#i dulled the effect down as much as possible but its still a little much i think

[rking200]

Beanie Connor Compilation

I made some of these gifs in different sizes. You can find them on the Connor page of my Gif Archive.

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh connor #connor rk800 #rk800 #dbh gifs #dbh mods #beanie connor #deviant connor #dbh model swap #gif #flashing lights #cw flashing #epilepsy warning #i usually don't tag for epilepsy warning specifically but just making sure with the police lights one #i dulled the effect down as much as possible but its still a little much i think #but i still wanted to include it for his cute face #gifsgalore #connorgifs #this is all the usable footage i've gotten of beanie boy in my playthroughs lol expect more when i have a working savefile #also i have finally figured out what size is best for tumblr crop #...i think

[kitorin]

g.satoru - 1:19 am

"i can't believe you kissed him—"

it's the dead of night when gojo satoru's fuming, acting as a means of prevention to your long awaited (and well deserved) sleep.

you pull your shared blanket, covering the entirety of yourself. "shut up. not now."

satoru rips the blanket off you. "yes, now. don't try to run away from the consequences to your actions."

an effort to pull back the blanket becomes futile, as you decide not to bother. "you're overreacting."

"why him, why not me? majority of his face is forehead and he's built like a rugby ball. he doesn't even look like a man" he inhales sharply. "what about this face isn't perfect?" satoru gestures to it, hair still slightly damp from the late shower and blindfold nowhere to be seen. "this is basically cheating. why would you do this to me? shall i get rid of my bangs so i have a bigger forehead?"

"satoru, he's just a plushie." you pull the white softness of the cinnamoroll plush to your chest, fingers stroking it's fluff.

"lucky bastard..." a curse or two accompanies his words, as he wraps himself in the blanket, as far away from you as possible. "should've been me."

"satoru—"

"i bet my hair's softer."

"why don't you come here and prove that to me then?"

the blanket unfolds to reveal a pouting gojo satoru. "you even called it a he."

cinnamoroll settles on your bed's head rest, somehow balancing with his 'majority forehead face'. satoru shuffles closer to you, closing the distance between you two.

you shrug. "he's my son. my baby."

"i'm your baby."

"he's baby in the sense of an actual, cute baby. you're baby in the sense of an immature grown ass man."

he responds with an eye roll. "wow. okay. plushie's more important than me i see."

another shrug from you, biting down on your lip to swallow a snicker (it wasn't successful).

"love it's just a plushie—"

"i tried to tell you that initially." satoru faces you to pout, but it has no effect on this little squabble of yours, maybe only a giggle or two from you. "he's so cute, c'mon.

without much effort, satoru picks cinnamoroll up, staring, no, glaring at the poor dog. "you can't find someone cute after they stole your lover."

"he's my son. that would make him your son." the observation makes him stick his tongue out. "all i did was kiss him."

"me related to him? no thank you." satoru continues to inspect the plushie from the sky blue, plastic eyes to the swirly tail on its bottom. "i hate him."

"you look the same. white hair, blue eyes."

satoru scoffs, very pretentiously. "that shade of blue is so dull. mine's bright and shiny. therefore prettier."

you lean in closer, not to whisper to him but to the plush. "i guess you'll be fine with having satoru's good night kiss?"

his jaw drops—literally, betrayal scrawled on his features. "you wouldn't."

"learn to get along with our son then."

satoru huffs indignantly, but brings the plushie to his chest, hugging it tightly. "well he's nice to cuddle. and his big head doesn't look so bad anymore."

finally, you reclaim the blanket stolen from you. "we both know you love him as much as i do."

"ew, as if." but he knows very well you're correct.

[he ended up forgetting the goodnight kiss he was fuming about]

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

#silly drabble to cope with the angst i'm cooking (happy ending at least BUT STILL) #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #satoru x reader #fluff #gojou x reader

[jays-bookmarks]

Relief (Blade x gn!reader)

@genshin-obsessed so I heard u like Blade 👀

Summary: After being cursed with immortality by the Abundance, you joined the Stellaron Hunters as a doctor. Today, your most stubborn patient finally comes to you for help. Words: 835 Warnings: reader is implied to be shorter than Blade & can be held in his lap (but our Bladie is a strong boy so he can hold anybody uwu)

You muttered to yourself as you walked around your office, organizing your medicines and checking equipment. As the only doctor in service of the Stellaron Hunters, it was important for you to keep everything in tip-top shape in case of emergencies. Although Elio usually told you in advance if a mission would be particularly bloody, there was always the possibility he would withhold one of his predictions. You couldn’t get complacent.

Despite your regular interactions with the other Stellaron Hunters, you felt you couldn't truly connect with any of your “teammates”: Kafka was always inscrutable, Silver Wolf seemed to treat reality like a game, and Blade… Blade was the only one who you thought could understand you. You had both been cursed by the Abundance in your own ways, after all. But after he ignored your attempts at friendship for so long, you had resigned yourself to an eternity of loneliness in your empty office.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on your door. You paused for a moment. Neither Kafka nor Silver Wolf were due for an appointment, leaving only one other person…

You opened the door to see Blade standing with his arms crossed. His expression betrayed nothing of what he felt, but you could see a tension in his shoulders. He didn’t speak as you blinked up at him in surprise.

“Blade. Come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Blade went to sit down in his usual spot, and you quickly busied yourself gathering the necessary materials to make the painkiller you devised specifically for his condition. You couldn’t mix the medicine in advance, as its effectiveness faded quickly with time, so you always kept the raw ingredients on hand.

You glanced over your shoulder at Blade. Your gaze flicked over his body as you observed him. To the untrained eye, Blade seemed fine as ever, if a little irritated, but you knew how to read him after having treated him for so long. You could tell he was holding back more pain than usual. The fact that he was here of his own volition told you all that you needed to know.

You took a breath, then walked over to him. The medicine you made would work in time, but you could provide him with a more immediate source of relief. Gently, you reached out and pressed a hand to his chest.

He stiffened at the contact but didn't push you away. You closed your eyes and poured your energy into him, letting it wash over him and dull his pain. You focused until you felt Blade’s breathing grow more even and his muscles relax.

You felt lightheaded as you pulled back. The process had taken much longer than you anticipated and had cost much more of your energy as well.

You tried to step away toward the counter, not wanting to linger too long in Blade’s personal space, but a wave of dizziness hit you and you stumbled. Before you could hit the floor, Blade caught you in his arms.

“What did you do?” he asked, panic bleeding into his voice.

You knew you would recover in time—the Abundance’s curse would not let you go so easily—but the pain was still nearly unbearable. Your breathing was shallow and your vision blurry. Blade adjusted his grip on you and pulled you into his lap. His arms shook slightly as he held you.

“I’m sorry… I just wanted to help…” Your voice was weak and shaky as you spoke. “It… it'll pass… I'll be okay…”

Though you said this, you were still on the verge of tears. You were not like Blade—you hadn’t spent an eternity in combat and had yet to become numb to the pain of pushing your body to the limit. What he bore with a straight face was agony for you. You tried to hold back a whimper.

Blade tightened his grip around you.

“Why?” he asked.

“I… just wanted to give you some relief…” you said. You pinched your eyes shut to try to block out the pain. “Did… did it work, at least?”

Blade was silent for a while. Then, he pulled you closer, letting your head rest against his chest as his breath fanned over your face. 

“…Yes,” he said. “Don’t do it again.”

“…Sorry…” You breathed out, letting your eyes fall shut. After what you had done, you were completely exhausted, and Blade's embrace was so warm… You fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heart, for once free of worries as Blade held you close.

The next day, Kafka would enter your office only to see Blade glaring at her to stay silent. You were still slumbering in his arms. He had stayed in that same position all night, not caring about the fatigue in his muscles nor the ache that came with it. Kafka smiled knowingly, holding back her teasing words—if only for now—as she closed the door, leaving Blade alone with you.

#literally crying holding myself back from pulling for blade bc I need to save my crystals for imbibitor lunae #so this is my gift to him instead #for those of you who have read the arcana the reader's condition in this fic was inspired by julian's curse #where he can heal any injury by taking it on for himself #but i kinda changed it to just general healing powers since blade wasn't actually injured in this scene lmao #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x gn reader #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x gn reader #star rail fanfic #honkai star rail fanfic #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade x gn reader #hsr x reader #hsr fanfic #hsr imagines #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #star rail x gender neutral reader #star rail x you #star rail x y/n #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail

[cottondo]

vox x reader ; please?

Nobody really understood how it happened— it just did one day.

You ended up really hitting it off with the man of Voxtech himself; and wow lookathat, you’re dating him now.

It wasn’t unusual to be waking up in his bed, either. But what something Vox wasn’t used to, was a sunshine personality like yours. Of course you have your devilish charms still, as thats what drew him into you to begin with. But, the small appreciations you had for just about everything? It was weird, right? For a sinner in hell, it was marked as a rare occurrence to see someone like you.

( Other than the Princess of Hell, though she was much more over the top than you were. )

As your eyes opened, surroundings gaining a much clearer focus, you let out a tired little sigh.

There’s a soft buzzing beside you, where Vox was passed out in a deep sleep. It was such a nice state to see him in. Calm, not stressed out and dealing with everyone’s chaotic bullshit.

Honestly, it was nice being awake before everyone else. You could just take in the small beauties of silence before everything got obnoxious.

Your eyes flicker over to the windows, and see a bright neon sign with arrows pointing downward towards its front door.

A brand new building had just opened up, and it was a place you’ve been waiting to check out for a while now. Honestly, you couldn’t contain the excitement. It seemed like it took forever to finish, as most demons tried to overrun it while it was still in a vulnerable state.

With a little gasp, your hand falls to vox’s shoulder, and shake it lightly. “Oh my god, Vox, wake up!”

A static noise enters the air, as a small groan of annoyance leaves the tv screen. “What—”

You smirk, leaning over his shoulder to view his annoyance. “It’s finally open~ we gotta go!”

He heaves out a heavy sigh, turning to lay on his back with a dull, tired expression. “Y/N,”

“Please?” The little pout you made usually got him to do what you wanted, but this time it didn’t. He looked tired and visibly annoyed. Honestly, fair. You did kinda just wake him up in one of the worst ways possible.

“Can you at least let me wake up a little, first?” His lopsided smile made your heart flutter. Fuck, he was just so cute no matter what.

“Okay, fine. Just don’t fall back to sleep.” You fully sit up, crawling over his figure, and hoping to avoid stepping on any part of him in the process of getting off the bed. Standing to your feet on the floor, he **almost** chuckles. “What the hell even is the place you wanna go to, anyway?” His one eye widens out of curiosity over at you.

You roll your eyes, annoyed that he never usually remembered the little things. “The first like, ever, plant shop in hell. Somebody actually got things to grow down here,” you inform, taking a step in front of the mirror. “I think they used, like, human world magic or something.”

Vox sat up, stretching his neck and letting out a little groan. “Since when can anybody just get access to earth?”

You deadpan him briefly, “Does it even matter? I need one.”

He shakes his head, sitting up.

“I don’t know how you can be this happy so early in the morning.” He smiled at you. Holy shit, he actually smiled at how stupid your little obsession with this place was.

“Did— did you just smile~?” You decide to point it out, a smirk curling up to your features.

His eyes widened, body slightly startled at your reaction to him. “What?”

You inch closer to him, a brighter look of excitement as he stares at you in curiosity. “Oh my god you did! I saw you, so there’s no denying it.”

Vox takes on the tv effect to his tone as he looks up at you. “Alright, alright.” He then stands, and you notice how he slightly towers over your idling frame. “Only you can convince me to do shit I normally wouldn’t do.” His screen looks away with an almost embarrassment to it.

Your arms gently slip around his waist, causing him to tense up, arms raising.

“Thank you.” You smirk up at him. It didn’t take much to get him wrapped around your finger.

Vox sighs, lowering his arms, and slinking a hand around your waist. He gently guides you forward into his figure. His little smile comes back, and for a moment, you can actually feel him soften his outer shell with you. “Anything for you, my dear.”

______________________________________

I’m so sorry my writing hasn’t been up to par lately lmao 🥲 Not loving this one rn

#hazbin vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel one shots #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #vox x you #vox x reader

[heich0e]

The faint plucking of guitar strings drifts around the corner from the bedroom, greeting you as you press yourself flat to the wall just on the other side of the doorway.

Your hands rest over your diaphragm, feeling the way each unsteady breath makes your ribcage expand and contract every time you breathe in and out. The material of your t-shirt is soft underneath your fingertips, and you twist it up into your fists as you brace yourself.

Slowly, you peek your head around the corner.

Semi is seated at the edge of the bed, dressed in only a pair of underwear. His guitar is in his lap, one hand loosely circling the neck while the other is scribbling something down into the well-loved notebook he carries with him at nearly all hours of the day. His silvery hair is pinned back at his temples with two cute little barrettes he'd stolen from you, and it leaves his concentrated face on full display for you to appreciate.

He notices you immediately when you appear, his eyes flickering up from the page of his notebook to meet yours. He smiles, slightly crooked and deeply fond just like it always is.

"Hey, stranger."

You smile back, or at least you try to. Something about the soft way Semi speaks to you has always made you preen slightly--made you feel shiny, and special, and precious. Its effects are slightly dulled today.

"Hey," you greet him in return, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe and resting your weight against it. "You busy?"

"No, no," he shakes his head emphatically. "What's up?"

The curtains hanging over the window behind him are open and letting in the view of the morning outside. The light is soft, an early fog still hanging in the air that the sun hasn't yet had the chance to burn off, diffusing the sunlight delicately through the sky. It saturates everything--the world outside, the bedroom, the boy sitting atop your bed--in warmth.

Eita looks at you with no reservation. His face open and honest and unsuspecting.

"So, it's not a big deal or anything," you start, your fingers plucking absentmindedly at the oversized shirt that you'd worn to bed, "I just told myself that I'd tell you today if nothing changed. And, uh, it didn't so..."

Semi's brow furrows, his smile dipping slightly in confusion.

You look up at the ceiling.

"It's probably not anything, so there's no reason to worry or whatever, but like... I'm late. By three weeks. Which isn't... like... you know. But I mean it's kind of a lot."

Your eyes burn as you stare at a spot of sunlight on the ceiling. You wonder what it's reflected from.

You're too scared to tear your eyes away from it.

"Do you think..." Semi can't even quite bring himself to pose the question in its entirety. Can't even bring himself to speak the word, like uttering it might make it real. You know the feeling.

You shrug apathetically.

"Not sure."

You hear some rustling.

"Hey, c'mere."

You look down and see that Eita has set his guitar aside, and sits with his arms opened at the end of the bed, beckoning you into his waiting embrace. You swallow and shuffle over, standing between his parted thighs. His arms wind tight around your waist, and he presses his face against your sternum as he pulls you tightly together.

"You shoulda told me sooner, you must have been stressed," he says gently. It's not really chiding, at least not in a way that leaves you any room to feel admonished. He sounds guilty that you were going through it all alone.

"I've just been trying not to think about it too much," you admit quietly, one hand on his shoulder and the other at the nape of his neck, tracing through the soft tresses that curl there.

You hold each other like that for a moment.

"I mean," Semi's breath is caught in the material of your t-shirt each time he speaks, the fabric warming with every word. "It it even possible?"

You shrug a little bit again, even though he can't see you. You two haven't been the most responsible lately, nor the least. But stranger things have happened. He pulls away and glances up at you.

"I mean, it's not impossible," you reply.

He catches the edge of his lip between the point of his canine, gnawing on it thoughtfully.

"Okay," he says after a moment. "So we should like, get you a test or something, yeah?"

You're a little shocked that he's being so rational. So calm. You're not really sure what you expected. It's not like Semi's irrational or un-calm as a general rule, or anything--this situation just isn't one that you have any point of reference for.

You find yourself nodding dumbly in response, lost for words.

Half an hour later you and Eita stand side by side in the pharmacy, dressed in similar haphazardly put together outfits of sweatpants and hoodies and sneakers. You have on a baseball cap, and Semi still has those barrettes in his hair.

You had no idea there were so many kinds of pregnancy tests.

Blue box, pink box, white box. Digital result. Consumer's choice. 99% accuracy. Fast response. Most trusted brand nationwide. Your eyes flicker from one variety to the next, taking in their various packaging and claims, the terms whirling around your mind nearly incoherently. You're overwhelmed.

Eita must notice.

"Hey,"--he dips down so his face takes over your line of sight, bent at the waist to get close to you--"you should go get us some coffees next door, I'll grab what we need here."

Your eyes scan his face for a moment, but you find only reassurance in his gaze, and then you nod.

Semi finds you outside of the coffee shop not long after with two iced drinks in hand, seated on a little bench. The plastic pharmacy bag with his purchase is looped casually over his wrist, and your eyes are drawn to it unconsciously as it rustles with each step of his approach.

"What did you get me?" he asks with a blithe, easygoing smile as he looks at the coffees in your hand. He always gets the same thing--a black americano--but every single time he asks anyway.

You hold up his drink for him to take.

"My favourite!" he says, accepting the beverage excitedly. "Thank you."

At home, the two of you sit on top of your bed with your coffees in hand, and Eita reads through the instructions that he'd found after he shook the contents of one (of FOUR) of the pregnancy test packages he'd bought out onto the bedspread.

"Okay, so it says here that you just have to pee on this part,"--Semi puts his coffee cup down in the cradle of his legs and then uncaps the little stick in his hand, pointing at the end. His eyes scan over the sheet of instructions of his lap. "It says you can also 'collect a sample' but if you do that you have to make sure you're using a clean cup."

"I don't wanna piss in one of our cups," you say miserably.

He glances up at you sympathetically.

"Okay, okay," he says, reading onwards. "It says that if you're testing early in the suspected pregnancy it should be your first pee of the morning, and that you shouldn't drink a lot of liquid beforehand if that's the case too."

That wouldn't really apply to you, given how late your period is.

Eita looks up suddenly, his eyes fixed to the cup of coffee held to your lips. You watch him curiously.

"What?" you ask him, chewing on the end of your straw.

He bites down on his lower lip for a moment, like he's grappling with something. "Should you be... y'know. Drinking that? Coffee, I mean."

You blink. You're not sure, actually.

"I thought, like if you are..." His eyes flicker up to yours, his expression a bit strained.

You hadn't thought twice about ordering your usual coffee that morning. You haven't thought twice about anything you've been drinking, or eating, or doing over the past three weeks. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You don't know anything about pregnancy, but you know that there's a list longer than the Shinano river about the things you're supposed to avoid.

Your lips flatten into a line.

"Hey, hey," Semi senses your sudden panic and rushes to reassure you. "It's gonna be fine. We might be worrying for nothing. We're gonna be fine."

The pregnancy test says the results will be final after three minutes, and Semi waits outside the bathroom door with a timer as you wash your hands. You would have thought that the three minutes would have taken a long time to pass, but by the time you finish drying your hands and shuffle back out to the bedroom where your boyfriend is waiting for you wringing his hands, it really takes no time at all before the alarm on his phone to signify the three minutes has elapsed is chiming through the room.

Not pregnant.

The results on the test are clear, and you feel an immediate rush of relief.

"Let me see," Eita says after you read him the result, reaching for the test.

"Eita, I pissed on this," you say with a laugh, keeping it from his reach. You turn the test in your hand so he can see the result, and you watch as his eyes scan the little stick intensely.

"You should take another one," he says almost immediately, surprisingly serious in tone. His eyes flicker up to yours and the corner of his mouth lifts in a weak smile. "Just in case, y'know?"

It takes you almost an hour and a half to get through not one more, but all three remaining tests (at Eita's continued insistence)--because, as it turns out, your body was not meant to urinate on command.

Finally, all four tests return the same result.

You are NOT pregnant.

You flop back onto your bed with an almost hysterical giggle, tossing your arm over your eyes.

"That was so stressful," you say, letting out a long breath.

Eita is very quiet below you.

You open your eyes and push yourself up on your elbows. At the end of the bed, your boyfriend is sitting with one leg pulled up onto the mattress, staring at the four completed tests with an emotion you don't quite understand.

"Hey," you call down to him, and he looks over at you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he assures you quickly. He laughs a little, shaking his head. "Nothing. I promise. It's just,"--he stares down at the tests again-- "I think I got a bit excited, is all."

Your eyes widen, your heart giving a great, almighty throb in your chest.

"Is that weird?" he asks you, turning to look at you once more, his tone barely above a whisper.

You blink, utterly dumbfounded.

The midday sun outside your bedroom has cleared away the early morning fog now, and it shines brightly on the city outside. Eita is backlit by the glow, eclipsing it.

"No, no of course that's not weird," you finally reply, your throat tight. "But a baby, Eita?"

Semi's head hangs a little bit.

"I mean, we both wanna have them some day right?" He fiddles with a piece of packaging leftover from one of the tests idly. "We're both adults. We've got good jobs. We have our own place, and I know it's not huge or anything but I think it would get us by for a few years. And I love you, so..."

Your stomach clenches, and you push yourself up, crawling down to the bottom of the bed and into Eita's lap at the end of his sheepish explanation. His hands rest at your waist, his fingers dipping under the hem of your hoodie without thinking.

"You wanna have a baby with me?" you repeat a variation of your earlier question, still incredulous but now almost giddy.

Eita's eyes trace your face: your eyes, your nose, your lips.

He nods. "Yeah, I do."

He leans forwards and kisses you sweetly.

His lips still taste like his americano.

His fingertips are calloused from years of guitar playing.

He's warm like the sun.

You pull away, but Eita follows you a bit before he lets your lips part.

"If we have a baby, you have to marry me you know," you tell him firmly.

He laughs, his smile wide and bright. He leans forward, resting this forehead against your shoulder.

"I'd have taken you to the city register's office first thing this morning before we stopped at the pharmacy, if you would've let me." He lifts his face and peeks up at you, his lashes fluttering against his suddenly pink cheeks. "I'd still take you now."

You swallow thickly, watching the way Eita's tongue peeks out to moisten his pink lips. You dip forward until you can feel the heat of his mouth under your own.

"Courthouse can come later," you whisper.

There's something you'd much rather spend the day doing, after all.

#semi eita x reader #semi x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #tw pregnancy

[icallhimjoey]

I can just imagine joe being a sleep talker but the kind where he seems kind of awake and you can talk to him. I imagine him just loopy and happy, all dreamy just talking about the person he loves whilst cuddling a pillow.

ugh fuck OFF! ok so, this is an extremely short little thing, so sorry, but, how could I not write this request ????? i had to Wordcount: 1K

---

Mine

It was rare for you to wake up in the middle of the night, to be awoken by a full bladder in need of relief. This is why it took you a second to realise why you'd even woken up at 3 in the morning to begin with.

It was dark.

Quiet.

Well, there wasn't any noise that should've woken you up. Joe didn't snore, but would randomly mumble things in his sleep sometimes. He seemed sound asleep, however, so that couldn't have been what had pulled you from your slumber.

There were no pains, no cramps. You didn't feel too hot or too cold, were actually really comfortable... so then, why? Why were you up?

The little zing in your lower stomach gave it away. It was dull, but definitely there.

You had to pee.

You did everything with your eyes closed in an attempt to stay as asleep as possible.

Silly, but effective.

You peed in the dark and decided you'd flush in the morning. Didn't want to wake Joe any more than getting out of the bed might have already done.

When you slid back into the bedroom, there was rustling of covers as you saw through squinty eyes how Joe turned over in his sleep.

You were quick to dive back under the covers where it was warm and cosy, finding instant comfort where you left in a minute earlier. Without trying to turn too much, you settled into your favourite sleep position, on your stomach with one knee hiked up, ready to drift back off.

But then,

"No, that's mine."

Joe.

He spoke in his normal speaking voice, enunciating each word as if he was awake.

For a second, you thought that maybe he was.

"What?" you whispered into the dark. "What's yours?" you hadn't taken anything. Your head was on your pillow and if anyone was hogging covers, it was him. Not you.

"Stop it, that's mine, you're..." Joe stopped to yawn, then finished, "You're not allowed."

You leant up onto your elbows and tried to find Joe's face in the dark.

"Joe?"

Nothing. Just heavy slow breaths.

"Baby?"

Silence.

Yea, he was definitely asleep. You let your breath audibly escape you as you let yourself fall back down into your pillow. You'd ask him tomorrow if he'd remember what he'd dreamt about.

Just when you were on the verge of falling back asleep, Joe let out a loud, annoyed groan. It woke you right back up.

"Stop looking! I told you, that is mine."

"Joe," you used a heavy, tired arm to find his to grab. Shook him a little. A futile attempt to wake him, as it did nothing.

"You can't look and you can't touch."

You were tired and mustered up the energy to go, "Okay, I won't look or touch."

"Good."

And for a little bit, it was quiet and you foolishly thought you'd be able to fall back asleep if you were quick enough.

"Listen, I get it." Joe suddenly said again, and it almost felt like you were snoozing. Brought back into consciousness every couple of minutes by Joe's voice.

"I get it," Joe repeated on the back end of a sigh. "But, she's mine, so..."

That piqued your interest enough to lift yourself back onto your elbows again.

"What?"

"Mine." Joe repeated, and you saw how he was definitely 100 per cent asleep still.

"Who is yours?"

"She is."

"Who is she?"

If he was going to say any name other than yours, you'd smack him right awake. Softly, of course, nothing to actually hurt him. But still.

"She is..."

Yes?

Yeesss?

"She is gorgeous, isn't she? Look at her."

A grin grew on your face despite the sleep that was trying its best to tug your eyelids down. Made you blink very slowly.

"You said I wasn't allowed to look."

"No." A beat, and then, "I have to leave."

You could never make much sense of the sleep-talking conversations Joe tried to rope you into sometimes. Which made sense. He was asleep. Dreaming.

Dreams were always weird hallucinations where you were in one place and then without warning in the next, and the person you were hanging out with was actually a giraffe and you were always missing half your teeth which was always traumatising, yet none of it would be questioned at all, not until you woke up, anyway.

The fact that this chat seemed quite coherent was unusual.

"Where you going?" you plopped back down again, but kept facing Joe. You were able to just make out the outline of his face in the dark as he laid on his back, and even like this, barely able to see any of his features, he looked nice.

He had a good profile.

Pretty.

Hair a right mess, but, pretty still.

"I don't want to go."

"Mhmm... then stay."

"Okay. Will you tell them I won't go?"

"Fine."

Another silence fell, and you were so sleepy. You thought maybe you'd just have to learn how to keep this chat going whilst you slept too. Joe stirred on his side of the bed and you felt how a hand searched across until it found your waist.

It didn't grab onto anything, but had found what it was looking for and just laid there by your side.

"Can't go if she won't come."

A tiny gasp escaped you.

"Why... why won't she come?"

Joe sighed deeply, turned and nuzzled into his pillow, said, "Work."

You fucking knew exactly who she was.

"That's not her fault though, is it?"

It wasn't as if you had enjoyed telling Joe there were no gaps in your agenda to come and visit him whilst he worked overseas. Telling Joe no could definitely bring you great joy, because he really needed to hear it sometimes, but, it was no fun when it came to things like this.

"No," Joe mumbled, voice softer now, and you knew he'd be quiet again soon.

You decided to try again, just to know for sure.

"Hey," you whispered. "Who is she, again?"

"Mhmm," Joe hummed, hand springing back to life, now finding its way around your waist, hooking just enough to pull you into him. You gladly let him, curled into his chest as he curled around.

"Mine," he whispered, took a big whiff with his nose stuck in your hair.

"She's mine."

the end

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @notverywise, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #mine

[namelessbutters-doodles]

Before, Everything.

Characters: Eric Carr, Death, Gene (mentioned).

Setting: 1991 (Remember the year...)

Summary: ‘’It’s almost time, Young man.’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’Are you scared?’’ Death questioned, looking down at the deathly ill man with those hollow sockets of there’s as the ekg monitor beeps loudly yet slowly. Giving the room a calming ambience, the dim light glowing on them both while the sky is full of nothing but darkness as well the clocks aren’t ticking like they used to when the reaper usually visits in times like this.

In times like what?

Times like now, as Eric breathes as slowly as possible. His eyes half lidded, his hair practically gone at this point to the side effects of chemotherapy, his body is nothing but skin and bones along with dull eyes that used to be brightened with enthusiasm, joy, excitement, and life now are full with…

__________

⚠️Warnings: Character death, cancer mentioned, hospitals, Full on angst, hurt no comfort, shape shifting, ask to tag.

Comments and Reblogs, Are greatly appreciated.

Also on Ao3

‘’It’s almost time, Young man.’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’Are you scared?’’ Death questioned, looking down at the deathly ill man with those hollow sockets of there’s as the ekg monitor beeps loudly yet slowly. Giving the room a calming ambience, the dim light glowing on them both while the sky is full of nothing but darkness as well the clocks aren’t ticking like they used to when the reaper usually visits in times like this.

In times like what?

Times like now, as Eric breathes as slowly as possible. His eyes half lidded, his hair practically gone at this point to the side effects of chemotherapy, his body is nothing but skin and bones along with dull eyes that used to be brightened with enthusiasm, joy, excitement, and life now are full with…near death.

Looking directly up at the ceiling, he takes a deep breath.

It hurts but he takes it, calming himself or making sure he’s still breathing.

‘’Young Man.’’ Death said, staring down at Eric then the outside that was full of darkness that would consume Eric in mere minutes or hours like the cancer was doing to Eric except it was consuming him from the inside thus spreading everywhere despite the treatments throughout the months and the miracles that were hoped now turned into…

A lie.

A lie that shouldn’t ever happened to him in the first place that hit him hard and fast but that's how life is right? Fast and hard? The past is now, the present is tomorrow, the future….

Uncertain?

Uncertain due to choices people have made or done in order to get through the day in order to function as life goes on for them in ways they expect or can’t expect as sometimes things come up like marriage, getting into there dream school, becoming famous, or whatever they done they warranted for the things that gotten them there begin with the goods there’s been some bad as well but for him…for…

Eric.

This was different.

He’s in a band, he’s the drummer, he’s the fox in kiss.

Well, he used to be.

As his breathing becomes much more slower and the beeps as well, he’s…

Just a man, who wished things were different. Wished the cancer was gone, wished he could play the drums, be with friends and family hell, even start a family of his own with his girlfriend and maybe just maybe become a father like he always wanted to….

But hey, that’s life.

It doesn’t go like how you want it to go, like Eric doesn’t want to but the pain is becoming unbearable everyday, every second he moves to get up, to eat, to do the things he loved all he his life but now he couldn’t.

Not anymore.

The light gets dimmer, fog starts to cloud his eyes, heart beating weakly in his chest as he takes a breath again, he coughs a little. The room is silent except for his coughs, the beeps and the fan that was providing him some comfort at least but that was the only comfort he had these days.

The fan being on all the time with its noise, no one else except for doctors, nurses and occasionally his girlfriend, sometimes the band but they weren’t there that much due to their lives going off in their own way but…

Hey that’s just life, things change.

Yet, he wished Gene was here with him most of all.

He hadn’t seen him in a while or a long time, he missed him dearly, miss….

The demon, his friend.

‘’You know, it won’t hurt right?’’ Death gravely whispered, watching the monitors. Knowing the time is coming, knowing how this man’s life will end with just a simple touch of his skeletal hand or scythe, the fox will be no more than just a soul to bring to heaven. Giving him eternal peace instead of pain that was coursing through his body. Taking away the one thing that landed him here in the first place in exchange for his…

Soul.

Eric turned, it hurt. Looking at the one who’ll take him soon, a few follicles of hair fell. Some of them getting in his mouth, on his chest and on the floor as the lights gets more dimmer and the atmosphere more hazy. He took another breath, before speaking weakly.

‘’I..know..it won’t hurt but…’’ He murmured, swallowing gently. Trying to hold eye contact with death as everything starts to become more harder to talk, hear or to breathe. Tears peaked out from his eyes, his hands shook as he wiped them as they trembled. ‘’But…’’

‘’But, what.’’

‘’I’m not ready to go.’’ Eric uttered, voice of sadness pierced through Death. One sentence death knew all too well throughout the decades he had brought people peace or eternal damnation, bringing them to heaven nor hell or very rarely…

Purgatory.

Death sighed.

‘’Why aren’t you ready to go?’’ Death questioned, curious. Wanting to hear why Eric doesn’t want to go already despite the pain, he heard different reasons throughout his lifetimes each with good or bad or sometimes questionable but he come to understand that even life is questionable like people at times which fascinated him to a degree. ‘’Why aren’t you ready to move on, Young one?’

Silence fills the room, it’s getting hard to think.

The air is getting thin, hazy, harder to breathe.

Dimmer, harder to see.

Can’t hear the fan that much anymore, is it…

Still spinning, Eric thought.

He turned his head, staring through the window. Watching the dark skies, the cites being lit one by one with colorful bright lights that reminded him of his time on this world, in this life, in this day and age as it starts to snow.

Bringing some other form of comfort, as he…

Was reminded of Gene.

His eyes narrowed, as he stared.

His vision darkened each minute, as the skies were.

Gene…where was he?

He thought, blinking twice.

Not noticing, death has changed spots.

Standing near the window, looking out.

‘’Gene….’’ He mumbled, tiredly.

‘’It’s time.’’ Death proclaimed. Watching the lights go black, feeling the heart of the fox beat slow as a snail, the eyes of the fox becoming more colorless as the skin becomes paler, the breathing more shattered and painful to hear as the fox lays on his deathbed as death walks slowly to him, looking at him with emotions he knew all too well.

Death uncovered his hand, as he stood.

Watching this man vitals go down like cattle, the life draining from his eyes as Eric…

Reaches out his hand, crying out…

‘’Gene…’’

As Death decided to gently grab, intertwining his hands with his.

Morphing into the man himself to give the Fox something to see when his heart doesn’t beat no more.

‘’I’m Here.’’ Death proclaimed, holding Eric’s hand. Squeezing it, lightly.

‘’I’ve always been here.’’

‘’You…have?’’ Eric said, weakly.

Squeezing the hand, as well.

‘’Yes, Eric.’’

‘’How….long?’’

‘’Since, this morning.’’

‘’This…morning…?’’

‘’Yeah, this morning. I came here to visit you, to see how the foxman is doing and it seems that you were doing well for the first time, not well or great but well in my eyes.’’ Death said, smiling. ‘’And i was wondering….’’

His eyes glowed, smoothing out Eric’s knuckles.

‘’Did you sleep, well?’’

Eric took a breath.

‘’Did you get enough sleep?’’

Another breath.

‘’Any good dreams?’’

A beep, another breath.

‘’Anything good in the end, that you’ve wanted to dream of?’’ Death softly said, as Eric looked up at the ceiling fan. Watching the fan spin again as he tried to think but it was hard to think now as he said….

‘’No…’’

‘’What do you want to dream of? To see, feel or hear?’’ Death asked, feeling Eric’s hand starting to limp.

‘’What do i want to dream of…?’’

‘’Yes, Eric. What do you want to see forever for eternity?’’

Death asked, for the final time as silence fills the room. As the city becomes coated in snow, getting more light out, the monitor beeps for a final time while the clock starts ticking as Eric closes his eyes as he says as his….

Heart beats one final time.

He says…

‘’I want to dream of….’’

‘’Of…..’’’

‘’The life i’ve had…before…’'

‘’Before….’’

‘’I…’’

‘’Got…’’

Another breath, the final one.

‘’Sick.’’

He breathed, as Death held his hand while Eric….

Passed on, into the afterlife.

Peacefully, Forever.

With the dreams of the life he had before….

Everything.

#butters speaking #kiss #kiss band #kiss army #kissblr #Eric carr #tw death #tw cancer #tw hospitals

[shadowbriar]

George Weasley - Vitalum Vitalis

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader Word Count : 1.8k Warning : Blood. Mention of Injury. Second Wizarding War. Synopsis : Balancing the scales of life and death is never close to the word safe, but what else could she do when he’s losing his other half? Reference: American Horror Story Coven Notes : Reader is in Ginny’s year, I wrote this in a hurry so future edits might be possible. This is the 4th post for my (late) 7-days post plan. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕  

A wise man once said, with knowledge comes power. Perhaps that is the reason why she’s always been a very proud Ravenclaw. She wears the colour blue like her blood was the colour of it and flaunts her house crest like it was a medal. She is the Ravenclaw princess, the one with the wittiest mind and cleverest ideas. For her, knowledge is everything. She could shape it to anything she would like it to be. A weapon, a shield, a shelter, anything. But for this one moment, she would use it as an answer.

The butterfly has been dead for three days now. Her roommates were beginning to question when she would throw away its decaying body as it was starting to be an ugly sight to see, and she would always give them the same answer: “I’ll bury it once I have the chance.”

Now that her roommates are out, she quickly seize the chance and lock the doors, reaching for the jar of her dead pet. The colour of its wings were dull, she knew it would rip if she tried to pick it up. Yet it only made her want to do it more. The more damage to it, the more she could measure how powerful the spell she’s about to perform. She’s always been a fast learner, the most gifted student Professor Flitwick would praise her, but with this one spell, she wasn’t sure if her proficiency would be enough.

Placing the butterfly on her palm, she gently covers it with both of her hands and places it close to her chest. She closes her eyes, mentally preparing herself to whisper the spell, “Vitalum Vitalis.”

When she opened her eyes, she could feel the slightest tickle on her palms. Like something was moving inside it. A proud smile now etches on her face as she opens her hands, letting the butterfly fly out. Its wings were vibrant, flying around her as if it recognised her and the best thing of all, she felt nothing different. The book did say that in order to perform the balancing spell, a certain amount of energy from the caster will be harvested to restore the balance and it would be a lie if that warning didn’t send shivers down her spine. Yet perhaps a butterfly as her very first trial was a much too small of a creature to ever cause much effect on her.

A knock was suddenly heard on the door. She quickly hides the book she’s stolen from the restricted area under her bed and heads to the door, unlocking it and smiling to her friend, “Hello.”

“Your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the common room.” Her friend informed, noticing her flying butterfly on the back “Hey, you’ve got a new butterfly, that’s nice.”

She nods, smiling beamingly, “Thanks, I’ll go down in a bit.”

With a returned nod, she closes the door and puts the butterfly back in its jar. A proud smile is still plastered on her face. There was only a short list of recorded wizards and witches who could perform the spell, as it requires a whole different set of skills, to conduct a charm without a wand, and yet she’s done it. To say that it boosted a little bit of her ego would be such an understatement.

But then again, with knowledge comes power, and with power comes great responsibility. She knows that meddling with the balance of nature is not something one should do. Balancing life and death could mean harnessing or restoring the force from one to another, but she has no desire to do the prior. All she wanted to do is to restore life, though she knows the more complex the creature, the more gruesome the state of the individual she wishes to revive, the more of her power would be aspirated and it is for sure not anywhere near to the word safe.

But with the war brewing just outside of the castle’s walls, just how much safety can someone truly have?

—-

Her breath was hitched when he saw him entering the Great Hall with the rest of the Order. As much as she’s glad to see him, the realisation that they would be facing war in mere hours and that they would have to shed every last bit of safety they have, scares her. The many years of practice and spells learned doesn’t seem to be nearly enough now that she has to fight in the battlefield.

As soon as Snape apparates away, as soon as Voldemort finishes his words, as soon as students shuffle out of the Great Hall, she quickly finds herself running to him. The world might be crumbling into ashes but in this very moment, inside his embrace, everything feels tranquil and serene.

“I’ve missed you.” George whispered as he pulled her close “Perhaps I should thank Voldy for making us meet faster before the semester ends.”

“Shut up.” She says, struggling to keep her tears from falling “We’re literally knocking on our death’s door and you still have the heart to joke about it.”

“Well I am the jokester, am I not?” He chuckles whole heartedly.

She remains quiet, heart still heavy from the horror.

“Hey,” He calls softly, breaking the hug as he cups her face gently “We’ll be alright, I promise.”

She shakes her head, “Don’t make such promises, George. You know I hate it when you give me false hope.”

“Only that it’s not false hope, Darling. I mean it, we’ll be alright.” 

A tear finally escapes her eyes, breaking down from all the fright of the upcoming war.

“I’ll meet you back here when it’s over.” He reassures, his calloused thumbs now caressing her skin. George’s hazel eyes were filled with love, trying to give her the most confidence he could convey “I’ll find you, I promise.”

She nods, convincing herself from his words, “Be careful, okay?”

“When am I not?” He winks before pulling her for a kiss “I’ll come and find you. Be safe, please.”

And with that, George is pulled away along with Fred to guard the Astronomy Tower while she’s ushered to help cast the protection spells on the other side of the castle.

—-

Her body was sore, blood dripping down the side of her temple as she limped down to the corridor. Voldemort has recalled his forces, giving them the slight window to take a breath and regroup. The smell of smoke and dust was burning her lungs, trying to walk through the rubbles of the fallen walls feels like a never ending torture, but George’s words played in her head like a broken record, pumping her veins with adrenaline that she could still now move her feet to try and find him.

When she reaches the Great Hall, stretchers with cold bodies have laid on its floor. Familiar faces that still bid her a smile earlier this morning now lay emotionless, eyes closed for eternity. 

She quickens her pace as she spots familiar redheads standing next to a body. She wasn’t sure who the family’s mourning, it was hard to see with so many of them circling the stretcher, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it? Whoever the Weasleys’ crying for would be someone she cried for too.

“George?” She calls softly as she reaches the family.

The tall boy turns his body at her voice, revealing his bloodshot eyes and broken expression. He pulls her for a tight hug, completely breaking down inside her embrace as he begins to wail for his twins’ name.

Fred.

As if a thunder had struck, she could feel her blood run cold. She glances to the body lying on the floor, Fred looking so peaceful as if he was just sleeping and would wake up abruptly anytime soon, pulling the most wicked prank yet. She would hate him to ever pull a heartless prank like that on his family, but anything other than the fact that he’s left them for good would certainly be better.

George’s body was shaking from all the crying. She knew that he would never survive a life without Fred. He would never be able to live a day without his other half. And this is when she knows that her practice of reviving creatures, from butterflies to dead deer she found in the forbidden forest would finally be useful.

This is the time to use her knowledge as an answer.

“George, my Love,” She calls softly, trying to calm him for a little “Look at me, please.”

The boy reluctantly breaks their embrace, staring at her with his teary eyes.

“I love you,” She whispers “I love you so much, George Weasley. You are the one person that has always brightened my days, the one person that shows me that there’s more to life than books and knowledge.”

George brows furrow, seemingly confused at his girlfriends’ sudden confession.

“I hope you know how much you truly mean to me one day, because there isn’t a word that could express half of what I feel for you.” She continues, her tears falling from her eyes.

Softly, she pulls him for a kiss. The kind of kiss that feels like a goodbye, the one that you know you would miss for the years to come, but in that moment, George was still too distraught of losing his twin to notice the goodbye she was bidding, “Please be happy for me.”

“What are you–”

Before he could continue his words, she found herself kneeling next to Fred, taking his now cold hand into hers. She holds it gently and places it close to her chest, caressing his blood stained skin with tenderness. Fred looks handsome, despite the small cuts on his cheek and the pale look of his skin. In a few minutes, colour would return and he would be his cheerful self again.

“Please take care of him.” She whispers to Fred, hoping that her message could be heard by him somehow.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes and begins to focus her mind on the spell. This would just be like her other trials, she told herself. Reviving a deer made her nose bleed, gave her a light headache that made her have to stay under Madam Pomfrey’s care for a couple of days. It would certainly require more of her energy to revive Fred back to alive but whatever she has to put on the stake now, she would.

“Vitalum Vitalis.”

Within seconds, Fred’s lips have regained their pink colour and the slightest twitch could be seen around his eyes. She could feel him moving his fingers, making her to open her eyes to see him with a smile, glad pouring over her to know that she’s able to bring back what the family has lost.

But when he opens his eyes, her vision turns black, falling onto the floor as she feels her skin turn cold.

This is the end.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley scenario #george weasley scenarios #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc

[cimerran-714]

Debunking an argument that Ron was justified in leaving his friends during the Horcrux Hunt

So, I don't really like to get into arguments. I try to avoid them whenever possible. But I was going through Quora, and I came across an answer by a Ron-Weasley apologist (that's a moniker they gave themselves) who attempted to defend him abandoning Harry and Hermione during the Horcrux hunt.

The writer was apparently glad that he'd done so. It'd turned into a mildly anti-Harry/Hermione rant too. Which is of course filled with the same nonsense.

Now, honestly, I do like Ron. I'm not one of those who pretend to either. I really do like him. But when you attempt to whitewash all of the bad things he's done (and before anyone points out, yes, Harry/Hermione are not saints either), that doesn't make you look much better.

Let me just address what this person has written (and here's a link for those who'd prefer to read it directly https://www.quora.com/How-do-you-feel-about-Ron-Weasley-abandoning-Harry-and-Hermione-in-Deathly-Hallows):

Unpopular opinion? I’m glad he LEFT the Hunt. That camping trip was the most boring, dull, stupid, and useless part of a fictional war I’ve ever read. Ron single-handedly saved it when came back.

Okay, so at least we start off by agreeing with it partially. The camping was bad, and I personally thought it was a huge waste of time too. And yes, Ron did save Harry when he returned, although it might sound a little like plot-convenience to me. But there's not much of a disagreement here.

So, why am I glad he left the tent?

It got him away from the Horcrux that had been torturing him for months. It got him away from something that turned his self-loathing and insecurities into suicidal ideations. The Locket weaponized Ron’s depression and anxiety against him in horrible ways and I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did before snapping and walking away from it. People that look at Ron here and think he’s weak and cowardly are just downright fooling themselves if they honestly believe they’d do any better than Ron did. I mean, he was 17 and people still act as if Ron leaving Harry and Hermione here was some type of unforgivable war crime or that it’d make him the next Pettigrew. It’s disgusting. Revolting. Makes me glad I don’t associate with anyone like them in my real life.

To break it down:

It got him away from the Horcrux that had been torturing him for months.

At the cost of his friends who suffered a lot more than when there together, after he left. Also, aside from the fact that Ron was splinched, I'm not sure that there was anything to specifically torture him. Otherwise, Harry and Hermione were getting "tortured" too.

It got him away from something that turned his self-loathing and insecurities into suicidal ideations.

Genuine question: does anyone remember any implication in Deathly Hallows that Ron had turned suicidal?

The Locket weaponized Ron’s depression and anxiety against him in horrible ways and I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did before snapping and walking away from it.

True, but he left even after hurling the locket down. We know from Harry's experience that its effect vanishes soon after you remove it. So you can't blame it entirely on the locket, which is just nonsense.

People that look at Ron here and think he’s weak and cowardly are just downright fooling themselves if they honestly believe they’d do any better than Ron did.

Well, I don't think Ron was weak or cowardly. I just think he was very much rude (he insulted Harry's parents, for one thing). So it sounds a bit like a strawman. He acted badly, but he might not necessarily have been a "coward", as we do have instances where he's shown to be brave.

I mean, he was 17 and people still act as if Ron leaving Harry and Hermione here was some type of unforgivable war crime or that it’d make him the next Pettigrew. It’s disgusting. Revolting. Makes me glad I don’t associate with anyone like them in my real life.

Why are they so desperate to justify what Ron did? He'd promised to accompany his friends (remember that Harry had told them that he didn't want that), and when he realized that his best friend hadn't lied, he flipped out, insulted his parents, and abandoned them during the middle of a war. He acted as if he were the only person who was having a miserable time there, which is a bad thing to do.

And no, that's not nearly as bad as what Pettigrew did (again, remember that it's a strawman, I've never met anyone comparing him to Pettigrew), but it's not a good thing to do nevertheless.

He needed to get his Splinching wound healed properly. Dittany wasn’t enough. He needed blood-replenishing potions and pain relief potions. He needed real rest and food to recover.

Honestly, it's probably the only valid point in this entire rant, so I'd give it some credit. But if he'd wanted to take time to recover, he could've done that without flipping out too.

Also, can someone point out to me where it says that Dittany wasn't enough to heal his wounds? I was under the impression that a few weeks had passed after he got splinched, when Ron left the Trio.

Because of this:

Autumn rolled over the countryside as they moved through it. They were now pitching the tent on mulches of fallen leaves. Natural mists joined those cast by the dementors: wind and rain added to their troubles.

He was right about the mission not going well. They were in over their heads. Camping was getting them nowhere. Harry even said their biggest accomplishment was not being dead yet. People were dying as they were hiding. Not finding more Horcruxes or ways to destroy the one they had was disheartening for all of them. 

All correct points, but as Harry was perfectly honest with them since the very beginning, it's completely irrelevant. Ron thought he was lying, that's on him.

They were stuck, but Harry had refused all help so far and Ron knew he’d keep refusing.

"All help" as in refusing Lupin's assistance? Is this person excusing him trying to be a deadbeat father?

So, yes, Ron was frustrated with the way Harry was “leading” them and he had a right to be.

No, he absolutely did not. Again: Harry was being honest, but Ron thought he was lying. That's Ron's fault for not believing his best of around six years, not anyone else's.

Why does nobody ever mention that Hermione agrees with Ron, but she was too afraid to ever say it out loud to Harry?

Why does no one talk about how even though she might've been mistaken in her idea that Harry was holding back, she was still willing (although she could've Disapparated with Ron instead) to help him with the search? Ron could've done that too.

Instead, she threw Ron under the bus trying to save herself.

No... that's a really weird way of looking at it. She wasn't throwing him under the bus. She wanted to help Harry. If she wanted to save herself, she could've just Disapparated with Harry instead.

People hate Ron because he’s never been afraid to call out Harry and Hermione. He doesn’t lick their boots or blindly follow them and people HATE him for that. How dare this super average nobody named Ron ever dare to tell Harry The Hero and Hermione The Goddess they’re wrong or that their ideas aren’t working?!

Honestly, that's such a ridiculous strawman that it's not even worth debunking. No one I've ever met (including anti-Ron folks) believe that he was Harry/Hermione's slave or anything. It might be fun to make things up, but please ensure that you don't lie about what others believe.

Ron was trying to see if Harry saw anything related to his family in the visions he got from Voldemort. We saw how worried Ron was about his family after the Death Eaters attacked Bill and Fleur’s wedding. We also saw just how physically relieved he was at getting his dad’s Patronus. It was never going to be easy for Ron to go with Harry and Hermione on the run knowing he left his family behind in the world where Voldemort was in control, especially once they had no way of ever knowing anything after Grimmauld Place.

Again:

He willingly accompanied them despite knowing that it's not going to be a cakewalk.

If he wanted to leave, he could've done that nicely. That's what a best friend's supposed to do.

The next section's about them describing why Ron was worried about his family, and I don't really have anything to say there. My point still stands.

So we move on.

Harry was being downright awful to Ron during the fight and he didn’t have the Horcrux on at the time

How so? By telling Ron that he had a problem when he was acting like a douchebag, and asking him to leave when he implied that he didn't want to stay?

If that qualifies as "downright awful", then I wonder what's it like to insult your dead parents, ask your other best friend to abandon your friend, accuse her of "choosing" him, and Disapparate despite her (the person you like) asking you to stay back?

Ron leaving showed how badly Harry and Hermione needed Ron. How much they missed him. Hermione spent weeks crying for him. Harry had never felt more hopeless in his life. They even resorted to taking out a portrait to have company because they didn’t talk to each other much. Like, it got better towards the end right before Godric’s Hollow, but Harry’s broken wand took them back to almost silence. 

"See, he abandoned his best friends, and they missed him a lot. That makes him such a good person, and his actions were absolutely justified."

Is.... this even an argument? It proves the point that his actions were not justified considering the effect that it had on his friends. It's gone from a post justifying what Ron did, to an anti-Harmony post. It's not surprising, because it's almost always anti-Harmony shippers who write such rubbish anyway.

There was no dancing or “charged moments” like JKR supposedly said existed (and if she was actually serious about that and not just pandering to the Harmony fans, well, that’s just even more proof that she sucks at romance, LMAO).

Oh, there are. A lot of them, actually. But I'm not writing this to make a case for Harmony, so let's just walk past that for now.

The next section is about how Ron's return helped the Trio, which is something I don't disagree with. Very reasonable points. I'm not sure how it justifies leaving them in the first place, however.

JKR once made a comment about how Hermione was the one who stayed with Harry throughout the whole last book and how that said something powerful about her while Ron leaving said something powerful about him. But it’s like… her writing reflected the complete opposite of that. Hermione might have stayed with Harry, but the only things they accomplished was almost getting themselves killed, breaking Harry’s wand, and finding and trusting a book written by Rita Skeeter.

Nah, that's not true at all. There are a lot of Harry/Hermione moments after Ron left them. But then again, that's a point for another post. This one's been long enough already.

So, yeah, I'll just end it here. I'm not good at signing off by making impressive comments, but to whoever's reading this: have a good day.

#harmony #harmione #harry x hermione #harry and hermione #harry potter series #harry potter #harry potter books #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #hogwarts #the golden trio #ron weasley #ronald weasley #harry james potter #post hogwarts #harry/hermione #books and reading #booksbooksbooks

[memequeen92]

more spingtap headcanon questions bc i crave that man mineral- this time pertaining to his sight/vision and hearing. how are those compared to when he was living? does he have darkvision now? Bonus question 'bout those eyes of his: are they always glowing, but its simply more noticeable in the dark/low-light? and is it something he's aware of/can control?

ooh yess

i could go on for hours about this man i swear

Vision:

His vision is worse in the light now - sunlight, fluorescent light, anything bright - actually painful for him, especially since I touched on my headcanon for him having a dull, constant headache last post - light is not his friend, he avoids it whenever possible.

However, on the flipside of that - he can see very well in the dark now (the animatronics seem to make their way pretty well in darkness after all) - it’s easier on his eyes, and has the added bonus that most people he might hunt down don’t have the same visibility in darkness that he does - so it gives him the upper hand as well - which is something he always enjoys having, ofc.

His eyes glow pretty much constantly - most of the time it’s a very dull glow, but it does get brighter sometimes - mostly if he’s particularly excited (about to murder someone perhaps?) or pissed off (got kicked in the shins, and is about to murder the perpetrator, perhaps?). It’s entirely non-intentional and he hasn’t really taken notice of it - it has no effect on his ability to see. It does dim quite a bit when he closes his eyes, but it’s still there, just less noticeable. 

Bonus headcanon:  If he’s recently obtained any remnant for himself, his irises will have the very lightest tinge of lavender on the very edges of them - but it’s not noticeable unless you’re really up in his face.

Hearing:

His hearing isn’t terrible, but it’s definitely not what it used to be - he mostly has trouble with figuring out what direction a sound may have come from, and if something is said particularly quietly, he may not hear it very well. His rabbit ears twitch a bit when he’s trying to pinpoint the source of a sound, even though they have no effect on his ability to hear.

High pitched noises can easily leave him disoriented because he has no real ability to block them out anymore - things with a high level of bass will also bug him, but not nearly as badly as high-pitched sounds will. He’s basically just a little more hard of hearing with an added sensitivity to loud, shrill noises and a general disdain for bass.

His hearing could probably be worse, but luckily there’s lots of holes in his mask in the general area where his ears once were so it’s not too bad. 

#save #springtrap headcanons #he's kinda like a bat but more murderous #and moldy.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Cursed Part 1- Steve Harrington x OC

Steve Harrington x Ella Warner

Description: Ella becomes nervous when Max explains the “symptoms” of Vecna’s curse. Why did they sound eerily similar to what she’d been going through over the past week?

Word Count: 1.9k

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Miss Kelly for help,” Max explained shakily as she looked through the duo’s files in said woman’s office at Hawkins High. Ella, Steve and Dustin looked between themselves unsurely, but Ella was the one most on edge.

“Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that wouldn’t go away,” the redhead continued. Almost as if on cue, the dull throbbing she’d gotten used to by this point slowly blossomed at the back of Ella’s head, slowly seeping its way to the front and getting sharper as it reached it. Her eyes closed for a moment as she willed herself not to grimace while Max continued reading.

“And then…then the nightmares. Trouble sleeping. They’d wake up in a cold sweat,” she read aloud. Ella was brought back to just last night, the night before Chrissy’s body was discovered. That was the last time she’d had a nightmare. It was worse than what Miss Kelly had written on paper. It wasn’t just cold sweats, it was waking up still thinking that she was in the hellscape that her mind had subjected her to. It was the tears and choked sobs that never seemed to end or even slow down as she attempted to gather her bearings in her dark and mostly shapeless bedroom.

“Then they started seeing things. Bad things. From their pasts,” Max spoke. Like Ella’s dad, who had died just last year?

“These visions, they just… they kept on getting worse and worse, until eventually… everything ended.” Ella had to force herself not to flinch as the younger girl finished her little explanation.

“Vecna’s curse,” Dustin muttered, earning a nod from her.

Chrissy's headache started a week ago. Fred's, six days ago. I've been having them for five days,” she said quietly, which made every single one of them tense up. “I don't know how long I have. All I know is that, for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision. And I just saw that goddamn clock, so… looks like I'm gonna die tomorrow.” While everyone just looked amongst themselves once again, Ella was internally panicking. Not only had she displayed all the “symptoms” of Vecna’s curse, but she’d already had a vision of the grandfather clock.

It was just after her latest nightmare. She had gotten up to get a glass of water and maybe call Steve in order to calm herself down. Before she had a chance to pick up the receiver, spiders began crawling out of the bottom of it. She remembered how scared she’d been, and when she turned to the front door to run out, she was met with a grandfather clock that was at least two feet taller than her. The pendulum swung in time with the ticking of the second hand, and it felt like a clap of thunder every time. Something stuck out like a sore thumb to her (other than the fact that there was an unfamiliar clock in her house): the Black Widow spider that crawled around in circles on the pendulum.

Thankfully her phone ringing had woken her up from the weird trance she seemed to be in. At first she just brushed it off as an extension of her nightmare that made her sleepwalk. As for her other symptoms, her therapist had told her that she may experience some side effects as the anniversary of the Starcourt Mall incident came up, so she chalked it up to that. Of course she now knew that wasn’t the case.

Ella was at a loss for words on what to do. On one hand there was a possibility that she was just overthinking things and connecting them to the situation incorrectly. On the other, there was a much bigger and very real possibility that it was too late for her. She’d already had a vision, and it had already been fourteen hours. Her shoulders slumped a bit as she realized that the second option was more likely. How was she going to tell the others? How was she going to tell Steve? He had definitely noticed a difference in her over the past week, but she hadn’t confided in him about what was going on because she didn’t think that it was that bad. At this point Nancy and Robin hadn’t found any answers about how to deal with this because at the moment they were only learning about Victor Creel, so as far as they knew there wasn’t a way to fix this. So, she decided to accept her fate and not tell anyone. It would be better for them to not have that dread added to an already scary situation.

The next day was tense for everyone. Lucas had previously joined the group after informing them that Jason Carver and his friends were going after Eddie and everyone decided to spend the night in Nancy Wheeler’s basement in order to keep an eye on Max. That morning Nancy and Robin left for the Pennhurst Asylum to talk to Victor Creel and get more information on what happened to his family.

While they did that, Max asked Steve to drive her all around town so she could deliver letters to people such as Jenna Wilson, her mother, etc. The last stop they made was at the cemetery, where Ella knew Billy had been buried. Though Steve was annoyed about being her personal chauffeur, he allowed Max a few minutes to go to Billy’s grave and do whatever she needed to do after some convincing from Ella.

A few minutes went by and Max still wasn’t back. Steve had reached his breaking point and finally got out of the car, ignoring both Ella and Lucas’ protests. That ended up being for the best as just a moment later they heard him yelling the girl’s name worriedly. The kids and Ella jumped out of the car to see what was wrong. While Dustin attempted to reach Nancy and Robin with his walkie talkie, Lucas and Ella ran over to the duo.

A horrified gasp left the latter’s lips when she noticed that Max’s eyes had rolled to the back of her head. She dropped to her knees and attempted to shake her awake while she, Steve and Lucas yelled her name. Fear and adrenaline coursed through her, and her boyfriend had to hold her back from shaking her too hard. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Dustin dropped beside them, spilling a walkman and cassettes all over the ground.

“What the hell?” Steve questioned confusedly, but Dustin only shook his head before looking around.

“What’s her favorite song?” He panted out.

“What?” Lucas and Ella exclaimed in unison, panic in both of their voices.

“Robin said if she listens…” he trailed off before shaking his head again, more urgently this time. “It’s too much to explain now! What’s her favorite song?” They all looked through the music selection before Lucas finally picked up “Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush. Ella shakily grabbed the walkman and shoved the cassette into it, pressing play as Dustin shoved the headphones over Max’s ears. For a few minutes nothing happened. The others continued to call Max’s name, desperate to get her out of her trance.

The four of them moved back as Max started lifting into the air as if she were in some sort of theater flying system. Ella, in an attempt to hold her down, grabbed onto her legs. That didn’t deter her though, in fact it only lifted Ella into the air as well. She quickly lost her grip as Max suddenly stopped almost ten feet off the ground, and she found herself falling. Thankfully Steve was there to catch her, but now all the group could do was watch in horror as she continued to levitate and continue to call for her to come back.

Finally, after what felt like hours (though it couldn’t have been more than just a few minutes), Max suddenly fell to the ground. All four of them acted as a cushion for her, and she ended up in Lucas’ arms. Her eyes were back to normal, but now tears spilled out of them like an emotional waterfall. Her breathing was erratic as she clutched the Sinclair boy’s arms around her as if she was trying to ground herself. Steve and Dustin backed up to give her space, but Ella moved forward to carefully cradle the girl’s cheeks and wipe away her tears.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” she whispered soothingly, which calmed the girl down. One hand lifted from Lucas’ arm to hold Ella’s hand, her grip tight.

“I-I thought we lost you,” Lucas muttered worriedly. Max shook her head slowly.

“I’m still…I’m still here,” she practically whispered, looking around at her friends before her eyes landed on Ella. “I’m still here.”

The rest of the afternoon and that evening was still tense, though there was now an air of relief around the group. Not only did they discover how to help stop someone from being killed by Vecna, but Max had survived her encounter with the creature. The mere thought made Ella giddy. Gone was the thought of what was to come for her. All she was focused on was Max’s comfort after all she’d been through that day. The day’s events weighed heavily on everyone, and all they wanted to do was sleep.

Everyone had gone to their own homes, and since Steve had picked up Ella that morning, he was the one to take her home. The car ride was silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or strained at all. Ella couldn’t tell what her boyfriend was thinking, but based on his knitted eyebrows, she would guess that he was thinking about what happened earlier.

Once he pulled into the driveway and parked the car, she looked at him. This was quite possibly the last time she’d ever see him, and she wanted to make the most of their last moments. Her hand rested over his, which now sat on his lap and his hand turned over to hold hers in response. The gesture made her smile as she forced herself not to cry in front of him.

“I love you Stevie. You know that, right?” The confession was random, but with any luck he would think that she was just telling him after such a difficult day. Steve nodded, a small smile on his face.

“Of course I do. And I love you too, more than anything.” The girl nodded, then leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“I know,” she muttered. His thumb rubbed over her knuckles soothingly.

“You know, you can tell me if something’s bothering you. Or if you don’t want to talk about it, we can just talk about whatever. After today I don’t want anything to come between us or anything like that.” The girl’s smile turned sad, and she nodded.

“I know. I just wanted to remind you that I love you,” she responded simply. Though hesitant, Steve nodded and gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“Go get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow,” he instructed gently. Ella nodded, offering him one more kiss before getting out. She got to her front door and waved until he was out of the driveway before finally walking inside her house. Where she walked into her doom.

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x oc

[kryzeeee]

November 07, 2023

I've always known that I was different since I was a little girl. A small, 10 year-old, fifth grader walking around tiptoed. I always had a hard time going with the flow. I always had a penchant for wanting to make my own.

I've never hated that part of me. I've always had a neutral view about it, meaning that it depends on the effects its' had on my actions and decisions. However, it doesn't mean there weren't any cause for doubts.

No, actually, deep down, there were never any doubts at all. Its' just that sitting next to her made things much clearer. Like a blinding light passing through a dark forest from the road nearby along with the blaring siren.

Thinking back, it was at best, unpleasant. Nowadays, it makes me feel freer yet more trapped at the same time. Knocking on closet doors hoping to bust out.

Sitting next to her, always put a smile to my face. Any time she smiled, her eyes lit up like fairy lights. She was the most beautiful girl I had sat next to. It wasn't that she was physically built like a goddess or something.

Now, don't get me wrong, its' not that she's ugly. She's beautiful. But, it wasn't her beauty that drew me to her. It was her personality, getting to know her was one of the most interesting journey of my life.

The touch of her fingertips was like cotton candy on my skin and her laughter was like tinkling of a xylophone, a gentle song in my eardrums. She was a masterpiece, a venerable art piece.

She was strength, she was grace, she was bravery, determination and intellect yet she was weakness, a clumsy mess, a scaredy cat and she had her stupid moments.

She wasn't perfect. However, that was what made her human. It made her more beautiful than she already was. She was genuine and honest of her dislike for other's actions, yet still polite. It was inspiring seeing her struggle with putting on a respectful face and controlling her speech everytime someone irritated her. But, anytime, someone crossed a line, she was not afraid to fight for herself like a fierce tiger defending her territory.

The determination she showed in ensuring that she wouldn't hurt other's feeling made her stand out from all the other people in any room she stood in. She inspired me to always see the good in others and taught me that there are limits to the kindness I bestow upon people, family, friends, or strangers.

She broke the monotony of my everyday life. She gave a sparkle to the sullen pages and color to the dull gray of my soul. She transformed the frown on my lips into a blinding smile. She has been one of the most important people in my life since last year.

I thought that every laughter, hugs and small touches on each other's cheeks meant something. I thought they were signs that she could have felt the same way about me, that I could have been more than a friend to her. I should have told her how I felt, maybe she did feel the same. But then again my cowardice won out because I was afraid that I could ruin what we already had.

Our friendship.

Something I thought I could have forever. But, like always, I was wrong. Our relationship was like fragile glass at the edge of the cliff. A single quake, it fell, and broke into tiny little shards and stuck themselves into the soles of my feet. All the steps toward you make them dig deeper into my flesh and a suffocating pain envelops my heart.

It hurts more as I get closer to you because I'm reminded of what we could have had. You, being so close to her, your hands on her cheeks, on her hips, your sneaky little comments about her cuteness and how you wish to take her home only solidifies the regret that I feel.

No, its not just regret that stims in my soul. The jealousy that I feel is begging to release itself, tied up by loose threads in the surface of my chest. It should have been me who comforted you as you cried, mourning your father's death. But, I understand thats selfish because I couldn't possibly relate.

I'm glad she was there beside you. She helped you build yourself back up. Not because I was unable to, but simply because she could and she wanted to. She was able to choose between letting you suffer alone with no one to lean on and lending you her ears. She made the brave choice that I should have chosen and for that I respect her.

Still, I should have been there beside you, listening to your words. Instead, I hid away from any sign of growing closeness to other people because I've always been afraid to get hurt. I know I shouldn't be jealous, I let it come to this.

I let everything we built together turn to ash, like a flightless, wet paper plane deemed useless, then burned in the blazing fire. You deserved someone open, genuine, brave, kind, and determined by your side. You deserve someone better.

I realize that's not me and it will never be.

You were one of the first people that inspired me to be genuine and for that, there will always be special place for you in my heart and I will always be there to help you in any way I can.

I regret that I wasn't able to maintain the friendship we once had. Yet, I'm thankful that I was able to end it the way it should.

#bisexual

[enhanceskin]

MOST PROMISING BENEFITS OF USING TEA TREE FACE MIST

Makeup looks, hairstyles, and haircuts were the only things to trend before, but now skincare products are too. A Facial Mist is one product that has seen significant growth in demand recently. Although washing, toning and moisturizing the face are all necessary, face mists have additional benefits. Your assumptions will be proven incorrect if you assume this is just another part of your skincare regimen.

 A face spray may do wonders for your skin. It's a great way to revive your complexion throughout the day and may even make your skin seem younger and healthier in the long run. Here's why and how to use a facial mist.

BENEFITS OF USING TEA TREE FACE MIST

Face mists are water-based and quickly absorbed by the skin; as a result, they can lock in moisture and keep the skin wet for an extended period. When applied to the skin before sunscreen, a tea tree facial mist can help seal in the moisture and prevent a sense of dryness from developing.

Maintains the skin's youthful appearance: If you want your skin to seem fresh, dewy, and radiant, you should begin using face mist as soon as possible. You probably weren't aware of this, but it's common practice for Korean women to have a little bottle of perfume in their bags at all times, and they spritz it whenever they get the chance, whether at a café or going down the street. Their wonderful skin ought to be enough to persuade you to get a face mist as soon as possible.

Do you notice that by midday your skin is starting to appear dull? If so, this simple touch-up can help. Applying Tea Tree Face Mist is preferable to the more traditional method of applying powder to the skin. This will revitalize both your skin and your cosmetics. Wait until the mist has completely dried before applying a little dusting of powder so that you can keep the shine under control.

Lifesaver Face Mist:

Essential oils are typically used for Tea Tree Facial Mists to give them that additional kick. This is a lifesaver if you spend your day in a cubicle surrounded by air conditioning units. Because skin can get dehydrated in artificially chilly environments, a face mist with a combination of oils can be a helpful way to restore its natural moisture balance.

Using a face spray is a great way to calm sensitive skin.

Too much time spent in the open air? Simply spray some tea tree face mist onto the affected area to quickly calm sunburned skin. Instead of wiping it down, you may just let it air dry. Even when I'm at my cozy home office, I still spray my face.

Using a facial spray prevents moisture loss.

Before applying your regular moisturizer to your face, try misting your face with a tea tree facial mist. This will assist the moisture you put on your face to stay on your skin for much longer. Before I use my daughter Earth’s daily moisturizer, I first spritz my face with rose water. Daughter Earth makes a great product. This helps to maintain the softness and dewiness of my skin for a longer period of time.

Your face should be prepared for makeup using a tea tree face mist.

 Tea tree facial mist may be used passionately about wearing makeup. I learned that a tea tree facial mist may be used really effectively in place of a primer. After thoroughly cleansing your face, you should spray it on and then wait for it to dry on its own before beginning to apply makeup.

The use of a face mist can assist in making heavy creams more easily absorbed by the skin.

Have you ever purchased a nice night cream only to find that it was too thick to really put on your face? Or even anything like a moisturizing body butter or cream. Don't put them back on the shelf in the vain hope that you'll eventually need them. Instead, add a small amount of tea tree face mist to the product in order to dilute its consistency and make it more usable.

Using tea tree face mists to blend with face masks:

If you are sick of diluting the consistency of your face mask by adding liquids such as water or milk, try adding some face mist to the mixture instead. If you don't want to spend a lot of money on tea tree face mist, you may obtain the consistency you want by mixing equal parts pure rose water, plain water, or pure aloe gel with a little bit of face mist in a bowl and then applying the mixture to your face. After removing the mask from your face, you should immediately use a tea tree face mist to give your skin an additional boost of nourishment and moisture.

#tea tree face mist

[raggaraddy]

Mouthy

Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"

A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.

Alpha! Namjoon

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"

The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.

Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.

"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.

"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?

"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.

"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.

"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."

King! Seokjin

You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.

"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh. 

But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.

"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.

"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.

"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.

"My Lord, I-"

"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n.  I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."

Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.

"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."

Assassin! Yoongi

He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.

"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."

But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.

After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.

"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."

Vampire! Hoseok

Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.

"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."

You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"

You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.

"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."

He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.

As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.

"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."

Playboy! Jimin

He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.

"Where are you going?"

"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.

But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.

"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."

"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.

He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.

Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.

"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.

You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.

"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."

Dom! Taehyung

Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.

You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.

"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.

His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.

"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.

"No, what?" He pushes it.

You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.

And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.

"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.

"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.

"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."

"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.

Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.

"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.

"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."

Mafia! Jungkook

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.

"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.

You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.

"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.

You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.

"I'm sorry," you squeak.

"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."

"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.

You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.

"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #bts smut #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #dom!taehyung #yandere jhope #yandere suga #yandere jimin #yandere namjoon #yandere jin #bts reactions #bangtan smut reactions #bangtan reactions #bangtan fanfic #bangtan reaction #bts fan fiction

[lunar-wandering]

petals for two

finally, here it is. the Shadowpeach non-fatal Hanahaki AU the people have been waiting for.

Word Count: 13k

Read on Ao3

Bajie and Wujing found Wukong kneeling down by the river.

Again.

For the third day in a row.

"...Elder brother?" Wujing asked, watching how Wukong's back and tail stiffened. "Are you...okay?"

"...Just peachy..." Wukong said, but the way he said it was quiet, wheezy, and entirely unconvincing. Bajie quirked an eyebrow.

"Really? Because that's what you've said the last two times now." He said, crossing his arms with a healthy dose of suspicion on his face. "That last fight was pretty bad- y'know it would be pretty unwise of the 'Intelligent Stone Monkey' to be hiding an injury-"

"I said I'm fine!" Wukong snapped, turning around to glare at them with firey red eyes, his fur bristling with anger.

There was a pause, Bajie and Wujing both falling silent as Wukong continued to glare at them-

And then Wukong's hand flew to his mouth, as he turned back around to face the river, his body shaking with muffled coughs. Both Wujing and Bajie rushed to his side, concerned-

Only to freeze as they saw the purple petals slipping through Wukong's fingers, falling into the river and floating downstream. There was a moment of silence, broken only by Wukong's wheezing breaths.

And then they were both kneeling beside him, Wujing rubbing comforting circles on Wukong's back, while Bajie pulled the Monkey King's hand away from his mouth, letting the petals fall freely.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, let them do this, and the three of them quietly watched the petals float away, vanishing as they went around the riverbend.

If Wujing and Bajie noticed the tears running down Wukong's face, they didn't comment on it.

"...I'm sorry." Is what Wujing chose to say, in a soft murmur.

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wukong whispered, for a whisper was all his throat could manage at the time. "I'll be okay."

They all knew he was trying to reassure himself with his words more so than them.

When the three of them returned to their makeshift camp with an apology and a half-baked excuse, Tripitaka barely batted an eye.

Bai Longma, however, stared at a stray petal clinging to Wukong's outfit with a look of knowing.

Miles away, in a cave hidden by shadows, a figure leaned against the cave wall, one hand steadying himself while the other covered the fresh wound to his eye, petals falling out of his mouth as he cursed whoever decided that love could be unrequited.

-

Hanahaki. The disease of unrequited love.

Or, well, as it was known nowadays, the disease of pining.

Originally, when people were first discovering the disease, they thought it to be only born out of feelings that could never be reciprocated.

As it turns out, that simply wasn't the entire truth.

Overall, about 20% of Hanahaki cases reported end up being due to unrequited love.

The other 80% are due to people who simply, for one reason or another, refuse to confess.

As was recently discovered, about a century or so ago, the one true cure for Hanahaki is to look your beloved in the eyes, and say; "I love you."

As you can imagine, not many people have the courage to do that.

Luckily, the disease has never truly been fatal more than it was a slight hindrance. There even exists some medicines and teas that can reduce the effects of the flowers, although using them comes with its own ballpark of side effects.

Anyways, to make a long story short, MK wasn't surprised to end up meeting someone currently suffering from Hanahaki.

He just hadn't been expecting it to have been the Monkey King.

-

It hadn't really been obvious at first. Hanahaki will sometimes wither slightly when distanced from whoever the afflicted person has a crush on, but it never really takes much to send the flowers into full bloom again.

MK didn't actually hand out with Wukong a lot, and even when he did, it was only for training, something Mk restlessly focused on in the hopes of getting better at being, well, the Monkey King's successor.

Which was why, when during one of their rare breaks, Wukong froze in shock when MK actually asked him a question (one that, for once, wasn't about training).

"...Monkey King? Do you have any friends?" MK asked.

"Sure I do!" Wukong lied, "Why do you ask?"

"Ah- well-" MK stuttered, staring down at the ground in front of him as he seemed to ponder how to phrase his next sentence. "You just seemed... lonely, I guess."

"Well, I'm not, since I do, in fact, have friends, so. Yeah." Wukong said, crossing his arms as his tail slowly swung back and forth nervously.

"Are your friends from now or before?" MK asked, tilting his head in curiosity. "Actually, did you even have friends before?"

"...Before?"

"Before the Journey to the West." MK elaborated.

"Psh, of course I did!" Wukong said, "Y'know, I was even friends with Demon Bull King back then- you wouldn't believe some of the stories I have about him..."

MK had, in fact, already known about Wukong and Demon Bull King having been friends. Tang had been more than happy to bring that up, multiple times.

But what MK really wanted to know was-

"Was there anybody else?" He asked.

"Of course there was! For example, M-" Wukong started, but very quickly cut himself off, the light in his eyes dulling slightly. MK winced, sensing that he'd somehow stumbled upon a sensitive subject.

Before he could apologize though, Wukong suddenly tensed, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Uh, I'll be right back, I just need to check on the younger monkeys for a moment, okay?" He said. It was an excuse that was easily seen through, but MK couldn't bring himself to mention it.

-

Similar situations kept happening.

Sometimes it was understandable, like when Wukong would take a second or so to throw a smile back on his face (a smile MK was starting to recognize as fake) whenever MK brought up the subject of the Journey to the West.

Other times, however, it was a little confusing. Like, for example, when after an unspoken kitchen incident, MK had worn a purple jacket to training. (Mei had let him borrow it from her, since his yellow jacket was still in the wash, due to the Kitchen Incident That Shall Not Be Named).

As soon as Wukong had seen the purple jacket, he'd froze, before hastily turning away and running back inside his little house, claiming to have forgotten something.

MK had taken the jacket off and stuffed it into his bag by the time Wukong returned.

-

It was only after the Macaque fight that things became clear.

They'd been silent, watching the sunrise, and MK had started to doze off, leaning on his mentor's shoulder as he slowly started to fall asleep.

...Only to be jostled back into awareness as Wukong's shoulders shook with barely muffled coughs.

"Are you okay?" MK asked, lifting his head off of Wukong's shoulder and staring at the Monkey King with thinly veiled worry. Wukong leaned away from MK's gaze, a hand still covering his mouth.

He was too busy coughing to give a good response.

"If you broke a rib or something and didn't tell me I'm not going to be very impressed." MK deadpanned. Wukong shook his head 'no' in response, hand still over his mouth despite the fact his coughing fit had already died down. "Well, what is it then?"

MK waited as Wukong seemed to internally debate with himself.

And then the Monkey King slowly removed his hand from his mouth, revealing the petals that he had confined within his palm.

"Oh. Oh!" MK said, realization striking him as the dots connected in his mind. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"I know..." Wukong groaned, placing his head in his hands, not caring about how this caused some of the petals to stick to his face and fur. MK giggled a little over how silly his mentor looked, Wukong glaring at him and sticking one of the petals onto his successor's cheek in response. MK made a noise of disgust as he wiped the petal off of his face.

Far away from the two of them, Macaque stumbled back into his dojo, nursing a new injury, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and holding crushed flower petals in his fist.

-

Well. Wukong could officially say that he'd never been in a situation like this before.

Tangled up and dangling from the Spider Queen's spiderweb, Wukong tried to distract himself from the feeling of being trapped, unable to move.... by doing his best to observe his surroundings.

There... sure were a lot of other demons here. He couldn't figure out if it was good or bad that he didn't recognize most of them.

Wait.

Wukong looked around the room again with narrowed eyes.

Could Spider Queen have also taken-

No.

Wukong couldn't see him anywhere, not to mention that the other monkey had always been concerned with his own safety first and foremost. He'd probably scrambled to get out of town at the first sign of trouble. Wukong wasn't going to find Macaque in here.

He wasn't sure why he'd even looked.

...And there was that warm, tickly feeling in the back of his throat again.

Wukong squirmed, trying to ignore the sensation for as long as possible. He even started humming, his go to method for repressing the petals, but it barely worked, and a small dose of panic started to overtake him. He had no way of covering up the petals that would come, his arms and hands pinned at his sides.

He would not let Spider Queen or the rest of her crew find out about this, not to mention....her.

(If the Lady Bone Demon found out about his Hanahaki... well, she already has enough leverage as it is. Wukong isn't about to hand over any more.)

And then there was Demon Bull King. Wukong wasn't entirely sure how his old friend, (ex-friend, he reminded himself), would react, and honestly he wasn't too keen on finding out.

Still though.

The flowers always win in the end.

Wukong did his best to duck his head into his shoulder, and hoped it would be enough as his chest was wracked with coughs.

-

The Demon Bull King was many things, but he was not, in fact, stupid.

He had been quick to notice the growing panic on Wukong's face, (really, the monkey hadn't even tried to hide it, either due to being lost in thought or because he thought nobody was paying close enough attention to notice), and had decided to watch and see what the Monkey King would do next.

He hadn't expected Wukong to turn his head to the side, doing his upmost best to silence his coughing fit.

He'd expected the flower petals even less.

"You, of all people, haven't gathered up the strength to confess?" Demon Bull King asked, startling Wukong right out of his coughing fit. "I did not take you to be a coward."

"I take offense to that." Wukong wheezed, a few more petals falling from his mouth as he spoke. "Besides, I remember you taking forever to confess to Princess Iron Fan-"

"I'm not the one who held my words in long enough for them to take root and bloom." Demon Bull King said, "Who is the object your affections anyways?"

"None of your business." Wukong said, once again squirming within the confines of the webs. Demon Bull King raised an eyebrow, before glancing down at the petals now littering the floor. The flowers typically would hint at who the afflicted had a crush on, but Demon Bull King was too far away to be able to tell what flowers the petals belonged to.

If he were to hazard a guess though...

"The Six Eared Macaque?" He asked, proceeding to find great amusement in how Wukong's fur stood on end, panic flashing on his face. "Ah, so I'm right then-"

"Shut up." Wukong hissed, his eyes flashing red. "Seriously, shut up. You can't tell anyone else about this-"

"Tell someone- I see flowers aren't the only nonsense your mouth spits out." Demon Bull King said. The red glow faded slightly from Wukong's eyes, as his expression shifted to confusion, with a small dash of hope.

"You... aren't going to tell anyone?" Wukong asked.

"And loose the precious blackmail material you have graced me with? Of course not!" Demon Bull King laughed, and Wukong sighed, sensing that somehow this would come back to bite him later.

-

Wukong forced his suitcase shut, trying to ignore the niggling feeling of guilt as MK stared at him, unimpressed. Okay, so maybe 'going on a vacation' wasn't the best excuse to use, but Wukong couldn't afford to waste any time coming up with a better one.

He was ready for MK to be worried about training.

He wasn't ready for Mk to be worried about him.

"...Will you be okay?" MK asked, "I mean, you seem to not want anyone to know about your Hanahaki, but if you're with friends then you'll be surrounded by other people at all times, so-"

"Oh, it'll be fine." Wukong said, waving MK's concerns away. "Besides, if the flowers act up, I'll just rip out my lungs."

"Please do not do that!" MK said, the horrified look on his face making Wukong chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad." He said, "I've done it before."

"That does not make it better!" MK said, looking like he was about to start ranting, and Wukong took that as his cue that it was time to go.

-

MK pushed the exit door open, stumbling a little as he rushed into the alley way.

"Ugh- why did you do-.....that......" He said, voice trailing off as he registered that the alley way was empty.

Well. Seemingly empty.

One quick check with his true sight later, (he wasn't going to be falling for any tricks again), and MK was holding a dumpster over his head, revealing the shadow monkey that had been crouched down, hiding behind it. Macaque glanced up, his scarf covering his mouth and his fur bristling in shock as MK set the dumpster off to the side.

"So much for you having been a great warrior, huh?" MK said, crossing his arms and staring down at Macaque with an unimpressed expression.

"Uh- ah, so you figured that out, did you? Maybe you aren't as dense as you look." Macaque said, voice slightly raspy, as he stood up, trying to pretend he wasn't just hiding behind a dumpster-

Only for his scarf to slip down a little, allowing some golden flower petals to fall out. Macaque made quick work of snatching them out of the air, crushing them in his grip as he hid them behind his back, tail swishing nervously, but it was too late.

MK had seen.

"...Oh. Oh!" MK said, feeling torn between screaming in frustration or laughing in amusement over what had just been revealed to him. "Oh, you have terrible taste."

"...I have no idea what you're talking about." Macaque said, sighing and breathing out a few more golden petals as he did so, completely unaware of how much this revelation had shaken MK's already very delicate mental state. "Seriously. I don't even know where you got the idea that I'm in love with someone or something like that, because I'm definitely not."

"I never said anything about you being in love." MK said, starting to lean more towards being amused at this entire situation as Macaque stiffened, his tail stilling. "I just said you had terrible taste- maybe I was implying your whole 'performance' with the shadow play back in the theatre was simply lackluster."

"I take offense to that." Macaque hissed, his shadow growing slightly bigger as his tail once again started to thrash back and forth, this time in anger. MK ignored this obvious attempt at intimidation for another question that was on his mind, a much more pressing one, in his opinion.

"You still haven't answered my question from earlier, why did you do that?" He asked, watching as Macaque took a minute to process the question, having not expected the sudden subject change.

"....Why did I do what- Oh! Why did I break the lantern, you mean?" Macaque said, suddenly avoiding eye contact, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab hold of the edge of his scarf as he chewed on the corner of his lip, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. "Well, I was going to do the whole 'watch the hero get tormented by their inner demons and insecurities' thing like all the other villains, but you seem to already be doing that to yourself so- yeah. Didn't want to bother using my own expansive list of abilities when I could just lay back and watch the show you were already putting on for me."

"But I thought you wanted to be center stage, not in the audience. Y'know, because you want to steal the spotlight from Monkey King." MK said, raising an eyebrow as Macaque's hand finally grabbed the edge of his scarf, and he started fiddling with it nervously. "Or well, either that or you want to share a stage with him."

Something must have been brought to the forefront of Macaque's mind when MK said that, as suddenly he was turning away, using his scarf to cover his mouth as he coughed. MK remained standing in front of him, arms crossed, waiting patiently for the shadow monkey's response.

"I- I have no intention of shar- sharing a stage." Macaque eventually wheezed, pulling his scarf back down as he spoke so that he could be heard clearly. MK amusedly noted that he could see some golden petals peeking out from within the confines of the red cloth. "Not now, not before, and not ever."

"Ah, sure, keep telling yourself that." Mk said, staring pointedly at the flower petals.

Macaque flicked him on the forehead.

"Ow!" MK said, recoiling, a hand going to his forehead to try and numb the sting, his eyes closing reflexively as he leaned back. "Why would you do that for-"

MK paused, blinking bewilderedly, as he realized Macaque was no longer in front of him, seemingly having vanished entirely, having used MK's momentary distraction to fade away into the shadows, only a single left behind flower petal revealing that he had ever actually been there.

If MK had used his true sight again then and there, he would've found that Macaque was now resting on top of one of the nearby rooftops.

As it was though, his friends burst through into the alley way, prepped with questions he wasn't ready to answer.

(Later, Macaque would severely regret failing to remember to warn MK of the danger that was approaching him. But that would be later, and now he fully intended on sneaking back into the theatre to retrieve his shadow lantern...)

-

Life on the ship honestly wasn't all that bad. Sure, MK had lost all of his powers, and there was the ever looming threat of the Lady Bone Demon, but ignoring all of that important stuff?

Life on the ship was actually rather nice.

"You know what? I think I could actually get used to living like this." MK said, leaning against the railing of the ship, letting the wind rustle his hair. Wukong hummed in agreement, sitting on the railing beside his successor.

"...When all this is said and done, we should take a vacation." He said, "A real vacation. Together this time."

"Can I bring my friends with me?" MK wasn't so sure he could handle leaving the others behind after everything that had happened.

"Sure, go right ahead, if that's what you want." Wukong said, shrugging. MK visibly brightened, and an idea struck him.

"Oh- and you could bring your friends along too, you know, the ones I haven't met yet!" He said, and Wukong stiffened.

"....Uh.... about that..." He started, and MK's smile fell, replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern.

"...You lied about the whole 'having other friends' thing, didn't you." He said, looking his mentor up and down before rolling out another accusation. "You're far lonelier that I thought you were."

"...Immortality isn't all it's cracked up to be, Kid." Wukong said, a sad, half-hearted smile on his face. MK tried to come up with a response, either a joke or maybe some comforting words (how do you even comfort an immortal, who has been through so much and had probably heard everything you could possibly say?)-

Only to be completely distracted as the ship was heavily rocked by something crashing into it. MK's grip tightened around the steel railing, steadying himself as he heard the others rush up to the deck, shouting in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, MK could see Wukong scramble to keep himself from falling over the side of the ship. (Which MK had to admit was... strange. Wukong had his whole cloud sail thing, he could fly, why would he be concerned about falling off?)

The rocking stopped, the ship steadying itself, and MK could smell smoke. Cautiously and slowly, he turned around, mentally preparing himself for the possibility of an attack, brought about by the Lady Bone Demon or one of her 'followers' (demons, that she had entranced to think that they were getting a good deal out of this, when in reality all she was doing was using them, with the full intent to throw them aside once they had served their purpose).

MK expected the broken bits and pieces of another, smaller ship, some parts still burning (and really, they should deal with those fire before they became a bigger problem. Sandy seemed to be running to get the fire extinguisher, so hopefully there wouldn't be any fire induced explosions today).

What he hadn't been expecting (but in hindsight, really should have been), was to see Red Son, standing in the center of the debris, nervously dusting the dirt off of his jacket, with Macaque laying face down on the deck behind him.

-

Red Son was having a very long day. Or, well, it had been about three days, really, but that wasn't the point here.

He brushed the remaining ship debris off of himself, making himself more 'presentable' while also purposefully prolonging the amount of time he could go without meeting the questioning gazes of MK and his friends.

Catching sight of the monkey still laying on the ground behind him, he turned and nudged Macaque with his foot.

"You really aren't making a good impression here." Red Son hissed, under his breath, knowing that the other's exceptional hearing meant that he could easily hear him.

"There truthfully isn't a good impression to be made." Macaque said, voice muffled by both the deck and his scarf, as he continued to lay face down, making no move to get up. "Not to mention, I'm feeling a little... singed, at the moment. Not everyone is as fire proof as you are, you- you hot headed fool."

The shadow monkey had, overall, been a great help in escaping from the Lady Bone Demon's dungeons, but Red Son wasn't past the point of kicking him in the side. Hard.

Macaque yelped in pain, curling up a little as though to shield himself, but continued to not even try to get up.

Red Son was unfortunately stopped from kicking the monkey again as he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with MK and Mei, their expressions completely neutral.

"Ah- Hello, Noodle Boy, Dragon Girl." Red Son said, politely nodding to each of them, trying to ignore his own nervousness (he did not feel like getting thrown off a ship today, thank you very much). MK and Mei said nothing, and Red Son began to wonder for a moment if crashing into their ship twice was somehow crossing a line.

But then both of them smiled, and Red Son braced himself just in time as Mei tackle-hugged him, MK laughing as he watched her do so.

"Wow, you really don't have much luck with vehicles and driving, on the ground or in the air, huh?" MK said, pushing a piece of debris from the miniature ship Red Son had flown in to the side with his foot. "Seriously, it's a wonder you ever managed to pass a driving test with skills like this."

"A driving what?" Red Son asked, immediately regretting it as both MK and Mei fixed him with a look of complete and utter horror.

"Oh heavens." Mei breathed, her grip on Red Son's shoulders growing almost uncomfortably tight. "You entered a race without knowing how to drive."

-

Too loud.

It was far, far too loud.

Still though, it was much better than being trapped down in the Lady Bone Demon's cold, dark, and desolate dungeons.

Or, at least, that is what Macaque thought to himself, even as he subtly pulled his scarf up over his ears, trying and failing miserably to block out the rumble of the engine, the hiss of the fires from the remains of their ship, the hushed whispers from Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy, and the trio's argument about Red Son's apparently non-existent drivers license.

(If he had known Red Son had never really, truly learned how to drive, Macaque wouldn't have let him pilot their escape ship.

...Albeit, Macaque himself wasn't all that much better, having had no idea as to what over half of the buttons in the ship were actually for.

Still though, he would have at least tried to land a perfect landing, instead of going all out on making sure they, quote, 'crashed in style', like what a certain hot tempered demon did.

Seriously Red Son. What the fuck.)

It took a few more minutes of laying there, trying to block everything out, before he realized that, over the roar of the engines and the trio's arguing, he couldn't hear where Wukong was.

...Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Macaque stiffened as a warm hand landed on his shoulder, its grip alternating between being soothing soft and threateningly tight.

"...Macaque?" Wukong's voice asked, and Macaque felt the unfortunately all too familiar twinge in both his chest and throat.

Ah. It was definitely a bad thing then.

-

Wukong pulled his hand back as Macaque abruptly stood up, stumbling away from him and towards the side of the ship. For a moment, Wukong genuinely wondered if Macaque planned to just jump off the ship, despite the fact that they were thousands of miles above ground.

But Macaque simply grabbed hold of the railing, leaning slightly over it, his shoulders shaking.

"What's the matter, are you sea sick already?" Mei asked, noticing Macaque's movement. "Or, wait, would it be air sick? Meh, it's probably the same thing..."

Macaque gave no response other than raising his hand to flip her off, which simply made her cackle like a mad man. Wukong would've walked right on over to him and smacked the shadow monkey for the rude gesture-

That is, if he hadn't been already preoccupied with covering up the petals his concern for the other had caused him to start coughing up.

Unseen by either of them, MK glanced back and forth between the two monkeys, seeing how Wukong tucked the petals into the pocket of his shirt, and spotting a few golden ones fluttering away from Macaque, carried by the wind. MK sighed, ignoring how Mei and Red Son, the two closest to him who had noticed his reaction, looked at him in confusion.

It was going to be a really long trip.

-

Macaque stirred a bowl full of cake mix, deeply lost in his thoughts.

You see, being stuck in a ship, thousands of miles up in the air, surrounded by people, especially MK and the others, was a very stressful situation to be in. And unlike back at his dojo, Macaque didn't exactly have any training dummies to take said stress out on.

So, he naturally defaulted to another, less violent technique.

Stress baking.

Macaque had waited patiently in the shadows until Pigsy had left the kitchen to join the others up on the deck, and then had promptly taken over the entire room.

...He wasn't sure why he decided to make a chocolate cake though. He had really just been going through the motions, using the first thing he saw or what was directly in front of him, not feeling like putting in the effort to really search for anything else.

Well, at least thus far only MK had stumbled upon him like this, and the Monkey King's successor had been easily chased away by a purple glare and a hissed threat.

'...Although...' Macaque thought, stirring slowing down slightly as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway, approaching him. 'Maybe saying that I was poisoning everything in the kitchen wasn't the best choice of threat.'

He very nearly dropped the bowl when Wukong entered the room.

"So." Wukong said, leaping up onto the counter and sitting down, cross-legged. "Poison, huh?"

Well. He might as well go along with it. No use in changing his excuse now.

"Yep." Macaque said, taking the spoon out of the bowl as he gestured at the room. "I'm so one hundred percent done with all of you, so I have decided to poison all of you. Finally get rid of the noise, have a bit of peace, you know?"

As he said this, he made the mistake of putting the spoon within Wukong's reach.

The Monkey King, spurred by nothing but his own impulsivity, leaned forwards and casually licked the edge of the spoon.

Macaque pulled the utensil back at record breaking speeds (he avoided putting it back into the bowl, he knew far better than to do that) and proceeded to stare at Wukong with the most offended expression he could manage.

Wukong completely ignored it.

"Your 'poison' happens to taste an awful lot like chocolate." He said, taking a glance around the kitchen, noting all the ingredients on the kitchen island, before looking Macaque up and down. "...Stress baking?"

"Poison." Macaque corrected, glaring at the other as he got a new spoon to stir with. "I'm making poison."

"...Poison for yourself, maybe." Wukong said, looking thoughtful, "If I remember right, you can't eat chocolate, can you?"

Macaque didn't bother to grace him with a response, instead turning his back to the other monkey, continuing to mix more ingredients into the bowl. It was blessedly silent for a while, but-

With Wukong sitting right behind him, watching his every move, even stress baking wasn't able to help Macaque relax.

Not to mention the flowers in his chest that were once again begging to make themselves known.

Macaque forced the flurry of emotions and petals back down as much as he could. He flicked an ear, listening behind him.

Wukong was still there. Why was he still there-

Macaque slammed the bowl down on the kitchen island, barely avoiding chipping it, and taking brief pleasure in how he could hear the Wukong's breath catch, before the Monkey King descended into a small coughing fit, probably from surprise at the shadow monkey's sudden movements. Macaque turned back around to face Wukong, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" He hissed, his tail swishing back and forth from agitation. Wukong's tail swished too, but Macaque could tell that his was a sign of nervousness.

"Ah, oh nothing." Wukong said, his hands behind his back as his legs swayed back and forth over the counter. "Just making sure you don't actually decide to poison anything."

"If I had poison, you and I both know that I would have used it already." Macaque said, "I don't even think there's anything I could even use as poison on this ship."

"...Point taken." Wukong said, leaning forwards and resting his chin on his right hand.

(He kept his other hand tucked in behind his back. Macaque did pick up on Wukong seemingly acting suspicious, but was far too focused on trying to get the Monkey King out of the kitchen to actually think much of it.

Something that Wukong was extremely grateful for, as it gave him the time to actually hide the crushed flower petals in his palm within one of his pockets.)

"Um, so uh, how do you know if the kid and the others are all okay?" Macaque asked, deciding to try a new tactic of getting Wukong out of the kitchen, hoping that the Monkey King's stupid over-protectiveness would prompt him to leave the room, which would let Macaque finally bake in peace.

"Oh, I left a hair clone with them." Wukong said, and Macaque slumped, his hopes dashed. "...Say, on a different subject, how do you know if it tastes good?"

"Huh?" Macaque asked, befuddled for a moment before remembering the cake bowl on the table behind him. "Oh- the cake? Well, I don't know really, usually I just sell it or something... Not that I really do this often, mind you! This isn't- I don't- I'm- wait. You want to taste test it more, to get free samples, don't you?"

Wukong simply gave a non-commital shrug, but the smirk on his face gave his intentions away. Macaque sighed wearily, before pulling a smaller spoon out of a nearby drawer with his tail, scooping a bit of cake batter into it, and tossing the spoon at Wukong, mentally willing the utensil to hit the Monkey King smack dab on the forehead.

The utensil, unfortunately, did not, in fact, obey Macaque's wills, as Wukong caught it with ease, and started licking the cake batter off of it, his tail wagging happily.

Macaque bit the inside of his cheek, nearly drawing blood as he used the pain to push the flowers in his throat back down, a light blush dusting his cheeks as he realized just how... cute the other looked in the current moment.

...No, nope, absolutely not-

Macaque spun back around, throwing himself entirely into the task of mixing the last of the ingredients together, and doing his upmost best to ignore the monkey sitting behind him.

Wukong's incessant humming was absolutely not helping in any way shape or form.

Things continued on, Macaque making the cake and occasionally tossing a batter covered spoon over his shoulder so that Wukong could taste it.

(Macaque silently told himself that he was doing it in the hopes that Wukong would become satisfied and leave, already-

But, deep down, he knew it was just because he liked seeing the other monkey happy.)

Macaque dumped the cake batter into a pan, setting the now empty mixing bowl off to the side before shoving the pan into the oven, and setting a small timer.

When he looked back over to where he had placed the mixing bowl, fully intent on washing it and proceeding to use it to make some icing, the bowl was gone.

"What the-" He started, looking around bewildered, before realizing what must have happened.

Sure enough, Wukong had the bowl on his lap, and was using a spoon to scrape the remaining cake batter out of it, to eat.

"...It's not like you were gonna use it anymore... right?" Wukong asked, almost looking sheepish as he realized Macaque was staring at him, and he curled around the bowl protectively.

Macaque glared at him, using his magic to make his eyes flash purple and make the room grow slightly darker.

"Get out of my kitchen before I retract my truce card and cash in on punching you in the face." He threatened.

Although the threat didn't hold much weight (Macaque would probably end up breaking his hand punching Wukong before he could ever hope to actually injure the other) Wukong still scrambled to get out of the room, taking the bowl and spoon with him as he went.

As Wukong rushed pass Macaque in his haste to leave, their tails lightly brushed together.

And that was the last straw for Macaque, who, once he was sure the other was gone, hurried to turn on the sink to cover up the sound of his coughing.

'..........Stupid monkey....' Macaque thought, leaning over the sink and watching flour and flowers go down the drain.

-

MK found Wukong in the hallway, with petals falling out of both the Monkey King's pocket and his mouth. He seemed to be spacing out, lost within his own thoughts.

He was still carrying the mixing bowl.

"...So I take it you didn't confess to Macaque?" MK asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"What- no- why on Earth would I confess?" Wukong asked, snapping out of his reverie. MK merely shrugged in response, but mentally he cursed.

'I was so sure that baking together would settle this whole mess once and for all.' He thought, watching as Wukong balance his bowl in one hand and softly rubbed a spot on his tail with the other. 'I guess it's back to the drawing board...

....Maybe the others would have some ideas?'

-

"How to get someone with Hanahaki to confess?" Tang asked, setting his book to the side. "MK, you know that's not really a thing you can force, I mean, look at how long it took Pigsy and I-"

"I know, I know, the both of you have told me about your confession, and how long it took to get there, multiple times." MK said, rolling his eyes. "But like, this is worse than you guys, which honestly, before now I didn't think it was possible, but. This has been going on for centuries."

"...I feel like there's a majorly important piece of information I'm missing here." Tang said, leaning forwards with renewed interest. "Who, exactly, has Hanahaki?"

MK paused, debating for a moment on whether or not he should actually tell him.

But, well, it was kind of obvious, and he seriously needed help getting the two of them together, so-

"Monkey King and Macaque." MK said, before adding, for clarification; "Both of them have it. For each other."

"Oh. Oh, that makes so much sense." Tang said, sounding as though pieces of a centuries old puzzle had magically connected right before his eyes. "...I'm sorry though, I can't help you."

"...Oh. Okay, I'll just ask someone else then-"

"However. I am not opposed to starting a betting pool."

-

"Hanahaki? Why would I know anything about Hanahaki?" Red Son asked, sounding oddly nervous as MK stood in the door way to his room. "...Why are you even asking me about it anyways?"

"Because Monkey King and Macaque have been pining for centuries, even back during the Journey to the West if the stories from Mei's great grandfather are to be believed, and while I've only been witness to a small portion of it, and I guess it's kinda been amusing, I am so done with it, like-" MK waved his hands around in frustration. "Why won't they just confess already?!"

"...I'm....sure they have their reasons." Red Son said, "What... did Mei say, about this, exactly?"

"Oh, she just laughed when I told her about it, and then cemented her place in the betting pool." MK said.

"There's a betting- Noodle Boy, why didn't you start with the betting pool?!"

-

Red Son had, in fact, already known about Macaque's Hanahaki.

That kind of thing was a little hard to miss when you're locked up in a cell with someone for an extended period of time.

Finding out Wukong also had Hanahaki came as a little bit of a surprise (though, really, now that he knew about it, it was kind of obvious, but as they say, 20/20 hindsight-).

Outside of making bets though, Red Son was mostly content to just sit back and watch the two monkeys stumble around each other. Sure, he did think their inability to confess made them cowards, but.

At least MK was too wrapped up in his frustration over the monkeys drama to notice the fire demon coughing up smoke and petals behind him.

-

Wukong slowly sneaked into the room, as quietly as he possibly could. Staying low to the ground, he tip toed over to the shelf, cautiously reaching up-

Only for someone to grab a hold of his hand, stopping him from reaching his prize. A nearby lamp flicked on, and Wukong looked up to see Sandy intently staring down at him.

"...Hi." Wukong said, laughing nervously as he slipped his hand out of Sandy's grip. "Um. I totally wasn't sneaking around or anything, I was just... sleep walking?"

"...I see." Sandy said, reaching over and taking one of the tea tins off of the shelf. "In that case, this one right here will do wonders to improve your sleep-"

"Ah, oh, no thank you, it's fine, I can handle it." Wukong said, subtly scanning the shelf of teas, slumping slightly when he couldn't seem to find the one that he wanted. Upon seeing the monkey's dejected face, Sandy sighed.

"Is this what you were looking for?" He asked, pulling a tin of tea out from behind his back. Wukong looked at it in shock.

"How'd you-" He started.

"It was just a lucky guess." Sandy said, setting the tin in Wukong's waiting hands. "Use it sparingly though, I'm running a little low on supplies right now. Oh, and be careful with the side effects, okay? Stop taking it if anything seriously bad starts to happen."

"...Thank you." Wukong said, pocketing the tea tin and turning to leave Sandy's room.

"Oh, one more thing." Sandy said, causing Wukong to pause mid-step. "The next time you try sneaking around in the dark, use a stronger glamour over your eyes. The glow seriously gives you away."

"...Duly noted."

-

It smelled like smoke.

That was the first thing Macaque noticed as he stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the storage room. Immediately, he tensed up, his fur standing on end. After all, where there was smoke, there was usually fire as well. And although Macaque would never, never admit it... he wasn't exactly the most... fond of fire.

(A capture hero, trapped and unaware.

A burning mountain, the air choked by smoke.

And an abandoned warrior, trying desperately to escape the mountain's flames.)

But... Macaque couldn't hear any of the noises that usually accompanied something burning. Instead all he could hear was someone's slightly irregular heart beat, and their wheezing breaths.

Macaque forced himself to walk forwards, curiosity starting to over power his caution.

He rounded the shelf of boxes just in time to see Red Son cough out more smoke, along with a few burnt petals.

Macaque paused, knowing the other had yet to actually see him, as he pondered what to do next. His hands twitched towards the edge of his scarf, but he kept himself frozen.

On the one hand, he could just turn around and leave before Red Son could even notice him. As was said before, Macaque was truly not very fond of fire, and despite having spent at least two days trapped with the fire demon, Macaque hadn't really gotten over his general...wariness of him.

On the other hand though, now that he'd seen the other demon, Macaque's curiosity was peaked.

...Well, they say curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so-

"Who's it for?" Macaque asked, chuckling a little to himself as Red Son startled, finally noticing the other's presence.

"What?" He asked, looking at the shadow monkey in shock and confusion.

"Your Hanahaki." Macaque elaborated, "Who is it for, Mei or MK?"

Red Son remained silent for another moment, blinking in confusion, before the question, along with what was currently happening, seemed to register within his brain, and a furious blush over took his face, a few sparks flying off of him.

(At the sight of said sparks, Macaque took a hesitant step back, glancing around for anything that was possibly flammable.

Red Son was far too wrapped up within his own emotions to notice the monkey's anxiety.)

He sputtered for a moment, struggling and failing to come up with a proper response.

"...Both. It's, It's both of them." He eventually muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with Macaque as he shyly rubbed his arm.

"What was that? Sorry, I didn't hear you the first time, could you say that again?" Macaque said, not at all surprised by this new development and instantly deciding that now was the perfect opportunity to mess with the fire demon.

"You damn well did hear me and we both know it." Red Son said, shifting from flustered to angry in the blink of an eye.

...Macaque outright laughed at hm.

"Oh, oh, like you're one to laugh." Red Son said, "I know all about your thing for Monkey King. You're in the same boat as I am, both literally and figuratively."

"...Okay, first of all, we are in an airship, not a boat." Macaque said, leaning 'casually' against a wall of supply boxes. "Secondly- I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

"Why haven't you confessed yet?" Red Son said, moving on with his line of thinking and completely ignoring the shadow monkey's denial.

"Conf- I, I could ask you the exact same question!" Macaque said, caught off guard before pulling himself together and recovering. "Why haven't you confessed?"

"I, am simply waiting for the right time. I'm planning a big romantic gesture, I'll have you know." Red Son said, "You, on the other hand, are simply being a pining idiot."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Macaque denied yet again, a slight growl making it's way into his voice as his eyes flashed purple.

Red Son wasn't impressed.

"Your pitiful attempts at denial and intimidation have little to no effect on me." He said, "Seriously, just admit that you're in love with Monkey King already. Pretty much everyone else already knows about it."

"...I won't say I'm in love."

"Do not start the random musical numbers again, you already did it far too many times when we were trapped together in that cell, and if I have to bear one more minute of it I will not hesitate to toss you overboard."

-

The tea was bitter.

Very bitter.

Still though, it tasted leagues better than weed killer, which had been a not very well though through experience that Wukong never ever wanted to repeat.

And the tea worked better too, repressing, the flowers better than humming or the previously stated weed killer ever could.

Still though, there was a reason as to why Wukong had never opted to try this method before.

Said reason, of course, being the side effects.

He sighed, staring at how there were now purple flecks within his red eyes. Nothing that his usual glamours couldn't cover, but his magic was dwindling fast. He would have to start cutting a few corners soon if he didn't want to end up completely and utterly powerless, and the glamours concealing his height and eye colour would probably end up having to be the first ones to go.

Other than that though, it was concerning that the eye colour change was happening so soon, not to mention the speed at which it was progressing. A change in eye colour was the most common starting side effect of repressing Hanahaki, after that... things start to tend to become strange and rather unpredictable. The list of side effects caused by repressing Hanahaki was miles long, and was always having new things added to it- the reaction seemed to always depend on the person.

Basically, Wukong had literally no idea of what the side effect would be for him, nor how he could prepare for them.

And, of course, this meant he wouldn't be able to know how to hide them either.

-

When Wukong woke up the next morning and found that his eyes had already turned fully purple, a faint sense of unease settled itself over him like how a morning mist settles in a forest. He supposed he should've expected this to happen quick, he was repressing thousands of years of pining after all, but still, he hadn't been expecting it to progress this fast....

He felt fine though, nothing different than usual. (He did feel a bit weaker, but that had already been happening before the tea. No, that was something else.) For a moment he wondered if his immortality had made him completely immune to any possible side effects, but immediately shot that idea down, as if that had been the case, his eyes wouldn't have changed colour at all.

Wukong exited his room, throwing his usual glamours back on just in case, and made his way to the ship's kitchen as quietly as possible, he'd awoken a bit earlier than usual this morning, and didn't want to accidentally wake any of the others up.

Warming up the kettle and taking the tea tin out of the pocket (he sadly noted that it was almost empty already), he carefully followed the instructions on the side of the tin, not wanting to mess anything up and risk the tea not working.

A few minutes later, and Wukong sat at the kitchen table, spacing out a little as he slowly sipped his Hanahaki Repressing Tea.

He was starting to almost fall asleep in his chair when Pigsy entered the kitchen.

"Morning." Pigsy greeted, looking Wukong up and down with a mix of worry and suspicion. "You're not usually up this early, is something wrong?"

'No, I'm fine, perfectly fine.' Was what Wukong wanted to say.

Instead though, no sound left his mouth at all.

Oh.

Oh shit.

-

It wasn't every day that someone say Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, speechless.

Today, however, seemed to be one of the days where he was.

Pigsy watched as Wukong's mouth clicked shut, panic briefly flashing across his face before being replaced with an easily recognizable nervous smile as the monkey drew his tea cup closer to himself, as though to hide it. Pigsy rolled his eyes, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from Wukong, immediately noticing how the monkey avoided eye contact entirely.

"Experiencing the side effects, huh?" Pigsy asked, "Don't give me that surprised look. Even if Sandy hadn't told me about you taking the tea, you're being rather obvious right now."

Wukong visibly winced at that, sipping his tea again.

"How exactly do you plan to get through the day without being able to talk huh?" Pigsy asked, leaning forwards slightly. "Surely you must have some plan prepared."

Wukong started to shake his head no, to show that he didn't, in fact, have any plan here, but then he paused, looking thoughtful.

A sudden pang ran through Pigsy's mind, and he gripped the sides of his head, looking down at the table as he winced, trying to collect himself, feeling as though he'd been set off balance.

"-an you hear me?" Wukong's voice was faint and echoey, before growing stronger. "Can you hear me? Hello-"

"Yes I can fucking hear you." Pigsy said, looking back up, and proceeding to be almost shocked (but at the same time really not) to find that there were now two Wukong's sitting across from him. The new Wukong was obviously Wukong's golden astral projection form, as it perfectly matched how MK had described it.

Or well, it almost matched perfectly...

"Oh, good." Wukong said, via astral connection, "I wasn't sure this would work, but since it does I can just talk to the others like this-"

"Does this form of yours normally look like.... well, that?" Pigsy asked, interrupting.

"...What?" Wukong took a moment to analyze his astral form.

Unlike MK's description of it being 'Monkey King but in gold, like a shiny pokemon', Wukong currently had three tails, one pink, one red, and one purple. Said colours were also splashed all over his astral body, almost giving him a sunset-like appearance.

"...Huh. That's new." Wukong said, "I guess the side effects go deeper than I thought."

"Is this something we should be more concerned about?" Pigsy asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Oh, no, it's fine. At least, it's far better compared to everything else. Maybe. Probably." Wukong said, the nervous smile on both his real self and his astral self growing slightly bigger.

"...Everything else? Probably?" Pigsy questioned, sitting up straighter with worry.

"...Ah, you weren't meant to hear that part." Wukong said, wincing. "Which I suppose that means it's time for me to go-"

"Hey, wait-" Pigsy started, but didn't manage to get any words out as Wukong abruptly closed the astral connection, before standing up and leaving the room faster than the other could ever hope to follow. Pigsy sighed as he caught the barest glimpse of Wukong's tail going out the door.

That damn monkey was definitely going to need a serious intervention one of these days.

-

"Monkey King this is an intervention." MK said, crossing his arms as he tried to do his best impersonation of one of Tang's infamous glares. He assumed he failed miserably, given Mei's muffled snickering, but Wukong at least shrunk down sheepishly, so he must've been doing something right.

MK sighed as a pang ran through his head, having expected it- before blinking in shock at the astral image that now stood before him.

"Why do I need an intervention? I'm perfectly fine." Wukong said, both his real self and his astral self smiling nervously- and the three other astral copies of him mimicked the motion. One was pink, one was purple, and one was red. They were each surrounded by a faint golden glow, and were each connected to the main golden astral version of Wukong by their tails.

"You- you are definitely not fine!" MK shouted, still having not recovered from the shock, and wasn't given any more time to try and process what he was seeing as the three bonus Wukong's started speaking.

"Shit." The red one hissed, frustration in his voice. "Fuck." (MK blinks, shocked to hear any version of his mentor swear, and immediately decides to smack Wukong on the arm the next time his mentor tries to reprimand him for swearing.)

"At least he's learning how to read people better, now he won't get tricked as easily." The pink one said, sounding almost....proud?

"I won't be able to trick him anymore either- He's catching on. He's starting to catch on now-" The purple one said, panicked. "I need to lie, lie lie lie-"

"Once again, I don't know what you're talking about." The golden, normal Wukong insisted, seemingly ignorant to the existence of the others.

MK had, of course, set up this intervention to talk about how Wukong tended to repress his emotions, (specifically those concerning a certain shadow monkey), but he definitely hadn't been prepared for... whatever all this is.

"Are you fucking seeing this?" He asked Mei.

"I'm not seeing shit." Mei said, wrapping her arm around MK's shoulder and lightly knocking their heads together, as though doing so would transfer the images that MK was seeing into her own brain.

"Language." All four astral Wukong's said, in perfect unison, and MK reached over and smacked the real Wukong on the arm for his hypocrisy.

The hastily put together intervention steadily went downhill from that point forwards, Mei complaining about not having been let in to the Astral Connection, and Wukong closing said connection the instant that MK had revealed the existence of the astral copies to him. The Monkey King had left the room rather swiftly after that, and MK sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time since he'd found out about his mentor's Hanahaki.

He would have to do a much better, and much more well put together intervention next time.

-

Wukong ended up running out of tea the next day.

On the one hand, this was a good thing, as it meant he would only have to wait a day or so for the side effects to finally wear off, and he could go back to actually speaking again.

But on the other hand, this meant that he'd be back to coughing up flowers again, much, much sooner than he would like.

Wukong sighed, leaning against the railing of the ship, watching the sunset. He could probably jump off the ship and find the materials needed to make the tea himself, but without his cloud sail, it would certainly cost him precious time.

Time that he currently absolutely could not waste.

So he resigned himself to what would have to happen, and tried to mentally prepare himself for the flowers that would return within the next twenty four hours.

.....For some reason, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched....

-

In his many years of having known Wukong, Macaque had never seen him be quiet.

But he sure was quiet now, leaning against the ship railing, peacefully watching the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

(The fading colours of the sun reflected perfectly off of Wukong's fur, covering the other in golds, red, purples, and pinks, and overall making him look really pre-

No, nope, Macaque absolutely could not think about that right now, if he started coughing up flowers here and now it was sure to be noticed, and he absolutely couldn't have that happen.)

Macaque really wanted to consider the silence a blessing, finally, a break from the seemingly endless amount of chitter-chatter-

But instead, he couldn't help but feel worried.

Sliding back down to hide behind the crate he'd been sitting on before Wukong had come out onto the deck twenty minutes ago, Macaque lightly chewed on the edge of his scarf, thinking.

Option one: he waltzes over there, throws on a Perfect Smile, and asks Wukong what's wrong. Maybe he could even throw in a jab or two, or say it sarcastically in order to hide his very real concern.

Option two: he sneaks past Wukong, reenters the ship, and hides out inside of his room until he feels confident enough that these stupid emotions have passed.

Macaque was just deciding on option two- when the shadows surrounding him shifted.

Glancing up, he found that Wukong was now holding the crate the shadow monkey had been hiding behind over his head, and was staring down at him, unimpressed.

"...Hi?" Macaque said, letting the edge of his scarf fall out of his mouth and glamouring away any sign that he'd been chewing on it in the first place. "Um. Fancy meeting you here?"

If possible, Wukong's unimpressed look deepened.

"I was- I was here first, I'll have you know." Macaque said, hurriedly standing up, brushing non-existent dirt off of his clothes. "I don't really appreciate you encroaching on my personal space."

Wukong's expression did not waver, but he did set the crate down to the side, so at least Macaque no longer had to worry about having it be thrown at him. Still though, Wukong continued to stare, so maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"So uh, what's with the whole silent act, huh?" Macaque asked, trying his best to be nonchalant about it. He hoped the response would be something meaningless, like a silly little bet or something along those lines.

He didn't expect to receive no verbal response at all, with Wukong's expression shifting away from unimpressed to something Macaque immediately identified as nervous.

Which....probably meant that this really was something to be concerned about.

Which probably also meant that asking any more about it would eventually result in some kind of long, emotional talk, which absolutely was not Macaque's forte.

...Well, he'd been planning to go with option number two from the beginning, so-

"Welp, this was a nice talk." Macaque said, "But, unfortunately, I have some other stuff that need to be tended to so.... bye!"

And with that, Macaque awkwardly flashed a peace sign, before falling down into the shadows, reappearing within the comforts of his own room. Deciding that he'd definitely had enough for one day, he crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying his best to banish any thoughts of Wukong from his mind as he fell asleep.

-

He'd tried to sleep.

Really, he'd tried.

But after his third petal coughing fit of the night (courtesy of his brain refusing to forget how beautiful Wukong looked in the light of the sunset), Macaque gave up.

Which was why he was currently sitting on the couch, staring at the shadows on the wall, letting his mind play tricks on himself, making it seem like the darkness was moving.

He startled when he heard the sound of someone walking down the hallway.

Macaque wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been up for, but something told him that it was still far too early for even the early-risers to be up and about.

It was at the exact moment that someone sluggishly entered the room that Macaque remembered his glamours were down, and he tensed, knowing it was far too late and that he was far too tired to throw them on now.

He relaxed ever so slightly once he realized that the one who had entered the room had seen him glamourless multiple times before.

...Still though. What was Wukong doing up so late?

"...Got nightmares? I hope they're all about me." Macaque said, almost instantly cringing at the words coming out of his mouth, wanting to take them back and shove them into whatever sleep deprived corner of his mind they had come from.

Funnily enough though, Wukong didn't react at all, there wasn't even a small twitch of the ear or tilt of the head to even indicate that the other had even heard him.

There was a beat of silence, and Macaque chewed on the edge of his scarf, distracting himself from the awkwardness of it all by focusing on the sounds of the ship at night.

The beeping of the autopilot, the whir of the engines, the quiet sleeping sounds of the others, Wukong's steady, slow heart beat...

His.... slow heart beat...

"Oh" Macaque breathed, his voice partially muffled as he still had part of his scarf in his mouth. "You're sleep walking."

A contradictory mixture of concern and relief flooded through him at this realization. For a moment he just sat there, watching as Wukong continued to sluggishly make his way around the room.

And then Wukong bumped into the edge of the coffee table, and Macaque got up in record time, ready to catch the other if he fell-

Only to pull himself back as Wukong righted himself, still fast asleep. Macaque sighed, sitting back down on the couch. Why had he even been worried? There was literally nothing to worry about here, Wukong was literally invulnerable, he'd be fine. This was fine.

He rescinded that thought when Wukong suddenly turned, slowly but surely making his way towards Macaque. The shadow monkey watched the other's approach warily, stiffening when Wukog clumsily crawled onto the couch beside him.

Macaque stayed as still as possible, practically frozen, and partially hoping Wukong would get back up and sleep walk his way back to his own bed.

That, of course, didn't happen, and Macaque barely bit back a gasp, the edge of his scarf falling from his mouth to rest on his lap, as Wukong's tail found and curled around Macaque's own.

'Okay.' Macaque thought, feeling the flowers surge within his chest, as well as a faint tingling sensation covering most of his body (it had been a while, since he'd had any positive affection). 'Okay. I can handle this.'

And then Wukong leaned against him, his head resting on Macaque's shoulder.

'I can not handle this.'

-

When Wukong woke up in the early morning, the first thing he noticed was that he was not, in fact, in his bedroom.

'Ah. I slept walked again.' He thought, wincing, slowly pushing himself up. '...At least I didn't collapse in the middle of the hallway or inside of MK's room this time...'

The second thing he noticed was fabric sliding off of him, landing in a pool on the floor.

Leaning over and picking it up, he instantly identified it as Macaque's scarf.

He'd. Been sleeping while curled around Macaque's scarf.....

Almost immediately, he started coughing, purple petals falling from his mouth.

'Well. There goes the last effects of the tea.'

(When Macaque opened his door later on in the after noon, he would find his scarf sitting on the floor in front of him, perfectly folded.

He would find a singular purple petal within it upon unfolding it, but immediately dismiss it as being unimportant.)

-

"Why is it a forest, why did the engine need to malfunction and land us in a forest." Macaque complained, laying in the shadow of a tree, staring up into the branches as though the tree would give him an answer.

"Hey, it's better than a mountain." Wukong said, setting down a glass of lemonade beside the other monkey, before turning to hand another one off to Tang. (Pigsy had, for reasons unknown, made Wukong act as his waiter for the day. Nobody was quite sure why, and from the way Wukong glared whenever the subject was brought up, they figured it was best not to ask). "Can you hear how MK and the others are doing though, they've been gone for a while..."

"Why don't you just use your cloud to go check on them?" Macaque groaned, but still did what had been asked of him, tilting his head to the side, listening intently. After a moment, he was able to pin point the trio's voices. As for what they were saying....

Macaque smirked.

"They're fine." He said, "Although, they might be another few minutes before they come back."

When the trio came out of the forest wearing flower crowns, Macaque mentally cheered.

(After somebody with Hanahaki confesses, the flowers need somewhere to go. Usually they simply pop out of the ground around the person who has confessed.

It was a popular tradition to make and wear flower crowns using said flowers if your love was reciprocated.)

"Oh, did Red Son finally confess?" Tang asked, "We've been waiting on that for like. Ever."

"Oh heavens- Was I the only one who didn't know?" MK said, hiding his face in his hands.

"Oh no, I don't think Monkey King here knew either." Sandy said, lightly patting Wukong on the head. Wukong had been adorned with a look of utter shock since the trio had returned, but now he finally broke out of his surprise, and before the trio could even think to move, Wukong had grabbed hold of them, lifting them up a little in an excited hug.

"Oh my gosh- I'm so happy for you!" He said, only putting them down as Red Son started struggling. "We've- we've gotta throw a party- Pigsy can we throw a party-"

Macaque rolled his eyes, blocking out the current party planning, going back to staring at the sky through the tree branches.

"...Macaque."

Macaque looked over to see Red Son standing beside him.

"...Yes?" Macaque asked.

"...I'm braver than you are."

"What the fuck does that mean-"

-

Of course, Wukong had ended up deciding that they couldn't have the party on the ship. For some reason or another, he was utterly convinced that this party had to be big, which, of course, meant that there had to be a large space to hold it in.

...Had the situation been different, he would've brought everyone to Flower Fruit Mountain.

As it was, he found the next best thing.

"How the fuck did you know about my family hide out?" Red Son asked, watched as Wukong knocked three times on the door.

"You forget I was friends with your father, Red Boy." Wukong said, sending Red Son a smirk. "Oh, and watch your language."

The rest of the group stood slightly behind them, some of them prepared to run away if, somehow, this went awry.

Luckily enough, they didn't have to worry. Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan took the fact that Red Son was now dating his former enemies surprisingly well, and were fully willing to let them use the base to hold a party.

Wukong, surprisingly enough, ended up being the one to regret the decision to come here, the realization that maybe he had made a mistake hitting when Demon Bull King grabbed him by the back of his scarf, lifting him into the air. Wukong went slack immediately, knowing that struggling would be futile.

"The rest of you can keep sorting things out." Demon Bull King said, "I would like to have a few.... words with the simian."

And with that he turned, walking out of the room and bringing Wukong with him.

-

Demon Bull King entered a smaller room, reaching and closing the door behind him as he did so. Unceremoniously, he let go of Wukong's scarf and let the monkey drop down to the floor. Wukong let out an 'oof' as he hit the solid concrete.

"Ow." He hissed, glaring up at Demon Bull King. "Ya could have been a little more gentle there, Bull King."

"You can handle it." Demon Bull King said, "Now, onto the real matter of business. You haven't confessed yet, have you."

"What? Oh, is that what this is all about- I mean, I have no idea what you're talking about." Wukong said, laughing nervously. Demon Bull King stared down at him, unimpressed.

"So I'm right, you really still haven't confessed." Demon Bull King sighed, "Really, I expected better from you. Oh well, I suppose it is a good thing that my son is braver than you, not that that's very hard."

"Ouch." Wukong said, slightly jokingly. "You...really aren't pulling back your punches today huh."

"You trapped me under a mountain. I can be permitted to throw a few heavy hits." Demon Bull King said, "As it is though, if you do not confess sooner rather than later, you may miss your chance."

"Huh?"

"Do not make me out to be a fool, Sun Wukong. I can see the way your body grows weaker." Demon Bull King stared pointedly at a scrape Wukong had gotten on his hand when he'd been dropped onto the floor. Wukong, following the other's gaze, hid it behind his back. "You can't hide it from me. A month ago that fall would've been nothing to you. The Lady Bone Demon has affected you more than you're letting on."

"...So what if she has?" Wukong asked, "It's fine, it doesn't really mean anything, my powers will come back to their full strength sooner or later, you know."

"When I carried you, you weighed a little heavier than you used to."

"Hey now, don't go making comments about my weight!" Wukong said, letting the glamour on his eyes drop so that he could give Demon Bull King the red-eyed glare. "Seriously, I don't know what you think you've figured out, but just, drop it, okay?"

"...If that is what you wish." Demon Bull King sighed, opening the door and standing slightly to the side in order to let Wukong through first. "Promise me one thing though, for the sake of our old friendship."

"...Of course."

"Please confess before the time runs out."

"I'll... I'll try."

-

The party had been great.

In fact, the party had been spectacular.

Which was why, of course, that merely a week after the party, their luck seemingly ran out.

One of the Lady Bone Demon's 'followers' attacked the group during a supply run. Somehow, someway, Wukong and Macaque had managed to draw it away from the others, giving the rest of the group ample time to get the ship loaded and get everyone to a safe place.

Now all the two monkeys had to do was find a way for themselves to escape.

Macaque ducked under a wave of magic, glancing over at Wukong, hoping that the other would have some kind of plan.

He could immediately tell from the look on the other's face that he did not, in fact, have any sort of plan.

Macaque kept dodging as he watched Wukong impulsively take the offensive, sliding under a wave of magic, running up and jumping to kick the demon in the face- Only for the demon to catch him by the foot, spinning him around and tossing him. Wukong's back slammed against the mountain they'd ended up fighting beside, and he fell onto one knee for a moment.

And then he slowly stood back up, his fur messed up. He used his sleeve to wipe some blood away from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning red and oh-

Oh, that was kinda hot-

Macaque immediately cursed letting himself get distracted, as the flowers grew in his chest, and he stumbled, wheezing as a few golden petals fell out of his mouth.

A wave of magic hit him from behind, knocking him to the ground and sending him skidding over to where Wukong now stood.

"Shit- are you okay?" Wukong asked, keeping one eye on the demon, who simply watched them in slight amusement, as he helped the shadow monkey back to his feet. Macaque glanced between the demon and Wukong, feeling the flowers in both his throat and his mouth.

Fuck, he wouldn't be able to win this fight if he stayed like this, in this state.

...Which only left him one option.

Taking only the barest of seconds to prepare himself, Macaque grabbed a hold of both side of Wukong's face, ignoring the monkey's confused squeak as he made sure their eyes met.

"I love you." Macaque said, a single petal falling out of his mouth.

"...I love you too?" Wukong said, confusion and shock filling his face.

"Wait, what?" Macaque asked, but was given no time to question it as the demon seemingly had enough of waiting, and threw a whip of magic at them, the two monkeys having to separate from each other and leap to different sides in order to avoid the attack. As the dust from the attack settled, Macaque locked eyes with Wukong again, the Monkey King's face coloured with a blush, looking shocked, and Macaque was sure the expression was reflected on his own face.

"You love me too?!" He asked, sliding to the side, to avoid another attack.

"Yes!" Wukong shouted, backflipping out of the way of a burst of flame.

"Then why did you say it as a question?!" Macaque asked, slowly making his way back over to the other monkey while avoiding the demon's attempts to hit him at the same time.

"I don't know, why did you confess in the middle of a fight!?" Wukong asked, mirroring the other monkey's movements.

"It seemed like the best option!" Macaque said, leaping over top of another magic whip, spinning around and finding himself back to back with Wukong. "I- I didn't really think it through."

"And people say that I'm the impulsive one." Wukong muttered, deflecting a beam of magic away from them with his wrist.

"I heard that." Macaque hissed, turning ever so slightly to glare at him.

"I know." Wukong said- before turning and knocking Macaque to the ground, just in time for a blade to go sailing over top of them. "When did he get a scythe?!"

"How should I know?!" Macaque asked- before his ear twitched, and he grabbed Wukong's shoulders, rolling the both of over to the right, swapping their positions as the ground where they had previously been suddenly broke apart, a spike rising out of it. Both of them stared at it in shock, before glancing back at each other.

"Well, there's one thing that I think we both know." Wukong said, as Macaque stood up, pulling Wukong to his feet along with him. They both turned to glare at the demon. "And it's that we're starting to get real sick of this guy."

"...You know, I hear that there's a solar eclipse coming up." Macaque said, and Wukong immediately smirked.

The demon sent another blast of magic, and, still holding hands, the two of them stepped to the side, Macaque even taking things one step further, twirling Wukong as they dodged the blast, before pulling away, giving the Monkey King a small bow before falling down into the shadows. Wukong, smirk still wide on his face, turned to face the demon with a determined look.

Running forwards, swiftly moving left and right to stay out of the way of the demon's attacks, Wukong got himself right up in the demon's face. Jumping, he flipped backwards, hitting the demon in the chin with his foot as he did so, before landing on his feet slightly further back than he'd been before.

The demon rubbed his chin, eyes blazing with anger, and Wukong laughed.

"C'mon, is this the best you can throw at me?" He taunted, practically dancing out of the way of the spikes that shot out of the ground at him. "Surely you can do better than this!"

The demon growled, not seeing the trap for what it was, summoning his scythe and charging forwards. Wukong stayed where he was, smirk still firm in place on his face.

When the blade was almost close enough for Wukong to taste the tang of the metal, the shadows in front of him shifted.

Macaque shot up from the shadows, with a spear made out of the darkness, easily blocking the demon's attack, his eyes glowing purple as he stepped forwards, shadows still trailing and swirling around his feet as he forced the demon to take a step back.

The demon grit his teeth, so focused in trying to keep Macaque advancing any further- that he failed to notice as Wukong slid beside him, his eyes glowing red as he took power away from his glamours and channeled it into making sure this punch was the last one.

The strike hit, and Macaque stepped back, his fur rustled by the wind as the demon was sent flying past him, slamming into the mountain, hard.

The two monkeys stood there for a moment, panting, staring at the demon's prone form.

A minute passed, and that was all it took for the two of them to confirm that the demon was not going to be getting back up.

A sigh of relief left the two of them, Wukong falling down to sit on the ground, while Macaque slumped, leaning against his spear as the two of them took a moment to finally relax.

Only to jump as a field of yellow chrysanthemums and purple, flowering wisterias appeared around them.

The two of them stared around themselves in shock for a moment, Macaque dispelling his spear as he sank down to the ground beside Wukong. A breeze flew by, knocking loose a few petals, mixing yellow and purple together.

"...You know, I can't decide if these flowers are hilariously late or perfectly on time." Macaque said, and Wukong laughed.

"Say, who do you think has more flowers for them?" He asked, and the both of them took a second to think about it, looking out over the field. Wukong abruptly stood up. "Why don't we make some clones to help and find out?"

Macaque laughed, standing up and summoning his own shadow clones as Wukong blew on a few of his hairs, and they went to work, counting flowers.

...In the end, they ended up giving up after the third recount also ended up in a tie.

-

When the two of them finally returned to the ship, adorn in matching flower crowns, MK took one look at them, a brief expression of shock flickering on his face, before he fell backwards onto the couch, a strangled laugh escaping him.

"Fucking finally!"

#Monkie Kid #shadowpeach #fanfic #my writing #non fatal hanahaki au #this took forever

[shoutogepi]

Spring Pollen

Takami Keigo

word count : 5.0k

[ ✘ (nsfw 18+) ]  

genre : edging, gagging (glove use), sex pollen, public sex

bio: You and your coworker Hawks are caught off guard by a villain’s naughty quirk while on the middle of patrol.

author’s note : this is for bnha bookclub’s bingo event, for which i can now cross off the “sex pollen” slot ;) also pls go soft on me if this is rough as it’s my first hawks fic <3 TT

tags : @hawks-senseis​ @queensynderella​ @knifeewifee​ @prismaroyal​

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Working beside the number two hero had its ups and downs. For one, you were insanely attracted to him, and you absolutely refused to admit it— to him, yourself, really anyone who asked. Not that it came up in conversation often, of course. You made sure of that.

The blonde was known for his go-with-the-flow, playful attitude, and you were not discluded from such a privilege, despite your many complaints. Deep down, you didn’t really mind his flirtatious behavior. Being a hero, even if you were only a sidekick at the moment, was tiring work. You did not have much time for yourself, let alone time to find men who you could flirt with or even go on dates with. Or even find a fuck buddy. 

God, it had been so long since you last received affection from a man. Work was your entire life now, and while you found comfort in knowing you were changing the world for the better— cleaning away the stain of evil on your city— you found yourself feeling lonely when you would return to your empty apartment each night.

So perhaps Hawks’ borderline suggestive comments were nice, welcome even. Not that you would ever tell him that. You would rather die than live with knowing he was privy to your thoughts; the mortification would simply be too much for you.

Little did you know, there was much desire and intention behind his seemingly meaningless flirting— for he, too, found you more than attractive. A walking, talking, gorgeous and independent woman who apparently wanted nothing to do with him— you were more than enough to catch his eye. But alas, you were years younger than the already-youthful hero himself, and you made it very clear to him that you did not want to do anything that could jeopardize your career at the agency the two of you were slaves to.

So the attraction went unspoken between the pair of you. Hawks would make a comment just a little too cheeky and you would roll your eyes or swat at him, and that would be the end of it. It would go on and on like this for months, and before you knew it, it had been almost a year of supporting the ever-popular winged hero. And everything was fine and good…

Until the red string on fate had to show its ugly face. And everything as you knew it was turned upside down on the head— the tall, prison-like walls you’d constructed to keep your feelings locked away all came tumbling down, right before your very eyes.

It had been a rather uneventful day of hero work, if you could recall correctly. Hawks had commented on your winged eyeliner that morning, saying how it made your eyes sparkle and give you an “avian edge”, which he found highly commendable. You had brushed him off, as usual, and the two of you had taken off to start your patrol, much like any other morning.

The sun was high in the sky, hanging cheerfully over the skyscrapers of the bustling city. The spring heat had not yet scorched the asphalt of the winding roads, a cool breeze tickling your skin as you walked beside the blonde hero. His large, scarlet wings were relaxed behind his shoulder blades, the very tips of his feathers brushing against your waist as you were pressed close to him on the busy sidewalk. It was all rather ordinary, looking back at it— you had just thrown away the wrappings from your on-the-go breakfast, feeling strengthened enough to take on whatever the day could possibly throw at you, when she appeared from what seemed like nowhere.

Hawks sprang into action immediately, recognizing the wicked glint in her eye much sooner than you. You were on a dull sideroad, almost an alleyway to be honest— a small street tucked away in the midst of the hasty city, sandwiched behind a few large buildings and the backs of restaurants. It was really the perfect place for a crime to occur, for there were few passerbys and no security cameras.

In just an instant, the number two hero was on his ass, nearly hacking up a lung as the offender sprayed a noxious cloud of pink spores directly into his face. The woman sported a vicious grin as she turned to you, and though Hawks tried his best to warn you of her attack, he found he could not speak— instead crumpling over to hold his stomach as his body seized with violent coughs. Just like that, you had fallen victim to her as well, your knees folding beneath you as your mind clouded over in a haze. You didn’t even register Hawks throwing her into the brick wall behind you, your brian too foggy to recognize anything before you. He was struggling to cuff the woman when he first began to sweat, his body beginning to tremble first in his chest, then spreading to his limbs and rushing into his veins, like the venom from a deadly serpent.

Your body felt hot— god, so hot— it was like liquid fire had been poured into your bloodstream, every cell of your body igniting into an all-consuming inferno. Sweat began to bead along your temple, the valley between your breasts, and the backs of your knees. You slumped onto the concrete beneath you, clammy palms scraping the rough pavement as you gasped for breath. But with each intake the symptoms only seemed to worsen, limbs growing weak and an intense pressure forming in your stomach, like an intruder attempting to burst through a barricaded door.

Hawks was busy fighting his own internal battle— the same feelings bubbling up inside of him as he clicked the quirk-canceling cuffs onto the assailant’s wrists, perhaps a notch or two too tight. He could feel himself coming to life underneath his trousers, fanning the growing fire in the pit of his stomach. “What did you do to us?” he bellowed, a mix between a groan and a growl. The tip of a ruby feather pointed itself at the base of her throat, a slight tremor shaking through the quill as his knees began to tremble.

The woman only laughed, amused by his blatant discomfort. Her eyes traveled over to your figure, curled into a tight ball on the ground. Hawks followed her gaze, distress panging through him as he realized the pained expression twisting your face.

“Reverse it,” he snarled, fists seizing the front of her shirt and pulling her body to sit upright.

But the villain only smirked, her busted lip not seeming to bother her as her eyes twinkled with malice. “Sorry, can’t do that,” she chuckled, though it came out sounding more like a wheeze, “no takesies-backsies.”

Hawks bared his teeth at her, his ferality getting the better of him as he slammed her against the brick wall another time. Her eyes fell closed and her body went limp, signalling she was out of commission for at least the time being.

“Damn it,” he groaned as her clothes slipped from his fingers, the digits opting to push into his wild tawny locks instead. Whatever quirk this woman had used on him was working too fast, and its effects were too strong. His cock was rock hard, straining against the confining material of his pants, and his body was becoming much too strung out from restraining his amplifying desire.

Chills rolled down his spine as you called out to him, your voice breathy and rough. His gloved hands clamped into fists as he shut his eyes, praying to whatever god there was to lend him the strength necessary to keep himself from tackling you and ripping off your clothes. He had never felt so desperate for you before— never had he needed to touch and taste every inch of you like he did right now. Whatever longing he had harbored for you before this morning was nothing in comparison to the emotions clobbering his sense of self-control at the moment— god, if you even called out for him one more time, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from taking you, right here and now.

Little did he know, that was the one thing you wanted— needed, even— more than anything.

Your arms were crossed atop your chest, your knees tucking in to bend in front of them as you literally held yourself together. You could feel yourself leaking from between your legs, pussy twitching and itchy for any kind of attention you could get. “P-Please, Keigo,” you whimpered, your hands slowly trailing down your biceps, a palm clutching your own breast, thumb rubbing over the stiff nipple that stood out from beneath your hero suit.

Hawks couldn’t stand still for another second— the sound of his name from your lips too arousing, too intimate— he was on his knees before you in a flash. Both of you moaned as his lips slotted over yours, not a moment to spare as your body unfurled and wrapped around his frame, pulling him flush against yourself. His tongue pushed into your mouth, the tip twirling with yours and gliding against the back of your teeth.

Lost in the pleasure of his mouth on yours, your hands wandered over his shoulders, his chest, one taking root in his silky, fine hair. You could smell his aftershave wafting off his cheeks, the stubble on his chin tickling you as he began to kiss and nip at your jaw. He was insatiable, and so were you— your hands groping and wandering all over each other. Neither of you could get enough. 

You couldn’t believe that this was really happening, in the middle of this secluded, public alleyway, during your patrol as heroes— figures that the citizens of your city looked up to, no less. Yet you couldn’t find a shit to give, and Hawks had abandoned all sense of rationality the moment you dared to cry out for him. He didn’t seem to mind the public setting, for he didn’t harbor a shred of hesitance as he swatted your hand away from your chest. His own palm squeezed your breast as he suckled on your throat, making his first of many marks that would grace your skin.

It wasn’t long before he had you against the brick wall, your body snug between his firm torso and the roughness of the bricks at your back. His face trailed further south, his absence at your neck leaving your saliva-covered skin to prickle with cold. But you weren’t left pining for more long— his teeth gripping onto your nipple through your shirt, kissing and sucking at your covered chest as his hands careened down your waist, cupping your ass and lifting you off your feet just enough for your toes to drag across the pavement.

Your heart leapt into your throat as Hawks sunk to his knees, folding your legs over his shoulders and pressing his face into the apex between your thighs. His strong arms flexed as he held you up against the wall, your legs twitching as he pressed a line of kisses into your skin. Somehow you managed to wriggle out of your bottoms, your soaked panties now on full display for the winged hero, who only groaned at the sight before his tongue began to lather at the front of the material, right over your aching slit.

You felt itchy, itchier than you’d ever been before, your cunt pulsing and squeezing around nothing as you tried to wiggle your hips closer to his mouth. “H-Hawks,” you gasped as his teeth pinched the cloth, pulling it back and letting go, just to watch it snap against your drooling center.

“No, no, little bird,” he murmured sinisterly, taking a second to rub his nose along your slit, smirking at the clearly visible line of wetness that had soaked through the material. The teasing was torture, your body screaming for him to touch you again, for even more this time.

You cut him off, too impatient for his games. “Please touch me,” you begged, breath ragged in your chest.

Golden eyes turned to slits as he grit his teeth, fighting himself not to just whip out his cock and thrust into you right then and there. “If you’re gonna beg, do it properly. I wanna hear my name, dove.”

You couldn’t handle another second of agony; everything felt like it was on fire, every inch of you ready to be used, destroyed at his disposal. “Please fuck me— I— please Keigo, I need you so bad, I can’t stand it anymore!”

Hawks grinned as he ripped your panties off your body, the splitting of the seams shocking you into looking down at him. If anything, the ferocious action only turned you on even more than before, and you screamed out as his tongue immediately wove into your tight little hole. Your entire body shook as his hot muscle slithered in and out of you, alternating between tracing your entrance and rubbing against your slick, gummy walls.

There was nothing you could do but bask in the euphoria he was giving you, your jaw falling open as his tongue retracted and he wrapped his lips around your clit instead. Your eyes slammed shut, moans escaping you as your fingers delved into those bronze locks, fisting them as you ground against his face. His chin rubbed against your weeping entrance, and Hawks found himself wishing he had two tongues, so he could lap up the delicious slick that poured out of your gushing hole.

But it stopped all too soon, a sob choking out of you when he stopped satiating you with his mouth. His hand guided one of your thighs off his shoulder, placing your foot on the pavement and giving your shaking limb an encouraging squeeze before he took his hand away. His slanted eyes locked with yours as he brought his hand to his mouth, teeth securing the edge of his glove and ripping the accessory off, revealing his long, slender fingers to your lustful gaze. The hero then crumpled the leather into a tight ball, extending his arm up to your face and pressing it against your lips.

“Can’t have my dove making too much noise now, can I?” he mumbled, a feathered brow quirking up to give him a classic, mischievous look. “Too noisy and we’ll have to cut our fun short.”

At that you shyly opened your mouth, allowing him to press the glove past your lips. Once it was secure, his thumb brushed over your cheek as he grinned, his fingers then sliding down to pinch at your nipples. You moaned at the sensation, the leather glove in your mouth muffling the noise almost completely.

Hawks’ smile only broadened at that, leaning forward to take your clit into his mouth again. Your hips bucked against him, the thigh over his shoulder curling tighter and pressing him closer to you. It felt good— so incredibly good to have his tongue entertaining your pearl of nerves, lathering and swirling it, even using his teeth to graze against it. Your head fell back onto the wall behind you, eyelids fluttering shut as his fingers around your leg dug into your flesh, his other hand squishing at your chest before trailing down your waist, then down your thigh.

Suddenly his fingers were toying with your entrance, your slick stringing as he spread his fingers, golden gaze eagerly drinking up the sight of your arousal. Oh, how he’d longed for the day he could finally do this to his sweet little sidekick— to be able to lick and kiss and nip at your most sensitive parts, only to hear you moan and whine his name, gasping for more. It was even better that his glove was shoved into your mouth, muting your saccharine voice just enough so that no one else could hear you— your noises of pleasure were his and only his to hear, to soak up, and indulge in.

You cried out as two digits slipped inside of you, your wetness never having been so overt in your life. The extra slick dripped down the tops of your thighs, your pussy shamelessly slobbering for the man currently knelt between your legs. Your velvet walls sucked his fingers deeper inside, milking them as your cunt clenched uncontrollably, his tongue relentlessly lashing against your swollen clit. Hawks’ fingers pumped into you steadily, sheathing and pulling out just the first two knuckles into your waiting hole time and time again. The movements initially were slow, as if testing the waters. But after a few exploratory thrusts, he pushed the digits inside of you as far as he could, curling them toward himself and prodding your spongy walls.

He wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop— you tasted too damn delicious, and his cock was leaking into his briefs at the premise of being inside you, your stifled sounds only adding fuel to the fire in his stomach. Your body was beginning to show signs of near-orgasm, and it only made him more excited to see you so reactive for him. Your eyes were shut tight, fingers pulling on his golden tresses so tightly he could feel his mind practically spinning. And your legs were trembling, almost so badly that he wondered if you were going to collapse on top of him at any moment.

You whimpered as his hand switched angles, the very tips of his fingers rubbing right against the most sensitive spot inside of you. Hawks noticed your body twitch, even though you tried your best to keep your reaction a secret to him, ashamed to already be so close to cumming. But the winged hero was feeling anything but shame— pressing his fingers into that spot again and again, savoring how your cries became louder underneath his glove in your mouth, your limbs quivering against his skin. You tried to warn him, your thigh squeezing tight around his shoulder, your fingers lacing even tighter into his hair, spine stiffening.

Hawks seemed to know what was coming, for his fingers began flicking back and forth inside of you, stimulating that soft, spongy spot that made stars blur at the corners of your vision. Your toes curled tight inside your boots, tears pooling between your eyelashes, your body feeling as though it was trapped inside an elevator surging toward the thousandth floor of a skyscraper. The tension was building, building, oh it was so close— you could practically see the heavenly, orgasmic light shining just before you, and then—

He pulled back.

Had his glove not been occupying your mouth, your whine of anguish would have echoed off the stone walls of the alleyway, your body slumping into his arms in complete dejection. Your brows were furrowed in torment, wondering how in the world Hawks had the strength to pull away from you when you were in such a state— you were practically imploring for his attention, body so hot and willing that you’d let him do anything he could possibly want to you.

You were too lost mourning the lost orgasm to notice Hawks haphazardly shoving his pants down, pulling his black, tight shirt halfway up his abs. His cock sprang up from its confines, his eyes just slits as he focused his gaze on your dripping cunt, still twitching in misery from his teasing torture. You only realized you were being maneuvered once it was too late— he had dropped the leg that had previously rested on his shoulder, instead taking the other and pushing it to press up against the wall, his fingers digging into your thigh. He was upright now, teeth taking the tip of your ear hostage as he rutted his heavy cock against your saturated slit.

Fresh waves of lust rippled through your body, your bones turning cold with white-hot anticipation. You could feel everything— his member sliding against your entrance, gliding against you from head to base, even the veins decorating his shaft as they brushed against your aching core.

Hawks’ breath was heavy in your ear, but that only made you want him more. It was the only physical sign that he was just as affected as you; the soft groan falling from his lips as you bucked against him was proof enough of that. Yet somehow he staved off from thrusting into you, despite your pussy coating his whole length in your slippery love syrup.

You tried to complain, but the glove between your lips jumbled any words into a muted mess.

He seemed to be amused by your efforts, his honey gaze seizing yours. “If I take that out for you, do you promise you’ll be a good little dove for me? Can’t have you singing too loud, alright?” His words were music to your ears, and you quickly nodded your head, eager to prove yourself to him. But he didn’t move a muscle; only his tongue wandered out to swipe across his bottom lip, which then disappeared between his teeth. His eyes darted south, and before yours could follow suit, he pushed inside you to the hilt.

You screamed as he forced your elastic walls to stretch around him, the thickness of his cock taking you by surprise. Intense pleasure burst into your body as he pulled out halfway, sheathing himself back inside almost immediately. Hawks’ eyes were shut tight, savoring the way your cunt hugged him so perfectly. Already you were milking him, and he knew there was no way he could last.

It didn’t matter, really, because the instant his hand slid down your pelvis and his fingers began to toy with your clit, you were gone. Instantly that intense pressure built just like it had before, for a split second it was all you could feel. And then you were crashing through your orgasm, his name the only thing on your brain. You called it out again and again, ecstasy zipping through your veins and toward the intense heat that the villain’s quirk had produced. The sensations clashed in a fiery explosion, your entire body straining as you did your best to handle the pleasure, your pussy wringing tight around Hawks’ cock.

Hawks gasped, his head falling to your shoulder at the intensity— at the snugness of your cunt like a vice around him, at the sound of your muffled cries for him, at the way your body trembled in his hands. He didn’t wait long, though, for after the initial shock of your orgasm arriving, his hips began to ruthlessly smack against yours. His grip was now tight on your body, fingernails digging little crescents into the skin of your thigh and your asscheek, which he pulled back to slide himself even deeper inside of you.

Your head smacked against the brick as it fell backwards, the pleasure flowing endlessly through your entire body. It was only then that Hawks bothered to take his glove from between your lips, and you immediately gasped for the sweet rush of air that filled your mouth. Small noises of content slithered out of you with every crash of his hips against you, impossible for you to silence the constant “hah” and “yes”’es. Not that Hawks seemed to really mind— in fact, he was eating up every sweet noise that left your throat, cherishing the cute, dazed look on your face as he pummeled your tight little cunt with his fat cock.

It was wrong to be this attracted to his sidekick, he knew. But maybe that was why it felt so fucking good, too— the forbidden, unspoken attraction that hung between the pair of you like a heavy shadow whenever you were together. The line had been crossed, and god, was the grass greener on the other side. If this was what being with you felt like, he didn’t want to go back. He couldn’t— he’d tasted your sweet ambrosia and he could never push you away again. You were pouring life into him as you took his cock so perfectly, and he could feel nothing but euphoria as he slammed your cunt onto himself again and again.

His release was building, but goddamn it, he was gonna hold out for as long as he could. He was gonna make you feel as good as he possibly could, and hopefully it was something that could mirror the intense bliss that you were giving him. From the way your irises rolled back in your skull, your nails gripping into his muscles tightly as your jaw hung ajar, his name slipping through your lips every other thrust— he guessed he was doing a pretty good job.

Meanwhile your brain was nearly liquefying in your skull, the aftershocks of your orgasm still stinging your bones with pleasure. Hawks never let you come down from your high, and he was doing a damn good job at keeping you on cloud nine— his hand holding up your thigh so he had a better angle to continue drilling into that sweet, springy spot inside of you. His wings began to flutter and stretch behind him, flapping gently with each swing of his hips. It felt so good that you could barely keep yourself from screaming for him, from letting the entire city know that it was him who was fucking you so good.

“K-Keigo,” you choked, a tear sliding down your cheek. Hawks moaned at the sound of his name on your voice, leaning forward to lick up the saline bead before he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, a shocking contrast to how hard he was pounding into you just a short distance south. “Feels so— agh! fuck— good, oh my goddd.”

Hawks nipped at your throat, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became more shallow, his pace beginning to falter. “You like my cock, dove?” he growled, chest heaving as that intense pressure started to build in his stomach. “Your pussy is so fuckin’ wet for me— T-Tight! Hah, shit— s’too fuckin’ good baby.”

You could only moan at his words, cunt clenching down on him on its own accord. Hawks gasped at the feeling, teeth sinking into your throat as the heat of the quirk clashed with the heightened tension in his abdomen. The collision of the two sensations proved to be too much for the winged hero to handle, a groan rumbling his throat as he painted your insides white with ribbons of cum, his wings unfurling and each individual feather quivering in sheer ecstasy. His body shook, muscles taut as he emptied himself into your dripping cunt, arms wrapping tight around your waist as he gasped for breath.

The heat from your bodies began to dwindle, the villain’s quirk exiting your systems and rendering the two of you boneless, breathless, and satisfied like never before. It suddenly dawned on you that you were in the middle of an alleyway, the cool spring breeze touseling Hawks’ blonde hair before your eyes. He was still wrapped around you, trying to catch his breath as his cock continued to throb against your silken walls. The pair of you stood still against the brick wall, the fact that you’d just crossed such a serious line with your closest coworker setting in. There was a sense of dread that began to bloom in your chest, your suppressed feelings for the hero unleashed and thriving, now more than ever.

Before you could overthink for another second, Hawks pulled back, warm golden eyes peering into yours. “I gotta say, dove,” he murmured, a hand coming to cup your jaw and stroke his thumb across your skin, “that was definitely the best quirk I’ve ever been hit with on the job.”

You chuckled at that, the weight of the situation instantly lightening up as you gave him a slow nod of agreement. Your heart began to beat quickly as you gathered the courage to take it a step further than his confession. “I’m glad it was with you,” you replied quietly, meekly averting your gaze to the side.

Hawks hummed, thumbing over your cheek again as a smile rose to his lips. He pressed his mouth to yours again, fingers creeping into your hair as he pulled your face close to his. This kiss was unlike any you shared before, conveying only a sweetness, fondness even— a comforting reciprocation. You smiled against his lips, too, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back, your fear dissipating as fast as it had come.

“I’m glad, too,” Hawks mumbled between your kisses, pulling away to quirk a brow at you playfully. “Can you imagine if I was with Endeavor instead?” he made the both of you laugh before leaning in to press his lips against yours again, the image of the serious, number one hero and your coworker in such a situation too hilarious not to laugh. But just as you started to deepen the kiss, he couldn’t resist throwing in the punchline he’d set up.

“I’d be a damn rotisserie chicken by now.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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sdfghj i never know how to end these and also why do i use this many dashes i am sORRY  if you enjoyed pls make sure to lemme know~~ 💕

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