#originally i was gonna do the tight curled horns

[saphushia]

your design for doc is probably the coolest looking thing I’ve ever seen. he looks like something that just came lumbering out of the woods with heavy footsteps and you just kind of sit there and go wow. that is so incredibly cool.

ty! here's a couple scribbles from recently where i was messing with his design <3 i'd only drawn him like once maybe twice before n wasn't entirely satisfied with my old design lmao

doc to me is someone who looks super fucking scary, like he's 7-8 feet tall and it's hard to read his face and his voice sounds like he could go into a villain monologue at any moment, but once you get to know him you realize he's kinda just a huge dork who knows he can absolutely lean into his scary factor to mess with people. like yeah he can break game mechanics and make horrible death machines but like. that really isn't even that big of a deal in the grand scheme of hermitcraft. he's just a silly guy who likes the villain aesthetic and making fucked up machines

#originally i was gonna do the tight curled horns #but i saw a post a while back abt how that's actually sheep horns n goat horns dont curl that tight #so i thought i'd try out smth different #n i think it gives him a really striking cool look n makes him even more intimidating <3 #art #hermitcrap #hermitcraft #answers #anonymous #fanart #docm77

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Capitulo 2

credit @brekitten @bucketorandomness @hermit-scribe-vibe for help and inspiracion :D

Danny clamped his teeth down on his kill, at last a fish big enough that to feed the both of them, and which hadn't escaped. Ear fins fanned out, he kept wary of approaching hums of boat engines.It could've been only a few minutes, but to Danny it was as if hours had passed. He'd already failed Damian once, and for his distraction he earned a new gash or two from his hunt.

Danny startled when he came back. Damian had not awoken just yet, but the transformation was complete. Dark green scales enveloped every inch of skin on his body, soft from youth. Spots of gold scales like freckles gathered around his cheeks, and at the base of each of his fins and transitioned into full golden membrane with the faintest red along the tips.

And of course, Damian had no legs, none at all, replaced by the thick sinew and muscles of a siren's tail. All of this Danny knew would happen, and expected, but he never thought about how tiny Damian looked at the moment.

From head to tailfin, Damian's new height (or length?) only equalled half of his human height. Siren children were small compared to humans, for sure, but even Youngblood was easily a head or two taller than Damian at this moment.

Before he could ruminate further, Damian's eyes shot open. Faster than Danny could blink, the new siren launched himself at Daniel with a piercing shriek of a war cry.

Damian's talons gripped onto Danny's scales, and his jaw snapped down upon his shoulder like a vice. Danny yelped and fell upon his back and bent his sail.

Damian's tiny hands wrapped around the elder boy's neck. His tiny young face twisted into an honestly shocking amount of anger and agression. His hackles rose and his fins stood at full attention.

"Where am I?! What have you done to me?! Return me to my original form or perish!" Damian spat out in hissed clicks and chirps. Despite the situation, Danny finds himself thinking he had to be really upset if he didn't even notice the change in voice.

"Answer me!" Damian hiss and bared his teeth. Danny gulped, which was difficult considering the tiny hands vice-gripping his neck. Suddenly he realised he'd never had to comfort a newly-turned before.

"H-hey hey hey now, there's no need to get all murderous over here!" That was the wrong thing to say, because suddenly there was a katana straight for his neck. "Where did you get that?!"

"From my clothes, you buffon, the clothes that you violently relieved me off. What other untoward things have you done with my body? Speak!"

"Look I didn't do anything untoward to your body I swear! I was trying to save you!"

"You mutilated me! You kidnapped me and drowned me and now you clain innocence with nothing to prove such a notion!" Damian's grip wavered for a moment, and Danny realised something. This kid was probalby scared out of his life, and his shouting wasn't helping anything. The smaller boy's gills flapped open. His breathing laboured, heavily.

"You need water. You're not gonna survive long.

"I can kill you long before that point." Gently, Danny picked the child up by the waist, his arms far outreaching the boy's tiny limbs. "Unhand my you psychotic murdering wretch!"

Horns blared in the distance. Damian's body seized up, his ear fins curling in on themselves in Danny's peripheral vision. "They've caught up to us."

"Good, now it means you can be put to justice and I reunited with my father."

Danny coiled his tail and pulled Damian against his chest, against the boy's protests. "The only thing they're gonna unite you with is a scalpel."

"I said unhand me!"

"No time!" Danny uncoiled like a spring and shot into the water. GiW agents shouted above the surface. Danny held him tight against his body. Motors roared into action and echoed through the water. Sonars rang in his ears. But they could never catch up to even a teenage siren.

Pain rocked up his arm. Danny loosed his grip, and Damian slipped out. After floundering for just a few seconds, Damian righted himself and bolted for the ships. The speed at which he made for the freaking GiW shocked Danny. This kid was a human less than an hour ago!

Shit. "Where the heck are you going?!" Danny shouted. He wasted precious seconds turning around and doubling back. "They're not gonna help you Damian!"

"You cannot fool me with your temptations, siren!" Daman spat out. Then he did the absolute worst thing. He surfaced.

Danny's heart sank again. No, no, not again. He pushed through as fast as he could. Damian shouted something above the water. An agent in cold sunglasses aimed a gun at him.

Damian seemed to realise his mistake. He tried to evade the attack, but his strange body just left him rolling over in place.

Danny's eyes glowed blue. Seawater froze into ice in his hands, and he tossed the spear over water. The spear landed an inch away from where the agent was standing. In his shock, he lowered his gun. Danny shot forward. He grabbed Damian's hand and pulled him away. Harpoons flew into the water. Danny ducked and weaved through all of them and full speed. Soon they were far behind the horizon.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #damian wayne #merman #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid transformation #mer au #mermaid au #transformation #angst #argument #accusations of rape #canon typical violence #damian is having a bad time #de-aging #deaging #did you know that Damian was aged up by 4 years by the chaos shard? #neither did i! #no beta we die like damian and danny #i hope u like <3 #i am just a silly amateur with mer obsession #we call them sirens here

[awkwardgtace]

A Change Of Pace

So Originally I wasn't gonna do Kaijune cause I'm super busy for like the rest of the month. But an amazing friend asked me and I was like hmmm is there anything short I could do and wellllll here we are!

(for the record i do have kaiju ash planned for gt july :D )

A Change Of Pace

Daily life had grown monotonous. Wake up, go to work, go home, go to sleep. Repeat. You almost hoped for a change. It wasn’t likely to happen, but at least you weren’t alone. You lived in an apartment with a wall of windows facing the docks. A close friend, Chris, had been with you for years. It was nice to rarely come home to an empty apartment.

Tonight was one of those rare nights. The lights were off as you walked in. That meant they weren’t home. You could have used their warm smile today. Work had been stressful and they were always comforting.

Without their presence you walked through the dark room slowly. You grabbed the remote, turning on the TV so they would know you were there, then collapsed on the couch. Keeping your eyes closed you listened to the pointless commercials as you tried to relax. No matter how tired you were, it was always hard to sleep in the apartment when you knew you were alone.

“There was an accident at the docks today. So far no casualties were reported, but all the staff for the companies using it have been kept to clear up the mess.”

Well that told you where Chris was. A late night at work on the docks. It would probably mean you were alone all night. A siren blared from the place they must be. You curled up trying not to think about how late their night would go… or how silent the apartment would feel without them.

Rhythmic thumping sounded from the direction of the docks. A sound you could almost equate to footsteps. It had to be the fatigue hitting you. The thumping was too loud to be someone’s steps. Plus you lived on the top floor. You moved to lie on your side, curling into a tight ball. The sounds continued. A siren blaring, followed by a thump.

The noise only grew louder. Cars screeching from speeding turns. A crash and police sirens. Of course the night you were alone the noise would be the worst. The silence in your apartment was painful, even the muffled words of the news casters were no help. You bit back a groan as another screeching car drove by your old building.

Chris chose this place. They wanted you to be able to see them if they worked late. It wasn’t possible to do from here. It was too high and the nights too dark. The idea at least helped calm you on the nights you felt the worst without them. More thumps, faster than the siren took to blare again. It was closer to someone running. Probably some weird piece of equipment used at the docks.

The noise of the night continued. Cars speeding. Horns honking. Screeches from a rushed turn. Police sirens. The dock sirens. Thump, thump, thump, thump. The strangely rhythmic thumps were easing your tired body. The empty words of the news. A commercial for some product you would never need or want. Then a change that jolted you out of your trance. A new set of blaring alarms, one in your building the other from the TV.

“This is an emergency alert. Something has been spotted near the docks. It is hard to describe. Towering taller than most buildings. The steps have been felt throughout the city. A number of people have already begun to evacuate. Please, to avoid panic, remain in your homes. Do not turn on any lights and make sure to-”

The broadcast cut out. You opened your eyes to face the cloth back of your couch. The blaring alarms continued. The cars screeched. The thumps that were too close to footsteps sped up again. You couldn’t believe this was real. Any move you made to escape would be more likely to have you meet this thing. It had to be close if it cut the broadcast to your apartment.

A strange light entered your apartment. It terrified you. Despite your better judgment you rolled onto your feet. Nearby you could see a glowing eye near the window to your room, the place you would normally be. The pupil wasn’t visible to you yet. It was strange that in this whole time you hadn’t realized the thumping was growing closer. Although nothing in your place would give you a sign of that when you’re curled up in a ball on the couch.

The entire world shifted as that eye moved. The being’s light coated the room. A bright neon shade of green. You couldn’t bring yourself to move a muscle as the reptilian pupil dilated. It swept back and forth over your apartment. At this point your only hope was staying still would hide you. The pupil appeared to focus on you before sweeping the room again. A twitch towards you before it was gone. You released the breath you were holding, maybe you were safe.

The relief died as a clawed hand crashed through the glass. A scream left your throat as you started to run. There was glass everywhere, but the hand pulled back. You were shaking as the hand hovered outside your wall of windows. You watched the being shake their hand, the wind from it forcing you to back away. That reminded you that moving was an option.

You stumbled back, slowly gaining the strength to run. The hand stopped shaking and you turned on your heel. You could hear the crash as the hand moved again. You managed to start running, but it was too late. The clawed fingers surrounded you on each side. At least you hoped they were fingers. Fingers could mean it might understand words, it might not hurt you.

Despite that faint hope you kept running. The claws moved closer until the palm slammed into your back. You stumbled a few steps more. The clawed fingers curled around you, trapping you in a cage. They grew closer and closer until you were pressed against the palm of this creature. You struggled against the overwhelming strength.

The hand you were in started to move. You screamed, desperate to get free. The being ignored them if they heard any. If it acted like this cause it saw you, what did it do to Chris? They were working at the dock… They should still be there.

You were pulled out of your apartment. In the cold night air your struggles stopped. You knew how high your building was, you weren’t hoping to die. The light from the being’s eyes washed over you. It blinded you, making it impossible to see their face before they pressed you to their chest. The beat beneath was panicked, at least if the being was human. You almost felt bad for them. 

That bit of pity disappeared almost immediately. The massive being started to walk away, taking you from your monotonous life. As much as you’d begun to hate it, you didn’t want to be taken from the only person that cared about you. The only person you cared about. Tears fell from your eyes as the entire world blew past you.

From the spot they held you, it was easy enough to see the destruction the creature caused. Footsteps of craters that made roads unusable. Crushed cars, cracked rooftops, but not a single building that had significant damage. In fact your apartment might be the only one that was in danger. As you neared the docks, the lack of damage changed.

The ships were crushed. The actual piers were ruined. People were crowded away from where the craters of footsteps were left. The hand pressing you against them shifted until your view was blocked. You wouldn’t be able to see Chris... Your friend... Your family.

The crash of their weight hitting the water terrified you. Their hold was gentle. It didn’t match the destruction each step left behind. You had no idea what would come next. The water was all you heard besides their heart. The pounding next to you started to relax. Calming enough to sound like a normal person’s heart.

As much as you hated it, the warmth and beating of their heart calmed you. It made your eyelids start to droop. It sort of reminded you of the times Chris helped you calm down. Letting you listen to their heartbeat until you fell asleep. Whenever you were at their worst, the anxiety a pain too immense. You hoped they’d be ok. That they would survive the visit of this creature.

The next thing you knew clawed fingers were pressing you against a rough palm again. You were pulled through the air and set down on an open palm. All you could do is stare up at the creature who took you. Eyes glowing with a neon green and looking at you with… concern. Now you could sort of make out their face; it was sort of familiar. That familiarity couldn’t be real.

“You ok?” they asked. Their voice was monstrous. A growl on top of a growl. Except you recognized the hint of a human voice in it. You had been positive that you’d never hear it again.

“I-is it really you, Chris?” you whispered. A nod of the massive head. They had a coating of scales instead of skin. Reptilian eyes staring down with a light that was far less harsh than before. Almost warm. “How… what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me instead of grabbing me?”

“Heard talking. Hurt me. Hurt you. Had to act.” Chris’s words sounded wrong. As though it was a struggle to make the words come out. “Words… hard. Can’t… make…”

“It’s hard to talk?” They nodded. “But you heard someone talking?” Another nod. “And they were going to hurt us both?” Another nod. “But-but why?

A growl came from them instead of words. A loud thumping came from behind them. You tried to look around, they moved you in the direction you tilted your head. Chris had a tail now, a long tail that stretched dozens of feet behind them. That thumping might have been most of what you heard the night before.

“Is it… because of what did this to you?” you asked. They moved you back to their eyes and nodded. A stiff, strong nod. The wind from the movement pushed you back on their hand just a bit. “Then… then you can’t go back to normal?”

“Don’t… know,” they said. There was a sound of pain in their voice. You were all they had. They were all you had. Your lives were tied together.

“What happens next?” A bit of fear was stuck in your heart. Whoever wanted them dead wanted you dead. It had to be some big company that wanted it. You couldn’t go back to your monotonous daily life. Did you even want that? Especially without them? What if they didn’t want you to stay? What if… what if they were going to just put you somewhere and hope for the best? You’d be a burden on them now.

“Stay together?” 

The growl on top of a growl sounded terrified. You could say no. They’d try to find a way to save you. It was clear that would happen. Even like this, when you’d be something they had to take care of, they wanted you to be there. You nodded. That was all they needed to pull you close into a hug. Their heart pounded deafeningly below their chest of scaled skin.

Together the two of you would survive this strange change of pace. Together you could face the world.

#gt #giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community #kaijune #short self insert thing i thought of yesterday #please enjoy my random brain ramblings <3

[alltoowelltom]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince [part four]

tom holland x actress!reader

series summary: when you're called in to fake date tom holland for two months to fix his public image, you never expect anything to blossom between the two of you...

+ series masterlist

☆°・ chapter four ・°☆

The next month and a half passes by in a whirlwind of dates and public appearances with Tom. Despite your best judgement, you can’t help but curl into his side whenever he wraps his arm around you in a big crowd or subtly lean into what he’s saying at a restaurant. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you’re definitely falling for Tom.

Tom honked the horn when he was outside your apartment and you checked over your outfit one last time before running out the door. You slip into the passenger seat, blinking when Tom leans over to kiss your cheek. 

“Tom? What-”

“Y/N, meet the twins,” he says quickly, reminding you that you’re not alone. “You don’t know what kind of sacrifices I had to make to get them to sit in the back so you could have shotgun.”

“Oh, hey guys!” you twist around in your seat to smile at them. “Wow. You definitely are twins.” you say before you can stop yourself. 

Sam snorts. 

“You got yourself a smart one here, Tom.”

Tom flips his brother off and rests his hand on your thigh, as if to apologise for his div brothers. If you’d felt a few stray butterflies when you and Tom met, there was an entire ecosystem of butterflies in there now. He does it so casually, but if you looked closer you’d see the tips of his ears flushed bright red under his hair as he gauged your reaction. 

“Right, you’re up now Y/N.” said Harry as he returned to the group after his turn. “You can’t put it off any longer.”

You sigh. 

“I’ve literally never played before,” you give a general disclaimer as you take the club Tom held out for you. 

You line yourself up near the ball and squint into the distance. You can’t even see where the hell this ball is meant to end up. 

“So I just kind of whack it in that general direction?” you ask. 

“Hold up,” Tom jogs over to you. “Let me give you a hand?”

You nod gratefully. 

Tom stands behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you to grip the club over your hands. He rests his head right over your right shoulder. 

“Right, bend your knees slightly love…yeah, that’s it.” 

He presses his knees into yours to show you how much to bend them and you breathe in sharply as you can feel all of him pressed up against you. 

“We’re going to do a practice swing, okay? So back like this…and then you’re gonna just bring it smoothly through,” he helps you practice. “Ready?”

You nod. 

“He definitely did not teach me this thoroughly,” Sam whispers to Harry. 

Tom tightens his grip on your hands and gently helps you swing your body back, then together you swing the club cleanly through the ball. He twists you slightly past your original position, pressing his right knee into the back of yours as the ball sails through the air. 

“Look at it go!” you giggle and Tom cheers, wrapping you in a tight hug. 

“You did so good, love!”

Tom takes the club from you gently, resting his hands on top of it behind your back. He smiles at you and leans in ever so slightly, his eyes fluttering closed-

Ahem. Sam and Harry clear their throats simultaneously, and you and Tom jump away from each other. 

“Uhm-” you stutter. “Did we say we were gonna go get some lunch?”

“Yeah!” Tom agrees. “We were gonna go get some lunch. Let’s go get some lunch.” 

He turns away from you and deposits the club back in its bag. 

“Coming, you lot?”

Despite your awkward almost-kiss with Tom, he’s back to normal during lunch. You and Sam sit on one side of the table in a booth, with Tom and Harry sitting across from you in chairs. You and Tom find your legs entangling under the table and sharing giggly, flirty glances as the twins do their best to mortify Tom, sharing embarrassing childhood stories. 

“Y/N, you’re definitely gonna have to come visit London so we can go golfing again when Tom comes home,” Harry laughs, wiping a stray tear of laughter away. 

You blink. 

“You’re going home?” you ask Tom. “When?”

Tom pales, mentally slapping Harry for spilling. Although to be fair, Harry had no way to know that Tom wouldn’t have told you, being his ‘girlfriend’ and all. 

“Uh, I mean, at the end of November, so, next week.” he admits. 

“Next week?!” you shriek, blushing as you realise how loud you’re being. “You’re leaving next week and you didn’t even tell me?” 

“Hold on,” says Sam. “You didn’t know that Tom was coming home with us next week?”

You feel as though the room is spinning as you get up from the table, ignoring the boys’ calls to come back. 

“I have to go,” you say helplessly. “I’ll get an Uber, I just don’t wanna be around you right now.”

The last thing you see is the stricken look on Tom’s face as you leave the restaurant, pulling out your phone to call an Uber through a wave of tears. 

liked by florencepugh, tuwaine, arianagrande and others

y/ninstagram☑️: hole in one ⛳️

hazosterfield☑️: i feel like this is sexual i just don't know how

ynswife22: ok yn i get it now 😩

tomholland2013☑️: 😏

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

tysm for reading! please consider reblogging, it really helps a writer out <3

series taglist: @scenesofobx @lnmp89 @mayal0pez @alisslahey @nahhcuhh @youcantseem3 @theekyliepage @racavalier @wh0reforbucknasty @moniffazictress11 @st3rgirl @liltimmyst @fangirling-galore @katknip @hackerholland

#tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland series #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smau #tom holland angst #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x female reader

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Spectra Redesign Discussion🕷

     For Spectras design, I made quite a few changes to help hyped up the psychological horror factor. Especially with implanting the spider theme.

Human Disguise:

Made her spider themed. Went for a subtle touch, as she’s known for her ability to deceive and entrap people🕷

Changed her horned hair into a bun for the spider aesthetic with some curls at the end for old design reference. Also added a silver streak at her front. She also has knitting needles tucked into her bun as she does a lot of textile such as knitting.

Changed her black shades and gave her glasses with( three dots in the corners to foreshadow her extra eyes).

Put her in deeper reds❤️

Made her eyes a darker green💚

Made her purplish pink lipstick, red and black❤️🖤

OG Color Scheme- Orange, reddish orange, red, white, black, purple, green.

My Color Scheme- Orange, reddish orange, red, dark red, black, gray, dark green, skin color

Replaced her white collar and tie for v-neck sweater and necklace with the black widow spiders symbol(the type of spider she’s symbolizing). I also added special web stitching on it to mimic web lines.

Added a waist wrap. It was inspired from a suggestion from @tachvintlogic​ about showing her body like a spider’s body, that tightness between the top and the abdomen. I’m not the biggest spider expert.

Changed her round purple earrings to silver triangle ones, like how a widow’s mark looks half. Also concealed any showing of ears👂

Replaced her skirt with long pants.

Gave her black nail polish with red sheen.

Made her heels black with red sheen. Also gave her gray leggings.

Gave her a name tag.

Got rid of the purple💜

Also I’m gonna be honest, I wasn’t originally going with a Coraline Other Mother reference, until people pointed it out and it made me realize the similarities. Her disguise has certain traits to Other Mother’s Disguise as Mel, Coraline’s mom.

Spectras Ghost Form:

    For her ghost form, I went REALLY BIG for here.

Biggest change. Made her a spider spectre. Heavily inspired by Coraline’s Other Mother. I also wanted her design to have similar elements to her disguise.

Made her body shaped like a black widow’s mark.

Gave her pupils, which are also shaped like black widow marks. Also gave her mini extra eyes, being a spider and all🕷

Gave her a dress, made of her own webbed silk. For the collar, I was def inspired by Other Mother’s second form version, it just looks so cool and scary.

Removed her lipstick.

Made her teeth green with fangs💚 For the ghostly green and with her design having more whites and grays, thought it’d help them stand out more.

Added more sharpness for the fear factor. Added a lot of points.

Added sharp points on her neck. Other Mother had a bare skeletal neck and I wanted to give off that, plus for the scary sharp spider aesthetic.

Gave her long sharp red fingernails. To make them strike out more, especially when she goes in for an attack.

Gave her hair, separating from her head, also made up of webbing. I designed it like Other Mother’s with white streaks separating different shades. In her disguise she has red and orange reddish shades in her hair and I wanted to keep that.

Gave her extra arms cause she’s a spider🕷

OG Color Scheme- Black, red, blue, purple and white.

My Color Scheme- Black, red, gray, white and green.

There’s a lot to say about Spectras redesign. I worked pretty long and hard on it and overall I’m proud of the results.

What do u think? I’d love to know💖

#Danny phantom #spectra #penelope spectra #dp spectra #dp redesign #character design #phanart #danny phantom fanart #other mother #coraline

[batwritings]

YES THE DEMON SCHLATT!>=3🐞

*kicks down the door* I'M SORRY I'M LATE BUT HI I'M FINALLY GETTING TO THIS!!! Here's the original post with 🐞's wonderful idea!!>> link Enjoy~!

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

You sigh as another drunk patron stumbles from the casino, trying to find their way home. You'd been watching human after human lose their way from the building's rooftops for hours now, knowing your influence was losing out here. The soft breeze behind you gave way to the creature causing it.

"You know you can't win here princess," the demon chuckled from behind. You rolled your eyes and stood to greet him. Golden eyes were practically gleaming at you and your worn out expression.

"What do you want this time Schlatt?" you grumbled, crossing your arms defiantly. You were trying to hide the fact that, over the time you and this goat demon had been crossing paths, you'd gone from dreading his very existence, to anticipating his teasing remarks and flirtations. Not very angelic, and Schlatt knew it.

The demon smirks and starts to approach you, circling you like a lion would it's prey. "Aw what's the matter angel?" He hums, hand on your lower back, sliding up between your wings. A shudder runs down your back as his gruff voice meets your ears again. "Feeling a little...sinful?"

"Please..." you mumble, barely above a whisper. Schlatt has you pinned to roof of the casino in an instant, lips on yours as his hands roam your body. You thread yours through his messy wavy locks, gripping tight to his curled horns.

"Waited too long for this," the demon mumbles as he slides his hand down your thighs then up to your sex, pushing your angelic garb out of the way haphazardly. "Goddamn...if I'd known you wanted me this bad I would have made a move a long time ago."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. The teasing had been last months now, and your angelic status be damned, you needed this release.

"Your wish is my command," Schlatt chuckles as he pumps a finger into your aching hole. "Fuck you're so wet." He fucks you open with one finger, then two, then three. All the while leaving sloppy, open mouth kisses and licks along your clit.

Only when he feels you're ready does he pull himself free, hard member on display before lining up with you. "You're gonna wish you never got turned into an angel," he smirks before sliding in. It doesn't take long for the harsh burn to turn into pleasure for you, what with the demon spouting how good you feel left and right and how pretty you look underneath him like this.

It's only when he touches your wings as he's readjusting to start thrusting that a burst of pleasure slides across your skin and a loud moan. Bright, wide, golden eyes stare down at you in surprise at first before he gives a devilish smirk. "Even your wings defy your true nature," Schlatt huffs, as he starts thrusting in and out of you mercilessly.

You're so lost in the pleasure coursing through your every fiber with every touch along your skin, every stroke of your wings, every sinful word that falls from his lips that you hardly notice your orgasm creep up on you. It hits you like a freight train, Schlatt's cock seemingly hitting every pleasure center in your very core. His rough pace quickly becomes uncoordinated with your velvety walls clenching around him. His head knocks against you as he spills inside, painting your walls white.

Pants and huffs mingle with each other as you each come down from your highs. Rough kisses that leave burns in their wake from his facial hair trail down your neck. "Sch-Schlatt?" you whimper softly, curious of his intent.

His bright eyes glow down at you with devious intent. "I'm gonna make you mine tonight angel."

#bat writes #anon reqs #🐞anon #mcyt smut #schlatt smut

[realcube]

CELEBRATING YOUR BIRTHDAY 

characters ♡ bokuto, tendō, matsukawa & suna

tw ♡ gn! reader, timeskip! bokuto (all sfw tho), swearing, reader wears makeup (matsukawa), swearing, mentions of death & food 

cred ♡ thanks to anon for this request <3

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO

♡ he was literally counting down the days to your birthday, he even took the day off practise to celebrate it with you so imagine his surprise when the special day finally rolls around and he wakes up to an empty bed

♡ at first, he thought that perhaps you were just around the house somewhere but nope, the place was completely empty and even worse, all signs pointed to his theory that you had gone to work/school on your birthday 

♡ outraged. he was absolutely outraged. 

♡ firstly, he tried calling you but you wouldn’t pick up, even after his many attempts so his next resort to call your place of work/school reception 

♡ obviously he managed to get a hold of you then-

♡ he was originally gonna yell about how you lied to him about taking the day off on your birthday but there was no way he could be angry at you — almost ever — so instead, he made the quick decision of telling you to have a nice day before hanging up 

♡ you were kinda pissed that he wasted your time like that but how could you stay mad at him? he’s fkn adorable! he blew you audible kisses over the phone for good luck!

♡ you laboured your way through the day, putting in great effort yet through it all, the only thing on your mind was how much you wanted to just pass out on the couch with bokuto as soon as you got home. you weren’t even sure if you had the energy to change into your pjyamas.

♡ however, when you finally did arrive home, there was no need to put yourself through the onerous task of changing clothes as the first thing you were greeted by when you stepped foot in your own home was a chorus of cheers of ‘surprise!’ followed by people spilling out into the foyer from the kitchen and living room 

♡ then there was bokuto, the loudest of them all leading the crowd, blowing into the party horn while dashing up to, throwing his arms around your shoulders to pull you into a tight hug, ‘happy birthday, sweetie!’

♡ a light gasp escaped your lips at the sudden hoots, and the unfamiliar — and frankly uncomfortable — sight of many friends swarm towards you had you on edge but when you felt bokuto wrap you in his warm embrace, you knew you were home

♡ he held you close until you were forced apart by many guests tearing you away to personally wish you a happy birthday

♡ now that the initial shock had died down, you noticed that there wasn’t as many people present as you thought, it was a humble gathering of all your closest friends 

♡ there was a massive pile of bright-colored gifts lying on the stairs, and it was hard not to immediately acknowledge them as the sheer mass and number of the presents scattered across the steps prevented anyone from being able to go upstairs

♡ the following day, you were made aware of the fact 90% of those presents were addressed from ‘your best ace husband ;)’ which was pretty straight-forward considering you only have one husband; kiyoomi sakusa. 

♡ jokes, you married bokuto but sakusa was also at the party. he originally just wanted to drop off his gift then leave but bokuto persuaded him to stay, though he seemed to be regretting it now as almost everyone at the party now shared an unspoken goal to slam sakusa’s face into one of the cupcakes that decorated the circumference of your cake

♡ speaking of the cake, bokuto remembered what type of cake was your favorite from the wedding planning and he was so chuffed with himself. in fact, he was so confident in his cake picking ability that he ordered a massive 3-tier monster of a dessert 

♡ neither of you would be able to finish it before it goes bad so you ended up cutting it up into pieces  and sending each guest away with a little goody-bag with a slice of cake inside lmao 

♡ once you had finished your goodbyes and everyone had filed out of your home, you flopped onto the couch and let out a deep sigh of relief. well, it was only a sigh for a few moment as it became a wheeze when bokuto laid down on top of you 

♡ ‘happy birthday, (y/n). i’m sorry if i tired you out.’ he hummed, fiddling with your fingers as his lips curled into a shaky smile

♡ ‘i’m a bit sleepy but i had an amazing time. thank you so much, kō.’

♡ bokuto smiled, his heavy lid falling shut as he finally rested his neck, being able to fall asleep comfortably now that you’ve told him that you had fun

SATORI TENDŌ

♡ unlike bokuto, he’ll actually mention your birthday a few weeks prior to the celebration so he can plan the perfect date :3

♡ ‘so do you wanna go to the aquarium or the theme park? because i know we’ve went to the park before but they remodelled it apparently. plus, maybe the aquarium is a bit underwhelming for such a special day, but it’s up to yo--’

♡ ‘we won’t really get to spend much time in either. if you consider the time school finishes, the train ride and the time the aquarium and park closes so maybe we could just chill at my house instead.’

♡ tendō deadpanned for a moment, the most unamused look taking over his features until he suddenly burst out laughing, cackling as if you just told the joke of the century, ‘seriously, (y/n)? you’re gonna go to school on your birthday.’

♡ ‘yes, of course.’ you replied in all seriousness, resulting in tendō awkwardly beginning to stifle his chuckles.

♡ he frowned, slumping back into the seat beside you, ‘c’mon, it’s your birthday, though! you deserve the day off.’

♡ you shook your head, kindly declining his suggestion, ‘i have a test on that day.’

♡ ‘all the more reason to ditch!’

♡ now it was your turn to deadpan

♡ tendō tossed his head back while letting out a sigh  of defeat, draping his arm around your shoulder to lovingly pull you to his chest, ‘alright, then. whatever you want, dear.’

♡ you smiled, glad that you didn’t need to disagree with him any longer — and you were even happier on the day. even though you insisted that he keeps things small on your birthday, he still managed to find a way to make things extra asf by getting you a massive plush that was about half the size of your stature and a hamper of homemade chocolates ><

ISSEI MATSUKAWA 

♡ honestly, he’s never been the best at giving gifts but he tries extra hard for you 

♡ like if you off-handedly say that you are cold during class, he’ll buy you a bunch of new jackets, jumpers and gloves

♡ or if you say you need more mascara, he’ll buy you exact same one you usually wear 

♡ he’s observant enough to notice and remember the exact shade and brands of all your cosmetic products but he’s not observant enough to pick up on the subtle hints you drop as to what you want for your birthday 

♡ you can never guess what he’s gonna get you and that adds to your anticipation for the day 

♡ if your birthday is on a school day, he’ll bring in a batch of homemade cupcakes (which hanamaki helped him with) and stick a candle in one of them for you to blow out 

♡ he offers you one but they are all pretty stale- just smile and nod while your teeth feel like they are being shattered trying to bite down on the cupcake 

♡ it might set off the fire alarm but oh well, just count that as another present

♡ oikawa will probably get you something like a bouquet and try flirt with you so at that point, matsukawa and hanamaki begin using the cupcakes as weapons 

♡ they are a two for one deal so you’re going to be spending the day with both of them tailing you like lost puppies

platonic RINTARŌ SUNA

♡ (requester specified) your birthday is on the same day as his so ofc he’s going to be a little salty abt it 

♡ you both created a game to see who receives the most birthday wishes and whoever won gets ¥1500 from the loser’s birthday money

♡ for the past few years, he’s usually been the winner by just a few but this year, you made it a point to befriend all him teammates in order to ensure victory 

♡ having to pretend to be friendly with atsumu — who wasn’t very good at hiding his massive crush —was definitely a challenge but you powered through 

♡ in fact, you may have played the role too well as both the miya twins gave you a gift 

♡ osamu gave both you and suna a plastic bag filled with some food he made and water bottles

♡ as for atsumu, his gift to you was a massive hamper filled with an assortment of many different luxury confectionary which didn’t look cheap at all but it didn’t feel appropriate to question the price so you simply took it from him with a bright smile

♡ of course, suna was excited (and very hungry) as he expected the same gift but he was more than disappointed when all he received was a bag of chips and a slap on the back

♡ he goes out of his way to tell every teacher it’s your birthday in hopes that they’ll make the class sing happy birthday to you 

♡ but it pisses him off to no end when you add that it’s his birthday too so he ends up getting roped into your misery 

♡ also your thumbs are going to be sore at night swiping through all the various candid pics that suna took of you throughout the day (in less than flattering poses) which he uplaoded to almost all of his social media stories with stupid ass captions 

♡ but dw bc he’ll eventually post a nice photo of you with a sweet message

♡ ‘happy birthday to @(y/n) . i would die for you, bitch (even though you annoy the hell out of me every single day 🤠).’ 

#bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #suna rintaro scenarios #hq matsukawa #tendou satori #tendou scenario #tendou headcanon #hq tendou #tendou fluff #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x y/n #matsukawa headcanons #hq x gender neutral reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro fluff #suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna imagines

[mattzerella-sticks]

metamorphosis

Chapter 1 (ao3)

Prologue (ao3) (tumblr)

What if, when Jack was born, he stayed a baby?

A retelling of season 13, with a few key differences.

No planned schedule, will update when I finish chapters lol

Chapter 1 - Dean I

           “Cas?”

           Dean waited, watching Cas’s lips. He waited for his name to be spoken, said in that same mixture of fondness and exasperation and gravel that ticked the tempo of his heart up a notch. He waited for his angel to smile, then tell Dean that he’s fine; that it wasn’t more than a scratch, that he’s still here.

           Any minute now.

           “…Cas?” Dean’s voice sounded scratchy, raw, like a needle ripped through a spinning record. He blinked back his tears, embarrassed, because Cas might wake soon and see him break, see him not be strong enough. His gaze broke from Cas’s bluing lips, staring at the starless sky above. He saw night begin its transition to early morning, a sun sliver dipping into the horizon, and wondered how long Cas will play with him like this. How long will Cas pretend to lie there? How long will Cas insist that he’s –

           “Cas!” Even with the extra help from gravity, Dean couldn’t stop the pinprick tears tracing their way down to his ears, wetness setting his skin aflame. He choked on a sob, the rubber band of his body snapping and recoiling into itself. His shoulders shook. He squeezed tight to his stomach. Dean closed his eyes, but inside that shuttered darkness was Cas, emerging from the portal. Cas with the blade in his hand. Cas with a blade, poking out his chest. “Oh… oh, God…”

           He’s really gone. He’s gone and Dean hurt. Dean hurt so much.

           Dean cracked one eye open, then another. In his periphery, he saw the tips of Cas’s limp fingers lying in the dirt along with the rest of his body.

           It was something he has wanted to do for some time now. Dean noticed what happens halfway into its journey, his trembling hand hovering over Cas’s. He lowered it cautiously. When there’s barely an inch of space separating his middle finger from Cas’s knuckles, Dean stopped. Dean couldn’t close that final gap. He stared at the emptiness between them, small but terrifyingly infinite, and was frozen in terror.

           “Dean!”

           Sam’s call stirred him from that horrid trance, urgency reminding Dean of all else that happened. Of Crowley’s sacrifice, of the portal closing, of mom on the other side; those events crashed into him like a terrible wave, washing him out into a roaring sea that denied him any sense or reason. Standing, legs ready to give out on him at any moment, Dean stumbled towards where he last heard his brother.

           He forgot about the steps. Sam caught him, guiding him past the threshold and into the cabin with lumbering haste. Dean’s vision returned to him soon, though. He drew Sam further to his side, for a loose hug, then shoved his brother’s oafish frame off of him. Dean supported himself using the wall instead. “What?” he asked, growling, “What is it?”

           Sam tried to speak but got cutoff by a shrill cry coming from another room. Sam shrugged, jerking his head to where, Dean guesses, the crying originated. He’d also take a stab at who’s responsible for crying, too.

           Kelly’s son. Lucifer’s son. The whole damned reason Dean’s life lay shattered in the clearing out back.

           Hearing those whines and sobs rattle the cabin’s chilly silence helped harden what remained of his heart, enough so that the baby’s shrieking echoed in the hollow chambers of Dean’s chest. It made what he must ask next much easier. “You didn’t kill him yet?”

           Sam visibly startled, jaw clenched that familiar way Dean knows meant an argument brewed within; his brother’s puppy dog features deceived, hiding his true feelings. Again, as Sam readied to speak, the baby took his cue and interrupted with a damning wail. Sam pressed his lips into a thin, mangled line while he waited his turn.

           A minute passed, and it’s doubtful the little guy would lose steam soon. Dean sighed. He pushed off the wall, passing Sam as he followed the noisy little bastard. Sam stayed right behind him, heavy footsteps and chiding tone mixing with the crying to shred Dean’s nerves into oblivion. “You are not doing this, Dean,” Sam hissed, tugging on his elbow, “we need to talk about it first –“

           “Who can talk over all this racket!” He wrenched his arm free, storming into the baby’s nursery while Sam dawdled under the doorframe. Their entrance meant little to the newborn, who continued crying despite their entrance. “And I’m not killing him –“ he kept his yet stored in the barrel of his mouth, unfired, conscious of how it will be received in the moment – “gonna shut him up for a while, s’all…” Dean punctuated his claim by grabbing the baby, Jack if the painted name on the crib meant anything, and tucking him into the crook of his arm. He bounced him like he did Sam decades ago, like he would for any normal baby, cooing sweet nothing that tumbled out of him as if they were sand in a broken hourglass, shards mixed within. Dean spied a rocking chair in the corner and, with Sam’s piercing gaze studying him, Dean collapsed into it.

           That seemed to work. Dean’s gentle rocking, paired with a hummed lullaby cherrypicked from his past, put the hellion in his arms at ease. Jack stared up, transfixed by what Dean guessed is the tall lamp casting a gentle glow on them both; a lamp Sam, now in the room and by his side, flicked on after Dean sat down. It must be the center of his focus, because Dean wouldn’t believe the baby looked at him like he did; like he’s a bright and beautiful thing, deserving of attention, of being the center of his known universe. He didn’t want that, especially from him.

           Dean swallowed a curse and ended their contest, sure if he looked into the baby’s eyes any longer, he would damn the consequences and wring the life from this tiny body nestled in his hands. He waited for Jack’s fit to tamper lower and lower, rising only after a moment of uninterrupted silence. Dean carried Jack back, returning him to his crib. He added another mistake into the column of ever-increasing errors and glanced at Lucifer’s kid a final time. He examined him, searching for little horns or a tail or tattoos of sixes; he found nothing. Nothing that proved he’s more than a child, innocent and carefree.

           Sam hung by his shoulder, buzzing halo bothersome in Dean’s ear. “I think he likes you.”

           Dean huffed under breath, “I wish I could say the same.”

           He left. Sam trailed in his wake; tread heavy from being constipated with a smug righteousness Dean dreaded will be shat all over him when Sam had the chance. He was silent until the kitchen, then Sam struck. “His mother just died, Dean.”

           Dean shrugged, “So did ours.” He expected that to feel weird saying, but it hadn’t. Sam gaped at him, like it had. Maybe Dean’s in shock. Maybe he was too used to having a dead mom. Dean carried on regardless. “If you think a sob story’s gonna convince me of anything, try hitting me when the kids got enough pages to fill a book larger than Moby Dick’s, or ours. Right now, he’s a table of contents and not much else.”

           “Exactly,” Sam needled, poking Dean’s chest. Dean swat him away with the refrigerator door, creating a makeshift barrier to protect himself from Sam’s crusade. He dug around for something to drink, something boozy, as Sam prattled. “Look, Dean, we… I know our thing is – our thing is killing monsters but, Dean, he’s a baby. He – he didn’t do anything –“

           “He was conceived,” Dean said, “that’s enough for me.” His groping fingers pushed aside the carton of milk for a third time; he still couldn’t find the beer.

           “That wasn’t his fault.” Sam rested his hand over Dean’s where it rested on the refrigerator door, pleading for Dean to look at him by touch alone. Dean relented, darting his eyes for a fleeting glance. Sam’s brows were drawn in like a steep hill, and he appeared absolutely ghastly because of the refrigerator’s light. Dean fell back to his mission. “Lucifer… he set this in motion, and we’ve dealt with him.”

           “And what did it cost us?”

           Sam sighed. “Everyone we lost knew what this was about,” he told Dean, “knew how it might end. They were ready to risk their lives for this.”

           “We were here to take down Lucifer, end of story,” Dean spat, knocking items onto the floor in his fervor. He tore through like a whirlwind, throwing food everywhere. Eggs, lettuce, ketchup and pickles – no beer though. Dammit. “And with the kid kicking, we haven’t even finished our mission.”

           “Jack is not Lucifer!” Sam squeezed Dean’s wrist, begging for more attention. Dean’s spiteful, rigid glare burned a hole in the back of the fridge. He refused to move even an inch. “He’s a baby, and we… we kill monsters. We kill the ones who have no chance of being saved. He was just born, Dean. He had no choice in that.”

           “Who’s to say that he won’t choose to be a monster, once he’s old enough?”

           Sam strangled his wrist, now, Dean’s fingers numbing because of his brother’s impassioned grip. “We’ll make sure. We’ll raise him right.”

           This drew Dean out of the refrigerator. “We?” he laughed, bitterness churning in his gut. “We, really? You think…” Dean didn’t finish, speechless at the insanity Sam presented. He and Sam, raising Lucifer’s kid? He and Sam, sheltering the baby who ruined their lives? He and Sam… “I hate to break it to you, Sammy,” he continued, his voice returning, “but this ain’t the nineties. We can’t have it all, clearly. And we are not taking that kid in like some muddy stray.”

           “Cas wanted to raise him.”

           Dean gagged. The toxic rush of seconds ago disappeared, spilling out from the seam Sam pulled loose.

           Sam, at least, was aware enough to briefly mime an apology. His face contorted into a pained expression, exaggerated to better mangle his earlier fury. However, that’s smoothed and replaced with sterner features as he detached himself from his words, and the ugliness that they inspired. He stood tall, committed to the outburst, and from the curl of his scowl, Dean wouldn’t expect him to take back what’s been said. It will linger like the other ghosts.

           If that was how he wanted to do this.

           “Sure,” Dean agreed, “and that got him what, exactly?” He slammed the refrigerator door, startling both of them and the baby. Jack’s wailing picked up where he left off, although sharper and more annoying. Dean pushed into Sam, instinct urging him to soothe like he did earlier. Dean stopped himself, hesitating. He spun on his heel, leaving where he came in.

           Sam shouted, “You can’t just run away Dean!”

           “I’m getting some air, is all!” he yelled back, ripping the door off its hinges in his haste to leave.

           A terrifying gust rammed into him almost immediately, giving him the very air he craved. Then, a second wind blows in the opposite direction; stealing his breath as his gaze landed on the body of his angel, immobile, with black skid marks in a shoddy recreation of what might be wings splayed beside him like oddly bent branches. Dean blindly descended, too focused with Cas’s form than the stairs. When his feet reached solid, uneven ground, Dean slowed to a glacial pace. Cas didn’t react.

           Dean tried not to, too. Hand at his cheek, wiping some more stray tears, Dean failed.

           He ripped himself away, jogging from the backyard space towards the front where his true escape was. Dean white knuckled his keys, jagged teeth biting into the palm of his hand. Pain kept him from spiraling, from thinking, from staying there. And when he couldn’t use pain, key nestled in the ignition instead of his hand, Dean had the next best thing – open roads.

           The engine roared, overpowering the blood rushing past his ears. Dean demolished the speed limit easily, bulleting across the asphalt, pedal his trigger. It’s early enough he needn’t worry about highway patrolmen or wayward pedestrians. He drove fast, loose, and recklessly. Fuck Vin Diesel, Dean thought. Vin had nothing on him.

           Kelly’s cabin was a blurry spot in his rearview mirror, a speck he might scratch off with his nail if he pleased. Trees became indistinguishable from each other. Not that it mattered, Dean’s tunnel vision blocking his periphery. His eyes remained fixed ahead of him, uncharacteristically so. It took most his focus to keep like that, hands cramping on the wheel from throttling it. He counted dash after dash and tallied potholes as he hit them, stuffing his mind with senseless figures other than the lone one he abandoned in the field.

           Soon, Dean reached a nearby town. The greenery became sparser, leaves and wood replaced by buildings and city blocks and lampposts and streetlights. He hit his first light, a blip of red flashing for attention. Thoughtlessly, Dean flattened his foot against the brake; Baby’s tires squealing as she fought momentum. Dean knocked against his dashboard from the force, falling back only after his car fully stopped. He couldn’t see the streetlight dangling above. Dean knew he sat over the line, his Baby’s hood hanging in the intersection, asking for an accident.

           A second later, and what he was driving from caught up to him.

           Dean gasped, curling in on himself, hands glued to the wheel. His body seized with sobs that bruise, each tremor punching his gut. He used what little strength he had and glanced at his reflection. That speck on his rearview, that he foolishly clawed at, didn’t disappear; it was caught in his bloodshot eyes.

           He couldn’t continue driving like this.

           Red light, green light, it didn’t matter now. Dean crawled along to the nearest lot that belonged to a tacky chain eatery. Parking inside, Dean threw his car door open and spilled free of his Baby. He fell to his knees, hissing, denim ripping on impact and gravel scratching his skin. Dean staggered to his feet. Blood trickled down his leg from the open wound on his knee. He walked forward, dazed, while Baby idled at an angle, keys trapped in her ignition. If it were later in the day, someone might steal her. If Dean were acting like himself, he might care.

           He didn’t go far. Dean slowed as he approached the fast-food joint, stopping inches from the backdoor. His bottom lip wobbled, Dean raking his hair with twitching fingers. He stared at the door, at the wooden sign hanging by a single, rusted nail. It depicted a stereotypical pirate, with hat, beard, and eyepatch, painted on a blue background and encircled by cartoonish rope that framed this pirate’s face along with an oblong addition underneath of the word ‘BUCCANEERS’. The pirate glared ahead, at some far point, as if Dean weren’t there blocking it.

           But he was. Dean was here, while everyone else – everyone he cared about…

           “Why me?” he muttered, “Why’s it always… why do I have to deal with it, with the after, with picking up the pieces of someone else’s mess.” Dean growled, head bowed, eyes unflinchingly locked with the pirate’s. “Mom… Crowley… Ca” – he stuttered on his name, wounds still too fresh – “you’re gonna bring him back. You’re gonna bring them all back. After everything I’ve done for this shithole, that I’ve been through, it’s the least that I’m owed. I deserve to… I – I don’t deserve this.”

           The pirate ignored his pleas, it couldn’t answer him. And Chuck, apparently, wouldn’t answer him.

           “…Okay.”

           Dean launched himself at the pirate, picturing a brown beard instead of black, and a grayish blue eye where a black one was painted. He smashed it with one punch, face splintering and spraying everywhere. Dean continued wrecking it, nearly destroying the door in his fury. Aiming a final blow, Dean hit the sign off the nail and sent it flying from view.

           Exhausted, knuckles as bloody as his knee, Dean collapsed near the stacked crates and leaning pallets.

           A shudder traveled across his body, from the top of his head, dragged along each vertebra like a sharp, clawed finger, and finally making his legs seize and stretch out in front of him. Dean vacuumed in a deep breath, chest ballooning to contain it. He won’t release it willingly.

           “Dude…”

           Coughing, Dean glanced up at some teenager standing nearby, gaping at the scene. He wore a large brown jacket a shade lighter than his skin over a deep blue polo that matches the visor currently worn like a headband, so his bangs wouldn’t  his face. A ring of keys dangled in his hands. Keys that, Dean guessed, were for opening the very door he pummeled as if it were a punching bag.

           “Hey, man,” the teen asked, glancing between Dean and the wrecked door, “are you… like, good? Do I need to call someone?”

           A repairman. The teen’s manager. Neither would do Dean any good, but both will need to know about the damage he did to the property.

           Dean groaned, climbing to his feet. He swayed with the breeze, a lone willow in this blacktop clearing. Some of the blood from his knuckles drippled like morning dew would off its leaves. He advanced, the teen tensing as he moves closer. Their shoulders brushed, the younger of the two stumbling back a few inches, cowering in Dean’s presence. Dean thought he should say something, let him know there’s nothing to be afraid of.

           That felt like too much of a damned lie, so he caught the words in his throat and swallowed them down.

           He returned to his car, starting it like nothing happened, like his skin hadn’t torn and tears weren’t drying on his cheeks as he refused to wipe them off. Dean tapped the pedal and drove off. He drove the same path he took earlier, only in reverse. He drove to Kelly’s cabin, and all that waited for him there.

           Dean parked sloppily, again; however, pocketing his keys this time as he left Baby. He didn’t acknowledge the front door, shuffling into the backyard for another glimpse of Cas’s body.

           Cas was gone. His wings were still there, and Sam was, too.

           Sam dropped a stack of branches onto a large pile he must have begun gathering after Dean fled. He rubbed at his neck, steadily avoiding where Dean’s gaze was by looking at the pile. “I moved him,” he explained, “I figured we might as well start on the… on the pyres for him, and Kelly.” Sam paused. He grabbed a lone branch, snapping a twig from it. “I didn’t do anything else. Figured you would want to…”

           “Yeah.” Dean blinked, then imagined the shadows burnt into the ground rising and rising, flapping determinately, until they vanished. He blinked. Those wings hadn’t moved an inch.

           Dean headed into the cabin.

           He spied Cas’s body immediately, laid atop the kitchen table. Sam rearranged him during transit, closing his eyes and setting Cas’s arms at his sides. If he weren’t thinking about it constantly, weren’t reminded of Cas’s current state with every beat of his own heart, Dean might believe Cas was asleep. Or, at the very least, imitating it, since angels can’t sleep. They can’t eat. There’s a lot they can’t do. And Cas won’t ever not do any of that, not anymore.

           Sighing, Dean circled the table while tracing the edges of it with his fingertips. He reached the other side, where a gauzy pair of curtains hung. Dean swung his arm outward, going through the motions to free them. It’s quick work.

           Wrapping Cas with these curtains will take a lifetime.

            Dean started by lifting Cas’s head and slipping a strip underneath. He cradled him, unnaturally soft tufts of hair tickling his fingers. Holding Cas in such a manner encouraged further action, tempted Dean to do more. He succumbed to these voices, the fast few hours since they last sung weakened his resolve. Dean ran his bloodied knuckles across Cas’s face. He stained deathly pale skin red. He hissed, stubble like sandpaper against his cuts. He left no wrinkle untouched.

           Finally, Dean switched to his thumb and pressed it just below Cas’s lips.

           It’s maddening, touching Cas like this, like he always wanted. He dreamt of being able to for longer than he could remember. Daydreams and fantasies of Dean, curled into Cas’s side, leisurely and lovingly memorizing every inch of the other’s face. Those moments were always pretend, too human to ever be real, to expect from an angel like Cas. Now, as his thumb swept along the bow of Cas’s lips, Dean paid his respects to the thousands of imagined mornings and nights that would not be. Dean worshiped Cas in a way he never wanted to, but in the only way he’d ever be allowed to.

           “I’m sorry…” Dean placed a featherlight kiss to the corner of Cas’s mouth. Then, unable to bear looking at him, he wrapped the curtain over his face.

           He shrouded the rest of Cas’s body with military precision, robotically completing his ritual. Dean hovered at his side, tightly clutching the final knot in Cas’s wrappings. His head hung listlessly, the foundations of a prayer forming on his tongue. He gnashed his teeth together, smashing it, and the sentiment’s remains tumbled backwards. It ripped apart his insides like glass. The only person who would listen, who’d care, who might heal this hurt, couldn’t.

           Cas was –

           Dean let go, marching into the backyard. Silently Dean joined Sam, amassing wood in his stead while Sam assembled the pyres.

           Together, they completed their duties by sundown. It might have been sooner if Sam didn’t slack off to play nursemaid to Lucifer’s kid. He ran off at the slightest bit of static coming from the garish, incongruently colored baby monitor clipped onto his belt loop, dragging their duties out because of intermittent breaks. When they finally set Cas and Kelly on their respective pyres, the sky darkened to the same shade it was that they lost both of them.

           Dean handled the fire. He struck two matches from a box buried in a kitchen drawer, then tossed them into the kindling. Sam, meanwhile, held a very fussy baby that showed no respect for ceremony. His piercing shrieks rung out clearly, somehow amplified by the open space. And as Jack’s cries mixed with the roar and crackle of flames, along with Sam mindlessly grunting back in a desperate plea for Jack to stop, Dean gave in. He stole Jack from Sam, nestling the baby against his chest.

           His temper lessened while in Dean’s arms, and Jack soon quieted.

           Dean felt Sam’s stare on his profile once more, an uncomfortable heat much different than what radiated from the cremating bodies before them. He hated it, being gawked at like some zoo animal. Yet Dean refused to turn, to bark at Sam that this momentary lapse meant nothing.

           He’s only exhausted. Too tired to shutter the devastation on his face, every crack of Dean’s heart was on full display. He’s not in the mood to fight with Sam, either, aware he needed him more than he needed to lash out. He’s broken and couldn’t even manage the energy to toss Jack into the fires like he imagined himself doing.

           Instead, Dean embraced him. He watched the smoke of his angel’s body drift upwards, Cas leaving him for good, forever, and rested his chin against the small, soft head of Cas’s destroyer.

Tagged List:

@llamasdumpsterfire

#supernatural #spn #spn13 #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #sam winchester #jack kline #baby jack kline #widower!dean #canononical character death #spn chapter fic

[city-writes]

Unwaivering

Kirishima can't help but find himself drawn to the blond currently hunched over, asleep at his bedside. He can't explain it, this magnet-like attraction to him, this innate sense of comfort, of familiarity that seems to pool in his stomach, flutter in his chest as he looks over the other man.

The presence of a horned woman with pink hair and skin sitting in the chair less than 3 feet away from his hospital bed also provides a sense of comfort to him, but not to the same strange extent the blond does.

If only he knew who either of them were.

Warnings: Aged-Up Characters; Pro-Hero Characters; Memory Loss; Blink-And-You-Miss-It Manga Spoilers;  Pairing(s): Eijirou Kirishima/Katsuki Bakugo (KiriBaku) Word Count: 12,254 words.

Read it here on AO3! Commission Info!

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The solid, steady rhythm of some kind of beeping is what rouses him.

The sound's not sudden; Its as though he'd been floating in a black, inky void that muffled anything and everything, but the beeping had been patiently insistent. He wasn't sure when he'd registered it, or how long it'd been slowly rising in volume before he could no longer ignore it, but now that he was aware of it, he had to know what it was.

The second that desire for knowledge, that determination is cemented in his re-stabilizing consciousness, he feels heavy. There's a general acknowledgement of 'hurt', pretty much everywhere.

Before he brings himself to open his eyes, he can feel himself laying down, but not flat on his back. He's propped up slightly, in an angle that's an awkward compromise between sitting up and laying down. The plush comfort beneath him, behind him, as well as the warmth that carpets him from about his mid-chest down, is indicative of him being in a bed. Safe. Is he safe? He tries to bring himself to talk, to call out for someone, anyone, that could or would help him. Why wouldn't he be safe? Should he be safe? Was it normal to wonder if you were safe or not while waking up? No words leave him, though, a low, strained sounding groan being the only thing he could manage.

There's the sound of a sharp intake of air(a gasp, maybe?) from somewhere nearby, but he momentarily ignores it, moving what all of his body he can as he slowly re-acquaints himself with the familiarity of his joints, his muscles. That general sensation of 'hurt' now becomes more pronounced, more detailed, more specific in various areas of his body: the expanse of his chest, the length of his arms, though most notably is his head. He slowly tilts his head from left, to right, then back to its natural position, feeling his face contort in discomfort. He takes a deep inhale, and feels the ache in his chest expand as his lungs do. Reflexively, his fingers curl in on themselves and--

There's a warmth in his right hand, a presence of something foreign loosely wrapped around it.

Despite the surprising weight his eyelids seem to bear, he's able to open his eyes, looking down towards his right hand. As the world around him slowly comes into focus, he's able to make out that yes, he is on a bed, and yes, there is definitely something in his hand - specifically, another person's hand. Instinctively, he brushes his thumb along the back of this other hand. Though as his gaze travels along the arm connected to that hand, and the body connected to that arm, he stops, and takes in the sight of a blond man sitting in a chair placed directly next to his bed, hunched over in an uncomfortable looking manner. The blond's torso is resting awkwardly against the bed, and his head is turned in his direction; as though this mystery man fell asleep watching him.

There's a moment's hesitancy, a brief lapse in action as the thought of 'Who is this man?' relays itself in his head. However, before he can make any other move to interact with the blond, a voice cuts through the silence.

"Kiri?"

Tensing, he reluctantly tears his gaze away from the blond at his right side, to the owner of the voice coming from his left. He's greeted with the presence of a young woman with a pair of pale yellow-white horns in her poofy pink hair, the shade of which matched her skin. She was sitting in cushioned chair approximately three feet away from his bed, in a white and pink tye-dye crop top and black leggings. Their gazes lock, and in searching her eyes for some sort of explanation, she opens her mouth again, speaking softer this time.

"... Eijirou? Babe?"

He blinks at the tone of her words, the slight tremor in her voice. It sounded almost like she was... scared, maybe? Kiri... Eiji...rou? Lamely, he draws his gaze away from her, staring more at the floor by her feet. Why did that feel familiar? Kiri... Eijirou...

...Eijirou... Kiri...? There was something more; He could feel it. Kiri... Kiri... Kirishi... Kirishima...?

His eyes widened. Eijirou Kirishima.

Oh. Oh, that's right; That was his name, wasn't it?

It felt like something clicked into place at that, and Kirishima raised his left hand, his gaze going from its current spot on the floor, to his raised hand. He flexed his fingers, exhaling slowly as he did. Looking up, Kirishima finally took in his surroundings, and was made aware of the IV hooked up to his right arm, of the beeping that had woken him up in the first place coming from a machine that was monitoring his pulse, of a second bed in the room several feet behind the blond slumped by his side.

"I..." His throat feels raspy, the timbre of his voice soft and low, "Is this... a hospital?"

The pink woman nods, the move slow and hesitant. Her eyes glance towards his head before looking back into his eyes, and she takes a moment before speaking again. "Yeah, you..." She frowned slightly, her lower lip jutting out in a pout as she seemed to consider her next words carefully. "You've been here since about noon, yesterday." Kirishima glances around the room at that, eventually landing on an analog clock on a wall that read a little less than half past seven. The lack of light shining through the room's windows tipped him off to it more than likely being in the evening. The woman's voice draws him back to look at her. "What all do you remember?"

At that, Kirishima blinks, opening his mouth momentarily before slowly closing it upon realizing he couldn't recall... anything, really. A cold chill washes over him as he tenses, it briefly feeling like someone had frozen his insides. He didn't even remember his own name until just a moment ago... what the hell happened to him? He can only imagine the expression he's giving off, because he watches as the woman's own expression falls, her lips pressing together in a thin line as a small whimper(? whine?) escapes her.

He has the feeling of wanting to comfort her, something in him saying 'you don't like seeing her like this', and starts to stretch his left hand out as though he's trying to reach for her. She meets him halfway, turning the chair to face him directly, grabbing his one hand with both of hers.

"You don't remember anything, do you?" She asks, a sad laugh escaping her as her eyes begin to water. "You big doof, reaching over to try and make me feel better when you're the one in the hospital bed." She pulls one of her hands away to awkwardly dab at her eyelids with the back of her thumb. "You're gonna make me ruin my makeup."

Kirishima manages a weak smile and chuckle, giving the hand still holding his a gentle squeeze. The action reminds him that his right hand is also occupied by the hand of another, and he glances over to the blond again, chewing worriedly at his lower lip upon realizing that the blond was wearing a hospital gown, and that both his arms were wrapped in bandages. This guy was hurt too? Looking back to the woman, Kirishima speaks. "What happened to him?"

Another laugh leaves the woman, though this one sounds more... amused than sad. The sound is followed by a sniffle, and she shakes her head with a small smile on her face. "First you're worried about me, then you ask about what happened to Blasty? I mean, I know you, I get it, but c'mon. Kiri, babe, you're my best friend and I love you to death, but you could be a little selfish for once and ask about yourself, ya know?"

There's a beat of silence between them, Kirishima blinking before frowning confusedly. "Best friends?" He asks, his head cocking to the side slightly. "We're... best friends?"

A flicker of hurt passes through the woman's eyes at that, and there's an immediate feeling of guilt that sinks deep in Kirishima's gut. But the hurt is gone as quickly as it appeared, and she nods. "Yep!" She plasters on a big smile, giving his hand a tight squeeze. "The name's Mina Ashido. We've known each other since middle school, though we didn't really give our friendship the 'best friends' label until about our second year of high school." Her smile simmers down into something more playful, a giggle escaping her. "Honestly, Kami moped for like three minutes after finding out, and tried to save face by saying that Sero was his best friend, but you were quick to scoop him up in a hug and be like, 'Don't worry Denks, you guys are all my best friends!' but I had to add in that I had seniority and rank on him and Sero since I'd known you longer, and--"

A groan cuts Mina off, her and Kirishima looking over to the origin of the noise: the blond at Kirishima's bedside. The blond's expression scruntches uncomfortably, a small snort escaping him as he nuzzles his head against the arm its resting against, and the hand holding Kirishima's twitches.

"Yikes..." Mina whispers, seething slightly. "I should probably be a little quieter."

Kirishima doesn't look back at her yet, carefully looking over the blond and brushing his thumb against the back of his hand. "You said his name was... Blasty?"

Mina's silent for a second, which prompts Kirishima to look back at her. Her expression is sad again, though when she realizes he's looking at her, she's quick to force a smile. "Yes and no," she replies, letting go of Kirishima's hand as she fully sits back in her chair. "Blasty, Lord Explosion Murder, 'Kacchan' technically, if Kaminari's teasing or if you're Midoriya." A weak laugh leaves her as before she says, "I call him Boom Boom Bitch every once in a while, but that's cuz he calls me Bubble Gum Bitch." Her empty smile dies down, and hands are in her lap, her thumbs fiddling with themselves. "... None of that is... ringing any bells?"

There's something in her voice that makes the guilt rush back into Kirishima full force, pooling in his stomach, making his chest ache. His lips curl in on themselves as he forces himself to think, to focus on what he presumes are the blond's nicknames, to try and see if any inkling of his real name emerges for the empty expanse that was currently his lack of memories. But when he comes up with nothing, he looks away and shakes his head, feeling disappointed, like he's betrayed both Mina and the blond by not remembering.

He hears Mina give a soft hum, and a brief silence settles between them. Kirishima isn't sure how long it lasts; it could just be seconds, but it feels like an eternity. He feels frustrated, so frustrated, about this guilt, this disappointment, this upset that threatens to consume him, all because he can't remember this man's name - a man who's currently hunched over at his bedside, passed out, visibly injured, holding onto his hand like a lifeline. Even without his memories, Kirishima could tell this man was important to him in some way. Kirishima's jaw tenses, he closes his eyes and tries his damnedest to recall something, anything, subconsciously holding the blond's hand a little tighter and--

"Eijirou?"

At the sound of Mina's voice, Kirishima opens his eyes, and is caught off-guard by the sudden blur of his vision, by how hot his eyes were. His face feels wet. Shakily, Kirishima's left hand rises to feel his own face, a shuddering breath escaping him as he does so.

...Ah. He's crying.

He sniffles, rubbing at his eyes and cheeks with the back of his left hand, intent on wiping away his tears, on staunching them from flowing any further. Kirishima's too caught up in himself, in his effort to hide his tears (Don't be weak; Put on a strong front, a voice in the back of his head tells him. It's not unmanly to cry though; It's ok to be vulnerable, says an opposing voice. He's not sure which to listen to in this moment.) that he doesn't notice Mina getting up from her seat, the young woman moving to wrap her arms around him in a hug.

Its almost second-nature, the way Kirishima's left arm moves to hook around her back, his fingers grabbing at one of her shoulders as he turns to bury his head against her other shoulder. He can hear her attempting to stifle her own crying, can feel her trembling in his hold, and something nags at him in the back of his head. He's hugged her like this before, they've been in a familiar situation before. Both crying, both upset. Mortified. Abhorred. A feeling of loss. Loss at ...night? ...Midnight? Did something happen to them... late at night? He can't quite place it, can't quite explain it, and opts not to try and vocalize it, not wanting to make the woman - make Mina - cry more.

Mina leans her head against Kirishima's, and when he can feel her crying ease, she speaks.

"... Bakugo. His name is Katsuki Bakugo."

Something lights up within Kirishima at that, an eruption of warmth, of comfort, of emotion he's not sure he knows how to name upon hearing the name. It feels strong, it feels right, it feels like home. The name alone somehow manages to soothe the hurt, the ache he's feeling, and gives him the support he needs to find the strength to ease into a more collected state. His fingers curl into the fabric of her crop top, and he exhales deeply, his thumb brushing against the blond's-- against Bakugo's hand. He turns his head to look at their hands again, his cheek resting on Mina's shoulder.

The sight of their hands conjoined, along with the knowledge of Bakugo's name... Something else seems to click into place, and he's filled with a flurry of emotions. Worry. Apprehension. Fear. But at the same time, there's drive. There's insistence. There's the desire to protect. To help. To save. A rush of adrenaline. A time limit. One chance. An unknown voice: "It has to be you." His own voice, desperate: "Come on!" Katsuki's hand in his. Warmth. Overwhelming relief. Safe. He's safe. He's safe.

So why was he hurt now?

Fingers curl just a little tighter around Bakugo's hand, before Kirishima speaks. "What happened to him?" He asks for the second time now, his voice shaky. "What happened to me?"

Mina begins to pull away, and honestly Kirishima's hesitant to let her go, but says nothing, releasing his hold on her. She moves back only to pull her chair closer to his bed, and takes a seat. She reaches for his left hand, and he's quick to give it to her, giving her hand a supportive squeeze as she prepares to speak.

"Alot of this is probably going to sound foreign to you, so I'll try to make it as... easy to understand as I can." Mina says. Kirishima sees her jut her lower lip out in a small pout as she thinks, presumably to try and filter out anything that might confuse him. He gives her all the time she needs. "You and Bakugo, along with some other people, were on duty, working on some big case." Her thumb brushes against his hand. "I couldn't tell you much about it, because the agency I'm working at wasn't involved. But the agency you work at, and the agency Bakugo works at, were two that were involved."

"You were excited. You and Bakugo hadn't really teamed up on anything together since our last year at U.A-- the high school we all went to together." Mina smiled at that, the sight fond and gentle. "Not that you didn't like working together, it's just that the agencies you worked at had never teamed up before then."

"Agencies... Like, detectives?" Kirishima asked, regretting speaking up upon seeing Mina's soft expression falter.

She was silent for a moment, before working up that smile again and shaking her head. "No, Kiri. Um... Like heroes."

He blinks. Heroes? Him, a hero? He... he couldn't have been a hero, right? Heroes... Heroes had really cool and flashy quirks, and his own was...

What was his quirk again?

Kirishima frowns slightly, slowly pulling his gaze away from Mina as he tries to focus, tries to will some fragment of a memory to him that would tell him what his quirk was, but to no avail. Its frustrating, so frustrating, but he manages to exhale slowly through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again and looking to Mina. He does his best to keep his expression neutral, he doesn't want his anxiety and frustration to upset her. His gaze meets hers, and he nods affirmingly, a silent go ahead to continue.

Mina squeezes his hand comfortingly before continuing. "Like I said, I don't know the full details. But apparently you guys got a break in the case you were all working on, and had to do like, a covert sorta thing? You, Bakugo, and several other heroes infiltrated a building the villains were going to use to take civilian hostages, by dressing up as civilians yourselves and quietly telling the actual civilians to discreetly get out, which woulda left only heros dressed as civilians, and the villains. But something happened, I don't know what, and fighting broke out in the building. You and Bakugo went after one villain together, and apparently the room you guys ended up in had some kids hiding in there. You moved to protect them, but for whatever reason, you didn't activate your quirk in time, and were hurt pretty bad." Mina's visibly forcing herself to not cry at this point, doing all she can to presumably keep a positive face, but its failing and it tugs at Kirishima's heart.

"I don't know exactly how bad you were hurt, how... extensive your injuries were," Mina's hand is trembling in his now, her free hand dabbing at her eyes again, "but I overheard Bakugo talking with one of the doctors when I got here yesterday. Your skull had a really bad fracture, and there was something about your brain, bleeding or swelling or something, and--" She's half-sobbing at this point, clearly fighting to keep coherent. "They'd done what they could to stablize you on site after Bakugo had rushed you to the paramedics, and performed surgery when you got here and you were in there for so long and Bakugo was a mess and I was too but I'd never seen him like that, and oh god, you had us so scared Kiribabe, and-- and--!" Mina finally devolves into body-wracking sobs, the smile gone from her face as she attempts to stifle the noises leaving her. Kirishima's heart plummets into his stomach, and he holds her hand tight, the action being all he can do at this point but its not enough, she's crying, Eijirou, help her, do something, say something, anything. Help her like you helped those kids--

There's a slight pain in his head suddenly that causes Kirishima to wince, pulling his hand away from Mina's into hold his head, palm meeting an apparently bandage-covered temple. There's a chain of coughs. Small. Weak. Pitiful sounding. A whimper immediately follows, trailed by the soft 'shh!' of a child. Child? Children. There's kids in here. He turns his head, takes his eyes off the villain for a moment as an explosion sounds behind him, the sound of a struggle. His eyes quickly scan the area. There's a small leg sticking out near some rubble, black pants, a little red shoe. How did he miss it? How could he have missed it? His gaze trails up the leg, and he spots them: two kids, partially obscured by the debris of the building, one cradling the other - the smaller - in their lap, both children covered in soot and ash.

"Kiri?"

Mina's voice is faint, almost like it's floating away. She sounds scared. A sound escapes him, a grunt? A whine? It sounds far away too, but he doesn't focus on it; he can't focus on it. Not yet. Another explosion sounds behind him, followed by a crash. He hears someone - Katsuki? - cry out in pain. He turns his head. Katsuki's been thrown back first into some of the debris, crumpled awkwardly. Worry. Fear. Panic. Is he alright? It's Katsuki, of course he's alright, right? Get up. Please. Get up. The villain turns from Katsuki to look back at him. Their gaze drops towards the kids. There's a malicious look on their face, and no no nO-- He's moving fast. Is he faster than them? Should he activate his quirk now? No. He's slower when he's hardened; get to the kids first, then harden. Don't risk it. Civilians first. He's running. Adrenaline. Terror. Oh god please make it. He's sliding onto his knees, his body is hunched over awkwardly. Block the children from the villain. Leave enough room between you and the children so they don't get hurt by your quirk. Your quirk. Harden. Unbreakable. Harden!

"Kirishima?!"

His fingers are digging into his hair. He shakes head. Not yet. He can feel the ripple of hardening begin to sprout from the center of his back. Everything's in slow motion. He looks down. One of the kids is hurt, there's blood on their arm as the other kid cradles them. The bigger kid, the one holding the other, looks up at him. There's terror in those eyes. What to do, what to do, what to do? Be unbreakable. Unwaivering. His Hardening's made its way towards the front of his torso, his lower back, his shoulders, the base of his neck. He manages a smile at the older kid. It'll be ok, he wants to say. The words never form. Something makes contact with his back, but it's large, larger than he is. It slams into the entire expanse of his body, regardless of his Hardening's caught up with the rest of him or not. There's a pain in both his arms, at the back of his head, a sickly sounding crack deafened in his eardrums. Pain. Pain pain pain pain pain paIN-- The world is... on its side now? Why are the children sideways? The bigger one is speaking, crying. He can't hear their voice. Its muffled and muddy sounding, as is the villain's voice behind him, sounding rhythmic - perhaps laughter? His vision's starting to blur. Fight, fight, fight! Stay awake, protect the kids, stay aliv--

"Eijirou!"

Mina sounds terrified now, but Kirishima's hands both tighten their grip, there's something hot and wet on his face. He wants to say something, but he can't, not yet, Mina. The sound of an explosion booms behind him, but that too is muffled. The bigger kid lunges forward slightly, being careful with the smaller, using Kirishima's slumped body as a barrier between them and the pressure-filled impact of the explosion. Good. They need to stay safe. Several rounds of explosions burst one after another after another. The world's getting darker now. His body is tense, but he feels himself ebbing away. His surroundings start to fade, but he keeps his gaze on the children. They're trembling in front of him, clasping onto each other fearfully. He wants to move, wants to hold them and soothe their fear, but he can't bring himself to move his arms. Can't bring himself to shift closer somehow. Can't find it in him to even speak. The bigger kid's eyes fly open, and they move, looking past his body at something, before shimmying themself and the smaller child back some. The bigger kid starts crying, and Kirishima's gut sinks when he realizes he can no longer hear the muffled sounds of, or feel the residual force or heat of any explosions. The villain must be coming. Harden. Force it. Protect the kids! But nothing happens. The kids don't attempt to make a run for it. They look worriedly at him, before looking up again. There's a pair of warm hands moving him now, and-- PAIN. His eyes clamp shut as he fails to fight back the garbled noise that leaves him from being moved. He can't hear himself fully, he sounds so far away. There's something hot and wet falling onto him. He opens his eyes, but he doesn't see much. His vision's mostly gone, and all he can make out is a face. An angled face, expression contorted in worry and fear. There's blond hair matted to their forehead by sweat and ash, wide, wet red eyes looking frantically at him and-- oh. It's Katsuki. Katsuki's lips are moving; Katsuki's saying something. The urge to close his eyes is growing too strong to ignore though, the relief flooding his body from it being Katsuki and not the villain making his body feel heavy. He's tired, so very tired. He wants to say something though, to ease that look on Katsuki's face. He feels his mouth open to say something, but he can no longer hear what leaves his lips. He coughs, the action wet and gross, leaving the tangy taste of copper in his mouth. He feels Katsuki tense. Kirishima's sight is so far gone, no matter how hard he tries to force himself to see. He's barely able to make out the sight of Katsuki's lips move one more time. Faintly, he can hear what Katsuki's screaming. 'Eijirou'.

"Eijirou!"

Kirishima's eyes snap open at the familiar gruff voice, his head turning to look at those same red eyes he'd seen in his head just moments ago, a spark of something jolting through his chest as their gazes meet.

Bakugo's awake.

He's sitting up, his expression stern and steely, brows narrowed as he scowls (its a facade, he's terrified right now, one of the voices in the back of his head says, and this time, the other voice doesn't oppose.) and squeezes the hand holding Kirishima's. Its only then that Kirishima realizes he's got both his hands in a death grip, the hand in his hair, and the hand holding Bakugo's. Immediately, he lets go of both, the hand at his hair reaching down to cover his own mouth in abhorrent shock, the other trying to pull away from Bakugo's grip. But Bakugo doesn't let him.

"I'm sorry." Kirishima's voice sounds so small, small enough that for a moment, he doesn't even realize it's his voice, that he's the one who's speaking. He slowly becomes re-aware of his surroundings, the tunnel vision he'd had while recalling what he can only presume were his last moments before waking up here slowly dissipating. Mina's hands are on him, one at his shoulder, one at his mid-back. He's sitting fully upright now, uncurling from the ball-like position he'd been falling into while remembering. Mina looks terrified, she's standing at his bedside, the chair she'd been sitting on pushed away behind her. Kirishima looks from her, to Bakugo, from her, to Bakugo again, before biting his lower lip and lowering his head, eyes welling with tears. "I'm sorry." He repeats. He wants to comfort them, wants to give them what they want, the Eijirou Kirishima they knew, they Eijirou Kirishima they remembered. The Eijirou Kirishima he currently wasn't. "I'm so, so sorry."

He barely registers Bakugo's voice, demanding Mina ('Raccoon Eyes', he calls her) go get one of the doctors, barely registers the loss of warmth and comfort from her hands on him, barely registers the sound of his hospital room door closing. He's alone with Bakugo now, and there's so much he wants to ask, so much he wants to say but he doesn't know how to word any of it, and all that comes out through his crying is another weak, small, "I'm sorry."

Bakugo's free hand joins its twin in holding Kirishima's hand, the blond holding onto it like it's a lifeline. Kirishima feels Bakugo's hands trembling, watches as Bakugo lowers his own head, bringing their conjoined hands towards him. The second the back of Kirishima's right hands is pressed against Bakugo's lowered forehead, he sees the blond's shoulders tremble ever-so-slightly.

"Fucking hell..." Bakugo's voice is soft, slightly gravelly, his dual grip on Kirishima's right hand tightening. "Fucking hell, Eijirou."

There's something in his voice that tells Kirishima that other people would see this as Bakugo chiding Kirishima, being upset at him. Something tells him those other people would be wrong. That this isn't Bakugo being displeased with him.

Something tells him this is Bakugo relieved.

__________________________

An older doctor was quick to come in, Mina trailing behind her before being told to wait outside a short while later. When Kirishima questioned the doctor about making Mina leave, she gently informed him that she only wanted family in the room for just a moment, for patient confidentiality reasons. He didn't argue with her - she was the doctor, after all - but at her words, his eyes flickered over to Bakugo, who was still holding his hand, though the blond had shifted back into an upright position when the doctor and Mina had initially come in, only holding Kirishima's hand with just one of his own now, as opposed to both. If Mina was made to stay outside, shouldn't Bakugo have been made to do the same? Didn't Mina say Bakugo was his friend earlier?

...Now that he thought of it, Mina didn't really say what Bakugo was to him, did she? He recalled she didn't mention him during the 'best friend' conversation they had, but did mention some other people named Sero and Kaminari. Maybe Bakugo was a cousin of his?

The doctor - Dr. Higurashi, she'd introduced herself as - began slowly asking him some questions about his current state, doing various little physical tests on him as she did so: Was he currently in pain? If so, where? On a scale of one to ten, how would he rate his pain? Would he please try follow the light she was going to shine in his eyes? (His eyes are the color red, he learns, adding to his assumptions that Bakugo was probably related to him.) Would he please breathe in and out slowly as she checked his vitals? Could he wiggle his fingers? His toes?

After that was basic math questions, basic problem solving questions, all ranging from simple enough to do in a moment, to complex enough to make him wish he had a pen and paper to write his work out on. It wasn't until she began asking specific questions that Kirishima's anxiety began to creep back in.

"Can you tell me your name?" Dr. Higurashi asked as she stood at the foot of Kirishima's hospital bed, her voice as gentle as her expression.

Kirishima nodded, his hands settling in his lap. The doctor had asked Bakugo to give her and Kirishima a little room, so he was currently sitting upright in his chair, having scooted it back a little bit. Kirishima would have been lying if he said he didn't miss the comfort of Bakugo's hand in his. "My name is Eijirou Kirishima."

Dr. Higurashi smiled, nodding affirmatively. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirishima." She gave a quick flick of her wrist against the clipboard she had been previously writing down his physical test results on, presumably checking something off. "Are there any other names or monikers, nickname or otherwise, that you can tell me about?"

Kirishima blinks at that, finding the question odd. "Ah, Mina called me Kiri, if that counts?" He purposefully leaves out the 'babe' and 'Kiribabe' she called him by, not out of embarrassment, but out of the assumption that those might be too personal to count.

From the corner of his peripheral, Kirishima can see Bakugo frown in a way that comes off to him as strange, but he doesn't speak up about it, instead watching as Dr. Higurashi nods and marks something down. "I see. What about your current age?"

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but faltered when he realized he couldn't remember how old he was. He swallowed harshly, biting down on his lower lip as he tried to think. Mina had mentioned something about him, her, and Bakugo all going to high school together, that Bakugo and him hadn't teamed up on anything since their last year there. He'd graduated, obviously, since he was apparently a pro hero. So how old was he?

"I'm..." He exhaled slowly, a shuddering breath that didn't relax him like he'd wanted it to. "I'm older than 18."

Dr. Higurashi gives a brief hum then, and when Kirishima says nothing further, she nods and scribbles something on her clipboard. "Ok. Can you tell me when your birthday is?"

He doesn't even know what today's date is. He doesn't even make the attempt this time in trying to force himself to remember, simply shaking his head. "... No, ma'am."

"Do you know if you have a quirk?" She sounds so kind, so patient. Kirishima's thankful that his assigned doctor isn't someone who'd be getting irritated with him or something for not remembering.

He nods at her words though, before closing his eyes, re-seeing the moments before he passed out in his mind's eye. "I do, it's like... defensive. My body becomes..." There's a word he wants to use, a word that played in his mind earlier, a word that felt synonymous with his quirk, felt right. "...Unbreakable."

"I see." Dr. Higurashi repeats, her nose scrunching slightly as she jots something down, before she asks him more questions. His address, his home town, the last meal he ate, the current season, what the day's date is, his previous schools, his current occupation. The last two are the only ones he's able to provide some semblance of an answer to: He went to U.A. for high school and was currently a pro hero. He doesn't hide that he only knows this because of his conversation with Mina, though. In response, Dr. Higurashi asks him what other schools he went to, and what agency he was associated with as a pro hero. He's unable to answer those.

Kirishima can see the doctor's calculating gaze as she jots down little notes that seem to vary in length, some being as quick as a flick of her wrist, to taking several seconds. Her tone has remained calm and friendly, however, something Kirishima's still thankful for. Her patience and understanding has been the only thing keeping him from completely losing it.

Of course it doesn't last long.

"Can you tell me your parents' names?"

He blinks at that. His... parents? His gaze becomes unseeing, his body seems to just stop as he completely draws a blank. If it wasn't for the beeping of the machine monitoring his heartrate, he'd have believed he'd flatlined in that moment, in realizing that not only has he haven't given a single thought to 'oh god, my parents, my family must be worried about me' in the entire time he's been awake, but that he also can't recall any family. Does he even have his parents in his life? Was he raised by a single parent? Were his parents or parent worried about him? Why weren't they here? Why--

Sound is muffled in his ears, almost like he's underwater, and it takes him a moment to focus again, on the dual sounds of Dr. Higurashi and Bakugo speaking to him. He blinks once, twice, before realizing he's trembling, breathing raggedly, curled in on himself again. Dr. Higurashi's hand is on one of his shoulders, her eyes locked onto him as she's trying to grab his attention. His gaze aligns with hers, and she nods, then begins counting, then breathing, counting, then breathing. Bakugo's stopped talking at this point, but Kirishima can feel the other male's hands on him, one on his back, the other on the opposite shoulder of Dr. Higurashi's hand. Kirishima finds himself leaning into Bakugo's touch, and shakily starts breathing in time with the doctor. They all stay like that for several moments, until Kirishima's breathing has evened out.

"Let's stop here," Dr. Higurashi murmurs soothingly, brushing her thumb against Kirishima's shoulder before pulling her hand away. "I'll give you some time to relax, and we can continue this tomorrow morning."

Bakugo's hand is currently rubbing small circles at Kirishima's back, and Kirishima's more than appreciative for the comfort. But he forces out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back up at Dr. Higurashi. "Wait," Kirishima pipes up, looking pleadingly at her. "Give me one more, please."

"Mr. Kirishima, I--"

"Please." Kirishima repeats. He chews on his lower lip as he sees the doctor contemplate granting him his plea. "We can stop after this last one, I just..." He exhales through his nose, looking down at his hands, which have sat settled in his lap. "...I just want to actually remember something on my own, not something I've been told by someone else."

Dr. Higurashi gave a small hum as she seemed to weigh her options, before closing her eyes and exhaling. "One final question for the night, Mr. Kirishima. Then we'll see how you're feeling tomorrow, alright?"

Kirishima gave a small smile, nodding in agreeance. "Yes, ma'am!"

There was a moment's pause in between them, Bakugo taking the time to pull away from Kirishima then and step back a couple paces, before Dr. Higurashi spoke again. "Can you tell me your current marital status?"

A pout forms on Kirishima's lips at the question, his brows furrowing in thought as he tries to force himself to remember once more. "I..." A frustrated groan escapes him as he curls his hands into fists, the action drawing his eye to his left hand. He relaxed his hands then, lifting his left up some. "I don't... think I'm married." He hated how unsure he sounded. "Its dumb, but I feel like if I was, even with my quirk and being a pro hero, I'd have a ring or something on me somewhere?" He opened and closed his hand twice for good measure, his pout morphing into a sad smile. "So yeah, I don't think I'm married." His mind wanders back to the memory of those kids, hurt and crying while he was slumped on the ground next to them, battered and broken. "Honestly? I'm probably single. I'm a pro hero, and I couldn't even reassure those kids that they'd be ok." A dry, humorless laugh left his lips. "Who'd want to be with someone... someone weak like me?"

He heard the garbled, strangled sounding noise coming from Bakugo in the corner of the room, looking over as the blond began to walk out of the room, an unreadable look on his face. A pang of disappointment tinged Kirishima's heart as he heard his room's door open, the faint sound of Mina's surprised-sounding voice questioning, "Blasty?" before the door closed. His chest felt tight, and he felt... guilty, almost.

But why 'guilty'?

Dr. Higurashi looked concerned as she glanced towards the door, her mouth opening for a brief moment before closing again, her gaze returning to Kirishima. "...Could you clarify that for me, Mr. Kirishima?"

It takes Kirishima a moment to respond, his gaze still trained on the door, as though he was trying to will Bakugo walking back in. But nonetheless, Kirishima looks to Dr. Higurashi, and asks, "Clarify what?"

"What kids do you say you failed to reassure?" She asks in response, trailing around from the foot of Kirishima's hospital bed to the side Mina had previously been on, taking the seat she had been in.

Kirishima blinked, before gasping slightly. "Oh! I recalled it earlier, before Mina got you. I think I remembered how I got here?"

And so Kirishima explained from as early as he could remember, from the sounds of the children coughing and whimpering in that room, to Bakugo calling out for him as he slipped into darkness. When questioned what triggered the memory, he further explained that Mina had been crying about how worried she and Bakugo were about him, about how scared she was, that his mind was racing because he wanted to comfort her, help her, and that she'd mentioned him helping some kids earlier in their conversation, that his mind kind of... compared the situations, to help her like he'd supposedly helped some kids, and that the memory just kind of clicked then.

"I don't remember what the villain looked like, what their quirk was." Kirishima supplies, continuing the rather long ramble that Dr. Higurashi has allowed him to go on. "And I can't describe what those kids fully looked like? I just remember the red shoe that caught my eye, their injuries, their tears..." He exhales to steady himself, decently surprised that he was able to prevent himself from tearing up at recalling it all. "And Bakugo... Mina said our agencies had us working together, that we'd work together at U.A., and I think we worked together well? But my attention was caught by those kids, and then I look back and he's knocked into some of the debris, and when I wake up here, he's in a hospital gown and bandages too? I..." Kirishima's unable to prevent his voice from cracking, the mental image of Bakugo's worried and fearful expression playing in his mind. "I think I made him cry...?" He uses the back of one of his hands to gently rub at one of his eyes, his gaze looking to the second hospital bed in the room that he'd noticed earlier, behind where Bakugo had previously been slumped next to him.

"What you've recalled does align with what Dynamight reported to both medical personnel and authorities," Came Dr. Higurashi's gentle voice, causing Kirishima to look back in her direction, watching as she flipped through a couple of pages on her clipboard, "as well as statements from both the children. Additionally, the arm wound you mentioned seeing on one of the children--"

"So those kids got out safe?" Kirishima interrupted, his eyes wide. There's also the lingering question of who 'Dynamight' was, but the mention of Dr. Higurashi having talked to those kids, having seen those kids, took forefront on his current priority list. "They made it to the hospital?"

The doctor nodded at that, relief flooding through Kirishima's system. "Yes, they did. That arm wound honestly looked worse than it actually was, and we were able to patch them up right away, as well as treating both children with oxygen to ensure their lungs were clear of the smoke and soot in the air." She placed a kind hand on Kirishima's shoulder then. "Please take comfort in the fact that you did good, Mr. Kirishima. You were a hero to those children, and were able to keep them safe."

A shaky breath left Kirishima at that, wiping his face down with one hand as he nodded. "I will. Thank you."

Dr. Higurashi pulled her hand away at that, her smile becoming slightly more stern as she looked back at her clipboard. "From this initial, simple, un-intrusive examination, it would appear you have post-traumatic amnesia, but due to the nature of your hero work, the stress your mind and body can both be constantly put under, as well as your known past traumas, I would be remiss if I didn't also consider dissociative amnesia as well. Post-traumatic amnesia is explanatory in and of itself, and is most common after significant head injury, like what you suffered through while fighting that villain. That being said, dissociative amnesia is linked to both traumatic and intensely stressful events. Be it being in combat from war or hero work, built up traumas, or abuse of any kind: mental, emotional, physical, sexual. Additionally, 'stress' doesn't inherently refer to physical stress. It could apply to stress in personal relationships, in your home life, financial stress, or even stress about your job. Being a hero isn't just public appearances and fights with villains, after all. You also have the internal workings of the Hero Association, be it paperwork, mentoring young work studies, or anything else few and far in between."

Placing her clipboard on her lap, Dr. Higurashi looked towards Kirishima once more. "Simply put, your memory loss could simply be the result of the blunt force trauma you received, or it could be the result of stress and traumas that have built up over time, and the blow to your head was simply the straw that broke the camel's back. However, the fact that you were able to recall all that information is promising regardless of the prognosis. And while I don't like that you recalled such information during a moment of emotional duress for your friend, its a hopeful sign that this likely isn't a permanent affliction for you." With an exhale, Dr. Higurashi stood from the chair, beginning to walk back towards the foot of Kirishima's hospital bed. "Tomorrow, we'll run a few more in-depth tests on you, and I'll go over your injuries in more detail with you then, so as not to overwhelm your right now. For now, I'll leave you to Mr. Bakugo and Ms. Ashido's company. Visiting hours are almost over for the night, so I wouldn't want to rob you of your time with Ms. Ashido." Leaning down slightly, she left the clipboard inside a small box at the foot of Kirishima's bed, before nodding. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me or ask of me before I send them in?"

Kirishima blinked as he processed her words, frowning slightly before nodding at her. "I... I think I remembered something else, something earlier, when Mina was talking with me. But... I don't think it relates to how I got here?"

The doctor's head tilted slightly at that. "Oh?"

"I remembered..." Kirishima's hands curled into gentle fists, a hum escaping him before he continued. "I remembered feeling worried? Anxious? But desperate. I can't fully remember where I was or when it was, but I could hear someone's voice. Then my own, yelling. Then the next thing I know, Bakugo's hand is in mine, and it's... relieving." His fists tighten then, wishing Bakugo was in the room to help fill in the missing gaps.

"Can you recall what all was said?"

He nods. "The voice I can't place simply said: 'It has to be you.' And then I hear myself yelling out: 'Come on.'"

There's no look of recognition on Dr. Higurashi's face, from what Kirishima can tell, simply intrigue as she pulls the clipboard up once more, beginning to write in it again. "Tell me, was there emotional duress that proceeded this flash of a memory too?"

"Kinda?" Kirishima sighs, one of his fists relaxing so that he could rub the back of his neck with that hand. "Bakugo was asleep, and Mina had been talking loud enough to kinda stir him? So she quieted down, and I'd asked what his name was, cuz she'd just called him 'Blasty' before. She seemed sad that I couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember him, so she listed off some nicknames he goes by, and when I couldn't remember, I guess I started crying out of frustration. She hugged me, and then told me his name, and then when I turned to look at him, I saw his hand holding mine and it... came to me."

Dr. Higurashi says nothing, simply nodding as she continues scribbling down notes on the clipboard. It makes Kirishima feel a little uneasy, honestly, but when she puts the clipboard back down, there's a fond smile on her face. "Thank you for sharing this information with me. It seems as though it wasn't emotional duress that helped you recall that, but rather the knowledge of his name and the sight of your hands conjoined. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what significance this fragment of memory holds for you, as it's presumably from a different case than the one that landed you in the hospital in the first place, or something that's happened in your personal, private life. While I would advise you taking it easy for tonight, and not trying to force yourself to remember too much at once for fear of the mental, emotional, and psychological repercussions it might have, perhaps maybe sharing that information with Mr. Bakugo himself might provide a little clarity for you."

Kirishima opens his mouth to reply, but closes it quickly upon realizing he doesn't exactly know what to say. Instead, he simply nods. "Yes ma'am. Thank you."

The doctor nods in response and turns to head out of the room, leaving Kirishima alone for the first time since waking up.

_____________________

The sound of his room's door opening causes Kirishima to open his eyes in response. He blinks the world back into focus, unsure of exactly at what point he'd drifted off, but the clock that had read half past seven when he'd woken up now reads a quarter past nine. A groan leaves him as he uses a hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes, pausing only when he sees Bakugo staring back at him, frozen mid-step, akin to a child that had been caught stealing out of the cookie jar.

A weird bundle of nerves begins to gather inside of Kirishima as he eyes lock onto Bakugo's, and he slowly lowers his hand from his face, looking directly at the blond. "...Hey."

Bakugo exhales, looking away from Kirishima's gaze then. "...Hey."

An awkward silence settles between them, before Bakugo relaxes somewhat, folding his arms, and glancing back to Kirishima, looking over him once. "...Sorry 'bout wakin' you up."

Kirishima blinks at that, before holding his hands up. "It's all good, man, no harm done." He watches as Bakugo's gaze shifts again, the blond looking over towards the other bed in the room, before looking towards the chair he'd previously been sitting in instead. A scoff leaves Bakugo before he moves to the seat, sitting by Kirishima's bedside once again. His arms are folded against his chest, and he props his feet up on the edge of Kirishima's bed, lowering his head somewhat, chin resting against his chest as his eyes close. Again, there's an awkward silence, causing Kirishima to chew on his lower lip slightly. "...You're not gonna fall asleep there, are you? That might not be good for your wounds, dude."

Bakugo opens an eye then. "...You want me to fuck off to bed?"

Tensing slightly at his words, Kirishima blanches a bit, and swallows. "I didn't say that!" His hands fly back up in surrender, trying to show he meant no ill will. "If you wanna sit here and like, talk or something, that's totally cool, dude! I just don't want you to fall asleep in a weird position and wake up in pain or something! That'd be really unmanly of me to just let you... do..." Kirishima falters then, blinking as he lowers his hands, a frown taking place on his lips as he looks down at them. Why had he defaulted to the word 'unmanly'? He could have said anything; 'Inconsiderate', 'Rude', 'Asshole-ish' even. So why 'Unmanly'?

And why did it come so naturally?

Upon realizing Bakugo hasn't said anything in this mini-freak out moment, Kirishima looks up from his hands over to the blond, whose red eyes are wide. There's a look akin to hope on Bakugo's face before he seems to register Kirishima is looking at him, and that look is quickly replaced by a strange type of hesitancy, an unease as Bakugo seems to think about what he wants to say next. However, nothing seems to come out.

Kirishima looks over Bakugo once, before looking at the clock. "...I guess visiting hours are over?" He asks, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "Dr. Higurashi said they'd be over soon." It'd explain why Mina hadn't come back yet, despite the doctor's attempt to give her more time before visiting hours ended.

"Would you rather Raccoon Eyes be here, instead?" Bakugo asks, causing Kirishima to look back at him. While the blond's words seemed harsh, there was something in his voice that sounded unsure, almost hesitant.

For a brief moment, he mentally compared navigating talking to Bakugo like navigating a minefield, an explosion waiting to go off. But while the strange association of 'explosion' and 'Bakugo' seemed to slot together smoothly in his head, he felt guilty about the comparison. Navigating a minefield was a task seen as treacherous, absolutely unpleasant in every way, shape, and form. That didn't feel like it fit with Bakugo at all. Maybe... a mouse in a maze instead? Mazes were a thought-inducing task, but there were no negative connotations to them, right? Minefields were about life or death; Mazes were about reaching a goal. Currently, Kirishima himself was the mouse, traversing conversation with Bakugo was the maze... so was feeling more at ease the cheese at the end of goal? Feeling more secure? There was something more there, something just out of grasp that he couldn't place.

"I mean, Mina was nice," He answers after taking a moment to remember that Bakugo had called Mina 'Raccoon Eyes' earlier, "and she's apparently my best friend? Or one of my best friends, but she claims seniority? But I don't think I'd rather her be here than you." Though to be honest with himself, Kirishima didn't like that Bakugo was hurt and in the hospital like he was. At the same time, he didn't really want to be alone either. "Why do you call her that anyway?"

Bakugo grunted, shifting in his seat slightly, crossing one leg over the other. "... Doc said you remembered the fight." It wasn't a question, Kirishima noted, but there was something about the way Bakugo said it that seemed almost like... like he was testing the waters?

"Kinda, yeah." Kirishima nodded, looking back down. "I don't remember everything; It picks up for me noticing those kids for the first time, hearing them and turning to look at them."

"...What's the last thing you remember?"

There's something in Bakugo's voice that Kirishima can't quite place, can't quite name. He would put thought into trying to decipher it, but he can't help the sudden tightness in his chest, the sudden influx of emotions he feels as he recalls the blond's frantic, tear-stained face in his mind's eye. The feeling of warm hands holding him, forcing Kirishima to look up at him. The immediate shift from fear and desperation at thinking the villain was coming for the kids, to unmitigated relief upon realizing it was Katsuki, Katsuki, not the villain.

Kirishima opens his mouth, intending to say something along the lines of 'Honestly? You, Bakugo.' but pauses when he replays those last moments in his head again. His brows furrow as he remembers the tumultuous typhoon of emotions as he thought the villain was approaching him and the children, how he initially wanted to fight against those hands on him, the way he was able to relax when he saw it was... Katsuki. How Katsuki's lips moved, how Katsuki's words were falling on deaf ears. How relieved he was it was Katsuki, not the villain. How he wanted to say or do something to ease the frantic look on Katsuki's face. How after he'd coughed up blood Katsuki tensed. His vision darkening as all he sees is Katsuki's lips moving. The world going silent after hearing Katsuki scream "Eijirou!".

His mind replays that fragment of a memory, again hears the stranger's voice say: "It has to be you." Again hears himself scream, desperate: "Come on!" He looks at Bakugo then, and there must be some kinda look on his face, because Bakugo is sitting up now, his feet pulled off the edge of Kirishima's bed, his head upright as he looks at Kirishima, his face trying to remain stoic, but there's a belying concern in his gaze.

"Eijirou?"

That sudden tightness in Kirishima's chest constricts further at Bakugo's voice, and he can't tear his gaze away from the blond. His hands are trembling. Why is it always 'Katsuki' in these memories, not 'Bakugo'? There's something there. Kirishima can't place it. Its right there, but its not. Whatever it is, it's wanting to burst out - but he doesn't know how to let it. Like an wild animal in a trap, it's fighting, thrashing against the confines, desperate, desperate, desperate.

"Ever since you met him," The stranger's voice is back, "You've built a solid relationship with Kacchan, as equals." Why does he inherently know the stranger's talking about Katsuki? "If it's you that calls to him... He'll listen!"

"Shit, Ei, I-- Fuck, I shouldn't have--"

Kirishima's body moves before he can think.

His arm is outstretched towards Bakugo, hand trembling violently. The desperation is still tempestuous inside him, the tears burning in his eyes. He wants the blond's hand in his, needs it. Why? There's significance behind it. But he can't place it. Come on.

Bakugo's hand unwaiveringly clasps onto his, gripping tight. There's no hesitancy, no trace of unsure emotions as he stares Kirishima down. His lips are drawn tight, but not in a way that denotes anger or irritation. But the blond's gaze is intense. It's like he's trying to get a message across without speaking, trying to project it from his mind into Kirishima's. Kirishima's gaze falters under the pressure, and he looks to their hands, reflexively tightening his grip on Bakugo.

And he sees it.

There's two people, each on one side of him. The cold is biting at his skin, the rushing wind amplifying the dropped temperature, but he doesn't care, he'd freeze a thousand times over if it meant saving Katsuki. He's in the air, along with the people hanging off his sides. He whips his head around, his gaze narrowing in on Katsuki, who looks like an ant from this perspective. But even with the distance, their gazes lock and he throws his arm out and screams, "Come on!". And Katsuki does. He's blasting through the air, aiming straight for him. His hand slams into his, and Katsuki breaks out into a grin Kirishima can only describe as feral, eyes wide a mix of fear and relief and amusement and trust. And Katsuki speaks through his smile, his voice clear, even above the rushing wind around them. "You idiot!"

The tears are trailing down Kirishima's face now, but he's composed enough to say, "You're safe." He looks up at Bakugo in time to see the blond's jaw tighten slightly, and nod in response.

"I'm safe." His voice is gruff, but soft. It's comforting. Red eyes never leave him as Bakugo repeats back, "You're safe."

Something about the way he says that causes Kirishima to inhale sharply, as little flashes play in his head. Katsuki's there with him. They're both younger. They're in a dorm. Neighbors? Late night. Shared beds. Curled up next to one another. His bed one night. "You're safe," He says. Nightmares. Katsuki's breathing erracticly. "I'm safe," Katsuki exhales. His bed another night. More nightmares. "You're safe." He says again. Katsuki reaches for his hand. "I'm safe," Katsuki replies. Katsuki's bed now. New nightmares. He's the one trembling this time, he's the one unable to breathe properly. "You made it, Eijirou. You helped Fat." Katsuki murmurs. Foreheads pressed together. "You're safe." The mental image of a flurry of punches, of a man in a yellow hoodie suffering. "You're safe." Reassurance. Fingers dig into the back of Katsuki's shirt. "I'm safe," he replies shakily. Katsuki shifts. They're reaching for each others' hands. "I'm safe."

"I..." Kirishima's voice trembles, and he swallows. "I'm... safe."

The reaction from them both is instant. For Bakugo, it's like the tension in his strings have snapped, and he finally allows himself to breathe, his shoulders slumping slightly, his eyes closing momentarily, but his hand never waivers in its grip of Kirishima's. For Kirishima, it feels as though a door has been opened, and Katsuki's waiting for him on the other side. Like a dam has burst, cracking under the pressure built up inside. His grip too, never waivers.

"I'm safe." Kirishima repeats again, reassurance and support and comfort and trust and an amalgamation of so many different feelings bubbling up from inside of him. It's almost overwhelming, the tears pouring down his face seemingly endless in their flow. "I'm safe, Katsuki."

He hears Bakugo mutter a soft 'fuck' under his breath, before the blond gets up from his chair, sliding into the hospital bed next to Kirishima, never letting go of his hand the entire time. Kirishima doesn't hesitate to slide to one side of the bed to give Bakugo some room, the two of them barely able to fit on the single bed together. Neither seems to mind though, as Bakugo gets under the covers, their bodies slotting next to each other damn near perfectly, and only once they've settled do they let go of each others' hands. Bakugo's quick to clutch onto the front of Kirishima's hospital gown, and press his head against his shoulder, and as Kirishima looks down, he notices the subtle shake of Bakugo's shoulders, notices the hushed sniffles, the attempts to steady his breathing. Kirishima wastes no time in wrapping his arms around the other male, rubbing one hand up and down his back reassuringly.

Bakugo seems to settle after a few moments, and unlike the awkward silences that happened previously, this one is far more tolerable, comfortable, almost.

Resting his chin atop Bakugo's head, Kirishima speaks. "...What are we, exactly?" His voice is gentle, and while his hand has ceased rubbing Bakugo's back, both his thumbs brush circles at his shoulder blades. "You're... important. I know that. You feel safe, comforting. Like home." Bakugo huffs a laugh, and Kirishima can feel the reverberations from the action under his hands. "But you're more than that, aren't you? Honestly, if you had asked me like, 10 minutes ago, I woulda said we were like, cousins or something, but--"

"Cousins?!" Bakugo rears his head back, and for a moment, Kirishima fears someone has switched out the Bakugo from moments ago with a demon or something with how angrily flabberghasted he looks. "Your dumb ass fucking thought we were cousins?!"

Kirishima raises his hands then, laughing awkwardly as Bakugo glares up at him. "Mina was talking to me about best friends, but mentioned some people named Sero and Kaminari, not you! She only mentioned you after! And the doctor only kicked out Mina when she said she only wanted family in the room! And we both have red eyes, apparently! I'm sorry, its not like--"

"Augh, shut up!" Bakugo groaned, leaning up to knock his forehead against Kirishima's. "Goddamnit, Eijirou, I'd ask you to remind me why I love your dumb ass, but you wouldn't know how to answer, would you?"

Love. Kirishima's eyes go wide at the spoken word, and that something inside of them that was wanting to get out - regardless of the semi-sated state it'd fallen into after the two curled up next to each other - feels like it'd finally been freed. Like a bird let loose from it's cage, Kirishima's heart fluttered in his chest, his mouth tearing into a wide, toothy grin.

Bakugo watches as the pieces seem to fall into place for Kirishima, and grins himself. "We're engaged, idiot. You fuckin' proposed to me several months ago, even though we agreed neither one of us would make any big purchases because we're trying to save for our own Hero Agency. But you went behind my back and surprised me, not lettin' me be the one to fuckin' propose because you're a sentimental bastard."

Kirishima can't help the way a warmth blooms in his chest, upon his face. He can't suppress the laugh that bubbles out of him, gently pressing his forehead against Bakugo's as the blond rolls his eyes with a smirk. "For all those angry sounding words, I'm guessing you weren't that upset," Kirishima manages to get out in between breaths of laughter, "since you apparently said yes."

With a 'tch!', Bakugo moved one of his hands to shove Kirishima's face away from him, though there was no real force behind the action, and he moreso just smooshed Kirishima's face than actually pushed him away. "Real snarky talk, comin' from someone who can't remember in the first place." There was a brief moment where Kirishima tensed at Bakugo's words, feeling guilty that the blond was right; That he couldn't remember proposing in the first place. He realized Bakugo must have noticed, because the hand that had been smooshing his face twitched, before pulling back some. "Fuck, Ei, I--"

A sad smile tugged at Kirishima's lips then, and he moved one of his hands from Bakugo's back to grab at the hand that Bakugo had been pulling away. He heard Bakugo's breath hitch as they hands slipped into one anothers' easily, and as Kirishima pulled them towards his lips, brushing his lips gently against Bakugo's knuckles. He looked up at Bakugo upon hearing the blond exhale, red eyes meeting red. "It's fine, Katsuki." Everytime he said the blond's name, it was like his heart would skip a beat. It felt good, felt right, felt so much more natural than simply 'Bakugo'. "You'll help me remember, won't you?"

Bakugo's eyes go wide at that, before his brows furrow and a look of fierce determination burns brightly in his expression. "What kind of fucking question is that?" He half-growls, before lowering their hands from Kirishima's face and quickly crashing their lips together. Kirishima's suprised at the action, but finds himself easily falling into it, as Bakugo secures his grip in Kirishima's, holding onto it like a lifeline, and moves his free hand to hold the back of Kirishima's neck. Kissing Bakugo is like saying the blond's given name; it feels right. Feels like home.

But Kirishima's quick to pick up on the desperation in the kiss, on an urgency, an insistency that begins to set a worried flame alight in his gut. He breaks the kiss and opens his eyes, slightly breathless as his gaze falls upon Bakugo's face.

Katsuki's crying.

Its not a body wracking sob like Kirishima himself had been letting out earlier, it's calm and silent, aside from the faint trembling Bakugo seems to be attempting to suppress and the small tears slowly making their way out of closed eyes. Kirishima's quick to let go of Bakugo's hand to instead cup the side of his face, his thumb brushing away the tears that fall near it. "Katsuki?"

Bakugo leans into the touch, but his lips curl in on themselves, and he shakes his head slightly. He breathes out of his nose, quiet for a few seconds before speaking. "... I thought I fuckin' lost you, Eijirou." His voice is soft, so goddamn soft. It's soft and vulnerable-sounding and shaky and everything in Kirishima's brain is saying is not very Katsuki. Bakugo's eyes open then, and Kirishima's stomach churns at the desperation that's hidden behind a forced mask of faux intimidation. "If you ever put me through the same hell that the past damn near 36 hours have been ever again, I'll fuckin' kill you myself, got it?"

Kirishima finds himself nodding, lips wobbling as he recalls the memory of Katsuki yelling out his name as he passed out in the blond's arms, of the tears the blond shed, the twisted, tense expression he wore. He recalls Mina's words about how badly he was injured, about how long he was in surgery, about how Katsuki was apparently a mess the whole time. How he'd apparently been unconscious for over 24 hours. Kirishima shifts then, the movement awkward as he pulls his other arm out from under Bakugo, but he's quick to place that hand on the other side of Bakugo's face. "Katsuki..." Kirishima leans in, presses their lips together gently for a brief moment before pulling away, though Bakugo's quick to chases after him, insistent on another peck of a kiss, and another, and another. Kirishima eventually pulls away though, if only slightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Every fucking time I'd close my eyes, I'd see you coughing up blood in my arms." Bakugo's eyes are closed again, his head shaking slightly from side to side as he spoke. "I'd see you pass out, you going fucking limp in my fucking arms, and--" He cuts himself off, brows furrowing as his nose scrunched. "I shoulda noticed those kids before then, shouldn'ta let that damn villain catch me off guard, shouldn'ta--"

"Katsuki--"

"They said you had a goddamn seizure in the operating room." Bakugo's breathing has become somewhat ragged by this point, and the hand of his that Kirishima had previously been holding moves up to grab one of Kirishima's wrists. "They said that if it wasn't for the fact that your hardening had at least managed to reach the base of your neck, then the impact mighta fuckin'--"

Bakugo's cut off by Kirishima's lips pressing against his, gentle in their empathetic insistence. Whatever words the blond was going to say died in his throat as he kissed Kirishima back, grip on his wrist tight. Upon feeling Kirishima's thumbs brush away at his gradually slowing tears, Bakugo pulled away, cursing softly under his breath, nudging his forehead against Kirishima's as he opens his eyes. "Eijirou, I--"

"Tell me tomorrow." Kirishima murmurs softly, shaking his head ever so slightly. "Dr. Higurashi said she'd tell me about my injuries and stuff tomorrow after a few more tests, so tell me then. For now..." He pulls his hands away then, using his arm to wrap back around Bakugo, hugging him close, "I just wanna lay here, holding you."

A huff of a laugh escapes Bakugo then, and he pulls his head away from Kirishima, slotting it instead snugly on Kirishima's shoulder, his temple pressing against Kirishima's neck. He stays silent though, a notion Kirishima doesn't argue or press against, and the two fall into an eased state, tangled up in each other. There's a brief thought in Kirishima's head of 'The hospital staff would probably prefer Katsuki be in his own bed', but 1) Kirishima doesn't want the blond to leave his arms, and 2) he figures should totally be fine since they're engaged, right?

One of Kirishima's hands moves upwards to the back of Bakugo's head, threading his fingers through the other male's hair. He hears a hum of contentment leave Bakugo, and smiles to himself, leaning the side of his head against the blond's. After a moment, Kirishima speaks. "... Hey, Katsuki?" A grunt of acknowledgement is all the response he gets from Bakugo, but its half-hearted, and Kirishima can't tell if Bakugo's even fully awake or not. Regardless, he continues. "If one good thing came out of this," he says with soft smile, "its that I get to fall in love with you all over again."

Bakugo tenses in Kirishima's hold, and pulls away from his spot to look at fiancé. There's a vibrant flush of color spread along his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and his expression is contorted into a flustered mess, though its apparent he's actively trying to keep it schooled and steely. Its enough to jar Kirishima just a slight bit, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Bakugo beats him to the punch.

"You absolute bastard." He says, the corners of his lips fighting against the urge to curl upwards in amusement. "You sentimental-ass motherfucker." He's visibly losing the fight, shaking his head as his body trembles, though whether its out of amusement or frustration, Kirishima can't fully tell. "You fucking--" Bakugo finally gives in to the urge to laugh, the sound soft and in the back of his throat. "I can't believe you."

Kirishima finds there's a bright smile tugging at his own lips, and soon he's laughing as well, the two of them tangled up in each other, in their own little bubble of comfort, if only for the time being.

"I can't believe I love your dumb ass." Bakugo groans through a smile, shaking his head before nuzzling back into his previous position, pressing a kiss to Kirishima's neck. Kirishima just laughs, and pulls the covers up on them a little more, snuggling up against both the bed and Bakugo. He wants to stay up longer, wants to spend more time talking with Katsuki, holding and feeling and experiencing Katsuki, wants to prolong the inevitablility of the morning's coming, of the solemn seriousness that's going to come with the beginning of his road to recovery.

But he knows one thing.

He trusts Katsuki to be there with him every step of the way. He trusts Katsuki to always have a hand out for him, to help him when he needs it. He might not have his memories, but there is one thing he's absolutely sure of. His trust... his faith in Katsuki? It's solid, it's steadfast, it's resolute.

It's unbreakable.

It's unwaivering.

#Krys Writes #My Hero Academia #KiriBaku #Eijirou Kirishima #Katsuki Bakugo #Mina Ashido

[popcornaddict500]

Alien! m6 headcanons (little nsfw)

(just a funky idea i had :P. I’m gonna be putting my own designs of how i think they would look as aliens haha. @steponmemrasra @the-yelling-cave i grant thee the aliens)

Asra

-He has six arms, somewhat pointed ears and a long tongue. He has a white deer-like tail. His hair is longer, and he often wears it in a loose ponytail draped across his shoulder. He has sharper teeth and clawed hands. He usually wears a white coat paired with a purple blouse and a tight-fitted pair of pants. He has the ability to float, but not to fly. If he falls he can hover. He does have futuristic armor, but doesn’t wear it often. His armor is white with a purple shine to it. He’s built robots to do work on his ship, and often does research on other species and such. (he needs glasses sometimes haha) This research is harmless, he merely wants to know how other beings’ minds and bodies work. He also collects gemstones from planets and places, some are very rare. His spaceship is quite large, but not that big. 

-Most likely would meet you during one of his research sprees, he would take a liking to you and offer to take you with him on a trip

-Is actually very strong?? Maybe it’s because of the six arms but he can lift weights 3 times heavier than himself. He’s not buff, but i guess having six arms is an advantage

-Sleeps 12 hours a day tbh

-Very good at multitasking ;)

-Has a gigantic snake on his ship as a pet (Faust obviously)

-He loves exploring planets so try to keep up when he starts running around

-Some of the gemstones that he collected are larger than you

-Has two 🍆’s

-Will most likely use his research tools on you, for ultimate pleasure

-Great hugs

Nadia

-Has sharp horns on her head and owl-like wings. Despite not seeming so different on the surface, what’s inside tells a whole different story. Both her face and her stomach can rip open vertically, to reveal a demonic horror of a mouth. Her blood is poisonous and she has venomous fangs. Also her insides glow, including her mouth, blood and other bodily liquids. But she rarely uses her lethal abilities. She travels through space to find plants and flowers of all different sorts, species and types. When exploring, she wears her armor, which is a deep purple. She has various tools equipped on her armor. As expected, her ship is filled with a lot of plant life and flowers. It’s a beautiful sight. She’s alone on her ship, she prefers it. Less crowded, you know. She can fly, but flying is tiring. So she only does it sometimes. Her ship isn’t that big, but it’s equipped with various radars, sensors and weapons.

-She really enjoys eating fruit

-She always and i mean always smells like flowers, be it space flowers or earth flowers

-A great cook

-Might seem soft but can kill you with no effort

-When she’s in her ship, she doesn’t wear clothes, ever. (unless she has company, of course.)

-Her touch has a strange effect, it makes the person getting touched feel dreamy, in a way. It’s very relaxing and wonderful

-So imagine how warm and lovely kissing her must be

-She would meet you when gathering plants, maybe from your garden. She wouldn’t have known, because ‘gardens’ are unknown to her

-Can be incredibly direct at times

-Her skin is so soft??? Like it feels like silk but better

-Has very experienced hands ;)

Julian

-He's got 4 eyes, first of all. Two smaller ones are underneath the original ones. He has two columns of 3 holes on the sides of his neck, he breathes out of those. He can breathe out of his mouth too, of course.  So 3 holes on either side of his neck. On his body are bioluminescent lines, their shape is sharp, curled and symmetrical. Two of the pointed lines are on his jaw and a part of his cheek. (like on both sides of his face, symmetrical) The glowing color that they give is dependant on how he's feeling. He has a long, leather like tail. He usually wears futuristic black armor, when he's relaxing he wears a fullbody alien made suit, it clings to the one wearing it and it's practically like a second skin. It has a high collar (but with holes in it) and it ends at his shins and hands. His armor is shiny and equipped with various plasma guns. He has 'drones' which are mindless servants of a lower ranking than him. Their only purpose is to do what he orders them to. He's the leader on his ship. His skin isn't much different, but he's cold blooded.

-Definitely the type to just visit earth and look around for a bit (or for an order from his superior)

-If he did abduct you then it would be to ask some questions about earth or because he liked you

-Would politely send you back if you wanted to go back

-He uses a translation device to speak with you (all of the m6 do tbh)

-Since he’s cold blooded, if he gets too cold then he’ll go into hibernation... Keep him warm, skin to skin ;)

-He doesn’t understand the concept of clothing- hence the suit that hides... nothing- and is often confused about why humans wear such restrictive clothing

-Have i mentioned how gigantic his ship is? Larger than your average neighborhood, i suppose. And no, it’s not your basic ufo shape. It’s quite complex.

-Every 2 months, he goes into a heat-like state. Unless you want to be ravaged intensely, i recommend hiding. This state lasts quite a while, and he’ll be constantly restless. He might be a switch, but during this time he’s very much a top ;)

-His tail is sensitive, especially at the tip, so go wild with that

-Super ticklish on the glowing lines on his body

Portia

-She also has 4 eyes, like Julian. And a leather like tail, she’s also cold blooded. But besides that, they’re pretty different. Her skeleton is so flexible, she can make the strangest twists and turns. Her ears are pointed and orange. She can climb walls, sit on the ceiling and she has hair that’s constantly moving around. She just breathes out of her mouth and nose. She has some orange spots on her body, these spots can sprout out spikes when needed. Kinda like a pufferfish. Has sharp teeth. Her futuristic armor is a deep, dark blue and it’s equipped with various devices and weapons. Her ship is also quite big, she has a space cat and some drones. (space cat is Pepi, but with 6 legs and 2 antennae) In casual activities she also wears a skin tight body suit.

-She’s very hard to catch since she’s flexible enough to bend over backwards which is good for some experiments 👀

-She was determined to find out if humans existed, so when she found you, such an excuisite specimen, she just had to ask you to come with her.

-Sleeps a lot but not as much as Asra

-Also doesn’t understand clothing lol

-She’s so curious! She loves getting to know everything about you and your species! ‘How do you reproduce? We use test tubes.’

-Oh and she’s touchy too, both because she requires heat and because she’s interested in your body

-She just can’t help it, humans like yourself are so interesting

-Has sparkles in her hair for some reason

-She’s always got such a nice scent, kinda like fresh wool (if you’ve ever sniffed a cat you know what i mean)

-Likes experimenting a lot, she’s very curious ;)

Muriel

-He has scales on some spots of his body, like the neck, the legs, the ears and his hands. He has a scaled tail and eyes with slit pupils. He has six eyes. He also has two antennae on his head and he can create see-through dragon like wings on his back, powered by his energy. His armor is a dark green, with holes in it’s back for his wings. He travels around space to find different animal species, and befriend some, if he can. His vocal cords are different, it allows him to speak to animals. That doesn’t mean he cannot speak to you. His ship is not that big but not very small either, he’s gained a lot of pets in the time he’s been travelling, so he’s not alone on the ship. He usually wears a turtleneck sweater and a pair of pants when he’s in his ship.

-He’s not fond of fighting so he’s only brought a few weapons on his ship, to protect himself if needed.

-Most likely met you when trying to befriend your pet

-Was super shocked and embarassed, apologizing for trying to take your pet, he didn’t know it was yours

-Sometimes, when it’s dark, he glows. It only happens when the moon(s) is out though.

-Sleeps in a hammock at all times

-Would probably nuzzle you a lot

-He’s very strong (obviously) but loves hugs nontheless

-Sometimes goes flying with some pets and you

-His ship also contains a lot of plant life

-Is embarassed to say it, but tries to ask you to come with him, you’re nice company.

Lucio

-He’s got longer hair and fangs, his ears are pointed and he has 4 arms, two of which being insect like arms. He has an abdomen with a stinger on his lower back. (like an insect abdomen with a stinger) His armor is white with gold, and equipped with various swords and plasma guns. His ship is large, and filled with drones. He goes through space exploring and following orders from his superior. He has the ability to make items bigger or smaller. He usually wears a white blouse and dark yellow pants. He also has some dark markings on his skin.

-When does this bitch not try to destroy other planets

-He wants to but his superior won’t allow him

-The only reason he wants to is bc someone on that planet insulted him

-Would most likely meet you when you went to investigate the loud cursing coming from the forest -this dumbass crashlanded his ship.

-Immediately, he likes you

-Would abduct you with no shame

-Someone please teach this man manners

-Would tease you a lot

-His 🍆 has some ribs and bumps along the sides

-Knows not how to be subtle

-If he’s horny, you can immediately tell.

#the arcana #the arcana headcanons #aliens #the arcana asra #the arcana nadia #the arcana julian #the arcana muriel #the arcana portia #the arcana lucio #julian devorak #nadia the arcana #asrathearcana #muriel #lucio #portia devorak

[greenygreenland]

Birds of a Feather Pt 1: (platonic) Scrooge McDuck & Reader

-i usually do star wars buuuuuut I'm becoming multi-fandom

-the original was deleted

-thanks a LOT technology. Three hours of hard work, down the drain

-comments will really help my mood, so please tell me if you like this

-happy father's day

Important note: You’re cursed with immortality, so you’re forever the age 15

Summary:

Scrooge has been hiding a secret from you for over two decades. You two argue and your relationship becomes rocky.

A week before

(Y/n) was seething in anger. Her chest heaved and her fingers curled into fists so tight that Scrooge worried she’d draw blood. “Twenty--no, thirty something years, Uncle Scrooge. I can’t believe you’ve hid this from me since the day you found me half-dead! How--how dare you?” 

Scrooge couldn’t stand the way (Y/n) was looking at him. Her eyes were ablaze, filled with hatred and sorrow he could not place into words. Seeing (Y/n), the girl who wasn’t so little anymore, look at him like that made his battered heart burst into little pieces. “(Y/n), I didn’t mean to--”

“No, I don’t want to hear it! You told me my family was dead! You said that I was the only one who survived that assassination.” (Y/n) stuffed a pair of trousers into her suitcase and zipped it shut. “You lied to me for decades! Why?” Scrooge’s lips withered into a frown. “I was trying to protect you!”

“’Protect me’?” (Y/n) echoed. She heaved her suitcase onto its quad wheels with a scowl. “Oh yes, because the wee little duckling who knows martial arts needs help despite surviving countless near-death experiences, adventures as your side-kick, and defeating archenemies. Yes, yes, I’m powerless, aren’t I?” Scrooge’s brows knitted together. He knew full-well that (Y/n) could take care of herself. She survived being stuck on an island as well, being swallowed by a gold-hunting dragon, and so many other things that could have ended her life for good. 

But this? It wasn’t that Scrooge thought she was weak. No, no. It was only that he knew she couldn’t handle the truth. The Eider family were an absolute nightmare. Besides the fact that they were abusive, they were greedier than the greediest ducks, and more power-hungry than the worst of kings. They believed themselves to be the best of the best (which in itself was not a lie), but because of their arrogance, their enemies spread father than the deepest oceans.

Funnily enough, that was what got (Y/n)’s parents killed.

She was a smart lass, Scrooge gave her that, but the one thing she could never seem to do was let them go. During the years Scrooge hid the true story from her, she never gave up in researching and looking into what happened to her parents. It was as if that were the only reason she existed. 

And now that she knew the truth, Scrooge worried what she’d do when she actually got back in contact with her family. Although it looked like she forgave them for ruining her life, abusing her, and for being absolute blockheads, it was clear as daylight to him that she held a deep grudge against her family. “You’re not going back to them are you?” he quietly inquired. 

(Y/n)’s glare made him feel as though he were the dust on an old book. “Guess again, Scroogey.” His expression hardened and the air thickened like jam. “Lass, you are not going back there.” (Y/n) made her way to the door, a tight frown on her face. “I don’t have to listen to you, liar.” 

Scrooge’s jaw unhinged. “I’m your guardian!” 

“Only because my parents died.” 

His shoulders tensed and he slammed the door shut. “You listen here and you listen well!” He yanked (Y/n) away from the door. “Me lying will never compare to how terrible your family treated you. You want the truth so bad? Well, your rubbish aunt hired a hit man to assassinate your parents! There! That’s the truth! Are you happy now?” (Y/n) slapped Scrooge’s hand off her shoulder, but he didn’t pay any mind. 

The two had a silent stare-off that may have lasted for an hour if it weren’t for the knock on the door. “(Y/n)?” Scrooge eyed the door as (Y/n) made her way towards it. She cracked it open just enough to peek out at the little girl before her. “Sorry Webby, I can’t play right now. I’m a bit...”

“Busy?”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) offered an apologetic smile, to which Webby frowned and twiddled her thumbs to. “Okay then. I’ll be in my room.” She made her way down the hall. “Alone.” (Y/n) frowned. “I’m sorry Webby, promise I’ll make it up to you in two weeks time. How about we get ice cream?” Webby froze, eyes wide. “You mean it?”

“Promise.” (Y/n) said. Webby smiled. “Okay.” 

Once (Y/n) was sure Webby was gone, she closed the door behind her and turned on Scrooge with a dark glare. “I’m done arguing with you. I’m leaving.” she announced. Scrooge folded his arms across his chest and seized (Y/n) by the collar. “Oh no you don’t!” He reeled her away from the door and kicked her suitcase out of her hands. “You are staying right here.”

“I’m not a kid anymore Uncle Scrooge!”

“You’re fifteen. Still a kid.”

“If you add the years after I was cursed by you--”

“It was an accident!”

“--I’m about thirty-five years old.” (Y/n) finished. Scrooge ruffled her hair with a roll of his eyes and a light-hearted chuckle. “You’ll always be my kid in my eyes. I suggest you reschedule with Webby to tomorrow.” There was a good pause before he added, “You don’t need to see your sad excuse of a family anyway. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Present

“Lauchpad, please try to stay on the road!” exclaimed (Y/n). The large man-child sped through Duckburg as if he were in a NASCAR race. Speed-bumps and pot-holes caused (Y/n) to slam into the door and Scrooge at least fives times in a row, and since he had a long day of meetings, the old man’s patience ran thin. “Eyes on the road McQuack!”

“Sorry Mr. McDee, (N/n).” 

(Y/n) wanted to be nice to Launchpad, but her stomach did flip-flops and her head ached. She should have expected this, because it was always like this, but her being her always held onto the sliver of hope that Launchpad would miraculously learn how to not crash a car. Scrooge took a good look at (Y/n), a short sigh escaping his lips. “Every dent in this car is coming out of your salary!” 

“Absolutely. Hey, hear about that crazy snow storm on the Drake Barrier Reef? I’d hate to fly into that one. You see, I’m a bit of a pilot--”

Without looking up from his newspaper, Scrooge pressed a button on the door. The glass divider slowly rolled up and forced Launchpad to keep his eyes where they should be: on the road. 

(Y/n) lied down on the seat with a sluggish frown. “I’m just gonna...close my eyes.” Either Launchpad forgot how brakes work, or he had zero brain cells left, because he continued charging through the city until he came to the manor’s gates despite Scrooge’s protests. The limo came to a screeching stop. If it weren’t for Scrooge, (Y/n) would have flown into the windscreen. 

“Why aren’t we moving?” demanded Scrooge. (Y/n) harshly swallowed and sat up. The impatient beeping of the limo’s horn didn’t help her spinning head, and neither did Scrooge’s yelling as he hopped out of the car. “Hey!” he shouted. “Jettison that jalopy from my driveway, ya deadbeat!” 

Who was he even talking to?

“Donald Duck.” 

Oh. 

“Uncle Scrooge.”

Oh.

(Y/n) didn’t care to listen to the arguing. All she wanted was a good cup of tea and a bed. 

“Jettison that jalopy from my driveway this instant, ya deadbeat!”

“Oh, here we go again, giving orders like he’s the richest duck in the world!”

“I am the richest duck in the world, now move!”

(Y/n) couldn’t take the arguing anymore. Her head spun, she felt like she’d throw up, and she really craved that cuppa probably waiting for her in the dining room. “Can you both shut up?!” A pair of footsteps made their way towards the open car door. Through the disgustingly bright sunlight, and the splitting headache, (Y/n) made out the angry face of Donald Duck.

“What did you do to her Scrooge?!” he shouted. Scrooge let out a large gasp, a clear sign he was beyond offended. “What did I do to her?! It was Launchpad’s driving!” 

There was some more chatter before three identical children piled in the limo. (Y/n) didn’t care who they were, and it seemed like the feeling with Scrooge was mutual. When the gates opened and they arrived at the front door, Mrs. Beakely scooped (Y/n) in her arms and brought her to her room. “My, my, was it Launchpad’s terrible excuse for driving again?” 

(Y/n) wordlessly nodded as Beakley set her on her bed. She poured a nice warm cup of tea and handed it to the car-sick girl. “I suggest you rest for a little before you get caught up too much excitement again.” Mrs. B. said. 

A little rest, Mrs. B. said. It would be good for you, she said. Only after waking up did (Y/n) realise she had been drugged by the one-and-only housekeeper. It was obvious she knew (Y/n) wouldn’t get a wink of sleep because she had a tendency to lay awake in bed until three in the morning, but in her eyes, that did not justify her actions, especially after all the action she missed out on. 

That morning, she stood in the dining room, PJs on and mouth agape as three identical triplets bombarded her with an arsenal of crazy questions.

"Aren't you Uncle Scrooge's famous sidekick?"

"Isn't your family crazy rich and extremely prestige?"

"How do you still look the same after so many years?"

"Botox?"

"Water from the Fountain of Youth?"

"No, plastic surgery?"

(Y/n) sent Scrooge a silent look for help, to which he shook his head with a warm smile. "Boys, don't be rude." he merrily said. "She's just cursed is all." The blue one's eyes widened, and for a second, (Y/n) thought he had chocked on his scrambled eggs. "You're cursed? How?"

"Uh..."

"Actually, I have a better question, how did you meet Uncle Scrooge?"

(Y/n) swallowed a bite of toast. Her gaze nervously snapped towards the old duck, to which he folded his newspaper shut and said, "Alright, boys. That's enough. I think it's a bit early for all these questions, especially for her. She hates mornings." (Y/n) smiled a little. "Yeah, I do." She returned her focus on the faces of the three kids. Each had large, bright eyes, extremely large smiles, and loud personalities. Which also happened to remind her of...

(Y/n) leaned over to Scrooge's ear and subtly face-palmed. "They're Della's kids, aren't they?"

"You just figured that out now?"

"I was tired, what do you expect?"

Scrooge rolled his eyes. "Besides that, we're going to Atlantis tomorrow." he nonchalantly announced. (Y/n) almost spit out her tea. "Wait, you're serious?"

He nodded, a sparkle (Y/n) hadn't seen in a while shining in his eyes. (Y/n) couldn't help but feel grateful for Scrooge. If he hadn't stopped her from seeking out her family, she'd probably be dead. (Y/n) Eider didn't belong with a bunch of prestigious, scholarly ducks. She was an adventurer, an explorer, who walked through every corner of the Earth.

But most importantly, she was Scrooge McDuck's one and only side-kick.

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #x reader #reader insert #ducktales x reader

[tipsydipsydo]

BTS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL 🎃

[You're wearing a scandalous Halloween Costume]

A/N: I know, I know... I'm too late. But better later than never!😜 

Gender of the reader: female

Prologue

It's the 31th of October, Halloween. Because the boys unfortunately have to go to practice that evening, you're going to be all alone at home the entire Halloween night. So you spontaneously decide to go to a Halloween-Party with some of your girlfriends. But your boyfriend didn't expect that you dress up in a such short and scandalous outfit (more or less by your own choice ;D), which shows so much bare skin...

「© tipsydipsydo」

These following Scenarios are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

Costume: Bunny-Dominatrix

Jin just wants to go to your shared bedroom to get another hoodie he can put on after practice when he drives home. He didn't expect to find you standing in front of the mirror in such an outfit.

He stands frozen in the doorframe and his jaw drops, completely speechless. You're standing in front of your dressing table and concentrate to turning your hair into accurate curls with your flat iron, until you notice Jin in the corner of your eye.

"Jin, what are you doing and why are you looking at me like I'm from an other planet?", you ask, giggling slightly.

Secretly you're thrilled and proud of yourself to get such reaction out of Jin. Mr. Handsome, who always blabber nonstop, can't say a word right now.

Jin knew you wanted to go to a College-Halloweenparty with some friends of yours tonight. But he didn't know that you chose a Bunny Costume... like this! He thought, you were putting on your adorable Bunny Onesie you bought some time ago... and not that his usual so sweet girlfriend was suddenly dressed up like a Bunny-Dominatrix!

Jin bites his lower lip, trying not to show what kind of reactions cause this outfit.

"Not what you've expected, right, Honey?", you question and turn towards him with a teasing smirk on your lips.

Jin just nods slightly, his eyes are wandering over your body. The skirt is shorter than what he would've expected, what you're comfortable to wear and for the first time he sees you in fishnet stockings.

Futhermore, this latex rabbit mask gives you a completely different appearance. Much more ... dominant.

"I ... I didn't think you would wear... that," he says barely noticeable.

"Really not? Then you don't know some other sides of me yet.", you answer and tilt your head provocatively.

"Which sides?", Jin whispers in an airy trembling tone as he approaches you, lays his hands onto your waist and looks down at you. Your dark red lips twist into a devilish grin and you nudge his nose with your index finger.

"I think, we should find it out tonight when I come back home from the party. I think you'll look gorgeous when I tie you up to the headboard and let you beg for permission until I'll let you cum~

Hm? Would you like that, my big boy?"

Yoongi

Costume: Mafia Girl

Before you put your winter coat on and leave the apartment, you quickly go back to your bedroom and stand in front of the full body mirror to take a picture of your outfit. You want to send it to Yoongi, who gets stuck in his love-hated training once again. You hesitate a little bit before you press on the Send-Button. After that, you quickly put your phone in your handbag, grinning a little stupidly, as if you had been caught doing something forbidden. You know Yoongi and know that he will not like your outfit at all.

You don't know where this idea came from, but somehow you wanted to test your boyfriend, how he would react to seeing you in a ... very short outfit.

You like your Mafia-Bad-Girl-Look pretty much, especially how "dangerous" and at some point also lewd these two plastic pistols looks in your Garter Belts.

Just in the moment when you want to sit down in your ordered Taxi, your phone starts to ring. When you take it out of the bag, you already see Yoongi's profile picture. Oh oh, now you're definitely in trouble...

"Hm? My little Gangster Girl", Yoongi say these words in a mocking tone.

"What are you trying to tell me with this outfit? That I haven't fucked you good enough lately? That you can't remember that's me who fill your pussy up so good? Is that so? Well, then I'll make sure tonight that you know who you belong to. It's me, is that clear? I'm gonna turn you into my good Girl again. See you later, lil bad Girl."

Namjoon

Costume: Jane Bennet from Pride and Prejudice with Zombies

After some considerations, you've decided to dress yourself up as Jane Bennet from Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. You don't like the movie very much, but at least it's about one of your favorite books and it's Halloween, so the zombies in there are okay too. You just want to leave your shared apartment when Namjoon comes through the door. In surprise you look at him, why he's here now, after all, actually he should be in the dance studio. But how Namjoon looks at your outfit is very much more disbelieving.

"You... want to go to the Halloween party... like that?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look down at you, you are wearing a dress in the style of the 18th century with a corset, but in a modern cut and a waterfall skirt.

Yeah okay, the skirt slit on your left thigh may have gotten a bit too high, but after all, the Garter Belt with the fake knives should be able to be seen! And yes, maybe the corset is really a bit too tight, actually it shouldn't be shown that much of your breasts. But you don't have time to change that anyway.

"Yes why not?"

Namjoon takes a deep breath and presses his lips together.

"I'm not your father who tells you what you're allowed to wear and what not, I'm not gonna tell you what you should to wear, you're a grown up woman and you can choose your outfit for yourself!"

"Namjoon, are you mad?"

"No!"

"Why are you saying such things then?"

Namjoon ruffles his hair and doesn't really look like he's not angry.

"Damn, I don't have much time, I have to go back to practice, but I don't think it's funny how you press your beautiful breasts in this crappy corset and overall, that you'll be out there without me! You know, I'm not going to tell you stupid rules what to do and what not, you're an independent woman and can decide whatever you want to! ...but fuck, I would break this damn corset now if I only had enough time and show you how angry and horny I am! Be prepared when you come home tonight!"

Hoseok

Costume: Satans Daugther

Hoseok knows that you spontaneously decided to go to the Halloween party, now that it was clear he wouldn't get a free evening. He has no problems with it, he always prefers that you're with your girlfriends and around peoples, than to sit alone and lonely at home. At some point during the practice, he realizes that he hadn't asked you as what you are going to dress yourself up for the party. As curious as he is, he text you immediately during the break.

Hobi♡ [07:42 p.m.]: Hey Baby, I forgot to ask you as what you're gonna go to the Party? We'll move on in a few Minutes, have fun later!💕

You [07:44 p.m.]: Hey Hobi! A few days ago I ordered some things from Amazon and now I make my costume out of it. I'm going as Satan's Daughter~😈

Hobi♡ [07:45 p.m.]: So my little Girl is a cute Devil~ With Horns and a Tail too? In my metal Image it's pretty cute!😍

You [07:46 p.m.]: I'll send you a picture, give me a Sec!

You [07:58 p.m.]: *You have sent an image*

You [08:20 p.m.]: I arrived at the party, I'm not gonna look at my phone so often anymore. See you later💋

Hobi♡ [09:11 p.m.]: Baby ... please tell me, that's a bad joke that you're wearing this right now! You didn't leave the house in this...thing?! That's nothing you can call "Outfit"!

Hobi♡ [09:15 p.m.]: Baby... Answer me!

Hobi♡ [09:31 p.m.]: I swear to you ... if you come home tonight in this outfit, I'm gonna ruin you so bad, even Satan would start blushing from Embarrassment.

Hobi♡ [09:40 p.m.]: Be prepared for the fact that you will not be able to walk the next days!

Jimin

Costume: Snow White

"Okay, then I'll come to your house for 08:00 p.m. Okay great! But I have to hang up now, otherwise I won't get a costume for tonight! See you later!"

You press the red calling button and put your phone back into your pocket, go straight into the hall and slip into your winter boots and your coat. Quickly you reach for your wallet and the car keys and head in fast steps to your car. You don't have much time left to get a costume for yourself, in one and a half hours all the stores would be closed because of Halloween. You hope that luck is on your side.

When you finally stand in front of the mirror, you look at yourself critically. Actually, you wanted to have the Snow White Dress with a long skirt, but the store didn't have it there in your size. And because many of your friends are going as Disney princesses, you also wanted a matching dress for the Party. So you decided at the last minute with an uneasy feeling in your stomach to choose the costume with the short skirt. And, as it turns out, this outfit has a very short skirt!

When you were on your way home, Jimin called and just wanted to hear your voice and ask what you are doing on Halloween night, where he sadly has to stay in the studio for practice. You tell him about the spontaneous Halloween Party to which your friends and you want to go.

"Oh, sounds really cool, I wish I could join in. As what are you dressing up as?"

You tell him that you're going as Snow White, already searching for some pretty but also wearable shoes for the night. You want to enjoy the evening and doesn't want to think about aching feet.

"Oh my god, I think that fits you really good and it's gonna be look so cute on you, please send me a picture!"

You look at the wallclock and begin to panic slightly, say that you're already late and you promise him to send him a picture later from the Party.

Later in the evening, a little bit tipsy already and much more confident in your costume, you take a picture with your girlfriends and send it to Jimin, giggling softly.

You are awfully curious about how he will react to this picture and what he's gonna say about it. If he like it? You begin to blush when you remember his intense gaze when you walk around in clothes they're shorter than usual. Especially Dresses and Skirts. He's a little Pervert sometimes, but he's your little Pervert!

You [11:38 p.m.]: *you have send an image*

You [11:39 p.m.]: Jiminieee ... I'm going to jail for Breaking and Entering ... help me!😔

Jiminie💕[11:42 p.m.]: Firstly... why is this dress so fucking short and why does it have such a deep cutout?! And why does it look so sexy on you?!

You [11:44 p.m.]: Do you think? I was unsure at first because it's so short...

Jiminie💕[11:45 p.m.]: You look so damn hot in it and I really don't want to know how all these guys there are looking at my Girl. But... could you please come home soon? I got a problem here. Which only you can solve. So... please?

You [11:46 p.m.]: Let me think... hm, nope! 😜

Jiminie💕 [11:48 p.m.]: Well... then I'll just come to you at the party and fuck you in the bathroom. After all, I know how wet you can get when we do lewd things in public~ 😏

You [11:49 p.m.]: JIMINIEEE! 😳🙈 Don't text me such things!

Jiminie💕 [11:50 p.m.]: Love you Princess~

Jiminie💕 [11:51 p.m.]: I really can't wait anymore until you get home again. Oh God, I want to fuck you so badly right now!

Taehyung

Costume: Red Riding Hood

You [08:36 p.m.]: Hey baby, I just wanted to tell you that some friends of mine spontaneously picked me up for a Trick or Treat-Tour through the neighborhood. So don't worry if I'm not there when you get home.

You quickly write a message to Taehyung before you put the costume on that your girlfriends have brought extra for you. They bought it only for you, so you wouldn't have an excuse why you couldn't come along.

You begin to smile at the thought and roll your eyes. They've really thought of everything, to be on the safe side they have chosen a Red Riding Hood Costume, arguing that you can take Yeontan with you as your wolf and he gets an extra long Walkie.

Behind the locked bathroom door you can hear your girls squeal with delight and Tanni barks full of exitement when they call him a handsome boy.

After you closed the zipper of the dress, you get up and straighten your dress. Well... your friends have chosen a short dress for you! They probably didn't realize that you're a little bit taller than the average. You shrug with your shoulders, you're only wearing it for this evening and you're not alone on the streets anyway.

You make a picture for Taehyung and send it to him, jokingly complain about the short skirt, before you slip into your shoes and put Tannie's dog harness on, who is more than happy about the evening walk.

Tae💜 [09:21 p.m.]: Hey Darling! To be honest, I think the dress is pretty short too... Please stay safe when you're out there. Who knows what kind of drunken idiots try to chat you up?😕

You [09:35 p.m.]: Oh Tae ... I understand your worries, but why do you always have to think the worst of your own gender? 😅

We girls will looking after each other, Nicki is dressed as Harley Quinn and has a baseball bat with her! So nothing to worry about😘

You [09:37 p.m.]: *you have sent an image*

You [09:38 p.m.]: Moreover, Tannie is still there, my little wolf and will protect us!😉

Tae💜 [09:38 p.m.]: You took Tannie with you?!

Tae💜 [09:38 p.m.]: I hope he's a good boy and will protect you from evil weirdos!

Tae💜 [09:39 p.m.]: Because your real big bad wolf is waiting very impatiently at home and he's starving to eat his little Red Riding Hood out!🐺

Jungkook

Costume: Harlequin

"Hey Kookie, I just wanted to say goodbye to you! We all will meet up at Katy's House, before we make our way to the party together. You have to leave in 15 minutes, right?", you ask him and lean in the doorway of the living room.

Jungkook is sitting on the couch, playing one of his countless mobile games. He concentrates so much on his game, seeming at first to pretend that nothing and nobody can distract him and just wish you a good night out without even looking at you. But then he looks up and is so shocked by your appearance, that even the phone slide out of his hands and falls into his lap.

"Holy Shit ...", slips from his lips and he swallows hard.

A slight blush settles on your cheeks and you look away nervously, giggling softly. No matter how long you already are in a Relationship with him, his intense gaze embarrasses you again, as so often.

Today is Halloween and you decided to dress up as a Harlequin. And maybe your outfit has become sexier than expected...

You're wearing a black bodysuit with white small bobbles on it, in combination with a pair of long opera gloves and velvet Overknee-Boots. Around the neck you're wearing a Harlequin Collar in a black and white pattern. At the ends of them there are little bells attached and jingle gently with every movement.

Jungkook's eyes wandering over your body, he doesn't even try to hide his hungry gaze. Slowly, he gets up and walks towards you, resting his hands on your hips and gently pushing you against the wall.

"So you want to go out of the house like this?", he whispers softly into your earshell.

You're breathing out shakily, you didn't even realize that you were holding your breath.

"But not until I marked you up as my girl... and maybe also make you come before I let you go.", he growls, nibbling on the soft skin of your collarbone. His fingers start to move, they know exactly where they need to go.

Jungkook reach skillfully between your thighs, open the clasp of your bodysuit and push the bothering fabric upwards. He doesn't let any time pass and slips his hand into your panties.

A trembling moan escapes your lips, still trying to push him half-hearted off of you.

"Kookie ... I ... I can't do it now, I-I have to go, Katy-"

"Katy and the others have to wait. If you want to get out of this house, then just let me finger your tight pussy and mark you as mine, Baby. You can't present yourself in such a hot outfit and then still expect that I could keep myself under control. Give me only five Minutes and you'll come... Then I'll let you go."

My Imagines!

My Masterlist! 

#bts smut #bts scenarios #bts scenarios smut #bts imagines #bts imagines smut #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader reactions #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader fanfic #bts x reader fanfic smut #bts halloween

[a-pretty-nerd]

Happy Halloween (Patrick Hockstetter x reader smut)

Request: "Could you do a Patrick x reader smut where they're at a Halloween party and reader wears a revealing costume and he takes her to a room and punishes her?" ~ Anonymous

Ooooh it feels good to be back! ❤

A/N: Requests are now officially OPEN! Please be patient with me and the rate at which I answer and finish these. I just got this one this mornings and I'm doing it because I have the time to. This will vary! ALSO! If you are interested in some original work, I will be posting it on my wattpad account! So please follow me on wattpad considering that Tumblr is slowly becoming more and more of an inhospitable place for writers like myself.

Warnings: sex! Dom/Sub! Etc! Etc...

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Oh Halloween! What a sweet, sweet holiday! A teenager's paradise filled with house parties, candy, drugs, alcohol and best of all...each other.

You and Patrick had been going steady for quiet some time now. You were his little pet, his prized toy, nobody fucked with you. It was nice to have a gaurd dog on your arm every once in a while.

This Halloween the boys decided to rade a house party, rather than torment little boys like last year. They picked you up at 8, and the boys whistled as you stepped out of your house. Patrick, was lost for words for a moment as his eyes washed over your form. You had managed to rope him into a couples costume, all you requested of him was to comb his hair back and wear white. He did one of those things. He watched as you came out in a bright red bikin, heels, a fake tail, and horned clips in your hair.

"What the fuck is this?" Patrick grunted as he closes the door behind you.

"We're an angel and devil!" You smiled. He watched you pull out a pair of cheap white feathered wings. You tossed it at him before walking past and to the car.

"You sure we can't trade?" Patrick sneered as you took your seats in the car.

"Aw c'mon, thats the fun part! Can't you let me be the naughty one for once? Just one night?" Patrick climbed in the back seat next to you and curled his arm over you to keep you close. No one was coming near you.

"One, night." He repeated as you drove off. When you got to the party the rest of the guys headed straight for the keg. Drunk teenagers were a plenty at this party and there was dancing and halloween themed games, mostly drinking games, but still. There were plenty of other girls dressed like you there but Patrick didn't seem to care. He didn't care that you fot right in because he didn't want you to. You were different, thats why he liked you in the first place.

He followed closley behind you as you greeted friends and acquaintances. He watched as other boys took notice of you. He watched them watch you, and it made him seath with hate and rage. At one point he came from behind and wrapped his arms around your shoulders to keep you close. Something he didn't often do. Patrick had no respect for personal space, but he was either on top of you entirely with aggressive pda, or he wasn't touching you at all. He'd let you touch or hold him but with Patrick it was either all or nothing. So this clear act of "mine" was strange.

He starred others down with his dark brooding gaze, his glassy grey eyes shot men down for miles. He made everyone, including your girlfriends as they watched him gaurd you.

"Hey," Patrick looked down at you, "you alright? You haven't spoken all night." You noted as you starred up into his dark gaze.

"I'm fine." He muttered.

"You don't look fine." Patrick leaned his head forward to hide in the crook of your neck.

"I'm going to tear you to shreds." He growled. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Did I do something wrong?" You knew what you did, and he knew it too. You loved to make Patrick jealous. You loved his protective reaction, you loved to play with him, tease him, toy with him. You brat.

"Don't you fucking-" he was cut off by the slow swaying of your hips. Your pressed your ass against him and swayed back and forth to the music that played. Patrick went silent. You took your shoulders in his hands and began gauding you through the unfamiliar house. One of them had to be an empty bedroom, or at the very least, a newly open one. At parties like this, these houses turned into miniature brothels.

But no rooms were available, fuck it, bathroom then. Patrick shoved you inside before slamming the door behind him and locking his. His chest already heaving, his heart racing. He pulled you close and planted a heated kiss to your lips.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you for this." He growled.

"For what?" You cooed. Patrick reached down and grabbed your ass.

"You little tease. You know exactly what you did, what you were doing to me out there." His fingernails dug into your flesh and dragged until he let go to feel you jiggle. "You are miiine." He hummed as he pulled down your bikini top to reveal your breasts. He gropped them harshly, it made you whimper. "You are mine and mine alone." He growled into your neck he began leaving hickies. "They don't deserve you. They don't GET to have you like I do." He smacked your ass before grabbing and playing with you as he spoke. "You crossed a boundry tonight baby girl," he cooed, "and now I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson." You melted in his arms.

He pressed you down and you kelt for him. He pulled down his pants as you waited patiently for him. His cock sprung free from his boxers as he threw them off. He held your head as he pressed his head go your lips and you took him in with ease. He did with you as he pleased, he slowly rocked his hips as he slid in and out of your mouth. He let drool fall from your mouth and his cock before he pushed himself all the way down your throat. You looked up at him, water streaming down your eyes. He looked down with a cruel grin.

He pulled you away before he picked you up and bent you over the counter table. There you saw yourself in the mirror, devil horns still in, makeup runny, your hair messy. Your breasts fell from your top and were planted firmly on the marble counter.

"Look at you. I'm the only one who can make you feel like that." He purred as his fingers reached into your bikini and pulled the fabric. It pressed against your clit and aching entrance. "You wanted this, didn't you?" Smack, "you knew what I'd do to do." Smack. "And you had me dress up like an angel for it too." Smack! You gave a soft cry. "You really are a little devil aren't you?" He stood directly behind you as he pulled at your bikini one more time. "Naughty, naughty girl." He took his other hand and gently tapped at your clit.

"Patrick, pleease." You begged him as you leaned back into him.

"Don't tell me what to do, little devil. The angels always win, don't they?" He chuckled before fiercely pulling your bottoms off and letting them drop to the floor. He played with you for a moment. He sunk a finger into you and it made you moan. He loved watching you as you arched your back and started to push back to get any sort of friction.

"Fuck..." you gasped as a second finger entered you and he began to move them. Back and forth, in and out. That could work. You tried to push back as he fingered you, trying to get a much needed release. But as you were getting close he pulled away. You whinned and moaned helplessly for him.

"Goddamn you're so fucking wet. It'd be a shame if I didn't use this tight pussy of yours." He placed his head at your entrance and you watched yourself in the mirror as he sunk into you. Fuck he felt so good, you almost came as soon as he entered you were so tense. Soon you started to shake as his hips smacked against your ass.

"Ooohh shit...oh fuck.." you muttered as he fucked you. You watched him in the mirror, his gaze was switching between your ass and your face in the mirror. An insane smile plastered on his face as he fucked you.

"Thats it, thats it, ohh fuck yeah." He was triumphant. His hands clung to your hips as he started to pick up the pace, soon you were cumming all over him. It was made him lean forward and nibble on your earlobe as he whispered in your ear. "You cum so fast for me, Y/N. Naughty girl. I'm gonna show you who you belong to. Look at you, you can't help yourself. I'm all you need, baby." He grunted before standing back up straight and continuing to fuck you. You bouncing underneath him, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you came once again.

Your last orgasm drove Patrick to the edge. He started to huff and puff as he got closer and closer. You could feel him shaking, losing his cool as his climax came. He leaned over and rested hid head on your shoulder as you watched him crumble. Patrick loved to press himself as far in as he could, and cum deep inside of you. You shuddered as you felt him pull out and felt everything seep out with him.

#Bowers Gang #Patrick Hockstetter lemon #Patrick Hockstetter x reader #Bowers gang x reader #bowers gang lemon

[thatk9panda]

King Koopa x F!OC (Chocolate Pie)

Junior and his 7 siblings were having a lazy Sunny day in the Castle's main room just off the Boarder-line of the Mushroom Kingdom, that their Father has yet to claim for the true inhabitants of the land, the Goombas from his once Romantic target, Princess "Peach" Toadstool. Junior sometimes forgets that his Dad was trying so hard to make her his new Mom since he was younger, but now having a mind of a curious child, Junior cringes at his actions, it's so embarrassing but things have changed now. His dad, King "Bowser" Koopa has changed, he no longer fights for the land for the Goobas that begged him to get back because he is the sole only being powerful enough; a falsehood. Time and time again, Bowser fails his missions by Mario "Jump-man" Mario at every turn. Junior sets down his stuffed toy in the shape of a comically detailed bomb with an irate expression as if ready to explode at any bated breath. Stepping out into the all decorated corridor Junior hears his Father's booming voice. "Junior! Do get your Mother for me, Son. She's oversleeping again." Bowser was leaving the kitchen holding a giant pie in his scales. No doubt to Junior his Dad is having Dessert for lunch. "OK, Dad." Junior jogged the carpet steps of his home to his parents' bedroom. Yes, Peach isn't his mom but that's OK. She's still great! After a few minutes of walking and jogging to save time, Junior arrives a tad bit breathless, his excitement to see his mom pushed him to sprint down the hallway. The door to the room was away from others 'close-by' and detailed with rubies and golden frames, his Dad once had a simpler door but upon her arrival, he ordered something Mario wouldn't be able to get through so easily, Window was out of the question, coming in from it just led you to a different part of the castle altogether at random even if you see her from it. Junior can't figure out if his Dad forgot to change it or the two agreed to keep because it was set up all nice. The door remains unlocked without caution, The room was darkly lit, a few candles lines the walls on all four walls, half of it burns to keep the room total darkness has the thick curtain blocked the open stone window. Junior tip-toes on his claws to avoid being noisy has he approaches the bed in the center of the room against the parallel wall of the entrance. Thick blankets nearly cover the tiny human woman under it, nearly, her hair was spread through the white pillow in contrast to her golden pink thick curls. He pokes what he assumes is her shoulder, his action repeats in a motion of swaying her back and having her body maneuver back to its original position. "Mom, wake up. Dad says you're sleeping the day away." "Nooo... So comfy." The woman groans as she buries herself deeper into the warm covers she longs to connect with. "Mom." Junior deadpanned calls. His expression was a look of mild annoyance but a sneaky plan formed in his mind last second. "Dad's eating your chocolate-chip pie." Silence. "Can I have a minute, Junior?" She made no action to move yet her voice sounded much wider awake, Junior left the room, closing the door behind him and made his way downstairs, she'll catch up. Junior hears the door open and quickly close and outcomes running is his Dad's wife and his and his siblings' Mom, Averie. All of her custom dresses were simple and breezy, King Bowser finally gave him on her outfits, she seems happy to wear something loose and flexible, Averie told him that Bowser used to think that she would sneak away at night but having on such restricting garments would make escaping difficult for her unless she stripped down and that would be obvious of her actions but now the two have reached that step of trust. He's so proud of his Dad. "Where is your father?" Averie stumps for off in her heels strapped at her ankles for grip. "Outside in the Garden!" Averie took off in a marathon, the servants and occupations continue on with their day, not a one-bit concern for the heavy footsteps fast approaching and quickly fleeting away. The castle sure is lively now more than over, they wonder why it wasn't like that before, why did a human girl from a different world have to come and make that change? The desire for the answer didn't linger long before everyone 's mind went elsewhere. Junior arrives downstairs towards the front entrance of the Castle, he opens the door just as Averie's voice rang through the green grounds of the Garden growing off the side of the Castle. "Bowser! Where's my pie?!" Heavy, Very Heavy footsteps shake the grounds as he can barely see his Father fleeing deeper inside the Maze of roses. Averie quickly finds him, the stomps end. King Bowser has just finished savoring the pie he has taken from the kitchen, oh his wife- tasty pie, good pie. He loves her chocolate-chip pies the best, no question. Too bad he's going to get into trouble for not sharing it like it was intended for and she slaved so hard in the kitchen the night before to prepare it just right, he would felt guilty if it weren't worth eating. Maybe he can try recreating it so he'll be in less trouble. "BOWSER!" His flaming red eyebrows nearly extend off his face, his spine stiffens as he hears the voice he loves so much scream his name in bloody-murder. And today I die She was approaching closer, Bowser didn't consider hiding deeper inside the Maze, but he didn't feel he needed to, he was sure he had time to even hide the evidence... unless. Junior's snark smirk filled his thought bubble. Traitor! He told her! He took off, leaving the empty crumble foil pan on deserted on the ground. Averie is fast approaching now. He can feel her presence climbing his spiked shell. Here it comes. Having been romantic with her for awhile Bowser has come to where rope around his shell so she'll have something grab, especially since his arms are far much wider for her to grab. She stepped on his tail as leverage and roped her way up to his shoulder, Bowser was too big for the tight space and not all that fast compared to his wife. He falls on his stomach, defeated as she grips his horns in victory, he looks to the side of his eye to see she one again isn't dressed like a Queen of the Koopas, having natural bed head curls crown her face, skin clear of the drool that always cakes the side of her lip and eyes for reasons only he knows, yet she stands as graceful as a Goddess, Bowser has never witness beauty such as this and he prays he is the only lucky man to see all of it. "Bowser, you ate the pie! I made that today's dinner with the Princess!" She pouts as she leans close, her frame blocks the sun from him, darkening his sights as he glances up, he cares not for eating that Delicious pie but the upset tone she uses telling him he done wrong, twist his stomach. She remains on top of him, legs on either side of his shoulders as if to keep him pin but he and her as well as everyone knows that's impossible but he plays submission from time to time to make her feel better. Her fragrance, he finally inhales when the pie's smell faze from his nostrils. Her scent is hers and his, such an intoxicating aroma. He grows excited, no! Bad! Not now, Now you're in trouble. "I'm sorry, My Love but you know how weak I am to your desserts." He uses play on words. "No! That's not okay, you know how hard I worked on it and how I was gonna show off, why didn't you just eat the other ones? I made your favorite Cinnamon Peach, knowing you were gonna try something like this." She pulls at his horns as 'punishment' poor girl, she's only digging herself in deeper. "I didn't see it." He lied. True, Cinnamon Peach pie was his favorite, he had Peach's name in it and Bowser order Averie to bake it for him whenever he failed his mission, which was nearly every other day. Dark days indeed, how she would work for hours, sleep rarely and looked like a piece of trash took form. How he hates the old him for treating her like he did. His desire for Peach nearly cost him a Happy Ending but that all changed when she intentionally went against his wishes of another pie to the Chocolate-chip that fell in love with, it was also her favorite as well. "Liar." Call out. Her face gets closer. She stares down to his huge yellow lips before meeting his eyes again. "Stop lying." "Okay" "Don't say Okay then do it again." "Okay" "Bowser!" King Koopa, reaches an arm, gripping her ankle and pulling her under him. She doesn't fight it, he always reclaims his position as 'Top' when he feels she had enough of being Bossy to the King. She folds her arms under her chest, prepping them up with a squeeze. "Over it yet?" He asks, voice powerful and in control. No response, she moves her head to the side with a huff. Bad move. Bowser has grown to love the fight she puts up. It was different and unique. He opens his fangs and gently nip the skin of the meeting of her shoulder and neck, she shivers at the pleasant love bite, she relaxes her arms, positioning herself in a much comfortable; Legs spread apart in a loose spread out pose, her arms bend over her head to wrap his biceps keeping his upper body from crushing her. He pulls himself closer to the ground to nip her again, she shivers at the contact. This tiny woman, that hasn't cringe at his touch and advances just so willingly complies to his love. He really did miss this chance. He hasn't taken much thought to why. He was just longing for a woman in his and his children's lives, that why she would ever never crossed him, even as the two make sneaky love making out in the open of the garden. He can't figure out where this passion came from. He never had these feelings for Peach, of course, he wanted her, he loved her but this activity has never crossed him when he thought of her. Enough comparing the two, there's only one and she's lying under me right now. The Queen and King receive and gives each other a longing kiss in the middle of a Hot day, luckily Bower's huge form shadows hers from the impossible heat. She pulls away, always the one to be out of breath first, she pushes at his chest to separate the two. "Okay, I forgive you, Now let's go back inside. I have to remake a pie." She suggests. After all this, Bowser had other plans. "Not right now. You have something to take care of first." He states out lustfully to his beautiful and submissive Queen.

#Bowser x reader #king bowser #oc insert #bowser x oc #queen #chocolate pie #junior #bowser jr #mario villian #fire turtle #turtle man x female #monster x human #demination separation #beast x human

[crimeronan]

happy birthday goblin!

so @gutterwatergoblin / @stainedglassgoblin had a birthday recently, and since they have drawn some GORGEOUS art for my writing & have also made the ancestors fandom even better than it was, i figured it was time 2 repay them with a nice thing

the answer to “what would you want an ancestor minific of” was “pale psiignless”................. i’m being.  Enabled

originally i was like “this is gonna be 300 to 500 words MAX” but wordcounter tells me it is over 1500 words so.  oops

anyway happy birthday!!  i hope u like this small snapshot of pale hurt/comfort nonsense

-

The second night Psii refuses to leave his cabin, you start to get scared.

He’s been with the group for a little less than two perigrees.  Despite his initial insistence that he’d “head out” and “stop mooching off you guys” once he found a suitable place to stay, he hasn’t sought a home in any of the three villages you’ve last docked at, even the ones with high populations of free lowbloods.  

Given the delight with which he’s taken to having his own cabin and filling it with collections of shiny but worthless trinkets, scraps of fabric, worn pillows, and pieces of hardware you don’t understand but he apparently does, you think he maybe doesn’t want to leave, which would be… more than okay with you.  He’s full of light and energy and intelligence and observations and a newly-voiced perspective that you’d happily continue listening to for the rest of your life.

But he hasn’t left his cabin for two nights.

You are, as a general rule, an advocate of private spaces.  Private land is questionable, but in your opinion, every troll has a right to a space of their own that is safe from anyone they don’t want to enter.  You also double down on this principle when it comes to Psii.  It’s -- important, for you, and for him.  It’s important that you don’t take things away from him.  He has lived his entire life with everything about his body and energy and mind subject to other people’s desires.  He still has trouble understanding that he can say no to touch or even general conversation.

It would be a special kind of cruelty, you think, to tell him that he can have a safe place and then rip it away from him.

So you haven’t barged into his cabin to ask what’s going on.  You have politely knocked at intervals and walked away when he calls back that he’s fine.  But it’s -- it’s not like Psii, is the thing.  His behavior can sometimes change like the tides, and his level of extroversion varies depending on his mood swings, but this is the first time he’s isolated entirely.  He doesn’t tend to miss meals (also has trouble remembering he’s allowed to take food from the galley outside a preset schedule), nor does he miss opportunities to climb the mainmast and declare himself Emperor of your newly-founded naval country.

He hasn’t eaten any of the food you’ve left outside the door, trays of dried jerky and preserved fruits in sealed bags, and that worries you worse than anything.

You rap your knuckles gently against the door, feel your pusher squeeze painfully when all you get in response is a low grunt.

“Psii?” you call, pitching your voice gentle but loud enough to carry through the door.  “Could I come in?  It’s okay if I can’t, but I’d like to see you, if that’s all right.”

A long pause.  Then his voice sounds, a low croak you can barely make out.  “You can come in.”

You keep your movements steady and measured as you open the door and slip inside, because you don’t want to frighten him with franticness.  The first thing you notice is the heavy weight of static in the air.  It feels like the oppressive weight just before a thunderstorm, except it’s localized to this one specific closed-off portion of the ship.  You don’t see Psii in the main room -- not by the stack of crates that serves as a desk, or in the pile of linens and laundry, or in the recuperacoon, or sprawled out with a mortal injury on the floor.

You push open the door of the small adjoining ablution block, and ah.  Here he is.  He’s curled up tight in the tub, on his side with his forehead pressed to his knees.  There’s no water surrounding him, but he has tucked his favorite blanket around himself, a pale silver fabric that ripples like starlight.  It’s silky on one side, the other sewn with softness, which he’s pulled up and tucked over one ear.

You sit down on the floor beside the tub.  His eyes are closed (though still luminescent behind the lids), but you think it’s a good idea to be on similar levels in situations like this.

“Hey,” you say.

You’re watching his face with an intensity that’s probably too much, but it’s hard to keep your voice light if you can’t funnel your worry into a different sense.  So you see the ripple up his back and through his muscles, his cheek and jaw twitching involuntarily before he whispers, “Hey.”

You don’t touch him -- you do not touch him without asking first, that’s one of the rules.  But you do gently rest one arm on the edge of the tub.  “You’re not feeling well, huh?”

His mouth pulls down at the corners.  He manages, through an impossible feat of physics and spine bending, to curl up even tighter.  After another endless moment, he mumbles, “‘Snot contagious.”

“I wasn’t worried it was,” you assure him.  “Do you - do you know what it is?”

“Yeah,” he says.  He opens his eyes and tries to focus on you, hazy, but a spasm of pain contorts his face and he squeezes them shut again.  You wait for him to elaborate, but after another half minute of silence, all he manages is, “I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong, honeybee.”  The nickname comes without thought, makes you flush from your cheekbones to your ears, but his body relaxes slightly.

“I get sick sometimes,” he whispers.  “In my head.  Pain.  But it’s okay.  I’m not gonna… please don’t make me go.”

Your pusher clenches again, clamps a fist around your lungs.  You exhale carefully around the ache, inhale.  “Mituna,” you start, using his hatch so he knows you mean business.  Despite yourself, your voice threatens to crack, so you take another steadying breath.

“I can be so good,” he murmurs, earnest now, mistaking your pause for displeasure.  “Please.”

“I’m not gonna make you go anywhere.  No one is.  You have a home here as long as you want it.”  That reassurance comes quick and easy, at least.  “...Do you have to stay in the ablution trap?”

He sort of shrugs, inasmuch as a person can shrug when curled up on their side incapacitated by pain.  “In case I throw up,” he says.

Ah.  Now the situation makes sense.  He’s shut himself up in the easiest place to clean so he won’t inconvenience anyone with his illness, but he’s brought his favorite blanket to have comfort to cling to.  It’s the kind of thing that reeks of learned behavior.  You wonder how many times he’s had to hide and make himself small with episodes like this in the past -- but that line of thought is only going to make you upset and furious at trolls far outside your influence, so you put it aside.

“It doesn’t seem very comfortable,” you say.  “Do you want to move out to your pile?  It’s okay if you get sick.  I’ll take care of it, I promise.  That’s part of the whole community thing.  Taking care of each other.”

His arms are wrapped around his knees, the blanket tangled beneath them, but you see the fingers on one hand flex like he wants to knead something with his claws.  “I don’t think I can move.”

“Okay.”  You tap your fingers idly on the tub while you ponder solutions.  “How about I bring your pillows in here, then?  And your fabrics?”

His red eye opens a slit, looking you over, maybe instinctively checking for signs of annoyance and insincerity.  “I’d like that,” he says finally.

Having something to do, physically, to ease the pain -- that’s good.  The methodical motions of bringing in soft materials help to calm the worst of your jitters.  You help arrange the cushioning around him until he’s swathed in a veritable cocoon of coziness, infinitely better than the hard ceramic of the tub.

By the time you’re done, he’s uncurled himself part of the way, and he’s breathing easier.  The static is still heavy in the air, and the pain clearly hasn’t abated, but the worst of the tension through his shoulders and neck has relaxed.

You need to ask him to drink water; he’s probably dehydrated, and that can’t be helping his head.  But you’re worried about pushing him too fast when he’s only just relaxed, so instead you ask, “Is there anything I can do?  To help with the pain?”

He’s silent for such a long time that you think he may have somehow fallen asleep.  That, or he can’t think of anything, and you should grab the water flask for lack of other practical solutions.  But then he says, “Rub my horns?”

Which is an easy and actionable task.  Your relief at being allowed to touch him is just because you like helping people, and you do not need to examine it deeper.

Except when you bury a hand in his curls and scritch at his horns, he nudges his head into your hand with a tiny chirring croon that sounds like natural music, and.

Your pusher kind of does a flip that you just know Di would describe in prose as “pale as the blazing desert sands at high noon.”

Oh no.

#psiignless #suffpsii #my writing #hurt/comfort #sickfic #sort of

[imaginesmai]

Ubbe-Lagertha’s Daughter (3)

I’m just gonna say, this part is hard. I hope you don’t kill me after this. Also, thank you for all your kind comments and likes, love you!!

Plot: Ubbe has made a choice. But, is it the right one? Maybe he is not ready to face the consequences.

Warnings: HEAVY angst. Dark!Ivar. Rape.

Time passed by quickly, and soon everyone in Kattegat was getting used to having a new queen. Lagertha wanted to make Kattegat bigger, and she was achieving in by building big walls around it and developing even more the trading. You worked all day in the construction on the defences, but that didn’t help you to forget about Ubbe. Torvi was busy now that your half-brother was back, Astrid was always following Lagertha like a new couple in love, and the brothers were all chasing the new slave, Margarethe. You didn’t like her; she was lazy when it came to work, didn’t knew how to respect your mother and manipulated all the soldiers so she got everything she wanted. Even Ivar, who you had thought to be the smartest one, had laid with her not so long ago.

Morning came and with it started your daily routine. You got up, washed yourself, ate with your mother in the great hall and went to work under the sun. That day had been particularly sunny, so after a few hours you left the gate to drink something and rest under the shadow of a tree. You were admiring the summer colours when someone sat next to you.

-          It surprise me that you are still as small as you were when I left.

-          I wonder sometimes how Torvi stands you. You must be a beast in bed in order to cope with you all day. -you told Bjorn.

-          I am quite a catch, if you ask me. -you didn’t speak, so he continued. -I heard what happened with Aslaug.

-          Don’t want to talk about it. -you hugged your knees with your hands, putting your chin on them.

-          But I do. It was not your fault, stop beating yourself over him. If he doesn’t want you anymore, find yourself another man.

-          Bjorn, I just want him. -it was the first time you spoke to him about it. -He was going to marry me, and now I can’t see where I am going without him.

-          Then find yourself. He tried to kill you, and Ivar did to. My brothers will try it again, and I won’t be there always to stop it.

-          I just want an easy life, why is that so difficult? -you cried.

-          Lagertha is your mother, there is not easy life for us sister.

You hugged him before he left, and you followed him to the gate. Once you were there, you saw Ubbe walking towards you. Everyone stopped and Astrid put her hand in her sword, in case he tried anything. However, he didn’t talk to you, he walked to Margarethe and took her hands between his. The tears covered your eyes and a white sound filled your ears, but you heard it clearly; the prince had just freed Margarethe and was going to marry her. You didn’t register your mother’s voice saying that it wasn’t his right to free slaves, you just noticed your steps carrying you to somewhere else.

Your feet took you to the barn where you locked Ubbe, where everything started. That didn’t make any good to your breathing which was quick and not deep enough. Voices could be heard outside, probably your mother or Astrid looking for you; you moved yourself further into the barn, so they couldn’t find you. It seemed like hours passed and you couldn’t stop crying, with your hand in your chest and your body curled in a ball. Just then, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle, and a rancid breath over your face.

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Ubbe had been busy planning the attack against the Saxons, but every now and then he found himself thinking about you. He missed you, but when he thought about going back to you the memory of his death mother came back to him. Deep inside he knew that it wasn’t your fault, that you were just trying to make things right between your mother and his. And Sigurd took care of reminding him that every day.

-          I saw her this morning. -Hvitserk said out of nowhere. -Told her about the things I saw in the Mediterranean and gave her some things I found. But she didn’t look at them, she just smiled and left.

-          Y/N shouldn’t even look your way, brother. -Ivar said, while playing with an old knife. -She is ashamed of what she did and deserves everything that comes her way.

-          When are you going to grow up, Ivar? -Sigurd asked angrily. -We have punished her enough not talking to her for a while, but we all know that’s over now.

-          I don’t blame her. -all of the brothers turned to look at Hvitserk. -What? It’s not like she cared a lot about us. I mean, Ubbe, she nearly let us drown in ice!

-          She is our mother. -Ubbe whispered.

-          You know nothing Hvitserk! She loved us!

-          Then why she only looked after you, Ivar? -Sigurd said without looking at him.

-          You are a disgrace for her memory! I will avenge her, you hear me? I will make Lagertha suffer and I will make Y/N regret being born.

The chair where Ubbe was sitting fell to the floor, and suddenly Ivar was pinned in the wall with Ubbe’s hand around his throat, while trying to breath. The oldest prince’s glare was murderous and he was lifting Ivar with just one hand.

-          Watch your words brother. -Sigurd and Hvitserk got up, ready to step if thing got ugly.

-          Now you act like the worried lover Ubbe? Don’t you remember that she locked you in a barn while she killed your mother.

-          I know it very well. -he said between his teeth. -But I think she has suffered enough, as Sigurd said.

-          If I didn’t know better, I would say you are growing weak again, uh? -Ubbe let him fall to the ground.

-          You better not lay a hand on her, brother.

-          Like you did? You are not some type of knight in shinny armour! You tried to kill her too, you just were too coward to finish her.

-          Shut up! -he shouted, surprising everyone including himself.

-          You are going to marry Margarethe, Ubbe. -Sigurd gave voice to everyone’s thoughts. -You might want to reconsider it.

-          Why? So that you can have her again Sigurd? I’m not an idiot, I know each one of you have fucked her.

-          Ubbe, we just want the best for you. -Hvitserk said. Being away from you was getting into his brother.

-          Y/N is not that. -Ivar said, with venom in his voice. – I don’t like Margarethe, but it’s better to marry a whore than a killer, isn’t it?

Ubbe left the cabin without looking back, hearing his brothers from behind him. He knew that his wedding with the slave was not out of love. Margarethe was a beautiful girl, but even if she was nicer to him than she was to anyone else, the prince noticed her sick desire of having power. Since Ivar came, he had been letting himself be dragged by the rage of his actions, and he had hidden himself in drinking. He heard then the sound of the horn, that meant that they were under attack. His first instinct was to look for you, but he knew that it wasn’t his place anymore. Ubbe ran towards the great hall, killing a few soldiers in his way. Lagertha was there, fighting some man herself. When she saw him, your mother ran towards him.

-          Where are your brothers?

-          In the cabin. -Ubbe blocked a sword with his shield and attacked back. -They should have heard the horn and might be fighting somewhere else.

-          We need them here. -Lagertha said while killing a woman behind him.

-          Are the slaves safe? -he didn’t want to ask that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to ask about you.

-          They let them in, Ubbe.

-          What? -he nearly got killed when he stopped to look at her, but Astrid saved his life.

-          Some slave let the soldiers in.

-          Who? -when Lagertha said nothing. -Did you not hear me woman? Who let them in?

-          Was Margarethe with you after your proposal? Because she wasn’t picking her things from the slave’s house.

-          You have some nerve talking like that about my future wife Lagertha.

-          She made me promise her that I wasn’t going to kill Aslaug. -she stopped for a moment, and around them the battle disappeared. – I’m not going to say that I am sorry because I’m not. Your mother took everything away from me. But she didn’t do anything, Ubbe.

-          You know nothing! -he shouted.

-          I was going to kill you! That was the original plan, to kill your mother and to kill you all. But she begged to me not to do it. For you, Ubbe.

-          She locked me-

-          You would have done the same to protect her. I was going to kill you, get that in your stupid head boy.

Lagertha kept fighting, but for Ubbe everything seemed to play in slow motion. Margarethe had betrayed him, sold him like a dog to the enemies. And you were just trying to protect him.

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The sound of the horn must had been lost between your sobs, so when that man pulled you with him it was too late for you. You didn’t recognize him from Kattegat. He was very big and tall and had a scar that ruined his face. His eyes were the scarier things you ever saw; they were green, and full of lust and desire for you.

-          I thought you said she was pretty. -the man’s rough voice said.

-          Well, she is. At least when she is not crying for my brother. -Ivar’s voice surprised you. He was sitting in a block of a straw, looking at you with fun in his eyes.

-          Ivar. -you pleaded. -Ivar, what’s going on?

-          You are pathetic Y/N. -he spat.

-          What?

-          My mother is dead because of you, Y/N. -he said the same way someone explain thing to a small child.

-          Ivar, please. -you weren’t sure what was going to happen. -I’m sorry…I begged my mother not-

-          I don’t care.

You were going to open your mouth again, but a disgusting rag was placed in it. The man in front of you moved his hands under your dress, and just then you realized that your hand were bound. Muffled screams were leaving your mouth while the man moved his hands up your tights, and soon they found your underwear.

-          Don’t look at me like that. -Ivar said with pretended sorry. – I wish I could help you, but I’m just an orphan crippled.

Tears were falling from your eyes again. The mysterious man had managed to get down your underwear, and you could feel his rough hand poking at your entrance. His fingers were replaced by his cock, making you feel like you were being cut in a half. You weren’t a virgin, Ubbe and you used to be very active in bed, but he always made sure to get you wet. The man had driven into you without care. The only thing that could be heard in the barn was the loud moans of the man, your low cries and the sound of both bodies moving. He started to kiss your neck, leaving painful hickies there. You thought it was over when you felt him spilling his seed in you, but you were wrong. A group of men appeared in the barn, untying their trousers and touching themselves while looking at you. In the corner of your eye, you saw Ivar moving until he was in front of you.

-          I loved her. -he had tears in his eyes. -You were my friend, Y/N, and it really pains me to do this. But it’s necessary. -Ivar took out a knife and broke your dress with it. -Ubbe might not see it yet. I do. You are just like a pig, you used my brother to get close to us. -he ran the knife between the valley of your breasts. – Maybe I should brand you, just like I do with the pigs that are going to be killed.

You tried to move, but he pressed the knife to your chest. Ubbe had told you about the Christian religion, how they believed in a god that died for them. They talked about something called hell, where bad people burned until dead. That night, you felt like you were in hell itself.

#vikings imagine #vikings #viking #vikings x reader #lagertha #lagerthasdaughter #ubbe x reader #ubbe imagine #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe #ubbe one shot #angst #imaginemai #dark!ivar