#(I should start tagging my characters this way-- after 2 years I finally realize this)

[most-tragic-character-tournament]

So,

What a wild ride, everybody.

This tournament went live on July 13th, 3023, and concluded January 1st, 2024. For a long time before, I’d been wondering if I should try my hand at running one of these tournaments, and then I realized we hadn’t had a general tumblr-wide one for tragic characters. I knew that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I decided to bite the bullet and take the URL. The rest is history.

I didn’t have a set plan, but I figured I could take 128 entries. And then in less than a week and a half, I had ~122. And honestly, I wasn’t happy continuing with just those I’d gotten so far, and thought it’d be unfair if it closed that quickly without warning, so I decided to up it to 256 with a max 2 characters per canon after preliminaries. Only after that did I go on a mad search to find brackets that were big enough for that, and I’d almost given up before I finally found these:

Those are all the characters that made it past prelims and into the competition. Some quite unexpected results came out of these matchups, round after round, and honestly I’d consider the first round to have had the most brutal competitions, because I had tried to do the best I could to match levels of popularity with each other, as far as I could tell. (Yeah, that’s why we had c!Tommy v Jon Sims and Primrose v Jinx.). But even eclipsing all of those, as the weeks went on, we were eventually met with Antigone versus Lloyd Garmadon. Ah, those crazy kids.

At some points it was stressful, in the early rounds when I had dozens of posts, each with edited images and alt text, to prepare for every round, but I never regretted starting this. As of posting, this blog has 2,020 followers and has made over 1,000 posts. This will be the last post on this blog—any future asks I receive I will answer privately back to the asker, or cannot be answered if they are anon—but it will always remain here for posterity. The link below is to the similarly-preserved google sheet compiling every word of every submission this tournament ever received.

I’d like to take this chance to say thank you to everyone who submitted characters, supplied photos, sent in propaganda, reblogged the polls, indoctrinated their teachers into greeklitsweep, and everyone who kept good sportsmanship when their blorbos proved so tragic they couldn’t even win. Thank you to the small group of URLs whom I’ve consistently recognized in my inbox from submissions all the way to finals, thank you for letting me know when a name was messed up, and thank you for your patience in-between rounds. (Shoutout to @elemom as well for having their tiktok on the original antigone/lloyd poll blow up.)

If you’ve stumbled upon this blog weeks, months, or even years after this was posted, I would direct your attention to the tag map in the pinned post to sift through the tumblr history you’ve just uncovered. And I would also be tempted to point at the big sign next to it reciting the nuclear zone warning poem. Lastly, if anyone here or there wishes to talk to me about anything regarding the tournament, you’re welcome to DM @twilight-skies.

There were times when I said to myself this was a one-and-done thing—I was NOT dealing with this again, but….keep a look on the horizon, ya never know.

But until next time, it’s been amazing.

Sayonara you weeaboo shits.

#most tragic character tournament #most tragic tournament #tumblr polls #polls #important #gifs

[ally-writes-many-things]

Home For The Holidays Part 2 (X. Riorson)

Summary: You return home for Christmas with Xaden who is pretending to be your date.

Words: 2.4K

Warnings or A/N: So I changed it from Garrick to Dain because I love Garrick and I didn't want to write Garrick like that. And yes I did incorporate some Fourth Wing characters. Part 3 should be when things start to pick up. I just wanted to do the family introductions first.

Tags: @daisydark @ablev92 @luxsky @graciereads @heyyitsnat21 @honeybee54321 @amazingdisneyfansblog @wallacewillow0773638

Art Credit here

Part 1

Xaden extended his hand for a handshake, by which your mom graciously accepted. "Hello, Mrs. Jess. How are you?" he greeted her politely.

You glanced back and forth between your mom and Xaden, a nervous excitement bubbling within you. "Mom, this is Xaden. He's my date tonight. Xaden, meet my mom, Jess," you introduced them.

She waved off his formal address. "No need for formalities. You can call me Mom, just like everyone else does," she insisted.

Xaden nodded respectfully. "Yes, ma'am," he replied.

Feeling the chill in the air, you looked at your mom with a playful smile. "Are you going to let us in? It's getting quite cold out here," you teased.

Your mom's attention shifted from Xaden to you, realizing that you were still standing outside. "Oh, goodness. I apologize. Please, come inside," she said, stepping aside to make way for both of you.

With a thoughtful gesture, Xaden effortlessly picked up his luggage with one hand and then grabbed yours with the other. "You'll be staying in your old bedroom. And, by the way, Xaden can sleep..." She began, but you interrupted.

"He can sleep in the same room as you," you nonchalantly finished your sentence. "We're both adults, after all."

A smile of understanding crossed your mom's face. "Oh, yes, of course. That's absolutely fine," she agreed, leading the way towards your room.

You paused, gazing at your mom with a determined expression. "Mom, I appreciate it, but I don't need any help. I know exactly where my room is," you assured her.

She seemed slightly taken aback but nodded understandingly. "Alright, then. I'll go and let your stepfather and your siblings know that you're here," she said, turning to head downstairs.

As soon as she disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath and began walking in the direction you knew so well. "It's this way," you whispered to Xaden, following the familiar path towards your room.

Xaden glanced at you with a hint of concern. "That seemed a bit harsh, sending your mom away like that," he commented.

You shrugged, a knowing smile playing on your lips. "Trust me, with my mom, you kind of need to be assertive or she won't stop," you explained, understanding the dynamics of your relationship with your mother.

Finally, you reached your room and noticed that the door was already open. Thankfully, during your last visit, you had taken down all the remnants of your teenage years on the walls and replaced them with the old bedding with new bedding. The bed itself was still in great condition, so there was no need to buy a new one. However, almost everything else in the room was new, except for your dressers. You still had your old teenage belongings like CDs, diaries, posters, and pictures buried in the closet. But everything displayed on the walls, except for a picture of you and your best friend taped on the mirror, reflected the adult you had become.

Xaden chuckled, his eyes scanning your room. "Damn, I was really hoping to catch a glimpse of teenage Buttercup," he teased, his tone filled with playful nostalgia.

You rolled your eyes, playfully exasperated, and closed the door behind you. Walking over to your dresser, you opened a drawer and swiftly moved your clothes to another one, making space for Xaden to place his belongings. You carefully selected a shirt and a pair of sleep pants, preparing them for your attire tonight. "You can use this one, if you want," You offered, gesturing to the now empty drawer. "The bathroom is through that door if you need to change,”

Unzipping your bag, you revealed a selection of holiday dresses, a few books, and a pair of man red and white pajamas. As you flung the pajamas in Xaden's direction, he skillfully caught them. "I must admit, I took a wild guess at your size, considering you're roughly the same size as my brother," You confessed with a playful grin.

Xaden, raising an eyebrow in a teasing manner, couldn't help but quip, "So, let me guess, you went ahead and got us matching pajamas, didn't you?”

"It's for the Christmas photos. Like most families, we all dress in matching pajamas and take pictures," you explained.

"Oh. Okay. Cool," He responded, heading towards your dresser to put away his belongings. "Do you have any extra blankets and pillows? I can make a pallet on the floor,”

You chuckled. "Xaden, I know we're pretending here, but I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor. You can sleep in the bed with me. There's plenty of space, and we're adults. I think we can handle it."

"I wasn't expecting that answer," Xaden mused.

"Why?" You asked.

"I don't know. You just seem like the kind of girl who wouldn't be like that," Xaden replied.

You rolled your eyes. "There's a lot about me that you don't know, Riorson."

"I guess so. When am I supposed to change into these?" he asked, holding up the pajamas.

"Christmas Day. We just sleep in them," you clarified.

You retrieved your chosen nightwear from the bed, holding them in your hands as you made your way towards the bathroom. "I'll go change now," you announced, intending to have some privacy.

"You can change in here, it's your bedroom after all," Xaden suggested, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, playfully dismissing his suggestion. "You wish," you replied, heading into the bathroom.

Upon emerging from the bathroom, you noticed that Xaden was still dressed in his daytime clothes. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look. "You could have changed while I was in there," you pointed out.

He shrugged, offering his reasoning. "I'd rather not meet your family in pajamas, even if they're okay with it. This is your family's house, after all."

You sighed, trying to reassure him. "Xaden, I've told you before, my family isn't judgmental. They won't mind. Trust me."

He nodded, acknowledging your words, but still seemed hesitant. "I know, but still…”

You nodded, acknowledging Xaden's response. "Your choice. Alright, even though I already gave you a rundown on the plane, let's go over it again," you suggested.

You listened attentively as he began to recap. "Your father is Issac. Your brothers are Brennan, Ridoc, and Sawyer. Your sisters are Mira and Quinn. Brennan is married to Imogen, and they have two kids named Lilith and Chris. Ridoc is married to Rhiannon, and they have one child named Lance. Mira and Sawyer are currently single. Lastly, Quinn is in a relationship with Lynn, and they are in the process of adoption," He explained.

You nodded, confirming his understanding. "Correct. Don't worry about aunts and uncles then. I can introduce you to them as they come. So, are you ready to meet my family?" You asked.

He smiled, "Absolutely. Let's go,"

With a deep breath, you braced yourself before turning the doorknob and venturing into the hallway. The living room awaited you at the bottom, a familiar space where you knew you would find your sisters. Your stepfather and brothers are in their man cave.

As you reached the final step, you instinctively reached out for Xaden's hand. A smile graced his lips as he intertwined his fingers with yours. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, awakening every nerve in your body and heightening your senses. "I think my sisters are in the living room. Let's go meet them first," you suggested, your voice filled with anticipation.

Xaden nodded in agreement, allowing you to lead the way. Together, you walked past the kitchen where your mom was busy. Her voice called out, breaking the silence, "Are you two hungry?" You glanced back at Xaden, silently questioning him.

He shook his head, his eyes filled with contentment. "No, we're fine," he replied, his voice filled with assurance.

Dragging him into the living room, just as you had anticipated, your sisters sat there in their pajamas, their eyes shifting from the TV to you and Xaden, their jaws hitting the floor. "Damn. Mom was right," Rhannion blurted out.

"Rhi, you're married," you reminded her.

Rhannion had been a part of your family since she was a child, so regardless of Ridoc being married to her or not, she would always be considered family. "I know," she replied.

Your other sisters rose from the couch, embracing you tightly, causing you to let go of Xaden's hand. "It's so good to see you back home," they exclaimed.

"Yeah, you too," you responded, returning their warm hugs.

They refused to release their tight grip on you, holding on for a few minutes until you finally managed to extricate yourself from their embrace. Placing a hand on Xaden's shoulder, you introduced him to your sisters Quinn and Mira, as well as your sister-in-law Rhiannon. "This is my boyfriend Xaden," you announced.

"Hi," They all chimed in unison.

Just as you were about to continue the introductions, your brother Ridoc appeared, immediately grabbing hold of Xaden's arm and pulling him towards the man cave. "Hey girls, what- Oh, you must be Xaden. Dad is waiting to meet you," Ridoc informed, his urgency evident.

"Wait, Ridoc," you called out, trying to catch up with them.

Ridoc halted and turned to face you. "Sorry, sis. You know the rules. No women-"

"Allowed in the man cave, I know," You interrupted, finishing his sentence. "But I wanted to take him to dad first, so I know you guys won't-"

Xaden intervened, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It's okay. I can go.”

You firmly grasped Xaden's arm as it slipped off your shoulder, shaking your head in defiance. "No. No one is going to dictate how you meet Xaden. It's my choice how you all meet him. If Dad or anyone else doesn't like it, tough luck, because I don't care," You declared, locking eyes with Ridoc.

"Alright, I'll go get them," Ridoc conceded, sensing your determination.

Xaden glanced at you, and you instinctively intertwined your fingers with his. Each touch of his skin against yours sent a surge of electricity through your body.

Footsteps approached, and you turned your head to see your stepfather, Ridoc, Brennan, and Sawyer walking towards you. "So you're the one who refused to come to us," Your stepfather remarked.

You turned fully towards him, meeting his gaze head-on. "Xaden didn't refuse anything. I did. Not him. And if you have a problem with it, well, that's on you. Not us," You asserted, standing your ground.

You and your stepfather locked eyes for a brief moment, a silent exchange of curiosity and uncertainty. His gaze then shifted towards Xaden, and he couldn't help but comment, "You do realize you could have changed into pajamas before joining us, right?"

Xaden blinked, a hint of confusion clouding his expression, but he chose to brush it off. "Yeah, (Name) mentioned that, but I didn't really feel at ease meeting you all for the first time in my sleepwear," he explained, shrugging off any discomfort.

As the silence lingered, your stepfather broke it by introducing himself, "Well, I'm Doug."

Each member of the family followed suit, with your middle brother chiming in, "Ridoc," and your oldest brother adding, "Brennan." The youngest brother, not one to be left out, piped up, "Sawyer." Finally, it was Xaden's turn to introduce himself, simply stating his name.

Your stepfather's eyebrows furrowed slightly as he continued, "To be honest, we weren't expecting (Name) to bring anyone home, or even that she was seeing someone."

Xaden chuckled, breaking the tension with a light-hearted tone. "Yeah, it's a bit of a whirlwind. I literally just returned from a work trip, and we officially became a couple a few days ago. With nowhere to go for the holidays, she kindly invited me to join your family. I hope that's alright with everyone."

Just as the words left Xaden's lips, your mom emerged from the kitchen, holding steaming mugs of hot cocoa. Her warm smile illuminated the room as she reassured, "Of course it is! We're thrilled to have you here."

Her welcoming gesture and comforting words instantly put everyone at ease, melting away any lingering doubts or reservations.

#fourth wing #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #xaden riorson x you #iron flame

[youhideastar]

Deastar’s 5 Most Re-Read Fics of Last Year

My New Year’s resolution was to rec more, so I’m starting with my 5 most re-read fics of the past year!

1 and 2: Blooded Crown and Misethere by Astolat (The Witcher)

Look, I don’t even go here. I’m not even in this fandom. I first read these before the TV show had come out, and let me tell you, it made said TV show very disappointing. But I have re-read these two fics (they’re not related to each other but they’re similar enough that I’ve grouped them together) probably 10 times each over the years. I absolutely fucking love their twisty-ass plots. I love the “what if Wolverine and Machiavelli fell in love” takes on the characters. I love the combination of humor and deadly serious political shit going down. I have a problem and it’s that I can’t stop reading these fics and probably never will.

3: i’ll be your girl by plonk (The Untamed/MDZS, ~30K)

This fic is everything. It’s funny. It will make your heart sore and tender. It has smoking hot sex scene after smoking hot sex scene. It’s pining while fucking (top three trope for me!). It has the absolute most ridiculous premise, and then executes it beyond your wildest dreams, never losing sight of how ridiculous it is. Said premise: Wei Ying seduces Lan Zhan, who he thinks is straight, while dressed up as Britney Spears for Halloween. They continue to hook up, with Wei Ying in a series of themed seasonal drag outfits, while Wei Ying falls in doomed love with a straight guy (or so he thinks), and Lan Zhan tries to figure out what the hell is going on but is too gone on Wei Ying to stop. My all-time comfort object fic.

4: All Old Things Are New Again by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (@thefeelswhale) (The Untamed/MDZS, ~52K)

This fic is WAY too long to be a habitual re-read, but that never stops me. “Full-time necromancer and part-time cam boy, Wei Wuxian, finds himself unexpectedly homeless. An enthusiastic patron comes to his rescue. Conversely: Immortal Cultivator Lan Wangji has been waiting a long time for his deceased husband to be reincarnated again. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that this is how it would go.” It is SO satisfying to watch Wei Wuxian slowly lower his (very reasonably raised!) guard and let Lan Wangji take care of him; in many fics, that trope ends up stripping away Wei Wuxian’s inherent badassery, but not here: this Wei Wuxian is so smart and capable and tough as nails, oooh, I like him so much!!! And it does not hurt that the numerous, exquisite sex scenes feature a delightful blend of (a) my favorite all-time kinks and (b) stuff that is not on my usual menu but that magically rocks my world as applied to these characters in this story.

5. This Tornado Loves You by FeelsForBreakfast (@rabbitcrimes) (The Untamed/MDZS, ~9K)

Want to get way, way up close with Lan Zhan’s brain while he realizes that his ferality about Wei Ying does, in fact, go up to eleven? This is the fic for you. I can’t do better than the author’s own summary: “Hanguang-jun is dating a mild mannered, non-cultivator named Wei Wuxian. The Yiling Laozu rolls up to a nighthunt on a motorbike, no relation at all to the previous statement.” This author’s Lan Zhan/Lan Wangji voice is so fucking good, it makes me mad. And SO FUNNY – I have read these jokes probably a dozen times and they STILL make me laugh out loud. The awesome modern cultivation worldbuilding is so casually done that you sleep on how good it is. Finally, this fic is tagged “you will say ‘Yiling Laozu hot’ or your money back,” and let me tell you: you are NOT getting your money back.

#fic recs

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #58: Percy Jackson x Criminal Minds

While perusing the PJO tag for the first time in ages, I stumbled across yet another crossover I never would have thought of trying - and which, naturally, hasn't escaped my head. It managed to mash together the worlds of PJO and Criminal Minds... and so, naturally, I thought: if I were going to write this crossover, what would I do?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon - until MoA. There Percy plays off the judo throw in New Rome to avoid starting a war with the Greeks, but after they're alone on the Argo Percy tells Annabeth that he doesn't appreciate 1) being blamed for his disappearance, as if Hera had asked him if he wanted to lose his memories and half a year of his life, and 2) being physically attacked by his girlfriend outside of weapons practice.

Naturally, Annabeth doesn't take this well and doubles down on her position, and the two fight like cats and dogs throughout MoA and HoO. By the time they reach Akhlys, Percy is hardly inclined to listen to Annabeth at all, and so doesn't stop poison-bending.

It's not obvious at the time, but not stopping fully unlocks Percy's divine powers. He's now immortal, like Chiron, but not a god. It's also rather the final straw for Annabeth and Percy's relationship.

Because he doesn't immediately realize he's immortal, Percy goes on with normal human things like high school and college - attending both at Camp Jupiter, which is better equipped to handle demigods than the average mortal school. It's only after he starts grad school at nearby Stanford University and gets a lot of comments on how young he looks does anyone start realizing what's happened.

Fast forward to about 15 years after HOO, when Percy has joined the BAU - because even immortals have to pay the bills somehow.

In my head I picture this to be S8/S9 of CM, largely because I enjoyed Alex Blake's character and think she'd be a good outsider POV for the story I want to tell, but dealer's choice.

Percy proves to be the BAU cryptid. His primary and secondary school records say unsub in the making... then he double majors in marine biology and classics in college (because everyone who survives four years in the legion or slays a particular number of monsters gets a classics degree when they graduate by default). Then he goes on to get a doctorate in psychology from Stanford... and swim twice for Team USA in the Olympics. He once went on vacation in the Keys and found the wreck of a lost Spanish galleon free diving. He's polite and mild mannered and goes nowhere without at least three knives on his person and a week's worth of survival gear. When he's tired, his reports sometimes slip into Ancient Greek or Latin. He may be a Hellenist and speaks of Hell as a place that he's been.

Percy is, in short, unfathomable to his profiler colleagues. They like him, but every new thing they learn about him only complicates the profile they're definitely not putting together.

He's been in the BAU for about 18 months before they receive reports of a serial killer's dumping ground in the Oakland Hills, not more than a mile from Camp Jupiter. The victims are all in their late teens and signs indicate all were killed in a ritualistic way. Most of those the investigators can identify are runaways.

Once the BAU is on site, Reid determines that someone is trying to recreate an obscure Ancient Roman sacrifice.

More importantly, Percy realizes that, yes, these are definitely the bodies of Roman demigods - and not one of them was killed by a monster before they could get to camp. In fact, he's pretty sure there's a secret entrance to camp not 100' away from the oldest body.

It's this last point that causes Percy to lead his team to Camp Jupiter. This is a revelation in itself and should answer many of the team's questions about Percy but give them twice as many new ones.

It should also be perfect timing, as they arrive just as praetors Frank and Hazel were thinking of reaching out to Percy, as he's the only real investigator either camp has. They're not aware of most of the murders, as it's not unusual for one or two demigods every year to be killed after leaving the safety of camp, but the last three victims went missing in the last three months under odd circumstances.

(One was a granddaughter of Apollo who'd talked about wanting to join the Hunters of Artemis, and when she disappeared everyone assumed that's what she did, only for the Hunters to visit later claiming she never showed. The most recent was a daughter of Bacchus who hated the regimented life of the legion and wanted to transfer to Camp Half-Blood where things were a little more their speed. Most the others were legacies or the children of minor gods.)

They set up shop in Percy's house - in part because CJ has no police force beyond the legion, which houses their main suspects - in part because Percy's house is built like a Roman temple on the edge of the temple district and no one would dare sneak into it.

(The demigods have been actively treating immortal Percy as a god, because if deification worked for Nero, they can make it work for Percy. And a deified!Percy could only be good for them.)

In the end it comes out a grandchild of Hecate/Trivia was sacrificing other demigods to their ancestor in hopes of obtaining more power - they should be just powerful enough to disguise their actions with the Mist but not much more, and intensely jealous their ancestor handed already-powerful Hazel more power during the Giant War.

Bonuses include: 1) Thalia and the Hunters showing up to help, as do Nico and Will. This should be an intensely confusing family reunion to watch from the outside given that two are immortal. Extra bonus points if the BAU recognize Nico from some wildly successful paranormal investigative channel on YouTube and are shocked to find out all the ghosts are real; 2) Will calling Percy "mom", on account of the fact he's been dating Apollo for the last five years now - Apollo's longest relationship ever - though Percy refuses to consider marriage or children until fifty years have passed; and 3) One of the BAU being tangentially involved with the mythological world already - Hotch had a relationship with a disguised Justice before meeting Hailey and their child is at Camp Jupiter? Reid has just recently met a disguised Athena at a conference and is now worried he'll arrive home to a baby on the doorstep?

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back to me if you chose to do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo #hoo #criminal minds #crossover #percy x apollo #trials of apollo #toa

[taiturner]

NEW YEARS CLEAN-UP 🎊

rules: unburden yourself from the abandoned WIPS collecting dust in your folder and share 5 gifs, then tag five people. (tagged by @yenvengerberg, thank you i feel like i can do something useful with these things now 💖)

tagging with no pressure of course: @wyllhalsin, @capinejghafa, @cardvngreenbriar, @seance, @ayoedebiris, @ughmerlin, @craintheodora, @lottiemilfews, @natscatorrcio (yeah miles i'm tagging you to be funny i know what you did with those psds)

these are all from projects that i have in a folder titled "on the bench" that i want to pretend i'll come back to, but.... some of these have been benched for so long and they're no longer fresh in my head so i fear they'll be abandoned forever. should also be mentioned that a lot of projects on the bench are literally just me making all the typography first and then losing inspo when i actually wanted to gif things.... usually by the time i do start, i change my mind about the type anyway. i also have so many abandoned gifs from other gifsets i've already posted but i'm not even sure where to begin searching so... here are some things!

one of the many gifs i already created for a prompt from @yellowjacketsoctober to put the show in a different genre. ironically, a prompt that i came up with for the event specifically to make this gifset but didn't even complete. i spent so many hours and so many days trying to gif this entire arc for these three with the intent to make it a heist drama set but after so long i realized i was just giffing exactly what happened in the show and it started to feel pointless. but at least here's a preview of something that i'll never finish. my trio of all time, can they commit more crimes together please! (should also be said that this folder is 44gb because i already saved all the caps + because these psds are so heavy... new years clean up for real)

i don't know what it is about lydia that makes it so hard for me to finish any set for her, but every time i try i seem to always lose the drive eventually (probably because twd in general just feels really uninteresting for me to blend, for some reason). from a 2022 spotify wrapped meme, i'm pretty sure i restarted this specific gifset so many different times, unhappy with the colors and the blends and the text and everything -- which is why there are two very different examples here. my girl of all time though i will finish something for her eventually (and maybe even this one, because this song is still so good for her).

one of the many gifs that were abandoned by my scream vi set for favorite slasher in october. when tumblr first changed the image upload limit to 30, i promised myself to never take advantage of that too much, but i severely underestimated how many moments i would want to include for this movie and i made so many other gifs for this set but ultimately cut them so i could try to tone it down - 18 gifs in this set still feels like a lot but i spent so much time on this set that it was hard to part with many more. anyway here's sam being the hottest final girl in the world and correct about everything.

i don't know how long this has been on the bench but it was definitely a project i started way before season 2 even aired. i think i just got stuck and wasn't sure where to go with it, but anyway her!

extra spoiler for @wyllhalsin but this was supposed to be a pride edit in june for one of my favorite lgbt characters of all time. this show's camera movements nearly makes it impossible to blend anything so i lost the drive, but i will come back for felix someday (and for coty, obviously this set was for him).

#personal #tumblr2023 #tag game #this is such a good idea kissing the person who started this game #'new years clean up' and then i still dont delete these psds Just In Case -

[lizzzylovee]

Eywa’s Vision

Chapter 1: Arrival

Summary : “Born with the ability to receive visions of the future, Kani must choose to abandon what she knows to aid in Navi that she's never met.“

MDNI

Authors note: Hello! Just wanted to start off by saying that this the first thing I have ever wrote before lol. I have fallen in love with the Avatar Movies, and after binge reading I realized I wanted to attempt to do it.

Story starts off with the original characters in Home Tree, the sky people haven't returned yet, and all the characters are aged up by 5 years! I will be going more by Navi standards as best as possible. There will be mature contents, but each chapter will be labeled appropriately as possible. There will be a mix of languages, and I will try my best to be as distinctive as possible lol.

*This will most likely be more slow burn than not, I don’t want to rush the story line as much I really want to lol. Eventual smut*** If you see this on Wattpad I have also posted it there under the same tag.

WK: about 3k ish?

CW: cursing, Neteyam being in love struck awe lol, nothing really in this chapter

Chapter 1: Arrival          Chapter 2: Story Time  

Masterlist

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

The jungle hummed with life. Through the tall treetops, light seeps through, basking the ground with a peak from the light above. Even with the peaceful feeling, it traps you into a sense of safety.

Crouching down, he looks through the foliage, eyes tracking it's movement. Taking slow breathes, he maneuvers into position, knee bent while kneeling on the ground. Bow grasped tightly in hand, sure movements notches the arrow. With one last inhale, he draws the bow, clenching his core, and with one final glance, he releases.

As the arrow soars, it meets it's final destination, straight into the eyes of the unknowing Yerik.

"Bullseye!"

With a roll of his eyes, he can't help but smirk at the praise of his companion.

"You know bro, one day you too might have a chance of being as good as me."

Spiders smile falls, only to proceed to roll his eyes, and flip off his friends back as he goes to pray over his kill.

"We both know I would kick your ass if I was Navi. Besides, why go hunting if the hunting party already left?"

Lo'ak proceeds to bind his kill, securing the feet together for easier carrying on the way back.

"Because if I show up empty handed, my parents might actually disown me."

"What did you do this time?"

Biting his lip, Lo'ak spares Spider a glance over his shoulder.

"I may or may not have forgotten to watch Tuk, leading her to paint a family portrait on the tent.."

With a baffled look, Spider could only gawk at his friend, watching as he puts the final ties to together.

"And hopefully with my peace offering, my dad might actually rethink the 'life sentence' and take me off cleaning duty."

"Fat chance, but I hope it actually goes well! Kiri's been holed up in the Tsahik tent, last thing I need is my other friend being punished to death." Spider slides down from his watching post, kicking at the grass.

"Other friend, since when did she replace my spot as the best friend?" Lo'ak looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, hand to his chest with mock hurt over his face.

"Oh shut up, let's go home." Spider rolls his eyes, glancing down at the floor, trying his best to get the heat from his face. Lo'ak can only laugh at his friends' inability to admit the truth of his feelings, even though he knows that nothing can come about it. With the raise of his hand cupping the side of his mouth, he makes the sound to call out to his Ikran.

"You know bro, maybe you should go for one of the older scientist." Lo'ak replied with barely hid mirth.

"You're fucking disgusting."

With a final laugh, Lo'ak drags his kill to his Ikran, anchoring it around onto it, giving a few tugs to test it's security.

"Come on bro, we gotta head back before dinner, I don't want to wake up dead before tomorrow."

"You do realize you can't wake up dead right?" Spider clamors on, smacking Lo'aks attempt to assist.

"You act like you've never met my mother." Swinging his body over, Lo'ak climbs on behind Spider, and after making tsaheylu, the Ikran takes off with a final screech.

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Growing up, Lo'ak always dreamed of the day of owning his own Ikran. Flying through the sky with no care of living up to expectations and having the ability to pretend to be who he wants. After his first failed attempt, which he tries his best not to think on, flying came so naturally that it allowed his mind to blank.

Flying back to Home Tree, first glances at the kill he was hauling for his family, and then to Spider to make sure he was secure, though he would never admit due to knowing how Spider would get if he felt like he couldn't keep up with the 18 year old Navi male.

With the wind hitting his face, he looks far ahead to watch for Home Tree to come into the horizon line, making the appropriate turns needed to avoid floating mountains around. Closing his eyes for a second while leaning his head back, he mentally prepares for this peace to end when he comes back home. With opening eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight before him.

8 Ikrans, all in a variety of colors, flies just left above them, flying in a distinct, formation. With an open mouth, Lo'ak gawks at the sight in front of him, having to make a conscious effort to close his mouth, least he wants something fly into it. With a titled head, he he squints at the sight, attempting to make sense of what he was seeing.

After carefully peering at the Ikrans, he realizes that it isn't the Ikrans that is causing his sudden heart spike and confusion, it is the way the riding Navi the Ikrans are dressed. Wraps of colorful fabric cover them, unlike the clothes adorned from his clan.

Without taking his eyes off the unfamiliar flock in his sights, he reaches for the throat comm, pressing two fingers to the button on the side.

"Devil dog, I have my sights on some Ikran riders."

"Send your traffic."

"It looks like Navi, but they aren't dressed like anything I've seen before. And they seem to be heading to Home Tree."

"Copy, do not engage. Get home as soon a possible, no interacting."

"Copy that Sir."

"I mean it boy, no fucking around."

With a roll of his eyes,  Lo'ak urges his Ikran to fly faster,  as the group above seem to have moved expertly through floating rocks, moving as one unit, leaving Lo'ak and his carriage behind. Having set his mind to the task, Lo'ak locks eyes on his unknown enemy, causing Spider to sputter out curses, in the attempt to hold on.

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Home Tree has always seemed to have a certain buzz to it, with all it's inhabitants busy with village life, doing what it expected to help aid the clan having a sustainable life. Excusing himself from the hunter's party, leaving his subordinates with the task of cleaning and appropriately readying the day's kill for the cooks, Neteyam seeks out his father to report the day's happenings when a sudden comotion causes the clan to become on uproar.

Attempting to make sense of what was going on, Neteyam frantically looks around, trying his hardest to find the source that started the sudden defenses.

"Outsiders!"

"They're at the check points!"

Wide eyed and erect ears, Neteyam tries in the gentlest of ways to make his way through the crowd. Knowing it was of no use to radio his father, at least with the yells from around, all he could do was make his way to the front of the crowd, knowing where the choas orginated,  his father was already there to contain it.

Swinging his bow over his shoulder, he makes way through the crowd, being internally grateful that being the Olo'eyktan's first son made the clan members aware of just who was bypassing them, almost opening a way for him to make his way through the ground level of Home Tree. After passing by higher level Navi in the clan, the sea of bodies opens up to a sight that instantly puts him on guard.

8 Ikrans. 8 Ikrans that  land side by side in the clearing. The animals are restless, screaming and screeching in their language, shifting   around on the ground, irritated by the warriors that surround them, sharp spears and bows drawn. Warriors cry, with mother's clutching onto children that seem to be overly curious at the sight in front of them.

Keeping his eyes on the sight in front of him, with him slowly circling his way to the front, Neteyam was so focused on the unknown sight that he almost missed the sight of his baby brother hastily landing his Ikran a ways away, only to fall face first into the ground due to his uncoordinated pace of trying to get off the beast. With a minute shake of his head, he refocused on the intruders, catching the sight of his fathers back making way, with his mother only a few paces behind. Following in line with his parents, he swiftly takes his bow off, hand reaching for the arrow on his person, absently mindlessly notching the arrow, muscles tense.

With a raised hand, the clan leader calms the uproar cries of the clan, all falling silent, only for whispers to muttered, in respect of the chief's orders. With a glance to the crowd forming around, the leader makes way around the warriors, stopping in the middle of the odd dressed intruders still perched on their rides. With each step closer, the whispers die down, anticipation rising in the air, almost suffocating.

"State your business!"

With the roar only a seasoned leader possessed, it seamed as if it had gotten impossible quieter, with clan moving restless against one another, intently watching for the intruders next move.

With slow, but sure movement, the rider situated towards the middle made movement to descent off the Ikran. Moving with grace that isn't known in such a tense situation, the small form touches down. Clothed with colorful wraps around head, face, and body, with only the ability the see into the intruders eyes through the riders mask, the unknown figure makes way to the leader, in calm, sure footed steps, raising a hand to take off the riders mask.

With unblocked eyes, Jake Sully allows himself to survey the figure in front of him. Keeping mind of his mates hand on his shoulder, he notices a distinct feature on the figure, that while it may put his clan in an defensive state of mind, only cause curiosity to bloom in his chest. Instead of the normal Navi feature of only having 3 fingers, the Navi in front possess the same amount that him and two of his children have. With gears turning in his head, he comes back to present day with said figure gestures their fingertips from their forehead down, signing 'I see you'.

Straightening their back, the figure locks eyes on the clan lead, and with a voice clear in the Navi Language, "I see you, Jake Sully. I apologize for the intrusion, but there are matters that I must speak with you on."

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With a mind and body that seems on autopilot, almost as if he is having an out of body experience, Neteyam brings up the back of the group of foreigners, watching as the strange Navi follow almost single file after his dad, with a couple of them clustered together, limbs clenched together as much as the cloth around the bodies allow. Doing his best to keep a close eye, he ignores the stares and whispers of the passing clan members. Due to his height, which almost passes his father at this point, Neteyam adjust his eyes to look further, able to spot his father leading the group to the large meeting tent, mostly used to gather warriors and to hold meetings. He spots his mother walking tensely by his father, muscles tight and an aura that would let anyone know of her mood.

Walking in almost a daydream like state, a hand clamped down on his shoulder, ripping him from his inner observations. Turning to look at the offender, Neteyam could only shake his head at the sight of his younger brother.

"Bro what the fuck is going on?!" Lo'ak tried as best as possible to keep his volume under control, he did, but when one of the foreigners ears swiveled their way, Neteyam was aware that their conversation was not a quiet as his brother believed, regardless with it being in English.

"You know as much as I do, and still you ask this question? Learn to watch before you speak and you will understand much sooner baby brother." Neteyam hissed back, only giving a spare glance at the human that tried his best to keep up with the longer legged Navi.

Slipping his hand off his brother's shoulder, Lo'ak resigned himself to walk behind Neteyam, knowing that while he may sound rude, he was right in the lack of knowledge.

Coming up on the Warrior's tent, the flap was opened, with his father gesturing the inside. A fire was lit in the middle, casting a more ominous glow. Looking around, Neteyam noticed a handful of his fathers warriors inside, weapons drawn tight in their hands, outline the edge of the tent, barely noticing the glare his father sent to his brother, with the promise of punishment if he acted out of turn. The flap was then closed, closing off the rest of the village, leaving his parents, Lo'ak, and warriors surrounding them, as the foreigners huddled together, kneeling down on the ground, with what it seemed to have their legs tucked under their body.

The one that had spoke with his father prior sat on the front, the rest nestled behind, all stilled wrapped in clothes, with a few holding tight as if the wrap was a form of protection, instead of privacy. With his father turning to look at the group, absentmindedly paying attention to his mother pacing with agitation behind, he takes a last glance and addresses the group.

"Who are you, and where are you from?" Jake spoke in Navi, voice unwavering despite the tension around. After a passing second from the group, the figure in front makes the move to first remove the wrap around their head, causing the cloth from her nose down to fall, revealing their face. Neteyam's eyes widen, not realizing that the cause of so much commotion in his clan, was actually the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Roaming his eyes, he took in every feature.

She had long dark hair, way longer than the women in his clan kept theirs, with half her hair up, secured by what seemed to be a tie with crystals on it. Looking through the hair that framed her face,  he took in her facial features, noticing bright eyes rimmed with black, down to her nose, with a half crescent object hanging from her nose. Her ears were pierced in a similar fashion to his mothers, with feathers looped through and hanging through them. Her neck was adorned with a neck piece, though it was not in a similar fashion found in his clan. It was adorned with crystals, their reflections bouncing from the light caused by the flickering fire in front. His eyes caught the hair above her eyes, similar in the way he has seen on his dad, brother or sisters face. High cheekbones framed and shaped her face, leading to a relaxed facial expression, as if she was unaffected by today's turn of events.

While lost in his thoughts, he was seemingly broken out of his spell when she opened her mouth.

"While I understand the reason for warriors to be present, I do believe this conversation would be best handled with as much privacy as possible."

Everyone in the room froze.

Not for the words actually spoken, but for the language she replied in.

"How the fuck does she know English?"

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Well there’s part one! Hopefully you guys like it! I will try my best to attempt to keep everything organized, but Imma be honest, idk how to tf to put stuff together when it comes to links lol. Once again, there will be eventual smut, just gotta set the mood lmfao. Thank you so everyone that took the time to read! Also if you ever curious about the OC characters and how the family dynamics works, hopefully this guide helps lol.

***Kani*** 

19

Youngest Daughter

Kekunan Clan

***Heatey***

22

Oldest brother

Mate: Tal'i (22)

Kekunan Clan

***Naya'il***

21

Older sister

Mate: Tsuten (21)

Kekunan Clan

***Zernem***

20

Youngest brother

Kekunan Clan

***Mai***

18

Best friend

Kekunan Clan

***Zute***

13

Mai's younger brother

Kekunan Clan

_____Other Characters____

Neteyam- 19

Lo'ak-18

Kiri-18

Tuk-13

Hopefully that answers everything!

#neteyam #neteyam sully #slow burn #avatar #atwotw #loak fic #loak sully #loak #neteyam smut #jake sully #neytiri #pandora #avatar neteyam #avatar smut #atwow fluff #fluff #avatar loak #atwow smut #atwow neteyam #omaticaya clan #omatikaya #romance

[gomacave]

Lol, it is sooo nice to come across someone who still cares about kkm in 2024 😭 just gonna send as an ask so we aren't tag paragraphing back and forth. (Tried just messaging, but you know the tumblr app's reliabilty...)

I have so many thoughts on wolfram and yuuri as people and how they would work as a couple

Re: your original tags i 100% agree that yuuri would be the one to initiate their actual relationship with a kiss he didn't even put any thought into, body just acted. 

I've had this vague fanfic idea in my head for the past like... 10 years (i can't believe i first watched it so long ago) that after getting used to wolfram being his best friend and enjoying being around him in that way for a couple years yuuri would start to catch feelings without even realizing it. Then he'd kiss wolfram in some dramatic dangerous context (like your comic) and immediately fall through a puddle back to earth once the danger is over, without getting the chance to talk to wolfram about it. 

And then yuuri is just like, stuck on earth for a whole month or 2. Ruminating on the kiss, using 2007 style discussion boards to try to figure out his sexuality (😂 poor kid). Maybe watching some random movie (i genuinely don't have a specific one in mind) and realizing that the 2 male main characters have crazy chemisty, remembering something about shipping from that discussion board, searching male character A x male character B and reading some fanfic/seeing some fanart that makes him go "shit maybe i am into guys." Then he like... reads a real romance novel or something that his mom buys him (a teen book! I should clarify. His mom is quirky but not totally oblivous to what would be appropriate), because she's supportive and knows he'd never buy one on his own. And he talks to her a few times about this realization throughout this 2 months. 

Basically, i like the idea of yuuri being forced away from wolfram and all the normalized queerness of shin makoku and still coming to the conclusion that he likes wolfram and wants to be with him. And "hey, im not even gonna be living on earth much past the age of 18 anyway, so why should i care about any of these cultural norms anymore? And my family gets it, so honestly, fuck it."

And then he finally gets back to shin makoku and word vomits/lays this 2 months worth of soul searching at wolfram's feet.

And wolfram is just like, "well it's actually been 8 months or something for me. Glad you figured all that shit out, even though i still don't get what the big deal was, but i definitely panic spiralled into thinking you weren't coming back ever again because of that kiss. So honestly, i'm pretty happy right now. But ngl, you reciprocating my feelings is a little... off putting? No, maybe more like... completely unexpected. I'm in no way prepared for this."

And then their dynamic switches to wolfram being the one who's kind of uncomfortable with public displays of affection (he still likes it, but is noticeably shy/tense). And yuuri just trying his best to not spook wolfram and understand why he's like this now.

And it all just culminates in them having a talk in bed before the fall asleep a couple months after yuuri comes back where wolfram trys to explain how high up on a pedestel yuuri is in his mind and how, to him, it feels like them actually being together is just dragging yuuri down. And how yes, he loves yuuri romantically, but it's also so much more than that. He loves him as his  untouchable best friend who he was JUST getting used to always being out of romatic reach when yuuri got spirited away to earth for 8 months. He loves yuuri as his king. He loves him as an IDEAL. So being with him as his actual fiancé is going to be a slow process. It's a lot to recontextualize in wolfram's head.

But yuuri is fine with that because he's like 18ish/still a teenager at this point and wasn't ready to get married immediately anyway. 

Thanks for the invite to head canon dump on you. It feels good to share these vague ideas for a story i'll never write with another person who GETS the ship in the same way i do 💞

I'm also eager to hear any head canons/ideas you have about these 2. We're def on the same wavelength in terms of wanting to give the characters in kkm more context and agency outside of it being a silly little fantasy adventure thing (with a weirdly well fleshed out world, to be fair) 😂

REAL....... ur so real for everything here..... i think this is 100% how it would go. love the 2007 forums 😭 hes troubleshooting his homosexuality like its a game bug or smth thats so in-character i also agree w the wolf being startled by the reciprocation thing like he would 100% not be able to handle yuuri becoming "real" to him. like an actual option to date and stuff cuz my hc (bc i love suffering) is that he kind of likes or its convenient? that yuuri doesn't reciprocate cuz its so easy to be devoted when u dont have an actual relationship to talk abt and its one sided. it also gets more fanatical that way (aka yearning is stronger when it is left unfulfilled LOL) i also feel like he doesnt deserve it 2 some degree, not that hes not confident but that it's not his place. i feel like this is common in fanart/fic but where yuuri is like ok so can we kiss now and wolf is like ? kiss? we are a symbolic union between blah blah blah

BUT YEAH...... ALSO I LOVE THEM HAVING TALKS TOGETHER IN BED its just so.... like nice 2me...... the vibe of like having to sleep together.. the heart to hearts in bed is so funny but nice. the 16 year olds having a heart to heart while playing house (as a married couple) like the dissonance between their emotional immaturity and the tension and the closeness between them is so juicyyyy like SLEEPOVER TIME except ur discussing ur divorce arc w a 16 year old boysoldier who wants to die for you So Bad

my personal hcs/pure self indulgent bs under cut

ok first i feel like i have to clarify that i dont think that my hcs are canon i just like to have fun w kkm chars like dolls lmfaoooo..... but here are my self indulgent how-they-get-together-hcs ALSO its been like a solid two or three months since i last thought in depth abt kkm so i might be messing some details up

i kinda like the idea of wolf drifting apart from yuuri (from his constant rejection as well as duty and circumstance) and yuuri never reciprocates during this time (also never realizes) and eventually wolf goes off to bielefelt to do his duties and become the patriarch after everything settles. (i also like greta a lot so this is where she goes off to her own nation and wanders as a knight and alsooooo has a lesbianism with beatrice at around 20? years old..?) ANYWAYS they're in kind of awkward limbo and 2 yuuri wolf is someone he wishes he was closer to like when they were kids but isn't and he also avoids him from the guilt/shame of rejecting his feelings

at this pt yuuri has noticed in hindsight that he was in love w wolf but anyways something happens (like an attack) and wolf and yuuri are stuck living together again, wolf is once again risking his life for yuuri and his actions sort of betray that he's still just as in love w him as he was before they separated, he just decided that it would be better not to burden him with his feelings (at this pt he's self-aware that 16 year old wolf had a lot of baggage and codependency lumped in with love like the deifying stuff) and eventually yuuri reveals that he thinks he was in love with him too and wolf has to confront the fact that he wasn't looking for romance in the first place and also that yuuri is still too bright for him to touch (in his mind) so he's kinda like i do my job and u do urs for the good of this nation. BUT OFC they eventually get together after a lot of awkward divorcedness YAAAYYYYYYYY

OH ALSO unrelated to prev scenario but one thing i love ab ur hc and teen yuuram is the contrast between the world-ending desperation of wolf's love and the teenage first crush sweetness of yuuri's. I LOVE THE IDEA OF WOLF BEING LIKE. "i would die on the cross for you" (wiping the blood from his brow) and yuuri's just like "ok lets take this one step at a time" the part of the ship that's just yuuri getting to be an awkward gay teen and wolf eventually discovering awkward teen crushisms is sooo cute to me. like discovering that holding hands in a romantic context does not at all feel like what they did in the closet!! soo sweet and cute

ok ty for listening THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRRRYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭 feel free 2 throw ur hcs at me anytime...!!! ^^

#i have sooo many hcs LMAO most of them wolf-centric but mannnnnn ask me anytime abt wolf and shinou 😔or ill draw the comic ig.... #i havent finished kkm anime actually im one ep away from finishing it but i got caught up and scared to finish it so #txt #i forgor my ask tag #and also my kkm rambles tag #OH WAIT its #gomakkm #cave mail #also ur so right about yuuri's journey of self acceptance as well as the crush thing love to see the sociopolitical differences explored!

[mxonigirimiya]

Reckonings and Retributions

An: I tried formatting it on my phone because I'm on vacation. I struggled so I'll wait till I get home next weekend to properly format it, but here's my piece for @mybigbangacademia

Tags: major character death, small reference to start of the Final arc in the manga, depictions of grief, violence(fighting a villain), depiction of a person dying, PTSD, funerals, more gore cuz PTSD flashbacks, panic attacks, MORE GRIEF. Yuh.

The accompanying art was drawn by the extremely talented @almaadst find it here.

Premise: Watching your friend die is never easy, Bakugou learned this the hard way. But how many students need to die for UA to pick up the slack? To make attending the school safe for students and assuage the fears that have been stoked in their parents? To Bakugou’s knowledge, only a couple students have died at UA throughout its history. But for Aizawa, he knows the truth. He sees the grief he experienced when he lost Oboro reflected in his own students, and he decided that he’s had enough. He can’t sit idly by while students are dying. With the determination of class 2-A, they dig for the truth, only to find the hundreds of skeletons in UA and the HPSC are hiding in their closet. When the truth comes to life, the already fragile trust the people had with heroes shattered. And with these revelations, come a reckoning. 

I'm really trying to give y'all time to run, or know what you're getting into.

Wc: 20k

Read the tags before clicking read more. Please.

Becoming a hero almost meant that sacrifices were going to be made. Your social life, your sleep, your mental health, or even your life. But as Bakugo is staring at blood soaked rubble, he realized that he wasn't ready to make that ultimate sacrifice. None of his classmates were. So why was he holding the hand of his lifeless friend?

After All for One was defeated, class 2-A took a collective deep breath. The Paranormal Liberation Front was dealt with. Everyone thought that they were finally going to be able to have a normal or at least semi-normal high school experience. That bubble was immediately popped at the Ground Beta site.

Bakugo, Denki and Kaminari were all running through what were the remnants of a multiple story building. There were only two floors that were left, and towering beams that indicated there were even more floors that now cease to exist. It was quiet, almost too quiet for Bakugou. He slowed down and surveyed his surroundings.

"Something feels wrong. I don't know what it is, but I'm not liking it here," Bakugou said, keeping in line with Denki and Kirishima. Dread weighed his brain down, the feeling coating him like a gross, thick syrup. He's never been this on edge before and it scares him. Denki laughed and shoved him a little.

"Dude, you're being paranoid. I know we've been through a lot in the last year, but it's over. All for One, the League, everything is done. We can finally relax," he said, placing his hands behind his head. Kirishima nodded before agreeing, stating, "Denki's right. We should always stay vigilant, but the people who would attack us on campus are never coming back. So we're safe here, alright Bakugou?" Bakugou let out a huff and the three of them remained in silence before a loud boom echoed through the floor. Before any of them could think, they were off, running to figure out the origin of the sound. They thought it was remotely detonated charges set up by the school, but Bakugou had a sinking feeling it was something or someone much worse. Kirishima and Denki were placing bets as to what the school had in store for them, but nothing about this screamed organized. They ran to another part of the building, and Bakugou's blood ran cold at the sight of a large hulking figure standing in front of a gaping hole in the concrete wall.

"Oh, my first victims," the figure spoke, its voice gravely and almost inhuman. It was grotesque, its body looking humanoid with lava and black rocks decorating its skin.

"Shitty Hair! Go alert the school," Bakugou barked out. Kirishima nodded and ran deeper into the building, knowing there's flares somewhere inside, leaving Bakugou and Denki to defend themselves.

Looking around, Bakugou tried to assess his best options, quickly realizing that's this is a nightmare for using his quirk. An enclosed space like this hallway means that Denki is easy collateral damage. All it takes is one wrong move and he'll hurt him, so Bakugou bursts forward, propelled by his hands' explosions in an attempt to run outside, only to be thrown against the wall. Bakugou grunts as he makes impact, and slides to the floor. Denki makes a move to get to Bakugou but the villain gets to Denki first, lifting him by the neck.

"You aren't as interesting, so if you want to live, stay out of it," they growled out, tightening his hold on Denki's neck. Denki felt heavy with nothing but fear as the villain stared at him. Bakugou watched as Denki clawed at the villain's hands in weakening attempts to get them to release him. The villain turned his head to look at Bakugou before continuing to speak. "I wanted you, among some of your other classmates, Shoto and Deku. You all caused quite the stir in the last year and I want to see what all the hype is. The rest of your class is simply collateral damage." They threw Denki to the same, and Bakugou instictively ran to catch his friend before he made contact with the wall.

"Get the fuck out of here Pikachu. I'm not letting you get hurt 'cuz of me," Bakugou growled, but Denki could see pain and worry swimming in his friend's eyes.

"I'm not leaving. Kirishima will be back soon. Let's hold him off til the teachers get here," Denki said, smiling. Bakugou shook his head, voicing his dissent.

"No. You both need to go. This is my fight, not yours." The villain stormed towards them.

"I'm tired of your fluffy shit. Neither of you are hurt really bad, and starting to fuckjng bored." Bakugo blasted both of them out of the building, getting Denki to a safe spot as the villain spoke. "Stay here and wait for the teachers." As Bakugo spoke, a flare shot into the sky, and Bakugo let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The teachers know something's up. Someone's gonna come for us. We'll be okay. When everything was so chaotic last year, he always had the teachers behind him, and it gave him so much more confidence and strength knowing he had pro-heroes on his corner, supporting him and ready to lay their lives on the line to protect him and his classmates.

"When the teachers come, tell them what's going on," Bakugou said before blasting off again, leaving a screaming Denki behind. This is his fight and business. He couldn't bear the pain of his best friend getting hurt because the villain want him.

As he arrived back at the building, he saw Kirishima outside, looking around. "Oi, Shitty Hair," Bakugou yelled out, catching Kirishima's attention. Kirishima's shoulders relaxed as he saw his friend.

"Oh thank goodness you're okay. Where's Kaminari," Kirishima asked, relief obvious on his features.

"I took him to safety. And you have to go, too, Shitty Hair. The guy specifically is after me. I refuse to let people get hurt because of me," Bakugou said, causing Kirishima to blink in surprise, before determination took over his features. "I'm your shield, remember? I can deal with the brunt of your attacks so you don't have to be careful around me, you hear? Go all out and show this villain why the best heroes come from UA. Besides, it wouldn't be very manly of me to leave my friend in their time of need," Kirishima stated, and Bakugou let out a "tsk" before the faintest sign of a smile appeared on his face.

"Found you," the villain exclaimed, coming out from the hole he left in the wall. It was almost the villain was playing some sick and twisted version of hide and seek. The villain almost sung those words, and it caused Bakugou to believe that the villain saw everything as somw fucked up game. Kirishima immediately took a defensive stance the moment he heard the villain, and Bakugou started blasting towards the villain. I don't have to incapacitate him, I just need to keep him busy, he thought as lhe blasted the villain in the face. They stumbled before smiling, showing their sharp teeth. "That's what I'm here for. Show me what you're capable of Dynamight," they snarled, now lunging at Bakugou.

Bakugou kept moving around, dodging his attacks, and the villain, slowly becoming more and more agitated, started picking up rubble to throw at him. The air was was slowly becoming more and more saturated with the smell of burnt caramel and smoke as Bakugou kept using his explosions to avoid the villain's attacks, and the crack of each of this explosions pierced through the air.

"I came for a fight, and all you're doing is dancing around me. If you think you're going to live long enough for your teachers to get here and save you, you're sorely mistaken," they growled. Bakugou didn't dignify them with an answer. Don't rile them up, but close yourself off so this isn't as much of a fun game for him. He'll start to want to give up and get messy and that's when I strike, he thought as he kept his pace in the air. He able to blast away pieces of the rubble, and Kirishima came in, blocking some of the villain's projectiles. They hissed out in pain as Kirishima landed some blows on him as well, and the villain immediately turned to punch Kirishima through a wall, knocking the redhead unconscious. "Kirishima," Bakugou yelled out, wanting to run to his friend, but the villain grabbed him and slammed him into the ground.

"Now that the pest is dealt with, time for the main show," they said as they cackled. All Bakugou could see was red, causing an explosion in the villain's face. The attack caused them to release Bakugou and he began an onslaught of attacks, landing blow after blow on the villain. The villain laughed despite obviously hurting from the blows. "This is it! Show me why the League thought you would be a great asset," they laughed, obviously trying to enrage Bakugou even further, but the sound of his name stopped his rampage.

Denki was running towards the fight, throwing a disk towards the villain before shooting out a bolt of electricity at them, their body locking up from the current. Bakugou ran to Denki at this opening, fury covering his features.

"The fuck are you doing here! I thought I told you to wait for the teachers, dumbass," Bakugo screamed. Denki shook his head.

"Aizawa came but he was the only teacher that was there, and I refused to wait any longer while my friends might be dying! He messed with you, meaning he messed with me," Denki said, his voice cracking. Bakugou could see him shaking and clenching his fists. He doesn’t want his friends to get hurt or die while he's hiding in safety. He wants to fight with his friends and loved ones. He refuses to be unsleep. Understanding Denki's emotions, he nodded.

"The moment that things start looking bad, you run. Put yourself first," Bakugou stated. "I won't leave you. I know Kirishima would tell you the same thing. We'll fight by your side to our last breath," Denki said with finality. Bakugou hated the mention of last breath because it in insinuates that either one of you or both of you weren't going to make it out of this interaction alive. Bakugou really wanted to change his mind, but the determination on his face convinced him otherwise.

"Let's get this party started," Denki cheered. He placed his hands down and crackling started filling the air. The air was charged, Bakugou's hair started to stand up, and small bolts of electricity started to worm their way around Denkilike an eel. Light started radiating from Chargebolt and his hair began to rise. The villain regained their bearings and lunged towards them and Denki nodded, signaling Bakugou to leap into the air. A large crack of Thunder boomed around the size of one of Bakugou's AP shot going off right in your eyes. Denki put out a large burst of energy, the ground scorching until it reached the villain. There were black lines where the lightning forced itself through the ground Denki kept it up, only releasing the charge as Bakugou was about to land a hit. It was hit after hit, and the villain regained their bearings enough to throw a piece of rubble at Bakugou, and it just narrowly missed him, causing him to stagger a bit. In the background, Bakugou could hear the sound of footsteps advancing towards him and Bakugou knew this was almost over. Bakugou lunged towards the villain and grabbed his face. He pulled the pin on his gauntlets, delivering a devastating blow, rendering the villain unconscious.

Bakugou landed and panted, on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion. "Looks like we did it Pikachu," Bakugou said, gulping down air with every other word. He was met with silence and dread quickly devoured his relief. "Pikachu," asked, calling out for his friend. He turned to see a large piece of rubble where his friend was. "No, no, no, no this can't be happening," he repeated to himself as he ran to the slab of concrete, only to be met with Denki's body from the waist down trapped under the concrete. Blood was filling his friend's mouth and Denki tried his best to give Bakugou a reassuring smile, but it was one filled with unease as well.

"Stay with me Denki. Please," Bakugou cried out, moving to hold his hand. Bakugou didn't notice the blood covering his friend's hand, nor would he even care if he did. Denki gave it a weak squeeze and turned to look at him.

"Please don't blame yourself. I know you, so I know you'll do it. This is no one else's fault but the villain's. They threw the rubble. Not you," Denki said, pain drowning every word he spoke. Bakugou is always so hard on himself, blaming himself for every and any little thing. So he knew right away that Bakugou would blame himself for this.

"But I could have blown the rubble away. It didn't need to hit you," Bakugou stated, almost choking on his words.

"You didn't know it would hit me. I know if you even thought it would hit me you would have blown it away," Denki said, squeezing Bakugou's hand again. "I trust you with my like Kacchan. Even now, as you blame yourself, I still trust you. I always will trust you." Don't believe Denki's front though, he was terrified. He didn't want to die, he had so much left to do. But if he showed that fear, it would eat Bakugou for the rest of his life, and he couldn’t do that to him. He didn't blame him anyway. Denki's eyes became heavy and he started blinking, each one longer than the other. "Everything's gonna be okay," Denki said, squeezing Bakugou's hand. "Tell Shinsou I love him," Denki said softly and Bakugou shook his head, refusing his request. "You're gonna tell him that yourself Kaminari, you hear me," Bakugou said, holding Denki's hand tightly, and Denki gave Bakugou a smile before closing his eyes.

"No, you stay with me. Keep your eyes open and keep talking to me, you hear me Kaminari," Bakugou barked out, but he was met with silence, Denki's chest rising and falling slowly, but starting to slow even further. Soon it came to a complete still, and Denki's hand fell limp in Bakugou's. Bakugou repeatedly called out his friend's name in agony, and leaned in to hear it silent. An anguished cry sounded from Bakugou and Mina ran over, collapsing when she realized her friend was dead. She held Bakugou close, her wails joining his own. The teachers let them mourn before moving to pull them away. Mina went easily, but Bakugo refused to go, kicking and screaming.

"Let me go! I wanna stay with him! Please," he screamed, and Aizawa and Hizashi quickly moved in to get the teachers off of him, and knelt next to him.

"We have to get him ready to give to his family. We need you to let him go, okay," Aizawa asked, his voice soft. Bakugou looked at him with wide eyes, his cries turned into sniffles, before he got up and Aizawa held him tightly, allowing his student to cry into his chest. Hizashi rubbed his back, and they walked back to the crowd that had amassed near the scene. The sound of footsteps brought Bakugou back, and Bakugou turned to see Shinsou and his group panting wildly as Shinsou specifically walked toward Bakugou. Hwere on the farthest side of the training grounds so it took him a while, but he heard Denki was in trouble and ran over as fast as he could. He needed to tell Denki how he felt, that he was in love with him, whether it would be reciprocated or not, because he may not get another chance. His blood ran cold as he was now able to see the scene, his eyes landing on Bakugou, as Mina gave Shinsou a small hug before croaking out "I'm sorry". Shinsou looked around to see Denki's body being moved from the rubble. Aizawa's eyes landed on him and he instictively moved Bakugou into Hizashi's hands before moving towards Shinsou. The latter crumpled to the ground before releasing heart-wrenching sobs. It felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest. Shinsou's wails pierced the air, and Bakugou felt his heart breaking all over again.

Aizawa lifted him up and walked him back over to where Bakugou and Hizashi were. Bakugou looked up and he couldn’t meet Shinsou's eyes. "He loved you," Bakugou blurted out. Shinsou's cries turned into small sobs as he let out a quiet, "what?" "Kaminari loved you. Those were his last words. He asked me to tell you that he loved you," Bakugo clarified, and Shinsou moved to hug Bakugou tightly as he let out loud sobs again. "He knew you loved him though. So try not to regret not telling him because he already knew it," Bakugou said, returning the hug. Aizawa tapped Bakugou, informing him that he needed to be treated for his injuries.

After he was patched up, he waited in Kirishima's hospital room, wanting to be the one to break the news to him. It took an hour or so for Kirishima to come around, giving a weak smile to Bakugou. "Did we get him," he asked groggily, to which Bakugou replied, "yeah, we did." Kirishima nodded and looked around the room. There were numerous beds, but his was the only one occupied. "Where's Denki," Kirishima asked, and Bakugou looked down. "Kirishima, about that," Bakugou started, looking down at the floor, but Kirishima shot up, now seated in the bed, and interrupted Bakugou. "Don't tell me-" Bakugou nodded, a small sniffle coming from him and Kirishima started sobbing, only to cause Bakugou to join in the sorrow. Their cries echoed off the room's walls like a cave designed to minic their pain. He quickly moved to hug Kirishima, and whispered, "I'm sorry Eijiro. I could have done more to save him."

Kirishima grabbed Bakugou's shoulders firmly, staring into his eyes. "It isn't your fault and don't blame yourself. It's not what he would want. The whole 'would've/could've/should've' isn't manly at all and serves NO ONE. You tried your best. We both did. There was nothing more we could have done and you need to accept that," Kirishima stated, his voice firm, albeit with occasional cracks. He was right. There was nothing either of them could do. Denki was gone. Kirishima held Bakugou's hands tightly, maintaining his intense eye contact, before continuing to speak. "Everyone is going to have to stick together. It's gonna be rough for a while, but if there's ever a moment we have to come together, it's now. Of course our pain is different from theirs, but mine is different than yours too. But it's okay to be vulnerable right now. It's okay that people have seen you cry and will see you cry. You lost your best friend right in front of you. Of course you're going to be an emotional wreck. But you aren't alone in your grief. You aren't alone at all. And you need to remember that because I'm going to knock down your door to make sure you're eating." Bakugo nodded and Kirishima gave him a small smile. "I know Denki wouldn't want me crying right now, he wouldn’t want any of us to cry, so I'm trying my absolute best to keep it together, but damn is it hard," Kirishima breathed out, and Bakugou squeezed Kirishima's hand before moving to lay in the bed next to his. There was considerable amount of space between the two of them, but just being in the same room as Kirishima makes him feel a little more at ease.

"Hey, do you mind me sleeping here for the night? I don't really want to be alone right now," Bakugou grumbled out, and Kirishima nodded. He's trying his best not to go back to his abrasive demeanor, but he feels like it will bring some normalcy back into his life. Later though, because emotions are running high, and he doesn't want to hurt any of his friends any further.

As Bakugou fell asleep, his body felt heavy, and his eyes opened to him at the field again. It wasn't raining, but the low cracks of thunder were almost deafing, and the bursts of lightning were almost blinding. The thunder was a soft background to Denki's pained screams. Bakugou runs back to the rubble to find Denki there again. Seeing his friend's mangled body was absolutely worse the second time around. Bakugou had to focus on the rubble, and nothing else to preserve his sanity. The moment he looked at Denki’s body, Denki's eyes landed on Bakugou. The screams quickly turned into venomous words. "It's your fault! If you paid attention, I wouldn't have gotten crushed. My death is on your hands," Denki spat out, causing Bakugou to fall onto the grass. No, it wasn't his fault, was it? Everyone keep saying it isn't, but he holds his guilt deep inside. Kirishima's voice sounded and parroted Denki's words. Bakugou turned to see Kirishima's mangeled body the floor. Then came Mina, then Jirou, then Shinsou, then Aizawa, and slowly more and more people joined in on the cacophonous chants of "It's all your fault." The smell of blood from their mangled bodies pierced his nose, violating his sense of smell. Bakugou covered his ears, sobbing and trying his best to ignore the chants, but they only got louder with each passing moment. His heart beat in his chest like an drummer going through a solo. His brain practically shut down at that point. Overwhelmed, Bakugou closed his eyes and let out a scream to drown out the sounds, only to shoot up in bed, his eyes opened wide as he scanned the hospital room. Kirishima was staring at him, concern laced in his eyes. "You okay there? You were screaming and then woke up," Kirishima asked. Bakugou couldn't even answer, breaking down into tears for what feels like the 20th time within the last 24 hours. Kirishima couldn't really get out of bed due to his injuries, so all he could do was whisper reassurances to his best friend, hoping it would be enough. A nurse came running in, panic in her eyes, but took a sigh of relief when she saw no one was severely physically hurt. She saw nothing but pain reflected in Bakugou's eyes, and moved to offer him some chamomile and lavender tea, and/or melatonin to help him sleep. He took her offer on the tea and she left to prepare it for him. The two boys sat in silence, neither one knowing what to say to the other, and just waited for the nurse to come back.

When she returned she had two white porcelain tea mugs, steam billowing from their lips. She set them down next to the boys and gave them a soft smile. "Hey, I can push your beds closer if you want. I assume you had a nightmare," the nurse spoke, looking at Bakugou, and then turned to Kirishima before continuing, "and you wanted to comfort your friend, but you're currently bed bound so you can't hug him despite really wanting to. So once you finish your teas, I'll make sure you two are within arms reach of each other, okay? Think of Kirishima as your emotional support animal right now, although I highly suggest you look into getting one." The nurse finished speaking and left. Again, the boys just stayed silent, focusing on the tea in their hands, the warmth relieving some of their anguish. After an hour, the nurse came back, Kirishima already fast asleep, and Bakugou still awake but his eyes slowly shutting before he forces them open. Their mugs were on their bedside tables, and she moved them to a table near the door before moving the boys close to each other. She moved their bedside tables to make sure they were on the outside of the beds, removing obstructions between them. Bakugou gave a soft grunt in appreciation and she turned around to grab the cups and leave for the night. She gave one last look at the boys, smiling at Bakugou finally fast asleep, and his hand intertwined with Kirishima's.

The next morning, Bakugou was woken up by the nurse, who informed him that Denki's parents wanted to speak to him. Would they blame him for Denki's death? Do they hate him? He wouldn't blame them for either. Bakugou gulped, and he got out of bed sluggishly following the nurse out of the room and through the hospital until they got to a conference room. The nurse open the door, and Bakugou walked in to see Denki's parents and Aizawa standing up, intensely looking at the door. Denki's mom ran to him as soon as the nurse closed the door behind him and hugged him tightly, soft sniffles sounding from her, while Aizawa sat back down. Bakugou was stunned, his eyes wide, but returned the hug nonetheless. After she pulled away, she gently held his cheek in her hand, giving him a wet smile. "You know, Kaminari was super excited when you started warming up to him. He told me that you were 'grumpy as hell, but had a good heart'. He would talk about how he was so happy when you didn't push him away anymore, and 'accepted' his friendship. You were a good friend to my boy, and I can never thank you enough," she said, her voice dripping in fondness. "But I got him killed," Bakugou replied, his voice meek. The little voice in his head refused to remain silent, vocalizing the mindset it quickly adopted within these last 24 hours.

"Don't you dare blame yourself. Kaminari was there because he wanted to protect you. Protect his friends. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else but by your side. The person to blame is the fucking villain who killed him. I don't care that he was after you in particular. He made the decision to break into UA's grounds. He threw the rubble. It's his fault, not yours," she said, her voice now firm. Her husband came up from behind her and placed a hand on Bakugou's shoulder. "We could have blamed you. But we know that it would only be us lashing out at you because we were blinded by grief. You can't predict the future. After all, hindsight is 20/20. But you were there for him in his final moments. You stayed by his side and comforted him. Our son didn't die alone, he died with you by his side, and we can't thank you enough," he added onto his wife's words. "Being a hero means that there's a risk that you'll have to make the ultimate sacrifice. Whether it's making a last stand or by accident, heroes die in the line of duty. But I know so many of my colleagues who died alone. They must have been so scared, but they had no one to comfort them in their final moments. But Denki had you. He had you holding his hand and talking to him. And I'm so thankful that he wasn't scared and alone in his final moments, but was feeling loved by you," she finished, now moving to sit at the table again.

"They wanted to comfort you. That's why they called you here," Aizawa said, Bakugou's attention now turning on him. "It works for me, because the school is holding a memorial for him, and we would like your help to organize it. We already spoke to Mina, Sero, and Jirou, who already agreed. Kirishima and you are all that's left to ask," Aizawa explained. Bakugou took a second to think. Is he the right person for this? Will he be mentally okay enough for this? But the memory of Denki's smile and laugh flashed through his head, and that made up his mind for him.

"I'll do it." Denki wouldn't want us crying and mourning like this. He would want us to celebrate his life, happy that he was with us. Aizawa nodded and called for the nurse to take him back to his room. Bakugou sat in his bed once he arrived and looked at Kirishima who was still fast asleep. "He'll probably be discharged tomorrow. I spoke to the doctor, and they're looking into you two being roommates for a little bit. You were able to sleep well last night after Kirishima held your hand, so with Kirishima staying with you, you can get some sleep," the nurse said. He didn't even realize she was still there but whispered a soft thanks before she left the room. Bakugou laid down and held Kirishima's hand again, the same hand from last night still extended, and found himself slipping into a dreamless slumber.

The next morning, Bakugou woke up to see Jirou, Shinsou, Sero and Mina all standing by Kirishima's bed. They were mumbling, and Bakugou coughed loudly to gain their attention. They turned to him and the room turned silent for a bit until Mina grabbed him and hugged him tightly. "I'm here for you Bakugou. We all are," she spoke, and the rest of the group nodded, their attention now on their explosive friend.

"Well, I, uh, am here for you too," he mumbled, the words foreign on his tongue. Everyone laughed at his awkwardness and Bakugou smiled, this moment being the first time he wasn't consumed with grief.

Jirou and Sero hugged him tightly as well, this quickly turning into an awkward cuddle puddle. In this room, normalcy reigned supreme. Bakugou felt a couple more bodies join in, and he grumbled at them to get off, but they refused, only hugging him tighter. Soon enough, they all broke apart, and that brief moment of happiness was choked out by grief.

"We have to start planning the memorial. The school said they'll do whatever we ask, so we have to figure that out," Shinsou said. His voice didn't waiver but there was pain in his eyes. Bakugou nodded and pointed towards the back corner of the room, where there were a stack of chairs. Everyone but Bakugou and Kirishima went to grab one and bring it back to the beds, where those chairs made a crude U shape as they started making the plans.

Over the next week, the group met in Kirishima's and Bakugou's room, Aizawa sometimes showing up as well. It was mostly a somber event, after all, they're planning a memorial for their best friend. But there's moments of time where the room is full of laughter, the group reminiscing about the nonsense Denki got you all into. The room went from being full of grief to being full of glee, and Bakugou could swear up and down he heard his laughter mixed into theirs, and it began to feel as if he was in fhe room with them.

Soon, the memorial was all set, and ready to go. The morning of, UA's second years gathered in the auditorium. The energy filling the room was dense, the grief filling the room like toxic clouds. Bakugou felt like it was hard to breathe, the sorrow almost like a hand wrapped around his throat and was slowly putting more pressure on him. He was backstage, frozen in place from the pain of what he is about to do. Why did he even agree to this? Honoring his memory? Most of the students gathered in the room barely even knew him! They didn't know how sometimes he would snort if he laughed too hard, or sometimes even wheeze. They didn't know how he had to hype himself up before exams. They didn't know how much he grew from their first year. They knew nothing about him, so why were they grieving? A hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts, and he turned to see Kirishima behind him. "They're ready for us," he informed his friend, and Bakugou nodded, making his way onto the stage. The lights were bright, and with his limited vision, he could see so many students with tears in their eyes. He could hear sniffles and even full on sobbing in the crowd. How much of an influence did Denki have? Bakugou looked at the stage finally, seeing a giant photo of Denki on an easel, draped in yellow and black flowers. There was a podium next to it where Aizawa stood. Bakugou noticed that he was dressed practically the same way as he does when he has to, whether it be visiting parents or press conferences. His suit was wrinkled, and his hair was placed into a horribly done top bun. Aizawa cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone, starting the memorial.

"Good morning second-years. I'm sorry that we have to gather under sad circumstances, but we're here to honor the memory of Denki Kaminari.” A wail sounded from the seats, and Bakugou watched as the student was gently escorted out of the room. Aizawa continued after the door closed behind them. “He was a bright student. Every time would walk into a room, his smile would lighten up the space. He was well loved, not just by his classmates, but his peers among his year, and the staff. I can personally attest that sometimes on bad days seeing his antics would put the first, and sometimes the only smile on my face of the day. I know I’ll miss him greatly, and class 2-A will never be the same without him,” Aizawa finished, now stepping from the podium.

Bakugou knew it was his turn to speak, but his feet were frozen in place. It felt like there was something weighing him down, his body too heavy to walk towards the podium. Kirishima’s voice rang in his ears, “If you can’t speak, that’s okay, I’ll go instead. But are you gonna be okay up there?” Bakugou took a deep breath and nodded, slowly walking to the podium. A small folded piece of paper burned a hole into his pocket, and as he got behind the podium he pulled the paper out and unfurled it. He kept his down, unable to look at the crowd in front of him. Taking another deep breath, he looked at the paper in front of him, the speech that he planned that’s essentially perfect and meticulous, but it was devoid of emotion, and he knew it. He knew that it was his feelings, but deeping sanitized to make it palatable to an audience, but it wasn’t him. He crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor.

“Denki was my best friend. Scratch that, he is my best friend. He will always be my best friend. But we didn’t start like that. In one of our first interactions, he told me, ‘We've only barely started socializing and already you've made it abundantly clear to us the unpleasantness of your steamed turn of a personality.’ So we didn’t like each other that much. But he grew on me, and I grew on him. We helped each other grow, not just as heroes, but as students and as people. He helped me be more cooperative, and I helped him be more confident. But we also gave each other a safe space to be authentically ourselves. I don’t know how many times I found myself in front of his room when I had a particularly bad day and he would always distract me from my negative emotions. I always went back to my room in a much better state than when I left it. He’s easily one of the good things in my life, and I’m so lucky that I get to say that,” Bakugou stated, his speech fully coming from his heart. He looked up at Denki’s photo, and in a weird way, it felt like Denki was reassuring him that everything is going to be okay. Bakugou wasn’t aware of this, but the mic picked up his parting words of, “I’ll miss you Kaminari,” and it took all of Aizawa’s energy to not cry at those words. He’s never seen Bakugou so vulnerable and it’s killing him to see his students going through the same pain that he went through all those years ago.

The rest of the memorial went smoothly, although Bakugou zoned out after he took his seat backstage. Words sounded like static despite his best attempts to focus on his friend’s words. Each speech they gave sounded like they were speaking through cotton, and after the third speech, he just gave up, his mind fully dissociating. Kirishima wanted to comfort him, but Bakugou has been staring at the stage, but it’s like he’s seeing through everyone. His eyes were unfocused, and the call of his name from Mina or Sero couldn’t break his trance, and so everyone just let him be. The sound of Denki’s mother pulled him violently into reality, as he saw both her and her husband at the podium.

“Thank you all for being here. It makes me so happy to see how loved our son was by the school. I think he would be so happy to know how many people wh]ose life he’s touched. Denki was proud that he got into UA. When he got his acceptance letter, it was all he talked about for months. And then when he started actually attending the school, he came home with stories about his classmates and the people he met or talked to that day. But I know that Denki wouldn’t want everyone wallowing in sorrow, so you can take the letters that you wrote and dump them in the baskets near the doors or give them to a staff member,” she said, and Bakugou remembered the letter idea that Mina had a while back. She suggested that students wrote at least one good memory they had with Denki, but he had no idea they actually went through it since 2-A hasn’t had class since the incident. He’s barely even left his room, with Kirishima bringing him food and water throughout the day. “Keep those good memories with you. After all, you only truly die when everyone who knew you forgets about you.” She and her husband bowed after her last words, and Bakugou stared as they made their way towards him. He shot out of his chair as they approached him, and they hugged him before she gestured everyone to join in on the hug. “Denki’s so lucky to have all of you in his life. I couldn’t ask for a better set of friends for Kami to have. He was so happy to have been in every single one of your lives, so please, keep going, for him,” she said tearfully, and Bakugou felt her arms tighten around him.

They were all so absorbed into the moment that they didn’t even realize that Aizawa ended the memorial until they heard him call for Bakugou. Everyone pulled away and Bakugou walked towards his teacher who hugged him tightly. “I know exactly what you’re going through right now. I lost my best friend while I was at UA as well. He died during an internship and I saw him die in front of my eyes,” Aizawa said before pulling away to look Bakugou in the eyes, and then continued. “He had a speaker to communicate with me that was right next to me after he was crushed by the rubble. I heard him encourage me to finish the fight through it, only to find out after the fact that the speaker wasn’t working and his voice was in my head. To this day, I still blame myself for his death. Even after finding out he’s still alive, I still blame myself. It’s why I’m always so hard on you kids. You’re just kids. You shouldn’t be fighting adults. I don’t care how capable you are, it’s not your job. If you as children have to fight full-fledged villains, then that’s a failure on the part of the adults. That means we failed as teachers, as heroes, as mentors and as protectors. And that means we failed you. But please, don’t blame yourself like I did. I know that everyone is telling you this, but I’m hoping that it means a lot more coming from me since I was in your same exact shoes. That I regret drilling the fact that it was my fault into my head. I don’t want you to have that same regret.” Bakugou simply nodded and Aizawa let him go, the area now empty except for the two of them, and Kirishima. The latter walked up to Bakugou and simply stated, “let’s go,” before the two of them made their way back to their room.

The funeral wasn’t any easier. At first it was the wake, and it was simple enough. Bakugou was slightly relieved that no one expected him to talk because he didn’t have the strength to. He had spent most of the ceremony fiddling with his black tie. If it wasn’t his tie, it was him “dusting off” his suit jacket or his slacks. Everyone was focused on the priest, taking in his words, and Bakugou tried his best, but his brain just kept feeling like it was full of wool. He was seated with his friends in the section dedicated to Denki’s relatives. Denki’s parents justified it with the explanation that Denki considered them family, so it was only fair that they sat with the family, and Denki’s relatives all agreed.

Bakugou looked at the sound system hooked up to the temple, a microphone hooked to the priest’s robe. He found the amount of wires going around the space was odd, since it would suggest a large amount of speakers were in use, but Bakugou assumed that it was due to the large number of people seated in the temple, so have a lot of speakers made sense so that everyone could hear the sutra.

Then it was time to offer incense, with each family member walking up to the burner, a large ornate bowl with a thick stem and base. His mom taught him the traditions when he was younger, and he made sure to practice before tonight. The prayer beads that Denki’s mother gave him earlier sat cold around his fingers, coiled around his left hand, and that’s all he could focus on as he got up and made his way to the altar. He froze once he could clearly see Denki’s body in the casket. He was adorned in a long kimono that fully covered his legs and feet. His mind flashed back to the moment Denki had died, the memory fully consuming his head. A hand on his back tore him from his flashback, Denki’s father beside him. “You can sit back down if this is too much for you. I know this is probably taking you back to that moment,” he said, and Bakugou shook his head in refusal. He’s here to honor his friend, and he’s going to do it right.

Now standing a step or two away from the altar, he took a deep breath. It was his left foot, then his right, and then putting his left next to his right as he stood directly in front of the altar. He took some of the ground incense with his right hand and put it into the burner. Placing the palms of his hands together, he kept his fingers straight and placed the outside of his thumbs on his chest and bowed again. He relaxed his hands, dropping them at his sides, and took three steps back. Right foot, left foot, together. He bowed one last time, and made his way back to his seat, where Denki’s mother rubbed his back gently, reassuring him that he did a good job.

The rest of the wake passed by quickly and it was time for people to start leaving. Bakugou’s parents walked up to him and hugged him tightly. Neither knew what to say in this moment. They knew that their son had gone through so much, but they’ve never seen him like this before. They’ve never seen him this broken, so how do they comfort him? “I’m heading back to UA,” he said softly, pulling away from his parents. He remembered how his mother called him weak after the slime villain, and how tough she’s been to him, and he just can’t deal with that right now. Mitsuki nodded and they let Bakugou leave. Mitsuki’s brain was telling her to say something, anything to try and alleviate some of the pain her son is going through, but she remained silent, watching her son’s retreating figure leave the temple.

As Bakugou and his friends left, he saw a massive group of people waiting outside, each offering incense to a massive burner. There were a couple speakers set up outside, which explained all those wires. Everyone gave him sad smiles whenever they made eye contact, and Bakugou quickly became overwhelmed with grief at the sight of all of these people. Denki would be so happy to know that so many people cared about him, and still do.

When Bakugou got back into the dorm, he quickly got ready for bed, Kirishima following suit, and the moment his body hit the bed, he was asleep.

The next morning was the funeral itself, and Bakugou had practically no energy to go, but he knew he had to. He knew that he had to be there, whether it’s for Denki, for his family, or his friends, it was the only place he needed to be today. He begrudgingly put on his suit, and Kirishima practically pulled him to the car waiting in front of the dorms. “We’re almost late dude. Let’s hope there’s no traffic,” Kirishima said, anxiety dancing in his words.

By the time they arrived, most of the seats were taken, but Mina saved them a seat next to her, Sero and the others already seated with her. Only a minute after they sat down, the ceremony started. Everything went similarly as yesterday’s although Bakugou noticed there were no speakers set up outside like last night. Another difference was the renaming ceremony, and although Bakugou understood the reasoning and tradition behind it, Bakugou could only wish that simply saying Denki’s name would bring him back to him. At the end of the service, Mina pulled out a bouquet of flowers that were placed under her chair. “I got one for everyone.” Bakugou remembered Mina texted about that the other day, although it slipped his mind completely this morning. Everyone took one, and they each placed a flower into his coffin, his head and shoulders adorned with flora.

After the coffin was sealed, the funeral ended, and Bakugou was silently glad that Denki’s mother didn’t invite him for the cremation. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to take physically picking up his friend’s bones and placing them in an urn.

For the next month everything seemed to be a blur. Bakugou’s grades faltered for a while, although Aizawa pushed him to pick up the slack. Bakugou hadn’t had a dream since his nightmare a month ago, and his sleep quality has taken a turn for the worst. There were talks of Bakugou going back to his own room, but Bakugou refused, knowing that we would have those nightmares again. Despite Bakugou’s, Kirishima’s and Aizawa’s arguments, they put Bakugou into his own room and for days, Bakugou refused to sleep. He had coffee, energy drinks, tea, whatever it took to keep him up, but one night, his body had enough, and he collapsed from exhaustion. He doesn’t remember the dream he had, but all he knows is that he woke up screaming in the infirmary. Kirishima ran in and held Bakugou, telling him, “It’s okay. You’re safe here. It’s gonna be okay,” and Bakugou’s screams quickly turned into violent sobbing. In his tears, Bakugou could barely make out the sound of Aizawa screaming outside the door. He didn’t really care to figure out what his teacher was saying, to focused on trying his best to calm down. After what felt like hours, he finally calmed down, his sobs turning into soft sniffles. Kirishima went outside and Aizawa came in almost immediately after Kirishima left.

“Hey Bakugou. I convinced the school to get you an emotional support animal. For now, I have a cat in my room that I can allow you to sleep with. She’s a cuddle bug and extremely friendly, so I think she would work well in the interim. And when you get your own emotional support animal, she does work well with other animals, already used to Eri’s animal. But if she doesn’t work, and you have nightmares, we’ll reevaluate. But all your papers are being expedited, so you’ll get your official animal soon,” Aizawa stated, and before Bakugou could respond, Aizawa left the room. Kirishima returned not long after, and handed Bakugou a bottle of water.

“Hey, I saw Aizawa leave, everything alright,” he asked Bakugou, and Bakugou huffed before responding.

“Yeah. He’s getting me an emotional support animal. He thinks having one around would help with the nightmares.” Kirishima nodded before grinning.

“That sounds like it would work! After all, you could only really sleep when I was in the same room. I think having an emotional support animal would be great for you. Would they only be for your room, or for when you’re out and about,” he asked and Bakugou shrugged.

“I only know that I get nightmares. I don’t think I get panic attacks or anything like that. But I’ll ask for one I can take in public just in case,” Bakugou said, his finger on his chin. He doesn’t know the extent of his own trauma. Sometimes it gets worse after a while, so it’s better to prepare for the worst. He chugged the water bottle and gave the empty bottle to Kirishima to throw out. Bakugou fell asleep without even realizing, and the moment Kirishima held his hand and sat down on the edge of the bed. He used his other hand to scroll through his phone for the next couple hours.

Aizawa came back a couple hours later to find Kirishima asleep next to Bakugou. The sight before him reminded him about the many sleepovers Hizashi and Oboro had during their time in UA. Smiling softly, he woke up Kirishima, sending the boy back to his room, before gently waking up Bakugou.

“Hey, I have everything ready for Cookie to spend the night at your dorm,” Aizawa said gently.

“Is Cookie the cat you were talking about,” Bakugou asked groggily. Aizawa nodded.

“She’s already in your room. I’ll walk with you back to your room so that I can make sure that she doesn’t escape.” Bakugou got up and started walking to his room with Aizawa in tow.

When Bakugou arrived at his room, he slowly opened the room to see a grayish cat covered in black specks.

“Her full name is Cookies and Cream,” Aizawa said in the doorway, smiling at the cat. Cookie ran towards Aizawa and he scooped her into his arms. “Sit down on your bed,” he ordered, and Bakugo sat down. Aizawa walked towards him and placed Cookie onto his student’s lap. “Put out a hand.” Bakugou listened, and Cookie sniffed his hand before rubbing her face on his hand, purring. Bakugou gave her a soft smile, just her presence alleviated some of his pain. “I’ll pick her up in the morning, and drop her off at night. I also left treats and a litter box here. I hope she helps.” Aizawa left after he spoke, leaving Bakugou and Cookie alone in the room. They stared at each other for a little bit before Bakugou went to get ready for bed. When Bakugou took his shower, Cookie was mewling outside the door, and after he stepped out, he opened the door, Cookie trotted towards him, and rubbed her face on his wet leg. Bakugou scoffed and brushed his teeth, and spit it out before picking up the small cat. He placed her on the bed, and told her to stay there while he got dressed. She surprisingly stayed on the bed, watching him get dressed. He climbed into his bed, and Cookie moved out the way before climbing into his bed. Cookie climbed onto his chest once he was comfortable and curled onto it. He found himself falling asleep within minutes, her purring luring him to sleep.

When he woke up, Cookie was still on his chest, moving to rub her face against his as she felt him move. Bakugou put her on his lap as he sat up, moving to get out of bed. He placed her on his shoulder, brushing his teeth, and leaving her on the toilet cover as he moved to shower. A knock sounded from his door, he quickly finished his shower and got dressed before running to open the door. Aizawa stood before him.

“I’ve come to get Cookie. I’ll bring her back around 8:30, since I know you go to bed around 9,” Aizawa said, moving to pick up the cat. “I’ll see you in class.” With Cookie in tow, Aizawa left, Bakugou feeling a little empty at the sound of his door closing.

As he arrived, the class stared at him. He knew they were aware of his nightmares, knowing that tonight was the first night he was sleeping without anyone with him. He didn’t look exhausted, and they were relieved. They knew he didn’t scream in the middle of the night, so he was okay, and that's all they wanted for their friend.

Class went just fine for the day, Bakugou showing a bit more of his old personality, calling Kirishima “Shitty Hair.” Kirishima didn’t even realize how much he missed that nickname until Bakugou said it. He could see that Bakugou was starting to heal, and that made him more than happy. If anyone needed to heal from this all, it was Bakugou.

Cookie stayed with him for a couple months, his sleep shifting from dreamless to neutral to even pleasant dreams. One morning when Aizawa came to pick her up, he gave Bakugou a letter.

“Your emotional support animal is going to be here by the end of the week. But you’re free to visit Cookie at my apartment,” he stated, and Bakugou nodded. Cookie mewled loudly, sad that she's no longer going back into his room, or able to hang out with him. Aizawa chuckled. "Please visit soon, I have a sinking feeling our little feline friend is going to miss you. Bakugou scratched her head gently and her cries turned into soft purrs of satisfaction and pleasure.

When it came time to meet his support animal, he was met with a small dog, who wore a harness labeled “service dog”. He was in the principal’s office just staring down this dog that could easily fit in a tote bag. It was super fluffy and Bakugou looked at the scene with a raised eyebrow. He kinda expected a big dog to match his big personality, practicality be damned.

“Meet Akio, the pomeranian. He’ll be your emotional support animal. Aizawa expressed that you needed one that could stay on your bed, and he’s the perfect size to share your bed with, as well as be able to go to classes and off campus with you,” Nezu said, smiling at Bakugou. He really did pity the circumstances he was in, and knew that this was something that could have been completely avoided, if only he exercised his power as the principal. “A trainer will guide you through caring for Akio. But we’ll make sure that both you and him will be taken care of, okay,” Nezu said, and Bakugou nodded. The person holding Akio’s leash handed it over to Bakugou before leaving. He stared down at the dog, and he looked up at him.

When everything was signed Bakugou went to his room, and Akio trotted happily alongside him. He got stares from classmates but no one said anything to him, rage radiating off of him. How could they give him such a cute animal? He’s Bakugou FUCKING Katsuki, aka Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Nothing about him is cute, so why is he carrying this blonde cloud around? It looks like his shedded hair from over the years formed into a giant ass hairball. He thinks they purposely picked an animal that had fur the same color as his hair.

As he arrived in his room, Akio sat down, and Bakugou lifted him up to the bed. Akio stared at his new owner, almost curious, and Bakugou grunted at the sight. He stayed perfectly on the bed, watching as Bakugou moved to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He walked out in his pajamas to see Akio waiting in front of the door, excitement lacing their face when they saw Bakugou. Grumbling, Bakugou picked him up and took him to bed, laying on his back while Akio laid on his chest. He watched as the small animal curled up on his chest and slowly fell asleep. Bakugou smirked and slowly fell asleep.

Suddenly, he was back at Ground Beta, and his body was bound the same way it was at his first Sports Festival. The metal pole behind him felt cold against his back through his gym uniform. The voice of the monster that captured him his 3rd year of middle school echoed through the space and Bakugou’s blood ran cold.

“Ah Bakugou, look at you. Your weakness is always on full display, no matter how hard you try to hide it. Quirkless Midoriya pitied you. Everyone touted you to be the next incarnation of All Might while a quirkless loser had to save you. Maybe it would have been better if I killed you then. Save you all the shame.” Bakugou sighed shakily at the words. Breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7, breathe out for 8. In, 4. Hold, 7. Out, 8. Bakugou kept repeating the pace in his head while he felt his body tremble. No. He’s wrong. Deku saving him was something he could never forget. Deku read him like a book, and he hated it at the moment, but he was happy that Deku could read him like that. If he died, he would have never got the opportunity to grow, or to apologize to Deku for everything. He would have never met his friends, Kirishima, Sero, Denki. He took a deep breath and looked up, determination lacing his features. He pulled at his restraints and yelled with exertion, the chains breaking under the stress. He then pulled away from the pole and broke the binding around his hands, before ripping off the mask.

“Listen here fuckface: I’ll live my life as authentically as I want without regret. I may have weaknesses, but no one is perfect. I’ll never be perfect, but I’ll try my damndest to get close. Deku didn’t pity me, he saw someone, a friend, in danger. He wanted to help me not because he thought I was weak but because he wanted me to live. I told him to kill himself not too long before that, and he chose to save me. Don’t you dare act like a friend protecting another friend is a sign of weakness,” he screamed out at the top of his lungs. His voice cracked time and time again, but fire raged behind his eyes. “FUCK. YOU.”

“So that means you letting me die was a sign of weakness,” a voice spat, and Bakugou immediately turned to see Denki standing behind him, fury in his features. Bakugou tried to walk towards him, but it was like his feet were glued to the floor.

“No. It’s the villain who killed you. You know for a fact that if I had known it would have hit you, I would have blasted it away. You’re one of my closest friends, and we promised that we would all travel the world once we retired,” Bakugou said softly. Denki was the one who made that plan for the both of them, Kirishima, Sero, Mina, Jirou, and Shinsou. It was a little pact between them all, and even though Bakugou spoke about how he’s not going to retire til he’s old and gray, he still held those plans close to his heart.

“Still, you allowed it to hit me. It still falls on your shoulders.” Bakugou sighed.

“You told me it wasn’t my fault, your parents and practically everyone else said the same thing. But I still feel slightly guilty for it, and I’ll probably carry that guilt for the rest of my life. I really wish I knew it was going to hit you. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't have let you die. But I can't go back. I'm stuck in this shitty ass timeline or whatever where I no longer have one of my best friends. But you know what? I won’t let some cheap knockoff of my best friend play with me like this.” Denki smirked wickedly and a bright flash blinded Bakugou before Denki laid in front of him, clutching at his legs. His legs were bloodied and mangled, and he watched as his friend started to claw at his pants, blood transferring onto his clothing. Bakugou balked at the sight before him, trying to process this before he felt more hands on the back of his legs. He turned behind him to see another Denki behind him. Looking up, he saw numerous versions of Denki crawling at him with their hands. Turning back around he saw the same sight. Chants of “your fault” filled the space, slowly rising in volume. Bakugou couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his breathing turning into hyperventilation. He kept chanting “wake up”, pinching himself, and slapping his face, but he was still stuck in the nightmare. This was all so much and he felt his brain starting to shut down, the stimulants too much for it to handle. His skin started to feel slimy, as if he was covered in spit, and he let out a soft sob, everything now overwhelming.

Bakugou woke up to Akio licking his face with a soft whine. Bakugou wrapped the dog into his arms and let out a soft sob, crying into its fur. Bakugou stayed like this for a while until sleep took him again without warning.

Bakugou woke up from a now dreamless sleep with Akio sleeping on his chest. He took the dog and moved him to his lap. Akio woke up and the movement, and gave Bakugou a quiet “woof”. Bakugou smiled gently, and took Akio with him to the bathroom, resting him on his closed hamper.

It was a small routine he built with Akio. He would tag along when Bakugou was on his morning run, as well as when he went to class. Akio would stay silent in class, seated right by Bakugou’s chair, as well as having him on the sidelines while he trains with his classmates.

After one of their classes, Aizawa gave Bakugou a small list.

“Hey, you should bond more with Akio. Here’s a list of bonding activities for you two. You should do some of them and get acquainted with one another.” Bakugou scoffed and held the letter in his hand, although Aizawa could see Bakugou reading the list as he walked away.

Over the next couple weeks, Bakugou turned Aizawa’s list into a checklist, making sure to try each of the activities that he liked. The first activity on the list was “tactile communication”. Okay, so petting him. Bakugou simply placed a hand on Akio’s forehead, and kept it still not really knowing what to do from here. He doesn’t want to pet him too hard, but petting him too softly would defeat the purpose. Akio simply just looked at Bakugou, just happy to be involved. Grumbling, he took out his phone and sat on the floor, opting to research how to properly pet an animal.

After what felt like hours of research, Bakugou decided to try petting Akio’s side, and Akio clearly liked it, his tail starting to wag. He kept a firm hand, and mirrored his movements on the opposite side, with Akio’s tail starting to speed up at the motion. He doesn’t know how long the two of them stayed like this, but when Bakugou finished, Akio licked his hand and gave him a look that he can akin to adoration. Smiling softly, Bakugou lifted Akio onto his lap, where the dog curled up, slumber soon taking him. The two of them stayed like this for a while, with Bakugou mindlessly looking through his phone, and for the first time in a long time, he finally felt normal.

The next activity listed was Movie Night. The common room was empty, and so Bakugou had the full intent of taking advantage of that. Grabbing a bowl of air popped popcorn, he sat and put on a comedy, wanting to focus on more lighthearted movie subjects for now. The fear of an action movie setting him off is non-zero, and he’s not taking that chance. And he could use the fluff of the comedy to distract him from the chaos that is his current situation. As the movie played, Akio was more focused on Bakugou than the movie itself, and the boy couldn’t help but send a small smile towards the dog when they made eye contact, before giving him a small piece of popcorn. He double and triple checked to make sure that dogs could eat popcorn, and since he air popped them himself, they should be good, although it should be in moderation like most indulgences.

It became a nightly ritual, with this becoming how Bakugou would wind down after the school day. Within days word got out about Bakugou's addition to his routine, and it started with Mina silently plopping herself next to him one night and him letting out a huff just to acknowledge her presence. The next night, it was Sero popping in alongside Mina. Then it was Jirou, then Shinsou, and then Kirishima. Bakugou put up a big show about how they're impeding on his alone time, but he can't lie to himself, knowing he missed them. His isolation is self inflicted, but it's all he knew. Growing up, whenever he was going through it emotionally, he always went into his room and worked out his emotions alone. He internalized everything, letting all of his negative emotions fester until they were too much to handle. He was a shaken soda bottle ready to pop almost always, and sometimes he did pop, lashing out at the people he was closest to.

Bakugou looked at the next item on his list, communal eating. It started with Bakugou putting out Akio’s dinner at the same time, and eating on the floor beside him. Akio clearly enjoyed it, looking at Bakugou with pure adoration in his eyes. It then developed into Bakugou making food with the intent of sharing pieces of it with Akio. The dog was more than excited to share, and Bakugou found Akio extremely adorable in the joy clear in the dog's face, and he honestly could get used to this.

Bakugou also took Akio out on his daily runs. Akio easily kept pace with the explosive hero, and Bakugou was extremely proud that Akio could keep up. After all, if his name means hero, it would also mean that he should be able to keep up with the future number 1 hero, right? It was so weird for his friends to see Bakugou smiling so softly at the dog every time he would come back from his run. Mina swears that she saw Bakugou kiss the dog once, although no one believes her.

Bakugou also tries talking to Akio and it was so awkward at first. He would talk to Akio like he was one of his classmates. He was speaking in complex sentences, like he could understand. He swore up and down that he could, but no one cared. He scolded anyone who would baby talk at Akio.

"He's not a fucking dumbass. Don't talk to him like he's stupid," he would always yell. No one would never listen, and he would threaten to take away dog petting privilege, which was always an effective punishment.

One morning, as Bakugou made his way to class, Aizawa stopped him.

"Bakugou, you're gonna be meeting with your therapist during first period. I'll stay with you after the end of the day so I can catch you up with what you missed," Aizawa said, placing a gentle hand on Bakugou's shoulder. Bakugou nodded and Aizawa walked him to a little office in the corner. "This is my office. They're an external therapist, because this isn't something the school social worker is equipped to deal with at their own admission. I'll cover the cost so see them as many times as you need." Bakugou walked in as Aizawa opened the door, and he saw a woman almost staring into his soul.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Takami, and I'll be your therapist. I specialize in PTSD, especially in heroes and children. Mr. Aizawa reached out to me and gave me the general jist of the circumstances, but I would like to understand more from you." She sat down behind a small desk, and gestured to a chair sitting across from her. Bakugou say down and stared at her warily. Aizawa left them and it was a tense silence until Dr. Takami spoke.

"I know you don't know me, but I want to help you. We can work on building trust over time, but I need you to open up to me so I can get you the help you need." Bakugou sighed and crossed his arms, scooting closer to Dr. Takami. "Let's start with something simple. How is your emotional support dog doing?"

"He's alright. Clingy as all hell. But he's a spit fire. He likes to bark at people who get too close, mainly because they try to pet him. He snarls and bares his teeth, but always softens around me." Dr. Takami raised an eyebrow. "I hate people in my personal space. I only let my friends hug me or stay close to me. Akio makes it so I don't have to say no to people. He hasn't attacked anyone and is nice to my friends so it's all good."

"And your sleep?"

"Better. The nightmares come, but Akio makes them easier to deal with."

"How are you coping without Akio? He's not meant to be the only way of dealing with your trauma," Dr. Takami said, leaning forward. Bakugou coughed and scratched his head. "Okay. So looks like we have to go through coping mechanisms. From what I can tell, your big thing is reliving the moment, so let's focus on grounding." Dr. Takami took Bakugou through a simple exercise, doing a countdown with each sense. She also took him through breathing exercises. "Akio is there to help. Just don't use him as your only form of coping, okay?" Bakugou nodded. "Well, here's a good point to stop. We'll be meeting weekly, unless you want to meet more frequently. Practice the exercises to get used to them, and memorize them. I know that you may not remember it in the heat of the moment, but it's better to know it and just forget it in that instance than to not have it at all. I would also suggest you have some trusted friends and adults aware of these so that they can walk you through it during an episode. I'll send this to your school email so you can send it to whoever you'd like." Bakugou nodded and Dr. Takami sent out an email to Bakugou. He quickly sent it to Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Shinsou and Aizawa.

"Okay, so, with that out of the way, how to do want me to help you," she asked.

"What do you mean," Bakugou huffed out.

"Do you want advice or just a shoulder to cry on in silence? I can also just listen to your pain. I ask this at the top of my sessions."

"Oh, uh, I guess advice." Dr. Takami nodded.

"Feel free at any point to 'switch modes', such as switching to a shoulder to cry on. This is your session. Customize it as you see fit." Bakugou stared at the doctor. Maybe this can be a safe space for him.

"Well, uh, does this whole thing get any easier," he asked.

"Kind of. Trauma is a fickle thing. Some people heal so well it's like the trauma never happened. Some people get worse as time passed. The status of your mental health isn't linear. Even those who I mentioned who fully 'healed' could go right back to square one, or even get worse. So don't focus on that aspect of healing. Focus on you. Acknowledge you'll have set backs and aim to overcome them. And as for therapy being easy, it never it. Right now, I'm some random stranger to you. Even when we start to become familiar with each other, it's still going to be hard for you to open up to me at times. And that's okay. This 'relationship' between us as a therapist and patient is going to have growing pains. But that's something the both of us can get through together." Bakugou nodded as she spoke. She gave a brief pause, before pulling out a notebook. "Try Journaling. Write down your emotions, whatever is plaguing your mind and reflect on it once a week." He took the note book, and the bell rang, signing the end of the session. Both he and Dr. Takami stood up, and she extended a hand to him. He shook it firmly and they both made their way out of the office to continue their day.

That weekend, the group all settled in Bakugou's room, papers in hand.

"I'll just do the breathing exercises. Shitty Hair, you start." Kirishima cleared his throat.

"Okay. I'll do the 4, 7, 8 one," Bakugou nodded and kept eye contact with the redhead. "So breathe in for 4 seconds, hold for 7, and breathe out for 8. In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8. Got it?" Bakugou nodded. "Okay, so let's start. Breathe in 1, 2, 3, 4." Bakugou inhaled with each count. "Hold 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7." Bakugou held his breath in time with Kirishima's count. "Out, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8." Bakugou exhaled, closing his eyes. Kirishima repeated the exercise over and over again, Bakugou getting into the swing of things. "Alright! Nice job Baku-bro!!! Keep it up!" Kirishima's smile rivaled the sun, and Bakugou won't say it aloud, but he was so lucky to have Kirishima in his life. Kirishima was his rock throughout everything. He's scared to think about how he would have gotten through all of the chaos that is now his life without having Kirishima by his side. Don't get him wrong, everyone else was also huge in his healing, but it was Kirishima who was there when Bakugou first had nightmares, who slept in his room and held his hand that first night. Kirishima is invaluable, and truly irreplaceable to him.

That same night, Bakugou opened his journal and knew what his first entry would be.

Dear Pikachu,

Hey, it's been too long. God, I miss you every minute of every day. It's been so weird with you gone. Nothing is the same. The movies we watched aren't the same, the foods we ate aren't the same, I tried to eat one of your favorite snacks, and it tasted like sand in my mouth. I couldn't even swallow it.

I find myself asking why. Why were you taken from us? I know it isn't my fault, or at least that's what everyone says, but I still wish I could have saved you. What's the point of being a hero if I can't even save the people closest to me? I almost gave up on being a hero, but I know you would absolutely beat my ass if I did. Mina already threatened to do so.

I hope you're at peace. Not even for my conscious, or to alleviate guilt, but because you're a good person Denki. Honestly, anyone who interacts with me regularly outside of mandated periods of time deserve a lot of good things. I'm not the easiest to work with, I know this. But you all were patient enough to get past my walls I so carefully created with ease.

Oh, by the way, I started therapy. The doctor seemed alright. She recommended I start the journal, and I wanted to start it off with something "nice and pleasant" so I can come back to it when I have a really bad time.

I fucking miss you Denki. I'll see you some day.

One afternoon, Aizawa got an email summoning him to Nezu's office, and as he walked in, he could tell the air was tense.

"You need to stop emailing the commission." Aizawa stared at Nezu incredulously.

"We're letting kids die," Aizawa spat out.

"There's nothing I can do! You think I enjoy having to deal with the work it takes to hide the deaths? That I have to constantly lie to parents about how their child died? There's a reason there's a high turnover rate for the principal role. It drains you. That we have to downplay the deaths so the school’s optics are safe-"

"Fuck the school’s optics," Aizawa screamed out. "Denki was a great kid! He didn’t have to die and both of us know it. The defenses around the school haven't been updated or even fixed since we used the school as a stronghold. If we updated the school's security system, he would still be alive." Nezu sighed.

"Aizawa. I want to fix it. I really do. But I can't do anything without the commission's permission."

"Nezu, we both know that the commission won't do a thing to protect these kids. They've failed time and time again. What will it take for them to actually start caring?"

"I don't know. I've begged and I've pleaded with them to do something. I had to frame the dorms as a good PR move before they made them in the first place. I hate that I can't do anything, but I'd much rather it be me who will try and find ways to make the school at least a little safer than a 'yes' man who doesn't care whether the kids live or die being in direct control of their safety. I'm livid that I have to say this, but I'm the lesser evil here." Nezu was right. If someone directly from the commission was in charge, they would only see the kids as numbers, and dollar signs rather than actual human beings. He's seen how much Nezu cares for these kids, holding meeting after meeting to ensure their safety on the staff side of things. If the commission can't put in effort to protect the kids, Nezu made sure that the teachers and staff did. Aizawa sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm tired of this Nezu. It needs to stop."

"I know. I'm tired too. But the only way the commission will care is if their wallets start to hurt. And unless some huge scandal comes out, I doubt we'll see that," Nezu sighed. "But please stop emailing them. They're slowly looking to fire you, and I really don't want to see you go. I need you here with me. There's only so much fighting I can do for you, but play it safe, alright?" Aizawa scowled at Nezu's request before walking out of the room. If a scandal is what it takes for the commission to take care of the kids, he'll give them one they'll never recover from.

One night, Bakugou was in the kitchen when he heard the “Breaking News” jingle sound from the TV in the common room. Bakugou turned to turn off the television, grumbling about people leaving the TV on when he saw the tag line. “UA Covers Student Fatalities.” Bakugou turned up the volume, sitting on the couch. Akio hopped up on the couch, before settling down on Bakugou's lap. The small dog curled up but stared intensely at the young hero, sensing the anxiety and anger creeping through the young hero.

“An anonymous source has exposed a bombshell to numerous media platforms, stating that UA has been lying about how many students have died under their care, as well as their lack of protections for interning students. Several students have died, but the most recent has been Denki Kaminari, who died due to a villain infiltrating the school’s training ground. This isn’t the first time villains have infiltrated UA’s grounds, Denki belonging to the same class that was attacked at the USJ arena, as well as during their training camp, where his best friend Bakugou Katsuki was famously kidnapped by the League of Villains. How many kids have died to UA’s incompetence, and how many more will die before they finally take action,” the anchor said, and Bakugou felt his breath ripped from his chest. Bakugou was filled with grief before he was filled with a righteous fury. He banged on the door of every single classmate, going floor by floor until he gathered everyone into one room. Akio trotted alongside Bakugou, peering up at him periodically.

“Look up UA on your phones. Right now,” he growled out. He didn’t even want to wait for them to ask questions, but confused whispers turned into stunned silence. “People keep telling me that it wasn’t my fault, it was the villains, but now it’s the school’s fault. After we kept getting attacked on our grounds, you would think that they would have more protections in place to make sure it never happens again, but they didn’t. Denki didn’t have to fucking die! He didn’t have to be fucking crushed in a villain attack if the school had actually bolstered the defenses around the training grounds. How many teachers knew? How many of them knew that students were dying and said nothing,” he yelled. He was fuming, his chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes were wild. Aizawa walked in, and walked right up to Bakugou. Before Bakugou could yell, Aizawa leaned in next to his ear.

“I was the anonymous source. I can’t explain here on campus, but I was tired of watching this all happen. I would like all of us to meet elsewhere so I can explain everything,” Aizawa whispered, and he stood back up before Bakugou mouthed the words “my house.” If Aizawa wanted to be discrete, there was something up. Was the school listening to them? Was he not safe? Bakugou knew that everyone had to leave, the school would be on high alert soon, with parents coming in to take their kids out of the school. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were already parents here. Bakugou walked over to Kirishima.

“Everyone needs to come back to my house. Leave in groups from different exits. The school is maybe watching us. Make sure to inform everyone and only the group with me can tell people we’re going to my house. Everyone else needs to make up their own excuses,” he whispered into his friend’s ear. He knew it was a mouthful, but as long as they understood “Come to my house, and tell no one,” nothing else mattered. He moved to whisper into Mina’s ear, then to Shinsou, Sero, Jirou, Deku and Todoroki. Before long, the entire class knew the game plan. Bakugou moved out first with Sero, Mina, Kirishima, Jirou and Shinsou in tow. They were stopped by a staff member, but when asked about where they were going, he simply said was going home, and they were coming along at his mother’s request. It wasn’t the first time that she invited his friends over, so his excuse was plausible. They were able to make their way off campus, taking the bus home. Bakugou wore a face mask, knowing that his face is probably plastered everywhere.

After they got off, they walked through busy streets, UA on everyone’s tongues. Bakugou drowned them out, focusing on making it back home. His friends were silent, dread weighing them down. Bakugou would alway be heavy with sorrow if he wasn’t so filled with anger. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

As Aizawa made his way to Bakugou’s house, all he could think of was the oath he took to himself when he first became a teacher. He took an oath to protect thr children. He swore that he would happily die if it meant his students were alive. Oboro's death really changed him. He never wanted to see any kid go through any like that. But he's constantly reminded of his failure when he constantly had to deal with parents who were asking about their child and if there were any updates regarding their "missing" child. It's so easy for him to be swallowed whole by the negative emotions these feelings invoke. But he can't fail his kids again, not anymore.

As he arrived at his house, he saw his mother waiting at the door. “Your teacher is here. What the fuck is going on Katsuki,” she spat out. She wasn’t angry at him, but at the situation in her lap. She entrusted her kid to UA, and they hurt her son so bad she doesn’t know if he’ll be okay ever again. Bakugou walked past his mother, not wanting to deal with her anger and heads right to Aizawa who's sitting on the couch.

“The rest of the class is gonna be here soon. What you have to say better be real fucking good to make up for what you’ve done,” Bakugou said, venom dripping with every word. Aizawa knew that he deserved all the anger his students felt towards him, and maybe even more.

After all the students filed in, Bakugou requested Momo create a Signal Jammer, with the intent of it blocking out any bugs on their phones. After they confirmed it was active, Aizawa started speaking. "As I told Bakugou, I'm the anonymous source. I was the one who told the press about the school.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before continuing. “I became a teacher because I didn’t want Oboro to happen again. I wanted to protect students and make sure that students didn’t die. But then I found out that kids die at UA more than any other school, and I’ve been fighting them for years to get better regulations to protect the kids, so I stayed to protect them the best I can. But to see Denki die, and see you all in pain was the straw that broke the camel's back. I'm tired of comforting parents and then knowing there's only a matter of time before the next set of parents have to come. I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting the school to protect our kids only to be ignored. I’ve seen principal after principal come in, then leave because the weight of the wrongs they see are too heavy to continue to carry, and so they leave. Even with Nezu, the light in his eyes I saw when he first came is now gone. So it definitely comes from higher up, although I don’t know how high up this goes. But I want to make sure that you kids know the truth. I want to finally make sure that Oboro or Denki never happens again.” Aizawa gets on his knees and fully bows in front of the class. “I’m so sorry I failed you, as a hero, as an adult, as a teacher, and as a mentor.” Bakugou walked over to Aizawa and helped him stand up.

“You didn’t fail us. You fought to protect us, and put your job at risk to make sure that we get protected moving forward. You’re the only one who didn’t fail us,” Bakugou said, and Aizawa gave him a wet smile. Mina walked over to him and hugged him, Kirishima following suit. Slowly more and more of the class hugged him, sniffles bouncing through the pile. Bakugou was the last one to join the pile. It took a bit, but the class finally broke away.

“You all should go home. UA is going to be an ugly sight in the morning, between the parents pulling their kids out, bereaved family members who just found out their kid's death was preventable, and the press. I don’t want you all to have cameras in the face while you’re trying to study, or while your parents are unenrolling you. Stay safe, and lay low for a bit. It’s truly been an honor to be your teacher, and whether or not you stay, I am so proud of the people each of you became. I wish you all the best in life,” Aizawa said before leaving. Everyone looked at each other, trying to decompress and process the information, and Bakugou’s mother offered the floor to everyone, but Momo offered her home instead, since there’s a lot more space for everyone to sleep as well as her butler being more than capable to cook a meal for 20-something people. She sent a text, and within the hour, a small bus pulled up in front of the Bakugou home, the class piling in. Sero, Mina, Shinsou, Jirou and Kirishima stayed behind, choosing to sleep over at Bakugou’s place.

Before they knew it, the morning came, and Bakugou turned on the news to see a massive crowd of people swarming in front of the school. The newscasters were picking up the angry yells coming from the crowd. There was a visible line of parents who were waiting to get in, and Bakugou could only laugh seeing the school face the consequences of their actions. The newscaster mentioned the school has a planned press conference. He wondered what sad excuses the school would make to try and salvage their relationship with the public. Whatever it would be, there’s no way it would make up for the lives they’ve ruined. He changed the channel to see a pair of familiar faces on the screen.

“Denki didn’t have to die! Our baby didn’t have to die! We didn’t have to cremate our only child but we had to due to the school’s incompetence! We lost a piece of ourselves, but know this could have been prevented, that our son could still be here with us if it wasn’t for the school’s incompetence makes me furious,” Denki’s mother said. Her voice was shaking with anger, her face red with anger. Her husband rubbed her back reassuringly, and he may seem calm but Bakugou could easily spot the rage swimming behind his eyes.

"The school isn't going to fucking get away with this," Bakugou hissed. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to be face to face with Kirishima. Kirishima had a look of pure anger on his face.

"We're gonna make sure they pay for this. All of us," he said, and confirmations sounded around the room.

Meanwhile at UA, Nezu pulled Aizawa to the side before they were set to go on stage for the press conference.

"I hope you're happy with your choice." Aizawa raised an eyebrow at Nezu's words.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your decision in going rogue will have consequences, and ones you won't like. So I hope it's worth it." Aizawa didn't detect any malice in Nezu's words. "It's been an honor working with you."

"You're leaving?" Aizawa was in shock.

"They needed a scapegoat. They don't know the leak, so it'll fall to me as the principal. At least I no longer have to shoulder the burden of being unable to save the kids."

"Do you think this'll be enough to get the commission to step up?"

"This alone? No. But I fully believe that Bakugou and his friends will be the driving force to make that change."

"But they're just kids, that's a lot to put on them," Aizawa sighed out.

"I know. But we as adults were never able to make a difference so maybe hearing it from Bakugou will be the fire under them that causes them to move. That boy was made for TV you know. He's loud and in your face. His natural personality would be enough to make sure that the commission won't be able to live it down as long as he's vocal." Aizawa sighed. "I really do hope this is enough. Good luck Aizawa. Lay low, and stay safe."

"And what about you Nezu?" Nezu chuckled.

"Thanks for the concern friend, but I'll be fine. I'll be in hiding for a while till the heat slightly dies down, and I'll move out of the country and start fresh." Nezu stuck out his hand and Aizawa shook it. "See you again some day." The both of them moved to the stage, where they were blinded by lights from camera flashes. Aizawa didn't even sit down, standing behind the chair with a placard with his name engraved into it positioned on the table right in front of it. Nezu sat down and looked forward.

"I'm here regarding the allegations regarding UA's lack of protection for our students. I firstly want to apologize for the pain my negligence has caused both directly and indirectly. You as parents trusted my staff and I to protect your children and keep them safe while they were enrolled into our school, and on our grounds, and I failed. The kids deserve better, which is why I'm stepping down." A cacophony of questions filled the room and he internally sighed. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to making this announcement, but the pressure from the higher-ups left him no choice. He was the fall guy, the scapegoat, and he hates this. The conversation he had earlier replayed his mind.

"Nezu. I'm sorry, but we need you to resign," a feminine voice stated on the phone. He was stunned, his brain trying to process this information. He looked around his office, thinking that this will be the last time he'll be sitting at his desk.

"Madame President, what are you talking about?"

"With you taking the fall, the focus and heat on us will shift to you, and the anger towards us will eventually fade away. It's sad that you have to take the blame, but it's for the greater good." The greater good of their wallet. "We'll compensate you handsomely, and help you in hiding til the heat dies down, and moving you out of the country with a new identity so you can restart." Nezu sighed. It's not like he has a choice. He knows what the commission will do if he goes against them, and he very much would like to live.

"Okay. I'll resign during the press conference."

"Thank you Nezu, it's been a pleasure working with you, and good luck moving forward." The phone call ended and he placed his hands into his palms before quietly sobbing.

Nezu left without taking questions, his obligation to the school and the commission done and over with.

What happened to him? He's an educator who was focused on his kids, and allowing them to thrive. When he got the offer at UA, he was excited to start working with the school. It was a dream come true, although the dream easily became a nightmare. He was told to either help them hide the deaths, or quit, and he couldn’t imagine quitting. The system failed these kids, and Nezu wanted to help the kids no longer be victimized by the system wherever he could. One of these days, this blatant disregard for student safety will stop. It has to.

As he went backstage, Bakugou stood there, staring him down.

"Aizawa told me you tried to fix things," he said gruffly.

"Yes I did. I begged the financial department to fix things, but I was always told it's not in the budget. I'm tired of kids getting hurt and dying all the time. You're kids! You have your whole lives ahead of you, and it's getting exhausting constantly seeing it happen and feeling powerless to stop it."

"Thank you for sticking up for us Nezu." Nezu gave Bakugou a soft smile. It took load off his chest that Bakugou didn't hate his guts like most of his kids did. He's taking the fall for something that he actively tried to stop and is powerless to defend himself or his kids.

"You're a strong and smart kid. You can make sure this never happens again." These were his final words to his final student, walking out of the venue. The commission can fucking rot for all he cares. They deserve the reckoning that's coming, and do much more. Nezu can't wait to watch them burn.

Back in the venue, Aizawa walks up to Bakugou and pats him on the back.

"The backstage area isn't bugged. I checked numerous times," Aizawa said, moving to sit on the floor. "I hope you're ready for the storm that's coming. I know I'm not." Bakugou sat down next to his ex-teacher.

"I have good people on my side, so I'll be okay." Aizawa nodded, and they both sat there in a comfortable silence for a while, until Bakugou stood up. "I'll see you around."

From that day on, Bakugou was scheduling press conferences on top of media appearances, the fire in his heart burning brighter than ever. The commission felt the heat, and needed to do something and fast before they burn from the intensity.

At a morning talk show, Bakugou hyped himself up in the green room. The usual suspects were all gathered there, drowning him with encouragement.

"Baku-bro, I'll be on the sidelines with Akio in case you need us. Answer whatever questions you feel comfortable answering. If they ask you something that you don't wanna answer, don't. Tell them to move on, give them a dumb answer, whatever you want," Kirishima said, patting him on his back and smiling brightly. Bakugou scoffed and gave him a smirk.

"Go give 'em hell," Mina cheered. Bakugou walked out and got set up with his mic. He was ushered out to the stage the sound of cheering, it getting louder with each step he took. As he stood on the stage, the host tried to hug him, but Bakugou backed away, forcefully sticking his hand out for a handshake. When will these hosts learn not to touch him? The host shook his hand, and they broke to sit on their chairs.

"Hi Bakugou, it's nice to have you here," the host cheerily stated.

"Thank you for having me."

"You've been real busy lately, with this huge press tour," the host said, giving a sickly sweet smile. Bakugou could sense the malice behind it. She was so prim and proper, her nails clearly expensive, and her outfit was easily the cost of numerous houses. Her hair was perfectly coiled and she looked like a doll, and it sickened him.

"Yeah, well, I want to keep the incident with UA fresh in people's minds. We can't afford to forget it. We forget it and their deaths will mean nothing. Everything will continue as 'normal' and kids will go back to dying needlessly."

"So you're saying that it's all UA's fault," the host asked, clearly asking for clarification.

"Yes. Even in the case of Denki, where he was killed by a villain, it's still partially UAs fault because the villain wouldn't haven't been able to get on the campus if UA's security wasn't lacking."

"So if it was partially UA's fault for Denki's death, isn't it also your fault," the host asked, and Bakugou's blood ran cold. The crowd let out a soft "oooh" in response..

"What," Bakugou choked out, his heart rate starting to spike.

"Well, you're blaming UA. But you could have pushed the rubble out of the way. So isn't Denki’s death partially your fault," the host observed. Bakugou started to shake, and Kirishima ran onto the stage, placing Akio on his friend's lap. Bakugou started to hyperventilate and Kirishima took him through breathing exercises, simultaneously ripping off Bakugou's mic and throwing it to the side. The audience was dead silent, and the host looked awkward as they watched the scene unfold in front of her. The rest of the friend group ran out and surrounded Bakugou, to hide his breakdown from everyone's view. Mina stomped over to the host.

"How dare you! Do you know what you're saying?! Bakugou has been through hell and back! You don't think Bakugou hasn't blamed himself this whole time?! You sit here as a whole adult saying something like that to a child who witnessed their own friend died?!" The crowd murmured and started to boo, and the host attempted to calm down the audience, but the boos got louder. The group got up and helped Bakugou out of the studio.

After he got home, he got a call from Dr. Takami.

"Hey, how are you feeling right now," she asked.

"Like shit."

"That's understandable with what happened. I'm sorry that happened to you and on live television. I don’t have any appointments, so I can give you a quick session," she suggested.

"That would be great."

"Okay then. I'm glad you're using your exercises. I saw Kirishima went through them with you," she stated.

"Yeah. I appreciated it."

"Well, you understand it isn't your fault, right?"

"Yeah. I think she was paid by the commission to say that."

"What makes you think that," she asked.

"Because this was out of the blue. The commission felt public pressure mounting and they wanted to discredit me to alleviate some of it," he stated.

"Well, I know it had the opposite reaction. The support for you has skyrocketed, people admiring your bravery, and the strength you've shown in the face of all the things you've gone through. But no one is expressing pity, or insinuating you're weak. And I'll reiterate, you're such a strong kid, and you deserve none of the things that have come to you. You should have had a normal and trauma free childhood, but unfortunately not everyone can have that. So just keep your head up, alright?"

They spoke for two hours before she hung up, and once Bakugou was free of her, his mother knocked on his bedroom door.

"Katsuki, I don't really know how yo comfort you, but let me try my best," came from the opposite side of the door. He opened the door to see his mother standing outside. She looked almost sheepish, and rather than question it, he moved to the side and allowed her to enter his room. Moving to sit on his bed, they kept eye contact and sat down next to each other.

"Katsuki, you truly are the best Bakugou. I haven't been the beat mother at all, and I'm ready to acknowledge that. But seeing my baby in pain hurt more than anything else. I want to help. I want to find ways to make you feel more comfortable, because your emotions matter," Mitsuki sighed out. She knew she was lacking as a parent for some time, but her son isn't going to her at all in one of his darkest moments!. He hasn't shown her any emotions in a private setting, shutting her out mentally.

"Your father doesn't know I'm apologizing, but I love you Katsuki. You're my kid. I wanna protect you from all the bad things, even though you're becoming a hero. I want you to be be happy, healthy and secure," she continued, looking at Bakugou with tears in her eyes.

"Would you like you go to family therapy," Bakugou asked, and Mitsuki shook her head.

"Not right now. You have so much on your plate, and I don't wanna impede. Focus of healing yourself, and we'll focus on healing the family when you get to a good and comfortable point in your healing." Bakugou nodded, and Mitsuki stood up. "Please remember that you're loved by not just your father and I. You have a whole found family that you hang out with from your school. We have diy projects you guys can do so you aren't sitting in the house bored." Bakugou rolled his eyes, but smiled at his mother. She thinks this is the first time on a long time she's seen Bakugou smiling genuinely and she wants to do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her son’s face. She walked out, but not without giving Bakugou a small kiss on his forehead, which he grumpily accepted, and they both carried on with their days. Bakugou moved to write in his journal.

Hey Pika,

Today was fucking hard. Some chick on TV was trying to make it look like it was my fault you died. Can you fucking believe that?! It's not fair. She's a grown ass adult trying to bully me!! I think the commission paid her to say this. They want to discredit me and by association my claims, so that the backlash they face is lessened. But no, fuck them. I want them to suffer.

Oh, by the way, I appreciate you coming into my dreams lately. It's been super helpful. It helps me get back to a sense of normalcy. Although if you keep playing pranks, I'll fight you. I mean it.

For the next week, Bakugou was forced to go on a social media cleanse. Mina deleted all of the apps and Bakugou stayed at home, only going out when his friends picked him up.

As for the host? She was fired within an hour of the show's airing, and her show was quickly canceled. She didn't even offer an apology, her social media now silent.

For the next month, Bakugou was still doing his press tour, although it was a lot lighter than before. The questions were now screened, and if they veered off script even once, Bakugou would just leave mid interview.

It was so weird became now his face was plastered everywhere. He was constants getting recognized in public, and at first if was cool, but when he's starting to feel it encroach on his daily life, he's had enough. Rather than be kind to his fans, he would be mean, hoping they would get the hint that they aren't wanted. And it worked, kinda. His mean words and behaviors got so many people to leave him alone, but it also got people to find that behavior endearing. Those people, he thinks, are the worst. He'll tell them to fuck off, and they'll giggle and stay. He doesn’t know how many times he got them arrested for stalking, but it's starting to really get to him. Is what he's doing worth such flagrant disrespect of his personal boundaries and space? Unfortunately. Bakugou’s finds the answer to this is yes. So he holds that mindset close to his chest to remind him why he keeps going.

One morning, Bakugou was awoken to his phone's notifications going off non-stop. He opened his phone to see so many links being sent. He opened one of them to see UA in the news yet again, but for a different reason. He ran to his living room and turned on his TV, changing it to the nearing news channel.

"Thank you for joining us this morning, we have breaking news regarding UA. According to an anonymous source, the Public Safety Hero Commission was the reason behind the lack of safety at UA. Numerous news organizations were handed documents showing that they ignored pleas from high ranking UA staff, including formerly disgraced principal Nezu. With these documents, it looks like the UA staff and faculty were making efforts to protect the children while the Commission did nothing to make sure the kids are safe. We'll keep you updated with new information as we get it." Bakugou stood there in silence as Akio trotted over and rubbed himself against his legs. Bakugou picked the dog up and took him to his room, sobbing into him and holding him firmly.

Meanwhile, Aizawa sat in his office watching the news. His phone rang, and he picked it up, giving a gruff greeting.

"Aizawa, thank you for giving me courage. I wouldn't have done what I did without you. If the fire under them wasn't scalding before, it definitely is now." Aizawa was shocked at the sound of Nezu's voice, but before he could say anything, Nezu hung up. Aizawa sat there, processing.

UA tried to hold a press conference, but there was nothing they could really say to make people trust them again. To Bakugou, this felt like the fall of heroes after the Paranormal Liberation War. It was terrifying, because would society crumble yet again?

Aizawa called Bakugou to inform him of the press conference. The teacher offered Bakugou the chance to speak at his own press conference. Bakugou agreed, calling his friends to join him.

As he sat down at the table for the press conference, he sighed.

"Please keep your trust in the heroes, during this time. None of them knew. It'll be ridiculous for you all to attack heroes and hate them for something that isn't their fault. Direct your anger towards the executives at the commission. They're the bastards that let Denki die," Bakugou stated. The reporters asked questions, and Bakugou answered them briskly.

After the conference, Bakugou made his way home, emotionally drained. A small chirp sounded from his phone and he opened it to see a small text from Dr. Takami expressing her pride in him for going through the press conference.

As he opened his door, a couple of people in suits were waiting on his couch. He counted only three, all sitting on the same couch. Bakugou quickly turned his phone's recorder on, thankful that he had headphones on with an exposed mic.

"Bakugou Katsuki, we applaud you. You managed to turn the public against us. That's not an easy feat," the one in the middle said. So they're the leader, he noted to himself.

"The fuck do you want from me," Bakugou growled out.

"We want you to rescind your statements, and stop your tour of slander."

"Slander?! You all knew what was going on, and did nothing to stop it! In fact, you refused to do anything to stop it. Denki's blood, and every student who died due to your negligence's blood are on your hands. I hope that they haunt your dreams and that none of you find peace again."

"You don't want to get into a media war with us. You'll lose. We have the money, the resources and the connections to absolutely ruin you."

"Look at you, a grown ass adult threatening a kid. Are you and the commission really that scared of my voice? We're already in a media war. You started this when you had that host blame me on TV. But the funny thing is, you're losing the war. So your resources and shit mean nothing to me. But you're welcome to try." The person snarled and stood up, the others getting up.

"You'll regret this Bakugou," they stated.

"So will you." They stormed out of the house, and Mitsuki ran to hug Bakugou.

"You okay," she asked.

"Yeah, I'm just peachy," he spay out.

"We're gonna make sure they don't get away with this. How dare they threaten a child?! How dare they threaten my child? I want to make them regret every aspect of their lives," Mitsuki spat out. Bakugou gave his mother a feral smile.

"Of course, we'll give them hell. We're the Bakugous after all." Mitsuki’s grin resembled that of her son's afterhisstatement. .

"We'll make them regret it," Mitsuki spat out.

And regret it they did. Bakugou sent the recording to as many news stations as he possibly could. The news spread like wildfire. Protests sparked all over Japan, calling for the dissolution of the commission. By the end of the day, numerous high ranking officials had resigned, hitting about 16. By the end of the week, that number hit 80, including all of the chief officers. Pride filled his chest seeing these numbers. Bakugou knew this was only the start.

For months the commission's leadership was constantly changing, and after 6 months, the commission was fully disbanded, the hero rankings not mattering as much, simply devolving into a popularity contest. There were so many things to be said about that, but no really cared, the rankings turned into beauty pagent. UA's leadership also took a huge turn as well, hiring a team dedicated to student safety, hiring teachers and high ranking officers to make sure students are safe and protected. Countless amounts of funding that was liquidated from the now defunct commission was sent to UA for the upgrading and repairing of their security system.

Not before long, the school year started again, and Bakugou sat in the wings of a stage in front of UA. The class of 3-A stood around him. He was due to give a speech shortly, but opted to write a journal entry.

Hey Denks,

God this has all been a lot. We're in our 3rd year, and there's little changes in so many aspects of our lives. The school put a bunch of charging stations around the campus and called them "Chargebolt stations". Corny, I know. But it's hysterical, and you would have loved to see it.

UA looks super pretty now. They spent I don’t even know how much on renovations. The new administration said "no one has to die again" and meant it, and that's a relief. The new administration genuinely cares about student safety and well-being. They hired a bunch of therapists too, so that they could help students adjust to the massive changes that happened.

For me, I'm still the same Bakugou. I really do think you and Akio would get along well. He seems to like bothering me the same way you did, late at night. But I can sleep at night comfortably because of him.

Your parents constantly drop by my place to check on me. Our parents are now really good friends with each other, going out almost bi-daily. It's fucking weird, not gonna lie, but its also nice. It feels like a part of you is here with me also complaining about it.

Right now, I'm waiting to give a speech at the grand reopening of UA. I told you I did all those press tours, and people are saying that the renovations are because of me, so they tagged me to give the opening remarks. But to be honest, it's not fully my work. Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and Shinsou also helped me out greatly. But the biggest factor is you. I know you're cheering for me and that's what keeps me going. I imagine you're giving me an encouraging speech when I want to give up, and giving me that kind words that I needed. You're truly amazing Denks.

Bakugou closed his journal and moved to when the exit, hyping himself up for the speech. Akio is beside him, also excited, although it more because he got a new leash. His name is called, and he walks up the podium..

"Thank you for showing up. It took so much to get to this point, but I'm glad we're here. UA is safer, and we can make sure that Denki's death serves as a lesson in student safety. I pushed for this change, but if it wasn’t for the amazing people I get to call my friends,I wouldn't have gotten as far as I did. Their words of encouragement did more for me than they could ever know. It's a lot for us to have gone through, but for all of us involved, we have nowhere to go but up," he spoke into the podium. It's so weird when he has to sound well spoken, and not aggressive because people wouldn't want to listen to him and his message if he spoke and behave like he normally did. He felt a couple hands snake around him, and he turned to see Denki's parents behind him, holding him tightly. His own parents joined in the hug, and it quickly devolved into a cuddle puddle with Mina and the others also joining the group hug. It almost felt suffocating, but he didn't mind at all, focused on the feeling of his friends and family all together. The bright sun shone down on him, and in its warmth, he felt like Denki was hugging him, comforting him, and for the first time in a long time, Bakugou finally felt like everything would be alright.

#mha angst #bnha angst #denki angst #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #my hero academia angst #boku no hero academia angst #my hero angst #boku no hero angst #denki kaminari angst #bakugo katsuki angst #bakugou katsuki angst #kaminari denki angst #katsuki bakugo angst #katsuki bakugou angst

[more-than-a-princess]

◈   TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

favourite colour(s): Royal/sapphire blue! I also love: navy, cool-toned red, pastels like blush pink/lilac/dusty blue, cream, and black.

favourite flavour(s): Not sure what qualifies as a flavor per se, but my favorite foods are cannoli, chicken tikka masala, champagne, tea, spaghetti carbonara, and lemon Fanta. My favorite restaurants are French, Italian, Korean, and Japanese mostly. If it's found on an afternoon tea tiered stand, I want to put it in my face. And I've been craving a steak bake and a sausage roll from Greggs for years now (don't get me started on Wetherspooons curry club and Nando's).

favourite genre(s): drama and romance, by a long shot. Bonus if historical. I like some fantasy, action-adventure, and comedy on occasion.

favourite music: I like pop/rock, classical, pop/rock goes classical, and soundtracks. I grew up on 50s and 60s music as a kid and my more influential music years (teens through college) would be anywhere from the late 90s to the mid-2010s or so. My SiriusXM radio is pretty much constantly drifting between the 80s all the way up to the 2010s, decades-wise.

favourite movie: My favorite movie of all time is Dead Poets Society. Otherwise, I love: Shakespeare in Love, Good Will Hunting, Love, Actually, and a variety of historical dramas mostly. As far as animated films go, I have a soft spot for Beauty and the Beast, Hercules, and Howl's Moving Castle.

favourite series: This question is mean and I don't like it. But I'll try. TV: Downton Abbey, Endeavour, Outlander, The Great, Bridgerton. Anime: Cowboy Bebop, Neon Genesis Evangelion, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Lupin III, Zeta Gundam. Video Games: Danganronpa, Zero Escape, Umineko, Code: Realize. Books: A Court of Thorns and Roses (and pretty much everything in the Maas-verse at this point), Bridgerton, Crazy Rich Asians. I feel like I should put something super highbrow here but uh...nope.

last song: We Will Be Memories - Call the Midwife soundtrack. I really love my soundtracks...

last series: Live action TV: All Creatures Great and Small Season 3, Marie Antoinette, Emily in Paris Season 3. Anime: Chainsaw Man, Spy x Family. Books: Crescent City (I need a book 3 release announcement ASAP)

currently reading:  From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout and it's annoying me SO. MUCH. It's what I do to escape from work stress, and instead I'm getting 'slow plot and annoying main character' stress instead. After this I'm taking a break from this series and trying Kingdom of the Wicked instead by Kerri Maniscalco. If that doesn't go over well, I'll finally dip into Scarlett St. Clair and Leigh Bardugo (so I can finally watch Shadow and Bone on Netflix), or The Moonflower Murders by Anthony Horowitz. Murder mystery fans, do not sleep on Anthony Horowitz: he is a fantastic writer!

currently watching: Miss Scarlet and the Duke Season 3, Vienna Blood Season 3, Marie Antoinette, and probably Tokyo Revengers Season 2 soon. I need to catch up on the new Urusei Yatsura and the most recent Lupin III anime, too.

currently working on: de-stressing from a horrible day at work while regaining my patience for one more terrible day at work tomorrow, waiting for French seasonal clothing sales to get posted, charging my kindle so I can curl up with it, eyeing a soothing candle to light. I'm all about warm clothes, candles, my heated blanket, and books right now. And the usual: avoiding replies until I'm less tired.

tagged by: stolen from @earthssprout!

tagging: You, if you have more than three replies in your to-write pile (because that's more than me right now and I'm still avoiding them: let me help you procrastinate)

#more-than-a-princess musings #(I have no energy to really commit to replies so I'm offering this) #(I need tomorrow to be over in order to begin regaining my sanity again)

[almightytrashcan]

TAG GAME: EIGHT SHOWS TO GET TO KNOW ME

thank you @loveisalwaystheanswer hehe

disclaimer: lots of anime recs here HAHAHA im a weeb. also idk how else to describe stuff sometimes HJDSFKJSDHKF it's just different iterations of "wow im floored. watch it." or "this fundamentally changed me as a person."

Code Geass - Brings back memories of senior year in high school where I binged all 25 episodes of the first season during finals week, then binged all 25 episodes of the second season the next week. Season 1 was eh but it was building up for the actual bone-deep pain of Season 2. The Zero Requiem finale still hits man, it's such a perfect way to end the series. Why are mecha animes so steeped in heavy politics. Good for them! Also the Pizza Hut placements were great (we love you Cheese-kun).

Mob Psycho 100 - AMAZING ANIMATION. AMAZING STORYTELLING. WHOLESOME HIGH SCHOOLERS GOING THROUGH THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF LIFE WHILE ALSO HAVING THE MOST POWERFUL PSYCHIC ABILITIES. Genuinely feel-good, so many inspirational quotes in here. Made me cry on some occasions because I didn't expect to hear the words I needed to hear from a shounen anime of all things. Also Reigen is babygirl for a REASON.

Peaky Blinders - Where do I start. I like period dramas, and the premise intrigued me. Season 1 is so damaging to me in so many ways like I don't think any other show could get as perfect as those six episodes AAAAA IM SO ATTACHED TO IT. The whole cast are phenomenal and they really carried the show, and the song features are so good too. Also Cillian Murphy is so hot goddamn.

The Promised Neverland - DO NOT WATCH THE SECOND SEASON. Anyway. I read the manga so I know how the rest of the plot goes, but Season 1 is such an amazing display of psychological horror. The visceral fear of realizing Isabella is always one step ahead of the kids, and just generally trying outpace her while acting like everything's normal. Wow.

Attack on Titan - lol. I don't really care much about the new series anymore, but back in 2013 this was the first anime I properly watched (and the rest of the world had its dick and balls gripped by the Salute™ and the Wings of Freedom™ too). I guess I was pretty fucked up as a kid for thinking I had the balls to join the Survey Corps and could live to tell the tale. Formative anime of all time actually.

Avatar: The Last Airbender - A childhood classic. What else do I say, it's just perfect. Amazing. Fantastic. Spectacular. I have official books of that franchise: all four of The Lost Scrolls, one of the Journey Through The Earth Kingdom books, and the Tales of Zuko book. It's just so dear and close to my heart, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Adventure Time - Another childhood classic. I think I watched every episode up until the first few episodes of Season 5, then I just stopped caring SHDFJSJKFH. BUT. But, it's also still very meaningful to me, it's an amazing combination of fun but also unintentionally dark. I should pick up on it again when I have the time, honestly.

Bungou Stray Dogs - I haven't touched anything related to this anime since 2019 but this is really that one show that shaped me for a long while, mostly because I met my internet friends because of this show, and my first few days on Twitter was dedicated to being a BSD fan. The whole concept too of characters based off famous classic authors with abilities names after their most famous works is really a banger, it made me a reader again.

i dont really have anyone to tag so if you see this on your dash feel free to do it!

[mermain123]

I posted 710 times in 2022

25 posts created (4%)

685 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@telemna-hyelle

@bokettochild

@three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat

@i-am-1142

@skyward-floored

I tagged 333 of my posts in 2022

#sailor moon - 18 posts

#drops of moonlight zine - 16 posts

#xd - 13 posts

#linked universe - 12 posts

#sailor moon zine - 12 posts

#sailor moon 30th anniversary - 9 posts

#lu wind - 9 posts

#i love it - 8 posts

#yes - 5 posts

#painted ceramics - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#i have made her the fairy i give all the treats too to try and get as many possible skills as ossible

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Four & Wind (Linked Universe), Four (Linked Universe) & Shadow Link, Shadow Link & Wind (Linked Universe) Characters: Four (Linked Universe), Red (Linked Universe), Shadow (Linked Universe), Green (Linked Universe), Blue (Linked Universe), Vio (Linked Universe) Additional Tags: written for the discord group i'm part of, Prompt: Familial connections, Shadow exclusively refers to Four by the name "Rainbow", No Beta Summary:

Shadow likes to observe the chain while hiding. And something about Wind in particular always stood out to him. After eavesdropping on a brief conversation with Time, Shadow thinks he's finally figured it out.

13 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#4

Madoka rebellion thoughts

so i was watching someone talk about Madoka rebllion and he went into detail about the scene where madoka and homura talk in the flower field. well i noticed the lines talking about how madoka would never make a decision that would make it so she could never see anyone ever again. especially knowing how sad it would make everyone. it’s no debate that this conversation is what drove homura to make the decision she did at the end

but i started looking at the wording of that again. the way they kept emphasizing how madoka would never make a decision where she could never see everyone again.

nd i realized....she didn’t. the big wish she made at the end of the series? she will still eventually see everyone again when she purifies them. she never made a wish that would leave her aloe. she exsists at all times all at once. and is with all the magical girls she saves.

homura misunderstood what happened

just 1 interpretation at least

15 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

#3

fic advice?

so i have an idea for a linked universe fic where the chain meet wind because he saves them from the temple of the ocean king. aka, the temple that without the phantom hourglass/sword will SLOWLY DRAIN THE LIFE OUT OF YOU

the problem i have is...why would the chain just not turn back when they felt what he temple was slowly doing to them? like it should not be hard to realize you are starting to feel weaker and weaker the longer you’re in the temple.

(i don’t know if bellum was reason the temple did that but for the sake of this fic i can pretend he wasn’t)

18 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#2

Time and Wild headcannon

I think Time and Wild both suffer from bad cases of insomnia.  this is because even when they know it’s unrealistic both of them are afraid of sleeping too long again. they’re afraid of losing everything by falling asleep again. 

Time has had years to get this under control but he still suffers from sleepless nights sometimes. meanwhile wild just finished his adventure recently and so this is a major issue and he often needs to be reassured that he won’t sleep too long. he won’t miss anything by sleeping.

Time is the only one who can really comfort wild when he has these panic attacks because he knows exactly what he’s going through.

76 notes - Posted November 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The fact that Splatoon 3 is not in my hands at this very second is a crime.

LOOK AT THIS

LOOOOOOK

684 notes - Posted August 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #cool #not suprised at what number 1 is #wasn't sure if a post i made late last year would count or not though #i'll have to try and find that post later and see how many notes it got #welp let's see what 2023 is like #as for tags #some posts i want to just be a quick over and done with #then there are the ones i really want shared #those are the ones i tag

[zombieweek-g]

Zombieweek’s Projects

I’ve realized that since I’m now producing a somewhat sizeable amount of content, I should probably have it sorted in an easily accessible way, so consider this that and some form of introduction.

I’m Zombieweek, also found on certain websites as Spicyasian, I’m a solo scantalator/fansubber who primarily works on Tokusatsu media.

All of my translation work can be found under the tag #Zombieweek translations 

I also have a dedicated website for all of my TLs at-

https://zombieweek.wordpress.com/ (Everything goes up on tumblr first because there’s a hole in my brain though)

Mywork includes:

Ultraman: Darkness Heels -Lili-

A spinoff manga of the Ultraman spinoff stage show Darkness Heels, focusing on a group of evil Ultras working together as “heroes”. The Manga focuses on Lili Archive, a soldier in the Terrorist Suppression Force on the alien planet Hus, where she meets Ultraman Belial and Camearra, before becoming involved in their conflict.

You can read my TL of Darkness Heels -Lili- at Mangadex, here: https://mangadex.org/title/8309963a-ec84-4fed-b5f6-efbeeee6fa3f/darkness-heels-lili

This series is technically still active and I have the bonus chapter from volume 2 in queue, but i don’t have anything to scan it with so I’m sort of stuck on that while i shop around for a scanner to “borrow”.

Avataro Sentai Donbrothers

Toshiki Inoue’s latest masterpiece, and also the 46th entry in the Super Sentai series.

Do I even need to explain this one? Probably, but you’re better off just watching the first ep yourself and making a judgement call there.

My donbros translations are all .ass script files which need to be applied to a supported raw. For most this means using an .mkv file video in a program like VLC, and then dragging the .ass file over the playing video. 

My tls will usually go up around 6-10 hours after an episode airs live.

All of my tls are archived on https://zombieweek.wordpress.com/

My tls will always go up under my aforementioned tag, as well as under the “#donbrothers” and “#avataro sentai donbrothers” tags.

Ultraman Nexus Manga

The manga adaptation of the 2004 Ultraman show, Ultraman Nexus.

This adaptation was originally published alongside the show’s original run in the televikun magazine, and got a digital release in June of this(2022) year. The complete book was actually originally published in 2015, but up until the digital release only low quality scans existed for it.

The entire manga is essentially just an insanely condensed version of the show itself, so there isn’t really any “new” content per say, outside of the final chapter, which was only published in that 2015 release, since the original show had its last block of episodes cancelled.

This is an ongoing translation that I’ve been behind on with rl stuff, but plan to pick up again soon. This tl is on temporary hiatus while I work on a collaborative TL with a different group. https://mangadex.org/title/503ce7a9-032a-4178-812d-fd089a755fd0/ultraman-nexus

Ultraman: Another Gene - Starting from ULTRAMAN GEED

A special Manga released on tsuburya imagination this year, with a preview chapter and a oneshot.

The oneshot focuses on a character named Kanaya Nyx, who finds himself in a similar situation to the original protagonist of Ultraman Geed. However this story takes place after the events of Ultraman Geed, and features the returning protagonist from Ultraman orb, Kurenai Gai. 

Unfortunately, because the oneshot is only available on Tsuburya Imagination, which is a japan exclusive service with about a dozen layers of region specific security, I’ve only been able to translate the preview chapter of the story. 

If anyone happens to both live in japan and have a premium imagination acc and wants to see the oneshot translated you could, you know-

Or you could just read the pv chapter on mangadex: https://mangadex.org/title/72b5a5e8-9573-423e-b41f-2b75cb193a0f/ultraman-another-gene?tab=chapters

Other Translations

So like I said at first, I also go by Spicyasian on certain sites, but I was really only talking about one site in particular, one site I can’t link here, and that you can’t even access without making an account and messing with your cookies a lot.

If you happen to do that though, and happen to use that certain site, you can find some short comics I’ve translated as spicyasian, along with some stuff I’ve done in collab with some bounty holders.

My Non-Translation work

Writing

Other than Translations, I’m also a semi-active (significantly less so than my tls) writer. Like my translation work, all my writing can be found under the tag “Zombieweek Scenarios”.

There really isn’t any cohesive story that the scenarios follow, and since all my experience writing is with scripts of plays, that’s how all of them are structured. 

Tags always contain content warnings, but I’m actively trying to find a better site to host them on.

Thats it!

I’ll be updating this list as I get new projects under my belt and keeping it pinned from now on.

If you ever have any questions about what I’m tling always feel free to send an ask or dm. I’m a one person team so projects come out at whatever rate I’m able to push them out at and i tend not to update on that sort of stuff.

#Zombieweek translations #zombieweek scenarios #streamerweek_g #my various tags #for your easy blocking or following convenience #this has been in my drafts for a while now and since I'm officially at the halfway point of tling donbros i figured it was a good time #to be updated as new projects come out

[sailor-cresselia]

I posted 7,265 times in 2022

That's 3,264 more posts than 2021!

15 posts created (0%)

7,250 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@neckspike

@wcwit

@conlainn

@officialtrashcant

@cest-la-venus

I tagged 885 of my posts in 2022

#pokemon - 97 posts

#kamen rider ooo - 45 posts

#the worldbuilding we need and deserve - 45 posts

#kamen rider revice - 44 posts

#avataro sentai donbrothers - 44 posts

#i will ride this inspiration train until it runs out of track - 32 posts

#jojo's bizarre adventure - 28 posts

#pokemon legends arceus - 22 posts

#kamen rider wizard - 19 posts

#kamen rider - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#boy i hope i get a good story like this at some point but we don't have *card* cards anymore and haven't really since i started working ther

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

After seven increasingly long years, it's finally time.

Time for both of them to come home.

----

ANKH REVIVAL TIME, BABY!!!

It’s still the 30th in Japan, so Happy 11th Birthday, Tajador!

6 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

#4

Hello it is possible I am blind, but in the age spreadsheet (which is incredible I could never), are there birthdays? I know some people have canon birthdays, but not many actually lmao, and I was wondering if you had a list? For anyone and everyone with a canon birthday

Haha, thanks!

Any known birthdays - and there are actually quite a few, plus more that can be put in approximate ranges thanks to airdates - are included in the chart!

(For reference, the chart in question and several related ones can be found via this currently pinned post of mine.)

In the cell with any given characters name, if they have any other names (by way of having changed them for any reason such as marriage, amnesia, and in at least one case ‘adoption’), along with their Rider Names, they’re noted in a ‘note’.

You can see these on desktop by clicking on the cell, and it should appear next to it.

(I very heavily recommend against using mobile to view the age chart, or the order charts, because they are very large and unwieldy in a narrow format. Plus, it’s harder to interact with the notes on mobile, since it involves long-pressing the cell.)

In any case, those notes also feature known birthdays! There are surprisingly a lot of them - many of which are gleaned from things like drivers licenses and profiles shown on screen.

Hope this helps, and thanks again!

8 notes - Posted May 10, 2022

#3

Doesnt that reflect the nature of some people who react differently while under an avatar?

But then I remember him saying that he does this to train his rangers.

Yeah, a lot of people act differently when they're behind a mask or otherwise anonymous, but with Taro it's like flipping a switch to going absolutely ham.

Yes, he's able to be kick-ass when he's in civilian mode, but he has explicitly said he 'does not hit people'... and yet comes out fists, swords, and gun swinging the Second he transforms.

Well, okay, the first thing he does when he transforms is put on a show with a whole procession, somehow, but the second thing he does when he transforms is go completely ham.

Taro does the 'hardcore training' thing in civilian form, too - we saw that in the Taro & Tsuyoshi episode with the onigiri. But not the way he does as Don Momotaro.

I guess it's more the juxtaposition of exactly how different he becomes that's what's getting people.

8 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

#2

The final chapter of Try and Re-Build is now live!!!

Featuring: A realization, and a restoration.

At long last, after a solid three and a half years, I have finally managed to complete this story.

Thank you, so much, to everyone who has read this story all this time, those who have come in along the way, and those just joining in now.

(ff.net mirror in notes)

15 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So, I’ve been working on this for the last few weeks, and have finally finished it!

The pattern is from the wonderful folks at @shitpostsampler, and I love them for all the creative work they do to help folks make other creative work happen!

The original pattern uses violets for the lettering, and blue/greens for the border, but I decided to go with a more AO3-y color scheme, and swapped in red for text, grey for most of the border, and a really nice dark red-violet for the border accents. I’m really proud of how this turned out!

(Granted, now i have to figure out how to frame it, but that shouldn’t be too terribly hard given I have incredibly easy access to frames and mats at work lol)

Now, to reward myself for finishing this project with finishing another project, namely one of the fics that I procrastinated on in order to make this cross stitch calling myself out on procrastinating on working on my fics.

654 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #ships #kagehina #daisuga #asanoya #tsukkiyama #iwaoi #kuroken #bokuaka #kageyama #hinata #daichi #sugawara #asahi #nishinoya #tsukishima #yamaguchi #iwaizumi #oikawa #kuroo #kenma #bokuto #akaashi #sakuatsu #sakusa #atsumu

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary —> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #harry potter fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #hp smut #fluff #angst #hp angst #reader insert #george weasley #ginny weasley #hermione granger #harry potter

[samstree]

Just a Little Pretense

Jaskier and Geralt stage a fake breakup. Someone’s feelings get hurt for real.

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

AO3

“… It would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt’s voice echoes in the ballroom, between the tall walls and the high ceiling. Everyone on the dance floor has fallen into silence. Even the band has stopped playing, their lead singer gaping with round eyes.

Jaskier blinks, impressed.

All the eyes are on the two of them. Jaskier’s back prickles with the gazes. As the fight escalated, more and more guests have stopped dancing just to eavesdrop on the witcher and the bard, the most peculiar couple in the room.

Which is just perfect. The more people witnessing their breakup, the more awkward it will be afterward, and the easier it will be to get out of this tedious party. And here Jaskier is, regretting ever having doubted his dear witcher’s ability to perform.

Who would have thought Geralt is a method actor? Drawing inspiration from a past argument is ingenious.

His old acting professor back in Oxenfurt would approve of this. The show is going swimmingly and he is pumped with adrenaline—maybe he should go back on stage one day, do a play or two.

But alas, he can muse the idea later. The show must go on.

“Really? Just like that?” Jaskier croaks, seemingly on the verge of crying. He’s not so bad himself, classically trained and everything. “Thirty years, Geralt. I followed you for thirty years, and just like that, you will kick me out of your life? Did I ever—” he breaks off with a whimper. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or were you ready to cast me aside this whole time?”

A tear rolls down. His lips wobble. The crowd erupts in hushed murmurs and sympathetic sighs. The set-up, the build, everything has been perfect. Now the only thing left is for Geralt to break things off, and the two of them can ride into the metaphorical sunset and never see this court again.

Jaskier waits in anticipation, but his witcher opens his mouth.

And closes it.

Geralt looks as upset as he should, angry and torn and equally shocked, his golden eyes wide and his jaw clenched tight. It’s a nice picture to paint for the audience. They are supposedly having the biggest fight in their lives and his body language is very convincing.

More than convincing.

Except, it just might be … too convincing.

Wait—

Jaskier focuses on Geralt, who looks as if he wants to shrink into himself, his shoulders slumped and arms drawn in. He looks as if he’s waiting to be struck. Wait, something’s not right.

“I can’t do this.” A whisper leaves Geralt’s lips, small and achingly sad.

It’s not the line he’s supposed to say.

Geralt’s eyebrows droop ever so slightly, and there’s a flash of distress behind the molten gold. It’s gone in a second, hidden behind a façade of indifference.

The tells are subtle, near imperceivable to the untrained eye, but to Jaskier, they are clear as day—Geralt is hurt. For real.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tries, instantly snapped out of his character.

And yet, there’s no reply. Geralt lowers his head, turns around, and flees the scene within one heartbeat and the next. The crowd is too eager to make way for him.

“Shit,” Jaskier curses, ready to chase after Geralt, but the Countess de Stael appears out of nowhere with a flock of maids and positively blocks him in all directions. She’s eager to lament the loss of love and companionship, and to offer Jaskier a place at her court once again. Oh, shit.

Jaskier brushes her off, all the while painfully remembering he and Geralt’s goal from the beginning—to use the breakup as an excuse to get out of this place.

Well, the plan is shit. Is it too late to notice?

Weaving through dozens of nobles is a lot more difficult when they all want to extend sympathy, and Jaskier is only placating them absent-mindedly, faking regret and heartbreak. His mind is full of his witcher, who is either brooding or spiraling over the venom he spewed earlier.

The truth is, Jaskier has long forgotten about the mountain—not because it didn’t hurt. To be shunned by Geralt, blamed for everything, and denied friendship, was the worst thing to have happened to him at the time. It’s just that Jaskier has forgiven it, so long ago and so completely.

Jaskier cannot get to their room fast enough, and when he pushes open the door, the sight of Geralt’s dejected face is a stab through the chest. The witcher is perched on the bed, somehow looking a lot smaller than he is.

Jaskier never should have come up with the stupid fake breakup thing, never should have inadvertently reopened the old wound. They healed, together. They shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

“I explained. We can leave now,” Jaskier tires, but in fairness, he doesn’t remember what he said to the Countess. “Geralt?”

The witcher himself crosses his arms, hugging his midriff and avoiding Jaskier’s gaze. “Good,” he answers curtly, shoulders still tense.

He looks angry, and when Geralt is angry, it’s most likely with himself. Oh, whatever heartbreak Jaskier acted out earlier, it’s not a match to a fraction of what he’s feeling now. It must be the one millionth time Geralt’s self-loathing has broken Jaskier’s heart, and it never gets easier, not when Jaskier caused it himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier desperately wants to wrap his arms around Geralt. So he does. He sits down on the bed and pulls his witcher into the biggest bear hug, which is returned immediately and so very tightly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up, Geralt. I’m—”

“Don’t be.” Geralt buries his nose into Jaskier’s neck and shakes his head. “I never should have said those things, Jask. I should be the one apologizing. It was wrong and untrue and I would never abandon you. You are my best friend. How can I ever? Please, believe me…”

Geralt trails off, his hands rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back. Although it’s unclear who he’s trying to soothe.

“I know. It’s okay. I know,” Jaskier murmurs, over and over again, sealing each reassurance with a kiss pressed into silver hair.

“I never meant it, Jask.”

“I know. It was fake. We were pretending.”

Geralt pulls away, golden eyes dead serious, pausing between every word. “I never meant it.”

Jaskier meets his gaze unwaveringly, with not an ounce of doubt. “I know.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other. Geralt keeps sniffing Jaskier’s scent the same way he always does to check for injury or distress. He thinks he’s subtle, the sweet man, so Jaskier never mentions it.

Despite what an outsider might assume, Geralt is the sensitive one between the two. He’s so careful when it comes to their relationship, especially after the mountain and sometimes to his own detriment.

He’s so scared of hurting Jaskier again.

“I was an idiot for suggesting it,” Jaskier breaks the silence, nudging Geralt in the knee.

Geralt hums, lips pursed.

“Fake breakup is a terrible idea. Next time we’ll just grit our teeth and sit through the month-long party.”

Still, no smile.

“Alright, you win. Next time I won’t take you to a month-long party to start with.” Jaskier gently pats Geralt on the cheek. “For your delicate sensibilities, darling.”

Finally, finally, Geralt’s lips turn upwards, just a smidge.

“You are an idiot,” Geralt says, the crease between his brows fading. “Just…don’t make me make you cry again.”

Melting into the warmth welling up between his ribcage, Jaskier leans forward and presses a tiny kiss at his witcher’s forehead, so softly as if he’d break with any more force.

“Yes, dear.”

Being careless with Geralt’s heart is a mistake that Jaskier never wants to repeat. As he put a hand over his witcher’s languid heartbeat, Jaskier feels the soft thrumming against his palm, and realizes just how terribly he needs to guard it with the same care too. Against his frivolous self, and against the past that never seems to stop haunting them.

Because Jaskier needs this thing between them to work. If a faked breakup already seems unbearable, he shudders to imagine a real one.

A witcher’s life is already riddled with pain and sadness and could-have-beens. A poet would hate it if he added himself to the list.

---

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#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #fake breakup #geralt x jaskier #post mountain #hurt/comfort #geralt of rivia is a sap #soft jaskier #jaskier is an idiot #don't mind him #established relationship