showing the bracelet off to all of his friends and Kacchan the next day. He wore it even more religiously than his hero-onesie, his mother even mentioning that he only took it off to bathe.

You recall your shock when a week later he dropped a similar home-made bracelet with your favorite-colored beads and your idolized hero’s name on it. It had been the first time anyone had ever made something for you and you cherished it.

“We match now, so that means we gotta become big strong heroes together when we get big!” You remember his high-pitched voice declaring with his best All Might impression.

You felt your eyes burn with salt and the telltale weight of tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, your fingers shaking as they clutched the bracelet. Despite how old the plastic piece of jewelry was, it was in outstanding condition--save for a few scratches on the bigger beads here and there.

You’d thought that he’d lost it or thrown it away a long time ago. It’s been years. How on earth did he still have this?

Feeling your breath start to quicken you shot up from your seat, grabbing the book from the table and dashing off towards U.A. You turned each sharp corner, narrowly avoiding crashing into several other students—including Bakugou who hissed and swore at you as you retreated to your dorm You shoved the door open and slammed it shut. The next fifteen minutes were spent digging through your stuff, looking through untouched boxes of your things you’d brought from home but never needed until now. 

And then, you finally found it tucked away in an old pencil pouch. You pulled out an all-too-familiar bracelet, holding it up to compare to the green one in your other hand. There was no doubt about it, it was real. Your fingertips traced the familiar beads of your own bracelet, eyes flickering between it and its counterpart.

Why…?

Why did he keep it so long?

You kicked the box back into the closet and toed the door shut, tossing both bracelets onto your nightstand and flopping face-down onto your bed.

It didn’t matter. It was just a bracelet, nothing more than a flimsy piece of plastic. Nothing compared to the friendship you had. So what if he held onto some dumb bracelet? That didn’t make up for months of distance, weeks of him slowly forgetting you existed while you stood idly by. Letting it happen because you cared too much.

So why did you feel so guilty?

You groaned exasperatedly into your pillow snuggling your face into it when it started to soothe your headache. Your eyes opened suddenly with a furious glower when your stupid brain immediately thought back to the times you and Izuku would nap together when you were kids, anywhere anytime. You often played so hard you knocked yourselves out so his mom would find you cuddled up against one another in your blanket forts, on the couch, on the slide at the park, under the sink once… anywhere you could fit into and doze off, you would.

In fact, you didn’t shake the habit of napping together until you were at least thirteen, which is usually around when parents start getting suspicious so you stopped doing it. You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks, remembering those special times in middle school when you would sneak in and sleep together for a while if one of you had a nightmare. That was most likely the most rebellious thing you two innocent little suck-ups ever did.

You sigh, eyes drifting over to the bracelets strewn carelessly across your nightstand.

How can one bracelet bring back so much nostalgia?

.   .   .

Midoriya was slumped miserably against one of the couches in the dorm lounge, pen shakily scribbling away at an assignment. His handwriting has gotten a little better since last year, still wobbly and inconsistent in places but his teachers have voiced their appreciation of its improvement. He thinks back to earlier when he had dropped off that bracelet at the bookshop, afraid that if he approached you, you wouldn’t want to see him or he’d start crying again.

It really tore him apart inside to part with it, having kept it for so long. He’d found the bracelet while looking through some of his things one day. It fell out of a box with a bunch of his older more beat up action figures.

Seeing it after being put away for so long had brought the biggest smile to his face, remembering how much he’d loved it when he was younger. It was also what made him remember you… It was as if you suddenly popped back into existence. And in excitement to share the memory with you, perhaps catch up with you over coffee, he had disregarded the fact that it had been months since you’d last spoken.

He now realizes his mistake. 

But after last night he knew he didn’t deserve to have such an important piece of you to himself. He absentmindedly wondered if you still had yours… probably not, huh? His wasn’t as pretty as the one you made him, and why would you keep it after he practically ignored you for a year?

Still, he had hope that just maybe there was a chance he could make it up to you, that he hadn’t messed up so bad that you never want to speak to him again. Midoriya closed his eyes, frowning down at his notebook in shame. Who was he kidding? It was just a piece of plastic and likely held no value to you after what he did.

He misses it. Already.

“Midoriya.” Iida’s voice piped up and the green-haired boy jumped.

“Oh hey, Iida. Did you need something?” He asked, trying not to sound as worked up as he really was, forcing a small smile.

“I came to ask if you’d heard from L/N at all today?” Midoriya’s heart dropped at the sound of your name.

“No… why?”

“Well, it’s just that several students claimed to have seen her running obnoxiously through the halls earlier this evening and I was curious if you’d happen to know anything about it?” Iida asks, straightening his glasses with a displeased expression, clearly not amused by your behavior.

“No, I haven’t. Sorry,” Midoriya admitted sullenly, eyes downcast to the floor.

Iida’s eyes softened and the bluenette sighed, taking a seat next to his friend. Ochako and he hadn’t managed to get much out of the sulking Midoriya since the other night, but they suspect that things didn’t necessarily go well between him and you. Not to mention he’s been a zombie all for days, barely getting any sleep at all these past few nights

“And, as your friend, I am concerned about your wellbeing,” Tenya confessed, pushing his glasses up closer against his face as Midoriya sighed. 

“I’m fine, Iida.” Midoriya offered him a half-smile but otherwise made no attempt to spill anything. Tenya made eye-contact with Ochako across the common room, who had been the one to encourage him to approach Deku in the first place.

“Midoriya, what happened between you and L/N last evening?” The Iida son pressed, cautious not to pry too much in fear of upsetting him.

“I messed up,” Midoriya looked down at his lap, a drawing of your face in the corner of his math homework. He abruptly turned the page in hopes Iida hadn’t already seen it. “Really badly.”

.   .   .

The next morning, Izuku is as sluggish and mopey as ever, worrying his classmates with his lack of enthusiasm.

“You should talk to her.” Todoroki’s cool voice shakes Midoirya out of his daze after homeroom. He’s been staring absently at you as you ignored his existence, focusing on the lesson. It isn’t hard to guess who the half-and-half teen was talking about. And yet he still found himself surprised.

“I’ve tried, Todoroki. Talking won't help.” Midoriya sighs, eyes dropping to his mess of notes, including several crumpled up drawings of you.

“And sulking around doing nothing will?” Todoroki questions, not able to recognize the shell of the boy in front of him.

 “I messed up, and she wants nothing to do with me now.” And he respects that.

“Something tells me that isn’t entirely the case.” Shouto replies and the green-haired boy sends him a puzzled look.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks, a brow raised at the possibility that Todoroki knows something he doesn’t.

“You forget that Y/N and I are close friends now, although you haven’t necessarily been around so you may not have known at all.” He states bluntly and it does nothing to comfort Midoriya at all. He hadn’t known you and Todoroki were friends! What else did he not know about you?

“What are you getting at, Todoroki?” Deku asks with a defeated tone, wishing the stoic prodigy would just be out with it.

“Y/N tells me everything, don’t think she hasn’t told me about what happened a few nights ago. But when she spoke about you it didn’t seem like she didn’t want anything to do with you.” Shouto explained, definitely catching the young Midoriya’s attention. “She’s upset, yes, and you aren’t wrong to assume that she is angry with you right now. But the longer you wait to talk to her about it—if you planned to at all that is—the longer it will take for her to forgive you.”

Forgive him? Was that even possible at this point? He didn’t know, but if what Todoroki said was true, and he actually had a chance, he couldn’t waste any more time ‘sulking around and doing nothing.’

“Are you sure that’s even possible, Todoroki?” Deku questioned, eyes adept as ever as he searched the bi-colored eyes of his rival and friend for answers he may not even have.

“I don’t know for sure, Midoriya. That is up to Y/N.” Todoroki admits, and Deku bites the inside of his cheek still torn over this. “But I don’t think she will forgive you if you don’t try.”

“Mm.” Deku nods, thanking the two-toned boy and packing up for his next class of the day.

.   .   .

Your ears perked up at the sound of someone knocking on your door later that night. You sighed into your pillow, not wanting to leave its soft embrace. You tried to ignore it at first, pretending to be asleep but he insistent knocking continued. Grumpily you pushed off of your comfy bed to sluggishly open the door, thinking it was most likely Mina and she’d just keep knocking until you opened up. 

You were not expecting Midoriya to be standing there.

“What do you want?” You asked, your voice holding no softness or enthusiasm ad your narrowed eyes stared coldly at your former best friend. He flinches at the icy tone of your voice.

“I-I um… can we… talk?” Izuku asks anxiously, wringing his hands together, elbows drawn in close to his stomach self-consciously. “Please?”

He meets your steeled gaze with his own apologetic one, green eyes pleading with yours. Izuku owned the most convincing pair of puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen, even when he wasn’t meaning to and even now you faltered.

“Why? Why should I let you in? Give me one good reason not to slam the door in your face and go back to bed?”

“B-because I w-won’t leave until I say what I need to say,” Midoriya stated as firmly as he could, a determined glimmer in his eyes as he did so. You don’t doubt that he might sit at your door all night if you refused him. “A-and I have a feeling you have some things to say too.”

He wants to resolve this.

“I have nothing to say to you.” You hissed stepping back into the threshold of your room starting to close the door but his hand smacks against the wooden surface, a desperate look in his eyes that only makes you push harder. “Move.”

“Please! Please just hear me out, Y/N, please just give me this! Let me try! You don’t need to forgive me. I just need you to listen!” Midoriya pleads, his glossy eyes already spilling hot tears down his freckled cheeks. He’s shaking. “Please…”

Midoriya stumbles forward when the door opens and he just barely catches himself, wide eyes darting up to yours as you take several steps away from the entrance. You cross your arms, you can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

“You have five minutes. Start talking.” You relent, sitting down on your bed.

Midoriya sighs in relief, closing the door behind him before clumsily scrambling over to you. You pat the spot next to you, avoiding any and all eye-contact. Izuku’s heart skips a beat when he spots his bracelet on your nightstand. So you did get it! His breath gets caught in his throat when he tries to speak at the same moment his eyes drift to your wrist, where a relic of your friendship dangles. 

You kept it! He feels his eyes overflowing, the ugly fat tears streaking down the sides of his face as he stares dumbfounded at the familiar bracelet.

“You have four minutes.” You flatly remind him, and he jumps, trying to think of the words he’d practiced just a half-hour before he showed up at your dorm.

“AH—o-okay! um, I…” When he fails to speak even after a good minute passes, you sigh deeply. If he had nothing to say, why’d he even come? What happened to all that gusto about ‘saying what I need to say’?

“Why did you keep it?” You ask out of the blue after an uncomfortable silence and his head perks up, but he looks confused, eyes searching yours.

“Keep what—?” He starts, but you cut him off.

“The bracelet. Why did you keep it? It’s been years, I didn’t even think you still remembered that old piece of junk existed.” You blurt out, each word sounding distressed and just… confused. You wanted to understand.

He stares at you, mouth agape at a complete loss of what to say. His mouth suddenly feels dry and his tongue rubs anxiously against the roof of his mouth.

“Because… because it was important... to me.” Izuku breathes, the muscles and nerves in his hand twitching as it laid only inches away from yours. “I was s-so happy when you first gave it to me, my mom had to pry it off of me just to bathe me.” He chuckles, smiling at the memory.

“And I kept it because it reminded me of you, it felt like there was a part of you with me even when you couldn’t be there. It comforted me, knowing that you put s-so m-much thought into something j-just for me and I f-felt so special!” He breaks off when his hiccups start to get out of control. “A-and—”

He chokes and apologizes taking a moment to breathe again. You hadn’t realized how much one silly piece of jewelry had impacted him until now, so much so that he’s crying over it.

“And I made a promise, remember?” Izuku sniffs, wiping his eyes uselessly with his hand, only really smearing the wetness across his cheeks and wetting his hand with his own tears as they continued to spill down the freckled planes of his red cheeks.

You nod, but turn away when you feel your own emotions starting to spike up. You bit your lip, held your breath, clenched your teeth. Anything to keep the tears at bay as they threatened to fall.

“I-I said that when we—”

“We match now, so that means we gotta become big strong heroes together when we get big.” You butt in, sniffling and raising a hand to scrub at the tears streaming down your face and pooling at your chin. “That’s what you said.”

Deku stares at you, guffawed as you quoted his younger self. He hadn’t expected you to remember it so clearly, It makes him feel even worse. Knowing how much it must’ve hurt you when you grew apart. How hard it must’ve been on you to keep quiet about everything while he lived his best life, forgetting all about his dearest friend.

“Why’d you give it back?” You asked, voice trembling as you wiping your eyes with your arm. You glanced over at the green bracelet lying on your nightstand. “If it meant so much to you, why give it back?”

He closed his eyes. He listened to his heart as it slammed against his chest like a pinball machine, demanding him to say something.

“Because I forgot about the friendship it represented, and I shouldn’t have. I wish I wouldn’t have, but I did. I broke my own promise and e-even worse, I hurt you because I was just too caught up in my own problems—my own dreams—to remember that you’ve been a part of them since the beginning.” Izuku sobbed, there was no point in holding it all in now. 

“I gave it back because I was so afraid I screwed up everything between us, and I don’t deserve it!”

I don’t deserve you. The phrase rang in his ears so loudly it was almost deafening, he wanted nothing more than to say it too. He couldn’t because he couldn’t catch a single damn breath to say it. But even as he feels he has gathered that breath it’s stolen away once more when he feels your hands on his face.

In a flurry of your own emotions and a nagging force of habit you had reached out and grasped his face, the soft pads of your thumbs wiping at his cheeks.

“Stop crying already, you had something you wanted to say right? Stop letting your emotions get in the way of that.”

The firmness in your tone as your stern eyes descended upon his own struck a chord in him. You’ve said something like that to him before. Years ago.

“Stop crying, Izuku! Stop letting your emotions keep you from standing up for yourself! Kacchan steps on you because he knows all you’ll do is cry!”

Multiple times.

“Would ya quit crying already? You’re tougher than that, Izu. Like All Might!”

Constantly.

“Stop crying because you don’t have a quirk! Become a hero without one!”

It had always been you. You there comforting him, encouraging him, telling him to quit crying and speak up for himself. To keep pushing on despite the fact that he just wasn’t as gifted as other children. How could he have forgotten one of the most important lessons you ever taught him? How could he have forgotten about you?

You tugged one of your bunched sleeves down with your teeth and dried up the downpour of tears from his cheeks with your hoodie sleeve. Careful not to rub the skin raw, you kept at it until he was simply too shocked to cry anymore. This is the first time you’ve done this in years, yet far from the first time you’ve had to do it at all. Even as children, you were using your fingers, your sleeves, the edge of your shirt to wipe his tears away.

“I—”

“Shush, I don’t want to hear it unless it’s what you came here to say.” You interrupt, and the look in his eyes changes from nervous to determined.

“I was going to say that I am s-sorry,” He stutters.

“What else?” You encouraged, watching as he slowly gained more confidence. “You said you weren’t going to leave until you say what you need to say, keep your promise.”

“I was going to say that I don’t deserve you!”

“And are you lying?” You ask.

“No!” Midoriya exclaims more confidently, more certain of himself than before.

“And is that all you wanted to say?” You asked again, smiling as the sobbing boy from before completely changed with your encouragement, egging him on.

“No…” Midoriya confesses, faltering slightly as his nervousness returns. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to say it yet. Would that even be acceptable right now? Even as strong as he feels right now he can’t help but hesitate, to blush, to avoid your gaze.

“Then say it.” 

“I…” He trails off, suddenly terrified of the thought. He couldn’t! It would put everything on the line! “I-I…”

Your hand cups his cheek coaxing him to look back up at you.

“Stop hesitating, tell me what you want to say.”

He’s already put your friendship on the line, what difference would it make? You wanted the truth so you’d get it! He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before opening them again, meeting your own straight on. There’s a spark in those green eyes that wasn’t there before he squinted them shut. It’s like an emerald fire was lit behind them.

“I love you!”

It’s quiet.

You stare at him, and he stares right back, his determined gaze never weakening as he maintained eye-contact.

“You what?”

“You heard me,” Midoriya replies.

This time it’s your turn to shy away. Your face darkens incredibly fast, heart racing against your chest as your eyes darted from side to side, deep in thought. Your mind threw numbers together into every equation it knew, each answer coming out the same. You had expected an “I want to be friends again!” or “I want a second chance!” or “I want to fix this!”

Never in a million years could you have predicted him to say that. Not to you. Your eyes drifted back up to his. He looks a little less confident now, almost worried as he awaits your response.

“Get out.” You breathe, eyes wide as you stare at him watching his determined face change to one of confusion.

You couldn’t believe it. After forgetting your existence for almost a year, after only remembering when he found the bracelet, after only wanting to talk to you because it was most convenient to him… and he has the goddamn nerve to say that he loved you.

“W-what?” Izuku gasped, not understanding what was going on. Suddenly you were pressing yourself against the wall farthest from him on your bed.

“G-get out!” You exclaim, the angry tears running down your face.

“Y/N, what are you s-saying?” His voice shook, the tears starting to fall from his eyes again, his nose beginning to run as well as his entire body shook. Why were you telling him to leave? Did he make the wrong call? Did you not feel the same?

“Why are you lying to me?” You asked, the question coming out like a whisper.

“I-I’m not lying to you, I love you!” Midoriya cried. “Please, you have to believe me, I wouldn’t lie to you! I’ve always liked you—since we were kids, Y/N! I can’t fake that! You know I can’t!”

You shake as his desperate green eyes plead with yours, a sincerity in those irises you grew up staring into, a sincerity that just can’t be faked. He actually… he actually loved you? But why? He ignored you for a year!

“And you can honestly tell me that in that year you forgot about me you loved me?!” You demanded, your tears making your vision blurry and unmanageable.

“I never stopped loving you, even if it was overshadowed by my dream to become a hero, even if I made mistakes not even I can fix, my heart always belonged to you.” Midoriya crawled over to kneel in front of you on your bed where you still had your back pressed to the wall and your knees pulled tightly to your chest. “I’m not perfect, Y/N. I made a mistake by not being there for you, and I will do anything it takes to fix it if I can.”

“And you won’t forget me again? You promise?” You ask shakily, feeling a little embarrassed by how small you felt, scrunched up in such a way and crying in front of someone other than your cat at home.

“Yes,” His immediate response confirms it, not an ounce of hesitation present in the way it rolls off his tongue. “I promise, I’ll never forget you. And I’ll never be the reason you cry again.”

“Can you believe me?” Izuku reached his hand out to you.

“I… I believe you.” You admit, a small smile gracing your lips as you take his hand. Izuku lets out a relieved sigh, his free hand trembling over his heart. You can tell how terrified he was. “This doesn’t mean I forgive you though, Izu.”

“I know, and I’m going to try my very best to make it up to you. I promise.” Izuku states. It doesn’t bother him that you didn’t say ‘I love you’ back, he wouldn’t have deserved it. He’s going to have to work for it, and that was fine with him.

“Do you…” You started, face flushing and eyes avoiding his as you removed your hands from his face. “Do you wanna hug it out?”

“Yes!” You yelp when he throws himself at you, tackling you to the bed with his arms around you. You squeeze your own arms around him, face burrowing into his shoulder as you squeezed the life out of one another.

“Sorry.” He mutters when he realizes he’s practically on top of you and most likely crushing you. He moves to roll off of you but your arms only tighten around him.

“No, please just… can we just stay like this for a while?” You asked, and Izuku felt his heart beating so fast he was convinced it eventually just commit seppuku if it pounded any harder. He nodded against your shoulder, cheeks burning a bright crimson as he relaxes.

“Also,” You spoke up and he hummed in response, he couldn’t be bothered to move. You reached over to your nightstand to snatch the green bracelet from it, the green-haired boy whining when he had to re-adjust after you started moving. “Gimme your hand.”

He pulled away, green pools swirling with confusion. He complies with your sudden request and gasps when you slide the bracelet back onto his wrist.

“This belongs to you.” You smiled and he mirrored it with one of his own, hand impulsively taking yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your matching bracelets reflected the dim light of the room, casting a warm glow over your faces as you smiled at each other. No longer did you feel forgotten or used, instead you felt loved again. “Now get off  me.”

Izuku laughs and slips off of you to lay at your side, his arms pulling you in close so he could cuddle you, just like you did when you were kids.

Izuku rested his forehead against yours, one hand reaching up to timidly brush against your reddened cheek, causing your eyes to flutter closed and a small sigh to escape your smiling lips. He missed seeing you smile. But there was still something else that he needed to take care of before you drifted off to sleep.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yes?” You sighed sleepily, 

“Don’t ever feel like you have to keep quiet anymore, alright? Please, always talk to me.”

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing several times.

“Okay.”

#midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader angst #angst with a happy ending #confession #that shit hurted #midoriya izuku #izuku x reader #todoroki shouto #iida tenya #uraraka ochako #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha x you #bnha angst

[its-me-jessi]

Love Finds Its Way PT1

Pairing: Ivar X Reader

Summary: One day Y/N comes upon her first love she hasn’t seen in a long time since they went separate ways. She remembers how they came to meet each other for the first time. Back then he was a noble boy and she was the daughter of a pirate.

A/N: To be honest I had the idea to this story a long time ago but never really put it into writing until today. I really wanted to share it with you, and I hope you like it as well as I do. ☺🤗 I’d really appreciate any kind of feedback. Feel free to leave comments or reblog. 😊🧡

Part 2

"My name is Ivar." Ivar.

Tonight, the pub was particularly well visited. Everyone was holding a jug of beer and at least one woman to sweeten up their evening and night with. It wasn’t rarely seen that one woman was desired simultaneously by several men and that this desire degenerated into a fight between eager men. Only one could sleep with her tonight and who was better suited than the one with the most stamina and the greater strength. So, for a woman they fought loudly in one corner of the run-down pub, while in the other corner one beer was emptied after the other. The men chatted and often broke out in loud laughter, which even drowned out the music of the minstrels. The whole pub was filled with screams, laughter and music. It was a miracle that despite all the noise I got to overhear the conversation between the captain and a young man. Ivar. It seemed like this name made me keen-eared, because all of a sudden, all the noise became silent around me and I focused my attention on nothing, but the man named Ivar.

I moved inconspicuously away from the crew to another place that offered me a better view, a better view of his face. I had to see his face, his moves, his eyes. However, I didn’t want him to see me, which is why I hid behind a pole. I moved a bit to the side to have a better view of him. Immediately, I recognized him. It was Ivar, my Ivar, my great love. In all these years he hasn’t changed at all. But he is stronger than before, at least as far as I could tell by looking at his upper arms and chest. Shortly after I looked back into his distinctive face. It’s been way too long since I last saw his face, saw his full lips and could look him straight in the eyes. Into these beautiful blue eyes that shine in the light. I've always been enchanted by them since the moment I first saw him. How he looked up to me when I grabbed his hand to keep him from drowning. We were both so little and young when we first met.

I was only twelve years old when I went on board of a huge pirate ship for the first time. Everything was so exciting, especially the fact that I was forbidden to enter the ship, especially when it’s supposed to run in the sea shortly afterwards. Although my dad, the captain of the crew, always forbid me to sail with them because in his eyes I was too young, I found a way to evade the prohibition.

As it was getting darker, I climbed out of my window, careful to not make a sound. I tiptoed along the road down to the port, here and there hiding from my dad’s crew members and especially him. Engulfed in darkness, I ran to the ship unnoticed. Now that I was right in front of it, it looked even bigger than before. The view of this huge ship didn’t scare me as much as it made me more curious than I already was. I imagined it to be a whole new world that I really wanted to explore, and nothing stopped me anymore, except maybe the men doing their laps on board. That was the last obstacle that had to be overcome. All I had to do was to get past them unnoticed and hide quickly, and then I would have officially made it.

I sighed, already imagining my plan popping like a soap bubble before my eyes as the entrance was suddenly left completely unguarded for a moment. After I took the chance and ran on board I realized why. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who snuck on board. The son of another crew member was on board as well. It seemed like he has been hiding on board all day long. Somebody must have discovered and exposed him, since he was now facing the team in need of explanation. The incident drew the attention of the entire crew to the boy and it helped me to sneak on board. I had to thank the boy later on, even if he hadn't knowingly helped me.

Now I was finally on board of a ship, not knowing what kind of ship it actually was. Until that day, I always thought my dad was doing legal work.

The ship sailed out further and further, there was no land in sight anymore. My home was now miles away, which scared me a bit, because it was the first time for me being so far away from home and my familiar surroundings. Everything on board was new to me. My father was the only one I knew. I sure had spoken to a few men from his crew before, but they were still strangers to me. The ship's command, the tasks that the crew had to do on board were all new to me and still difficult to understand. I just watched curiously as the men were doing their job. At that time, my father steered the boat, I assumed. I wasn't sure, because I couldn't see him. He was on the deck above me and I didn't dare leave my hiding place to see if I was right in my assumption. I preferred to stay hidden and hardly move at all not to draw anyone's attention to me. It was far too exciting to experience life on board close up without anyone stopping me. I just had to make sure that it stayed that way.

Loud euphoric roars awoke me from my deep sleep. After a few hours of curious observation and amazement, I fell asleep hidden under the stairs. Apparently, it seemed like I didn't have slept very long since it was still pitch-black outside. Before I fell asleep, the crew and the sea was very calm and reassuringly peaceful. To be honest, I was scared of being attacked by pirates. Often as a child, I picked up stories about pirates that scared me. At the time, of course, I had no idea that I would one day witness these stories up close.

I looked through the stairs and saw another ship approaching ours slowly and carefully causing an uproar among the crew. The waves carried it through the sea, drawing it closer and closer until it was within ultimate reach. I watched the approaching ship attentively as well as fearfully and the people who, thanks to the lighting on board, were easy to recognize in the dark. That's not how I imagined pirates to look like. They were well dressed, far more noble than my father's crew, himself included. As they sailed past us, there was pure fear reflecting on their faces. None of them moved from the spot and I didn't understand why? Confused, I looked at the crew of the ship on which I was hiding. Unlike the strangers, they didn't look even a little bit scared. Many of them even had a grin on their faces, a cheeky and sneaky one. This nasty facial expression exactly met my expectations of a pirate. Was I wrong about my father? Was he one of the pirates I have always feared?

Slowly the ship drifted past us and a certain relief rose up in me, but it didn’t last long, because suddenly my father's deep voice rang out and I was startled. On command, some of the crew disappeared below deck and the next thing I heard was a loud bang closely followed by the sound of a hard collision and the sound of broken wood. Loud cries filled with terror and pain were heard. Three more loud bangs followed, and the screaming grew louder and louder. When I dared to step out from under the stairs and looked at the foreign ship, I witnessed how the ropes of the ship broke and the masts tilted. The ship was quite a bit larger than ours, but slower, especially now due to the damage it had suffered, so our ship could catch up with it quickly.

I was in shock and I clawed fearfully on a stair step. I couldn't believe what was happening in front of my eyes and I felt helpless. There was nothing I could do but watch the situation in disbelief. People died under the weight of the collapsing masts. Their screams rang out in my ears and made me feel their pain. My eyes wandered along the falling mast and a boy dangling from the ceiling caught my eye. He only held on with one hand and looked fearfully down into the sea. I sincerely hoped the railing would hold him, but on the contrary, individual parts of the ship kept breaking off and with them the boy fell into the deep water, which tore me out of my shock. I have to help him somehow. Without thinking about it any longer, I stormed to the unoccupied side of the ship. The crew gathered on the opposite side facing the doomed ship and its workforce. I looked at the crew, who are busy with rejoicing over the strangers' suffering and did not notice how I jumped over the railing. I had learned to swim at a very young age. My mother insisted: "In deep waters it saves you and others from the painful death, so don't be frightened and swim, my child." As I looked around, above and below the surface of the sea for the boy, her words came to my mind. The painful death. I wanted and had to protect the boy from it. And there he was! He came back to the surface and fought for every little bit of oxygen he could get. I didn't have much time before he goes down again, so I looked around for parts of the ship big enough to carry us both. Fortunately, I quickly noticed a wooden panel that was just big enough for him and me.

I swam as fast as I could and grabbed the wooden board before it drifted away. From that time on every second counted. I swung myself onto the driftwood and paddled with my little hands to the place where I had just seen the boy. Pure panic arose in me and the thought of being late spread inside my body because for a moment he was nowhere to be found but suddenly, a hand had grabbed the driftwood and my feelings told me it was the boy. I grabbed his second hand, which came out from under the water, and helped him to the surface. At first, he just looked at me surprised before he pulled himself onto the wooden plate to join me. Totally exhausted and out of breath he knelt on all fours, coughing and panting. He must have swallowed a lot of water. I wanted to help him so bad, but I hardly knew how. Primitively, I just patted him lightly on the back, hoping it would do him good. In fact, he stopped coughing. Instead, he stared up in a trance at the ship he belonged to. He too heard the roar and the screams and had to watch how many, with whom he had traveled and were possibly very close to, had already died or were still dying. Including his father. He had saved his son's life before he was killed by the mast along with all the other brave men. The shock was still deeply felt in both of us as we watched the crew of my father and he himself boarding the ship and killing the rest of the survivors to get to the valuable treasure. That's exactly how I imagined pirates to be. Insidious bastards who care more for gold than for actual human beings. I would have never thought that my own father was a pirate.

Slowly the excruciating screams stopped and what remained was the victorious roar of the crew and that of my father. Only now did I notice the skull, bright in the moonlight, which adorned the pirates' flag.

I remember how cold and uncomfortable it was that night. The waves drove our wooden panel further and further away from the scene and further out to the sea. Far and wide there was no land in sight and the freezing cold air made us shudder again and again. Our clothes were soaked to the skin. We were cold, had nothing to warm us up with and there was still nothing to look forward to. We were so young and only had ourselves. My loneliness was self-inflicted, but this boy was unintentionally separated from his family from one second to the next. I felt terribly sorry for him, and instead of my father, I felt guilty. If my father hadn't come upon their ship, his father would still be alive, he would be on board of the ship and could return home all safe and sound. Now he was anything but happy. He sat next to me, completely withdrawn. We have been drifting through the sea for hours, which seems to have no end and we still haven't spoken a word to each other. I had often looked over at him, watched him sit quietly and stare into the darkness as if he could still watch what was happening in the distance. "I'm so sorry for what happened!", he had heard me, I could tell by looking at him, but there was no reaction. If only I could have helped him, I would have done it immediately, but I had no choice but to look at him for another eternity and wait for help, for land or a word from him.

“It's rude to stare at someone like that,” I heard him speak for the first time in hours and was immediately ashamed of my behavior. He was right, it was not appropriate, my mother had taught me this lesson once before. I immediately apologized and looked away from him. I had been looking at him for hours, looking in his blue eyes that shone even in the dark. I wasn't ashamed of that, but rather of that he had noticed. "My name is Ivar and what's your name?" He asked me and looked over at me. His first movement since we were on this puny wooden board. At first, I was a little bit surprised that he was talking to me, but then I enjoyed the conversation. I immediately felt less lonely and hoped he felt the same way. "My name is Y/N! I'm glad to meet you, Ivar!”, I smiled sincerely at him and to my surprise he returned the smile. "Thank you for saving my life", I just smiled and with that we fell silent again. Neither of us spoke a word, we were too preoccupied with our thoughts. When will we see land? Will we die out here?

Thank you so so much for reading! Stay safe! 😇🧡

#ivar #ivar fanfic #ivar x reader #ivar vikings x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar fanfiction #ivar imagine #ivar lothbrok #ivar fic #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings #vikings tv show #vikings imagine #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic #fanfiction #fanfic

[sailorspazz]

10 Dance Vol. 6 Special Edition overview

Volume 6 of the 10 Dance manga was released in Japan on March 18th, 2021. As with volumes 4 and 5, there are both regular and special editions available. In this post, I will provide an overview of the release, including observations on changes that were made to the chapters compared to how they were printed in the magazine, plus summaries and select scans of content from the special edition booklet.

It is often the case that when chapters come out in the manga magazines, they aren't always fully polished, and since I became highly familiar with this run of chapters from the summaries I made, several things immediately jumped out at me as I went through the book. First of all, though chapter 29 was split into two parts and released in subsequent months in the magazine, these two halves were combined into one chapter, with no indication they had ever been separate. I assume that they were always intended to be one chapter, but since the full chapter was not completed before the deadline (and it was a month when 10 Dance was being given the cover image, so not possible to delay its release), it was simply split over two months instead.

For visual changes, the most common alteration was scenes that originally had little or no screentone having it added in:

There were also some instances of either slight panel redraws, or complete replacements with new panels. None of these were from particularly important scenes, so it could just be Inouesatoh or someone on her team didn't like the look of the original panels and wanted to change them. The following example has a bit of both, with Suzuki in the upper left corner being replaced, and his eyes being redrawn in the lower panel:

Personally, the most amusing addition I noticed was when Max was thinking about throwing a party. Originally, we didn't see what he was envisioning, but in the volume, an addition has been made in the background: the New Year's piece Inouesatoh drew with sexy men dressed as cows, except now they're bunnies!

As for dialogue, it appeared to be almost the same in both versions throughout. Some minor exceptions include a spot I found where the dialogue was put in a different order, swapping Sugiki’s lines between this panel and his first line on the following page (in addition to another altered panel example):

As well as in this shot of Suzuki describing how they tug at the thread that connects them through their dance. Whereas before it put the word “dance” next to the part about tugging on the thread to specify what was meant by that, it was deleted in the volume. And while it was originally described as “affirming that we’re connected”, this was also tweaked a bit to be, “affirming our connection”.

There were a couple instances of character names being different from when they appeared earlier in the story. In this volume, two characters who were last mentioned back in volume 2 (Lucas Calvo, one of the champions at the table in Blackpool, and Deeks, who Ernie said hated Sugiki because he "stole" his girlfriend), either from typos or intentional changes, weren't the same as before. Lucas' last name was written with a 'g' sound (ガルボ) instead of a 'c' (カルボ), and this change carried over to the volume. On the other hand, Deeks' (ディクス) name got transposed as Disc (ディスク) in the magazine, but was fixed in the volume.

There was a typo that unfortunately made it through to the volume (but could perhaps be fixed in future printings). In chapter 34, when Norman is testing Suzuki's skills, he flashes back to Sugiki taking the national title from him several years earlier. The text in this scene, written in English, incorrectly states that Suzuki won the championship, rather than Sugiki.

The volume also includes the usual additions that are not present in the magazine, such as the under the cover flap comic, and Inouesatoh’s notes about each chapter.

The cover flap comic (which looks very much like a sketch, compared to previous ones that have had more complete art), features the Shinyas during a practice session earlier on in the series in December, where Suzuki complains that Sugiki’s Latin just isn’t sexy. Sugiki suggests that he can practice being sexy by wiggling his butt around to write a message in the air. Suzuki worries that if he starts writing out “love” or something, he’ll have to run away and escape. Sugiki gets started, and Suzuki calls out each letter that he can make out from his elegant butt bouncing. After figuring out he’s written “M-E-R-R-Y”, Suzuki guesses that he’s writing “Merry Christmas”. Sugiki gets mad that he said it aloud before he finished writing his message, and says he’s going to leave. Suzuki says, “Wait, I love you,” as narrative text says that this somehow turned into a love story in one panel.

And here are some tidbits I found interesting/amusing from the chapter notes:

She thinks readers who are fans of pecs will like Saichi.

She’s not sure if readers will love Max or hate him, but she personally likes him (sorry Sensei, I kinda hate him lol)

As of chapter 32, a portion of the art is now done digitally.

The epic “last dance” scene from 33 was something that she had planned since the beginning of the series, and it ended up being 8 times the cost for a typical chapter.

Special edition booklet:

The special edition comes with a 48 page hardcover booklet that includes a variety of different extras, divided into 8 sections called “heats”.

Heat 1 is a newly drawn, 12 page parody manga. Back in September 2020, Inouesatoh put out a request on Twitter for fans to send in their suggestions for an erotic side story. Putting the characters in a high school setting was the most requested scenario, so she chose this idea as the basis for the story. The title is “And All That Jazz” (the premise makes this somewhat confusing to summarize, so keep in mind that I’ll mostly be describing their actions based on the soul rather than the body, but will use quotation marks if it’s about other characters and who they think they’re addressing. It’ll all make sense, I promise...I think :P)

(The title page actually depicts the ending of the story, so I’ll come back to it later). It starts with Suzuki narrating his introduction, saying that he’s a transfer student to the Standard Academy. He really doesn’t get along with a guy named Sugiki, but for some reason, the two have now switched bodies with each other. Sugiki opens his shirt and inspects his new physique in front of other students, as Suzuki yells out asking what the hell he’s doing to his body. They look at themselves wearing each other’s expressions, Sugiki seeming surprised his mouth can gape open like that, and Suzuki wondering what happened to his body’s facial expression muscles. The bell rings and Sugiki heads off to class, as Suzuki is baffled that he can act so calm about this.

Sugiki perfectly reads a passage aloud in English class, something everyone (including the teacher, who looks like Norman) find unusual coming from “Suzuki”, as they wonder where his usual hearts are. Suzuki makes the decision to enjoy living as Sugiki for a bit, and is shown getting flirty with several girls. He notes that the more serious personality in his regular body is also strangely popular, though with a very different crowd.

A student named Alberko (Alberto in a girl’s uniform) shows up and says that “Sugiki” was supposed to have lunch with her(?) today. Suzuki says that he thought Alberko was going out with Dorou (a masculine alteration to Dolores’ name). Ernie and Suzuki watch as his harem falls apart with Alberko running amok. Ernie comments that both “Sugiki” and that transfer student have been acting weird all week, and he asks if something happened. Suzuki internally reflects back to one week earlier, when he was relaxing in bed in the infirmary. Sugiki comes in and accuses him of skipping class, and Suzuki tells him to mind his own business. He thought this would turn into one of their usual fights, but he can’t believe that actually happened instead...

After school, Sugiki asks Suzuki if they can go home together today. As they’re walking, Suzuki asks if Sugiki realizes what it was that made them switch places, and Sugiki says he does. Suzuki says that in that case, they know how they need to fix it, and they should go over to his house. Sugiki asks for clarification of whose house exactly he means by that.

As they start to get undressed, Suzuki says that he always thought his mom and sisters were annoying, but after a week apart he really misses them. Sugiki promises that he’ll make sure he can see them soon. Suzuki claims that he’ll be the one making Sugiki come, and Sugiki asks how he can talk like that when he was the one who looked like he was about to cry when Sugiki first touched him in the infirmary.

Sugiki peeks into Suzuki’s pants and wonders if he won’t get hard unless he touches him. Suzuki thinks it’d be weirder if he could get hard while looking at his own face, and wonders if Sugiki has AI in his crotch or something (Sugiki contends that it’s not his body). They fool around with each other until they finish, and Suzuki wonders why they didn’t change back yet. Sugiki suggests that maybe it needs to be just like the last time to count as a complete set, when they went at it until they fell off the bed, so both agree that they need to go for one more round. This then ties back to the title page, where they’ve finally managed to get back into their old bodies, but have now sprouted cat ears and tails.

Heat 2 of the booklet is 8 pages long, and contains short comics and illustrations that were not previously included in the volume releases. The comics include “How to 10 Dance”, a one-page comic with the Shinyas demonstrating the tango. Their privates end up touching, and Sugiki seems highly amused, gleefully asking Suzuki how it feels. Suzuki says that he was the one who got all bent out of shape over that back in volume 1, and tells him to lay off the sadist mode since they’re not dancing Latin right now. The second comic is “2nd Step”, and shows a glimpse of how the Shinyas were with each other after Suzuki gave the go-ahead for kissing. In fact, Sugiki ends up kissing him so much that Suzuki’s lips get sore and swollen. Sugiki then tries to kiss his neck as an alternative, but Suzuki’s not having it. The third comic depicts Suzuki’s first time in a public bath, where he realizes that Japanese people aren’t fully shaved everywhere like he is. Some of the old guys talk to him and slap their balls with their towels, and Suzuki, seeming a bit confused, gives his own balls a slap, too. After the comics are a selection of illustrations that were never used in the volumes, including this one from a Real 10 Dance event in 2018:

Heat 3 is 18 pages, and contains a variety of colored versions of both chapter covers and scenes from the manga, a couple of which I’ll share below:

Heat 4 includes 3 pages of insight from the professional dancers who consult for the manga, in which they explain the moves shown in specific panels.

Heat 5 is a single page look at Inouesatoh’s work space.

Heat 6 is 3 pages worth of advertisements that have been used to promote the series, including things like ads that were posted in subway stations:

Heat 7 is a single page look at the storyboard for chapter 1 of the manga.

Heat 8 is a single page showing the covers for foreign editions of the manga (Taiwanese, Korean, North American, and French).

Finally, there’s one last page with a thank you message from Inouesatoh, including an absolutely precious illustration of the Shinyas in happier times.

And that’s that! This really is an incredible release, and I’d definitely recommend picking up the special edition if you can. CD Japan offers direct international shipping, and I’ve also seen that Kinokuniya lists it as “available to order” currently (though they don’t appear to have stock on hand, so might take longer).

#10 dance #10dance

[famouskittychild]

Star Wars Fun in the Sun

vol 2 - At the pool

This is my gift (vol2) for @milfsyndullas in the Fun in the Sun gift exchange (hosted at @starwarsfandomfests). Some poolside fun during a break away from the war with the trio of Obi-wan, Anakin and Ahsoka. 

AO3 

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The small skiff that had carried them down to the planet was a welcome sight. It was the first civilian craft they had been in for a while, and the unusual colours, shapes and interior kept them occupied during the descent.

“What a nice little ship this is” expressed Ahsoka what all three of them were thinking. Obi-wan answered with his usual serenity.

“Yes, it was acquired for the Grand Army not long after the beginning of the war. The planet we are heading to is on a supply line, so many of their infrastructure is now helping the war effort.”

Anakin’s mood darkened a bit though if anyone would’ve asked why, he couldn’t have answered. Ahsoka did find the problem for him.

“So… they had to give up their livelihood to the Republic…”

“... and the Republic uses it so they can go back to live their lives undisturbed by war as soon as possible.” Obi-wan nodded.

The skiff banked and they had a great view at the land under them. Green forests, white dwellings and small blue lakes were the dominant features under the patchy cover of rainclouds. The craft straightened out, bringing the landscape slowly out of view. The pilot’s voice came through the on-board comm system.

“We will be landing in five minutes. Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing.”

 The facility that was chosen as housing for the visiting officers was a sprawling complex of low, simple buildings nestled in a valley between gently rising hills. The person who took them over from the clerk at the front desk told them about the place after Obi-wan asked about it. Lilac Crescent was a holiday resort, with the attractions of forest walks, multiple lakes and wildlife reserves nearby.

“Soon after the war started, the ‘Crescent was acquired for the war effort. The tourism dried up anyways, what with all the blockades and restrictions. We usually host training sessions here, or provide housing for all kind of personnel, from troopers to clerks to maintenance workers. Most recently we had a conference for medical personnel. This way please.”

They reached a pair of glass doors on the corridor. It opened onto a spacious square that had a large enough space in the middle for every resident to gather there. Outside of the open area, the lawn was dotted with benches, tidy bushes and picnic tables. Small pathways led to the white walled cabins strewn around the premises, trees giving shade to them here and there.

Their building was off from the main one somewhat. Behind the cabins there were clusters of larger houses with two stories.

“Those have apartments, as we were told we can expect some of your colleagues to join you later. We had prepared an apartment with three bedrooms for you; if there is any request or you would like a different one, please let us know and we can make the necessary adjustments.”

“Thank you” Obi-wan answered for all three of them. They knew they wont be asking for anything.

There were differently coloured doors for each of the separate apartments on the outside of the building, but their guide led them to a widest, double door in the middle. It opened into an alcove cutting straight through the building,  walls lined with ferns and other shadow tolerant plants. As they rounded the corner and stepped into the inner courtyard, they all drew to a stop. Their guide grinned at them, no doubt expecting their reaction from experience with other visitors. Ahsoka’s jaw dropped, Anakin broke into a grin, and even Obi-wan’s smile grew wider.

“A swimming pool?” Ahsoka breathed.

“With parasols!” Anakin pointed out, which made Ahsoka snap around to look at him. She didn’t expected him to single those out when there was a small slide at one corner.

“And a slide!” she pointed it out to him.

“This is very nice.” Obi-wan turned to their guide. “Thank you.”

Their guide smiled.

“You are very welcome. Your unit will be just over there” they pointed towards the corner on their right, at one of the transparent wide doors. “Communal rooms on the ground floor, bedrooms and fresher upstairs. The shed over there contains pool equipment. There’s instructions for everything that needs instructions, and the rest is safe to use as is.”

They gave the keycards to Anakin who stood closest.

“The main building has meals all through the day, and we have a delivery service too, accessible from your datapads, both for groceries and meals. Just use the comm in the lounge if you need anything, any time.”

They thanked them for their help, smiling and looking forward to spending a few days there, then the employee left and they went to settle into their rooms. The glass double doors opened to the lounge, with low sofas in cheerful colours. Other transparent sliding doors separated the kitchen and dining areas, with windows set high on the walls that looked outside, for privacy. They opened all of them and enjoyed the breeze crossing the house.

Ahsoka run upstairs then yelled down telling them she had found her room.

“Its the one with the blue curtains!”

Anakin was inspecting the taps and Obi-wan was reading the safety guide posted on the hallway wall. Ahsoka grabbed their bags and carried them upstairs, leaving them in the middle of the foyer on the landing, thinking the other two can choose their rooms later. They were still inspecting the place when she got back downstairs. Anakin was now looking at the kettle, flipping the switch on and off on it. It was an old, almost entirely mechanical model, nothing like the automated appliances they were used to. She plopped down onto a sofa and relaxed.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we will have to leave for the briefing soon.” Obi-wan told her, as she expected he would, and she sighed. They might have come here for training and other official stuff, not even knowing for exactly how many days, but at least their surrounding were nice. She looked out at the pool. Very nice.

If only the weather would cooperate.

 After returning at the end of their official schedule later that day, Ahsoka went to the top floor straight away, leaving the other two downstairs. There was a large closet on the corridor, right by the stairs, that she wanted to investigate. She wondered what would be stored there; not bedlinen or bathing towels, as those were supplied with each room in their own closets. She opened the large doors and her jaw dropped. The contents of the spacious storage were so colourful, it reminded her of a toyshop.

“What are these? Circus tent accessories?” She mused, than looked closer. The neat piles were sorted by type it seemed. There were some that looked like towels, in several sizes. Others seemed to have tailoring and hems - cloaks, probably; and then there were thin shawl-looking pieces, and simple carrier bags in several sizes, and an assortment of hats. She pulled out one of the clothes-looking things: it was a loosely shaped yellow and blue striped dress. It was probably meant to fit many sizes and shapes with its wide sleeves, overlapping panels and ties at the waist and hems.  

The corners of her mouth turned upwards. This closet was here probably for the same reason the shed down by the pool was: to be used by guest who didn’t bring their own things, or just needed a spare of something. She could choose for herself, yes. But she could also choose for all three of them.

Just to spare the bother for the others.

 Fifteen minutes later, she hopped down the stairs, with a pile for the two jedis on her arm.

Anakin looked up at the sound of her barrelling down the stairs and stopped in his tracks as she came into view.

“Where did you got those?”

Ahsoka stopped in the middle of the room and looked down at herself as if just noticing that something is out of the ordinary.

“Oh. These. I found them in the closet upstairs. I’ve got some for you, master, and for Master Kenobi.” She lifted her arm with the suspicious pile. Anakin raised an eyebrow at her.

“Thank you for your effort”, he said cautiously. If her current look and the cascade of colours and patterns he could see where any indication, they weren't in for anything good.

Over her clothes she was wearing a cheerful lilac wrap-dress with a pattern of small blue flowers. She had a large towel thrown over her shoulder in a riot of greens, yellows and purples. The most unusual was the wide brimmed yellow hat she had over her montrals, the top of them sticking out of it.

She must’ve noticed his gaze as she glanced up at her headwear.

“I even found hats for non-round-heads. This will be good against the sun, isn’t it?” She addressed the question for both of them, as Obi-wan had moved closer too.

“What had you chosen for us?” he asked her in his usual light tone. Anakin braced himself, and his padawan’s exited grin just further spurred his suspicions.

He was right. She got them a similarly riotous assortment of shirts, dressing gowns, towels and even hats. Obi-wan seemed happy with her choices, but Anakin felt a bit uncomfortable.

“These are so… colourful.” He tried to put it into words. He wasn’t sure it was right for them, or for him, to wear things like these.

Ahsoka shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“That was my intent, master. Usually we have plain clothes, but we are on holiday. I thought we might enjoy our clothes for once, not just use them.”

Anakin looked at her, and realized he had to make a choice. She was right, there was nothing wrong with letting their hair down a bit. On the other hand, he also realized that his padawan had probably chosen the most outrageously coloured and patterned and maybe even tailored things she could find.

Out of habit, he glanced over to his former master. Obi-wan looked back from the corner of his eye, lips in a half smirk, and Anakin knew he had came to the same conclusion. But Anakin was the teacher here; it had to be his choice how to handle this.

“Make sure to take some holo recordings whilst we are wearing these, as you already went to the trouble of selecting the most outrages ones for us.”

Ahsoka opened her mouth to dispute some of what he said, then wisely changed her mind.

 The weather, as it often happens, did not cooperate. It rained through the next day, but at least they were busy with their schedule. They were also told to have a rest for another four days. Their troopers were back on Kamino, getting their usual update courses and evaluations. They could expect the officers showing up sometime the last day or two, depending on other factors. Until then, they were free to relax.

They talked about maybe going back to Coruscant, but Obi-wan cut that idea short.

“We haven’t had any time away either from the battlefields or the operation planning on Coruscant. Rest is important, too. Let’s recharge in the next few days.”

“Then when the boys get here we can dive straight back into action.” Anakin added, already on board. Ahsoka looked between the two of them, then shot a pointed look towards the courtyard.

“Swimming pool?” she asked. So far they had no time to try it out.

“Not in this weather” Anakin looked out through the doors. Over the low roofs of the building, the clouds were grey. It was raining intermittently.

“Not exactly pool weather,” Obi-wan was still cheerful despite it, “but good for a barbecue.”

The other two met his enthusiasm with doubt.

“Master Kenobi, it’s raining.” Ahsoka stated, just in case he missed the obvious. She could find no other explanation.

��Thank the Force for whoever had invented the umbrella, than.” He smiled at them once more before getting up from the sofa and getting ready to head out.

 Off to the side of the lounge doors in front of every apartment was a small enclosed area with tiled floor, surrounded with low walls and small shrubs. There was enough room for a table and four chairs on one side and a pair of sunbeds opposite. It also had a built in grill with a cover over it at about shoulder height but no roof for whoever was standing in front of it.

Ahsoka and Anakin decided to stick to the lounge, reading their datapads and watching holos. They occasionally looked outside at Obi-wan, grilling away in his purple shirt decorated with palm leaves. He was using one hand to hold whatever utensil he needed and the other to hold the colourful umbrella. He even twirled it once in a while.

They thought him a bit silly, standing outside in the gloomy weather and messing with the smoky grill when they had a very well equipped and rain-free kitchen. Until he came back indoors with a pile of grilled meats and vegetables.

“Get those salads we ordered earlier, please. Time for dinner.”

Ahsoka retrieved the stack of dishes they had ordered from the Crescent’s own kitchen. Obi-wan piled up a plate for her with meats, and shared out the veggies between Anakin and himself, then they all had their pick from the salads. Anakin pestered Ahsoka light heartedly about her not eating her veggies, and she showed her carnivore canines to him as answer. But they both thanked Obi-wan for making the majority of the food, and for making it delicious. 

“Lets hope the weather turns soon” he answered before tucking in.

 The colourful wooden building the opposite of their apartment on the other side of the pool, turned out to be a shed housing treasures, at least according to Ahsoka. When they had woken up to clear skies and sunshine the that morning, it was all she could do to wolf down her breakfast porridge before she raced outside.

On their third day, it finally did, and they broke out the pool equipment.

Anakin followed her.

“I think I should supervise. I don’t want the pool to end up with rainbow bubbles.” He got up, and Obi-wan stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth. That was something that didn’t occur to him before. Than he reminded himself that they were on officially mandated holiday, and the employees of the Crescent assured them that everything is safe that was stored around the pool for guests to use. He hoped safe didn’t mean skin coloured to purple and teal patches that takes weeks of three rounds of daily sonic use to fade away.

The sun was still low but started to rise above the rooftops surrounding the courtyard. It made him remember another thing he had learned the hard way. He gathered the dishes but left the washing up for later, then he followed his former padawan and their current padawan outside.

The sun had already dried up any remnants of puddles on the tiled courtyard. He did spot some dew on the patches of lawns between the poolside and the individual terraces but only where there was till shadow. He knew the last reminders of the past few rainy days will vanish before noon and the meteorology service promised sunshine with a bit of breeze for the coming days. Perfect poolside weather.

He caught up with the younger ones and peaked over their shoulders. They were combing through the contents of the pool shed, at the moment inspecting the second shelf from the left. It had colourful boxes on the top shelves and some larger containers at the bottom.

“What are those?” He asked, and the other two jumped. “Sorry.”

Anakin waved him to not worry about it, and shoved him one of the boxes.

“Inflatables. There’s an airpump over there,” he pointed at a small machine in the corner, “and we are trying to choose.”

“I want the thranta. They are adorable.” Ahsoka said, showing the box already in her hand. Anakin raised an eyebrow.

“Those are aiwhas, obviously. The shape of the head…”

Ahsoka leaned forward, ready to argue with him. Obi-wan threw his palms up, stopping them.

“Argue later, please. For now, I want to remind you two to a very important thing.”

They both turned to him and showered him with guesses.

”Not to drown in the pool?” ”Not to pee in the pool?””Anakin! Where did you get that idea?!””The boys, obviously…”No eating in the pool!””No datapads, they aren’t actually waterproof.””Wear haircaps!””Not me!””Wear goggles?“

“Stop, please.” Obi-wan sighed, and the other two calmed down a bit. “I meant sunscreen. Plenty of sunscreen.” He paused, then looked at each of them in turn. “Learned that the hard way.”

“I smell a good story” grinned Ahsoka.

“I smell a funny story” Anakin added. Obi-wan rolled his eyes.

“If you want to know, yes, at one time I gut a sunburn so bad after a mere afternoon outside that I needed medical care. My face was red for two weeks and I needed to slather enough cooling lotion on myself that it would’ve covered a grown thranta. Or an aiwha.”

The other two tried not to laugh. Obi-wan was so pale, it was hard to imagine him all red, but they managed it of course. And it was hilarious. Only their respect for him stopped them to laugh at him, at least whilst he was standing in front of them.

“I haven’t seen any in the house, I guess people bring their own with them when they come here. I’ll put on a delivery request for them. Until that arrives, you two stay out of direct sunlight.” Again he looked at each of them in turn. It must have been really important to him if he was putting so much emphasis on it. “You don’t want to end up all red like I did back then.”

“Well that would be terrible” Ahsoka deadpanned, looking at her arms. Obi-wan smiled.

“I apologize. I should have worded that differently.”

“Like ‘burned like a crispy stuffed tomato’ for example?” Anakin volunteered. Obi-wan shot him a look but there was humour behind it. He left them to continue their exploration and went back to the lounge to put the order in on his datapad.

 The shed was a treasure throw. Neither of them had ever been to a place like this. They did swim at the temple’s pool but that was for learning and training. They never had the opportunity yet to just have fun with some water. It was extra nice that it wasn’t a beach - no sand. Anakin could never get used to having sand around water. Sand was desert, aridity, and water was everything the desert wasn’t. He could also never wrap his mind around the fact that the larger the body of water the more sand it’s shores tended to have.

Or that people went there willingly not just to swim but to play in the sand. For him, that substance was hard, gritty life, and when having fun, he didn’t wanted to be reminded of that.

Ahsoka had no such qualms, although she knew about her master’s aversion and she sympathised with him.

 By the time Obi-wan had arrived with the sunscreen sometime later, the other two had a competition going on. The airpump stood unused by their side and they were trying to inflate their respective pool floats using only their own lung capacities.

“That’s futile but a valiant effort” Obi-wan commented, and the other two threw him the annoyed look of the young. “I also have the sunscreen here, if you two need a break.”

They didn’t, of course, and they continued their strenuous competition. Watching the other two getting more and more winded whilst their floats where still barely more than colourful limp piles at their feet, Obi-wan sat down at one of the sunbeds around the pool with his yellow-green-red spotted towel and started to put lotion on his skin methodically.

“Do you need help, master?” Anakin asked some time later. Obi-wan looked up to see that they had stopped - and barely made progress - and were both looking at him. He shook his head, a bit confused about the question.

“No, I can manage, thank you Anakin.”

The other two exchanged looks than turned back to him. Than he realized. He was finished with the front of his torso and his shoulders; next would be his back. Which they thought would be a problem for poor old Obi-wan, obviously.

“Don’t worry I can reach my own back.” He turned around so they could see, and hooked his hands together behind his back, one arm over his shoulder the other reaching up from below. “See?”

He turned around and the other two had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. He didn’t blame them. He might’ve had similar thoughts about others at their age.

“Now how are those floats going?” he asked while his hands were working on his back.

“Abysmal.” “Hopeless.” “Futile.” “They are faulty.” “Yes, I bet they have holes on them.”

Obi-wan shot a look at them that made them stop.

“Well, I guess, we should admit defeat…”Anakin conceded, “and just use the machine.”

“Yes, I think that’s a good idea, master” agreed Ahsoka too.

They went over to the machine and in a few minutes they had two colourful, vaguely air-whale shaped mattresses. Ahsoka’s one was teal and turquoise and gray, while Anakin had a pink-blue-yellow one for himself.

“Would you like one too, master?” They already started to walk towards the shed.

“No thank you Anakin, I’ll chose one later after I finished.”

“It’s not a problem” and they already vanished. Obi-wan sighed, wondering what will he get. Between his shirts that Ahsoka cheerfully picked out for him every morning - he had a pink one on with tiny porgs all over it today- and his towels - those he choose himself, but the selection for both ranged from “cheerfully bright” through “interesting pattern” to “what where they on when they designed this”- he probably wore more colour in this past few days than usually did in a standard year, disguises included. He decided to wait to see what they chose for him, than he’d just have make his own choice if he doesn't like their selection.

 He didn’t liked it. It was some large bird, green and purple, and unlike theirs, wasn’t flat but shaped like a very awkward chair. So he went and rummaged around, settling on a large torus shaped something in all the colours of the rainbow. He was already covered in colours, so he thought why not go all out.

They air-whales were already floating on the water. Anakin and Ahsoka were sitting at the edge of the pool near them, hanging their legs into the water, passing the sunscreen bottle back and forth between them. After inflating his own device, Obi-wan saw that they were taking the task of screening up seriously. He got hold of the doughnut firmly, took a two careful steps to speed up than jumped onto the water. As he landed, he splashed up a good deal of water - straight at the two younger ones.

“Master!” he heard the two indignant voices. He turned to look at them innocently.

“Yes my dears?”

They had water dripping all over them. He knew they’ll get back at him later. He padded away, looking for the small portable music device he remembered seeing somewhere beside the pool. Might as well have some music too.

 Their attack was coordinated and well executed. Anakin floated in front of him, blocking his view and chatting with him. Under that cover, Ahsoka managed to round him unnoticed, then at a sign they both grabbed his doughnut and upturned it, tossing him into the water.

“Vengeance!” the yelled, laughing, as Obi-wan resurfaced spluttering, shaking his hair out of his eyers. Their alliance broke up almost immediately as their floats bumped into each other and they started to jostle.

“Hey, mind the thranta!” Ahsoka warned.

“It’s an aiwha.” Anakin pushed her, and her mattress wobbled heavily, threatening to throw her off.

“Yours maybe. This one isn't.”

They argued back and forth about the properties of the different air-whale species until they managed to knock each other off their respective float. All three in the water, the fight turned to everyone for themselves. Ahsoka was the shortest but also the most agile, and she swam around the other two like a fish. Anakin and Obi-wan was evenly matched, and they managed to push each other under the water and being pushed down by the other about equal frequency. Ahsoka won the battle when she remembered that she saw some long, straight foam rolls in the shed and whilst the other two was occupying themselves she sneaked out to get them Than she slapped them both on top of their heads, making them admitting defeat.

 When they got too tired - and hungry - they climbed out of the water and wrapped up in their oversized towels. Ahsoka’s was so large it covered her like a tent, but she loved the one she had and kept in on: it had tookas all over it. Than they fired up the barbecue again. This time Obi-wan had help, mostly because the other two were really hungry. After eating, he pulled out a second box of deliveries, just when they were getting ready to get back into the water.

“What are those?”

The largish box was full with bottles and jars, their contents a rainbow of colours.

“This, dear Ahsoka,” Obi-wan checked his datapad, “ well, let me read out the official product designation. This is a ‘The starter box every pool party needs if you want to avoid your guests getting too rowdy, touchy or messing up your place in one way or another - Everything You Need to Make Your Own Mocktails, Starter pack for twelve guests’. This was the smallest package, the others were for 24, 30, 50 or even more guests.”

“That’s how they called their product?” Anakin dug into the box, pulling out a jar with small golden fruits in it. It harmonised with the shirt he had on, with songbirds. “And they are still in business…”

“Who has twelve guest?” was Ahsoka’s observation.

“Here are some recipes” Obi-wan handed a small puck to her. She pushed a button on the cheap plastic gadget and a cheery hologram of an assortment of colourful drinks in fancy glasses showed up. She scrolled to the next picture, and there was indeed a recipe for the simplest of drinks under it.

“Syrup, water, bubbles - where do we get bubbles?” she mused.

“I think there’s a gadget for that. All is supposed to be in the box.” Obi-wan shrugged.

They all choose from the supplied list than set to measure and shake and stir. The first round was a success.

“Let’s try some of the more complicated ones” Anakin suggested only halfway into his drink. Ahsoka scrolled through the recipes and they found one that they both liked.

“How about this one. ‘Chandrilla Sunrise’. Phew, long list, but doesn’t seem too complicated.”

Their first try failed, predictably.

“Focus, padawan. I think we’ll have to follow the instructions by the letter.” Anakin furrowed his brows.

“Oh dear, that’s terrible” commented Obi-wan, than he turned back to his own holopad quickly. “I’ll will just look up some more tricks and recipes while you two… brew.”

They messed up something again. The colours didn’t stay separate bands but blended together into a muddy mix. Obi-wan found the root of their problem.

“The recipe doesn’t mention it, but here it says you have to keep each syrup chilled before pouring them into the glass, than wait a bit for it to warm up to air temperature before adding the next one.” The other two made a ‘hmm, gotcha’ noise simultaneously. “Other advise is to chill the glass beforehand.”

“Let’s try those ideas.” Anakin’s enthusiasm renewed, they got back to work on their third glass. It was a success, finally. Then they had to repeat the process two more times so each of them had a glass for themselves. Decorating them with straws, paper shapes that went over the edge and extra candied fruits.

Ahsoka exchanged her towel to a blue dress with puffy pink clouds printed on it, then turned the volume up on the music player before picking up her glass again. The sun was shining, their bellies were full and no one was shooting at them. It was a great day.

 The sun was slowly getting lower over the rooftops. Music was playing at an acceptable volume now after Ahsoka started to go a bit overboard before and they had to shout to hear each other. Some of the sunbeds were covered with towels and wraps and hats as they tossed them aside when not needed. They took turns on the slide, having a competition about who could make the biggest splash when crashing into the water. Anakin seemed to be in the lead.

“It’s not fair, you are just taller, that’s your advantage!” Ahsoka complained as they stood at the edge of the pool. Obi-wan agreed with her.

“Yes, he doesn’t use any technique aside of stretching out all limbs.”

Anakin grinned at them.

“You two are just sore losers.” Then he suddenly turned and with a single step, reached the edge of the pool and jumped. The other two barely had enough time to turn away before he smashed into the pool, splashing plenty of water at them.

 After declaring Anakin the splasher champion, him and Ahsoka got back on their floats for another round of foam-noodle duel and general splashing about. Obi-wan had stuck to his datapad, still reading about drink-making tricks and flavour harmonization and fruit types. He floated around on his doughnut as far as possible from the ruckus the other two were making, sipping from his glass with an umbrella in it and a fruit rind over its edge. By the end of the day, he had made almost a dozen different drinks, and they never had to float around long without one in hand, or put aside at the edge of the pool.

“Don’t forget to visit the fresher if you need to, master” Ahsoka reminded Anakin, who shot her a look of mock offence.

“Now why would you say that?” He took a sip of his drink, than furrowed his brow. “Actually that's not that bad of an idea.”

It took him a while to paddle to the edge of the pool using only one hand.

“You can do it, master!” “Use your legs!” “Don’t drop the glass, I spent half hour on that one!” was just a few of the advice he had received.

He mock- growled back at them then laughed himself as he finally climbed up onto the tiles.

“I'm so proud of you” Obi-wan told him, and raised his glass, Ahsoka’s giggling behind him.

They stayed out after the sun had already set, than gathered up their their stuff and went to sleep tired but happy.

 Just like the day before, Anakin and Ahsoka spent most of the day in the pool. They got very good at jumping in from the edge of the pool without their feet slipping on the wet tiles. When they got tired of that, they flopped onto their respective air-whales and padded about, occasionally bumping into each other and having a wrestling match. Obi-wan had joined them before, after the sun dipped a bit lower after the glare of the middle of the day. He even jumped in himself a few times, though he enjoyed the slide more. He was now making a late afternoon meal; the leftovers were all gone and he was happy to muck about the barbecue yet again.

He heard some noises from outside. It was quiet aside of the splashing coming from the pool and the noises made by the small portable music player. Maybe they were getting some neighbours before the officers arrived. They were expecting them the next day, no later than noon. Then the noises grew louder and he could tell that they were definitely made by sentients, and were getting closer. He stuck his head out around the barbecue’s wall and peaked towards the courtyard entrance, just in time to see the approaching group of clone officers step out into the sunshine. They burst into hollering upon seeing them, and when Ahsoka and Anakin noticed them they greeted them from the water with equal enthusiasm.

Obi-wan sighed. How lucky, he thought, that he spent the last afternoon studying how to make mocktails. He checked that everything that was on the grill could be left there for a little while, than he wiped his hands on his ‘Best chef in the sector’ apron and got his datapad.

As the officers gathered around the pool, chatting with Anakin and Ahsoka and no doubt planning to get in the water as soon as possible, he opened the delivery service on his datapad. He run through the items in his head that they’ll need to feed everyone. And the drink supplies too.

Maybe he can get some of them to help out with the food and drink preparations - if he can drag them from the pool first.

#sw fun in the sun #swfuninthesun #summer gift exchange #disaster trio #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #poolside #my writing