SIMPLE COMPLICATION, MISCOMMUNICATION

It's so cute when kids get restless or excited then they start fiddling with their clothes HSHSHSHAHA

Stop it, Inko!! He’s already dead!

WAKING UP TO THEIR EMBRACE !

synopis: waking up to their embrace after staying at their place last night.

characters: childe, diluc, itto, kaeya, kazuha, xiao, zhongli

content warnings: suggestive + gn!reader

childe: when you wake up with sleepy eyes after coming home, to childe’s apartment you feel a loose arm around your waist. already noticing that the dull eyes have been staring at you before you had awaken. you cannot help but get flustered, as he presses a kiss to your head.

diluc: your back would be to his chest while he holds you by your waist, sleeping and nuzzled deep into your hair. he loved your aroma and scent and adored it so much. waking up to him is nice and cozy because he hardly snores and he usually wakes up after you do to say good morning.

itto: waking up to him is basically like being held by a huge teddy bear. he does snore a bit in the morning but perhaps it’s a sound you can get accustomed too. though if you wake up before him, he’ll just encourage you to go back to sleep.

kaeya: waking up to him feels like a short blessing, because he is so warm and hearing him praise and flirt with you at dawn is like the cherry on top. though a majority of the time his flirty comments makes you nervous so you end up burying your head into his shoulder.

kazuha: he always holds you upon his chest carefully, stroking the strands of your hair and saying good morning once your eyes meet the sun peaking through the windows. he’ll ask simple questions and always asking if you wanted to catch breakfast with him.

xiao: he generally likes to watch you fall asleep but the temptation and the urge to hold you, is way too strong which is why you awake in the morning to him pressing your head upon his chest while he tells you to go back to bed and kisses your forehead.

zhongli: oh archons, he is so gentle. he holds you very carefully and softly, making sure that you are safe in his warmth and embrace. he either has your head placed on his chest or shoulder to guarantee you comfort.

A Hopeless Lovestory: Malleus Draconia x Reader

A/N: Piggybacking off of my “Malleus is exactly like Gomez Addams as a partner,” post. Why? Because I will die with this. This is Malleus, or at least my interpretation of him. Yes yes, I love picturing him as the cute dorky fae that’s behind with tech times and wants friendship. It’s cute. But this? This. I stand with. Man lives in Victorian Fae land, surrounded by dark magic, will never work a day in his life, and is a hopeless romantic. This is my tribute to how much of a SIMP Malleus is.

Keep reading

kiss me more (book six spoilers)

SUMMARY: Vil wonders why the Prefect has been avoiding him lately, only to find that the answer is very interesting.

CHARACTER: Vil Schoenheit.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: who else freaked the fuck out when vil kissed their cheek in game? i am raising my hand. i was so freaked out that i had to brain dump and now this exists. vil stans come eat.

~~~~~

Vil doesn’t quite understand what’s gotten into the Prefect ever since they returned from Styx. Whenever he is in their general vicinity, they make a run for it with a panicked look on their face. It’s starting to get irritating, because he can’t even confront behavior with how good they’ve gotten at avoiding him.

And so he hunts them down. They’re almost certainly at Ramshackle at this hour, and if this is what it takes for them to give him the explanation he wants, he will corner them on their own turf.

Vil knocks on the door and receives a quiet  “I’m coming!” from inside. Footsteps follow, and when he hears the door unlocking he braces for their inevitable escape attempt.

Attempt, because they aren’t getting away again.

The second the door opens, he catches it with his hand. He doesn't force himself in, he’s not a brute. He just stands there and watches their expression shift from panic to guilt.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, voice level and calm, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“Um-! I mean, no…” they murmur, looking anywhere but him, “You’re better off just not knowing, okay? I’m sorry-”

“I want to know.” he says, unrelenting as he narrows his eyes at them.

“I…It’s so embarrassing-! Please don’t laugh at me, okay?” they cover their face with their hands as they speak, and he hears the whispery scream that follows.

“Why in Twisted Wonderland would I laugh at you?” he shakes his head and sighs, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want an explanation.”

“I can’t stop thinking about what you did at Tartarus!” they blurt out, “Every time I think about you kissing my cheek I die! I can’t be around you after that, I would fumble and trip all over myself and be a nuisance! It would be embarrassing!”

Vil stands in shock as they cover their face again, clearly flustered beyond belief. Oh, this is so entertaining. He really should be kinder, but he has half a mind to tease them right now.

He shouldn’t.

But he does.

“Oh, is that right?” he chuckles, reaching out and peeling their hands away from their very warm face, “If you wanted another one, all you had to do was ask.”

“W…What?!” they shriek, hands trembling fiercely in his gentle grasp, “What are you talking about?! You can’t just-!”

“Oh, but I can. Will you allow me?” he hums, letting go of their hands in order to cup their face, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I…I…I…” their mouth moves but no words come out, and Vil can’t help but think they’re just downright adorable right now.

He tilts their head and leans in, giving them the room they need to pull away if this is not what they want.

They don’t move.

He holds them reverently as he presses a kiss to their cheek, letting it linger before he pulls away. He can practically feel how warm their face is from his teasing, and it fills him with a smug satisfaction. Who else could make them this speechless?

“What was that for?!” they shriek, frantically waving their hands around their neck and face, “You-! You can’t just do that-!”

“I do hope you’ll stop ignoring me now.” Vil smiles smugly as he stares at them adoringly.

They’re still babbling, attempting to regain their thought process, but he knows they understand.

And if not, he’ll just have to teach them again.

kuroo is the type to play along when some parent points at him and tells their kid “if u dont behave that man will take you away” and him going :D when the kid cries louder

gratitude

pairings (separately!) - diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, albedo childe/tartaglia, zhongli, xiao, kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, dainsleif x gender neutral reader

word count - 3113

genre - fluff, comfort

format - drabbles

warnings - skinship

summary - he's looking at you like no one ever has, and you can't help but thank him

a/n - i've always wanted to write something like this :D many people have waited so long to find their partners and it's really a euphoric feeling when you do :) also yes i did write a frickin haiku just for kazuha's HAHA

all around you is perfectly still.

nothing moves, time is frozen save for the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the slight, gentle scratch of his nails on your scalp.

he exudes nothing but warmth and compassion. his firm arms cradle you tight against his body as if you were crafted of the finest china or the silkiest glass. he situated you on his lap like a plush pillow and pressed his heart against yours to beat in sync.

your senses are filled with him: the touch of his finger pads on your back, his alluring scent, that beautiful voice that riles up the butterflies deep within your stomach, the stunning image of his radiant visage and rose colored irises, the taste of his words on your palette and the brush of his lips against yours.

overwhelmed might be a way to describe it, but in the moment where he looks you straight in the eye with nothing but love and adoration swirling in those misty pools of his, you can't help but feel like putty in his arms.

"thank you," your searing hot hands come up to hold his slacked face, just above a whisper, you hardly recognize your voice that dripped with affection and filled itself with love lined with gold, "thank you for loving me."

diluc.

diluc and the idea of "romantic love" have never gone well together in his mind. many times had he found someone in his youth who fancied him and many times has he blown them off as gentlemanly in nature as he could. though, he could never deny his curiosity for such affections. with a windwheel aster in one hand, he plucked until it was down to the last petal where the words "they love me" rested on his lips in a whisper instead of "they love me not", though he did not know who he wanted to love him.

but here you sat on his lap, holding his face as if you held the world in your hands and thanked him for loving you. it almost baffled him, just how lucky he was. it was as if he'd been searching in a field of three leafed clovers and finally found a stem with four protruding leaves. but instead of plucking it, he gently nursed the tiny plant and came back to it each day with something new. you were his luck, his most beloved person, someone for which he would bring down heaven and walk into hell barefeet.

no longer did he lay awake at night, holding his pillow close to him and wondering what it would be like to be able to hold someone within his arms. nor did he purchase lovely roses for no one in particular, and place them on his desk as if awaiting to one day give them to someone.

no, you were here in his arms, thanking him for loving you unconditionally. but in reality it was him who knew you held his heart in your hands and gently cradled it within your love.

"the pleasure of loving you belongs entirely to me, my love." he whispered into the palm of your hand and finalized his words with an inward kiss.

kaeya.

love was a preposterous idea for someone like kaeya. he knew this and he knew it well, better than anyone else. love was fickle, unsteady, and uncertain. if one truly peered beneath his arctic waves and caught sight of the monstrous iceberg that lay underneath, would they truly stay? his resolution was firm: he would never fall in love. and yet, much like his brother, his curiosity would often get the better of him when in the privacy of either the winds of barbatos or the brick-walled confines of his office.

he'd place his palm on the skin of his chest and feel for his heartbeat, and wonder one day if his heart would belong to someone—someone who would see all of him and keep their feet planted firmly by his side. kaeya thought himself stupid, that he asked too much. someone like him deserved to be all by his lonesome so when the storms finally ravaged his world, there wouldn't be any collateral damage.

and yet here you were, hand on his chest feeling the heart that belonged to you thump ferociously underneath the thin skin of his chest. you were thanking him. the idea almost made him laugh, for how could someone as radiant as you be thanking him for his love. you'd managed to wriggle your way into his life and cause a mess of his resolution until he gave into his desires and made you his.

he still placed his hand on his chest from time to time, to remind himself of his humanity, and to be reminded that this heart that beat so tenderly not only beats for him but thunders onwards for you.

"i should be the one thanking you, but i have a feeling we'd be here all day if i started that war." he mused against your lips with a smile and locked you in once more for another intoxicating kiss.

he was willing to set aside his convictions, just this once.

albedo.

baffled is what he is. albedo is a man of logic and of precision and love is neither of those things. logic can't explain the desire to see you in the wee hours of the night when he plagued himself with nightmarish visions intertwined with formulas with letters he couldn't make sense of. love confuses him, but he finds himself rather intrigued. he's first introduced to the concept through a novel—impulsive procurement. he often never realized it much once he finished the novel, but his slender fingers would come up to his scalp and gently rake through his soft, tender locks as if his hand didn't belong to him—as if his hand had turned into his lover's that didn't exist.

shame overwhelmed him for such actions, but the feeling often crept up on him while his mind lay idle, awake at night wondering what chemicals are released when one kisses someone they love dearly. sketching would take his mind off of the desire, but alas, he found himself sketching two silhouettes on the backdrop of beaches and forests lined with gold and silver, their hands always intertwined.

now, his sketchbook was filled with sketches of you. pencil lines marks the edges, grooves, curves, and dips of your face and body. each line had been carefully drawn with love and precision. it was no longer his hand that raked through his locks, pretending to be his lover's hand, but instead your own hand lovingly tended to the tensed strands of ashen blonde hair on his scalp and pressed kiss after kiss to the skin where just below the bone lay a magnificent mind.

"thanking me is a fruitless action," he gently grasped your palm and pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, "for i'm still learning from you each and every day, what it truly means to love. for that, i am eternally grateful to you."

childe.

love is gentle, tender, and patient, nothing like childe. he lusts for chaos and craves disorder. love—romantic love—was the furthest thing from his mind whenever he drew his weapons and charged forth with a charming grin and a palpitating heart. although, there were times when he'd come across fields of brilliant flowers stilling in the wind, stretching for miles in hues of all kinds and he'd find himself at a loss for who he could show such a magnificent sight to. he'd brush his fingers against the skin of his calloused and scarred palm and wonder what the feel of another hand in his would be like. would it be akin to the handle of his blade? or that of a delicate flower stem?

what a true predicament he's found himself in, yearning for the soft touch of one filled with the blessing of eros yet finding himself engrossed in giving into the urges brought forth by ares himself. conflict waged wars in his mind but they always came to a halt when he felt the soft skin of your hands anywhere on his body.

you held the power to subdue his primal urges and smooth over the rough bumps and edges that carved themselves into his skin. even now as he cradled you in his arms, it felt unreal to believe that you were thanking him for loving you. his hand felt barren of warmth no longer, instead an irreplaceable tug filled the void and tugged at his heart.

"i will always love you, so there's no need to thank me, sunshine." he took your hand and intertwined it with his, letting you bump your unsullied fingers against the deep ridges and scars that lined his hands.

zhongli.

to love is one of the most blessed acts in zhongli's mind. there was once a time where he believed love was weak, to love was to be mortal, such acts are beneath an archon who must fight to the death for sustainability. yet there was a tender part of his buried beneath the bedrock of his heart that pulsed and beamed with every moment he breathed. he often wondered if he was truly capable of love, or of loving someone in their entirety.

discipline was written on the back of his hands and imprinted down the line of his spine, but he truly was fascinated with mortals. not only mortals as a whole, but their capacity to feel the thing they called love. he'd lay awake at night and wonder if he too could love, while clutching his throbbing heart that ached for something he couldn't define.

you seemed to define it all: what love was to him. love was tender in the way you longingly looked at him with those doe eyes of yours. love was confusing in the way you'd beckon for his presence late at night to hold you close while you drifted out of consciousness. love meant many things to him because of the way you fiddled with the broach on his tie or the subtle tuck of his hair behind his ear courtesy of your smooth fingers.

with nothing but adoration in your eyes, you stared up at him and he felt the rush of gold flow through his veins. a god possesses many things but love is never usually one of them. zhongli, however, can say different.

"my lily, you need not thank me for loving you," his hands overlapped yours that held his face while his nose gently bumped against yours, "know that i am truly the thankful one for having you to stand by my side until my memories are nothing but dust."

xiao.

love isn't in his vocabulary nor is it an emotion that comes naturally to xiao. he considers himself a weapon, a tool, and inanimate objects are not capable of love. he is a man of discipline, nothing shall ever tempt him from his true duties. yet the very human part of him cannot help but entertain ludicrous ideas. like the feel of a warm body pressed tight against his, or the sensual touch of nails gently trailing down his tattooed arms. his mind wanders when all is quiet and the lands are peaceful, but that was all it ever was: a dream, a pastime for until when he'd need to sacrifice himself and become a weapon yet again.

but his mortal indulgences were all he had to feel as though he weren't suffocating beneath a thick, black, wave of fog and hazing dust. his palms were cold but he imagined they held nothing but warmth when he placed his palms onto the line of his jaw and pretended that someone held him not like a tool or a weapon, but as a regular man who was allowed to be human.

the feel of your hands on his face never felt real, despite his pinches and slaps to his face to see if it was all a dream. your hands were so very warm, warmer than his could ever be and they ignited a fire within his chest whenever they found solace holding his face. your nails traced the shapes of the tattoos on his biceps and your kisses made a home for themselves nestled in his soft locks. to say he was out of his element would be an understatement, you brought him light amidst a slew of black holes and carried warmth where frigid ice reigned supreme.

he needed to say nothing, if he tried he wasn't sure he could form the right words at all. your kisses took the breath away from him and he'd be happy to give you all that he was, and you felt it in the way his grip on you tightened and the press of his forehead against yours in a silent promise to forever protect you with his life.

kaedehara kazuha.

like swirling red leaves

that fall swiftly to the ground

my heart stills once more

love is poetry and as free as kazuha himself. there are many ways in which the winds can blow for him, and yet he finds solace in treading along the most gentle of breezes. love is whatever comes along his way, and his patience knows no bounds. but there are nights where he sits atop a perch of the alcor and traces patterns of stars with his eyes. words of a poem begin to slip from his lips and yet there are no ears to listen. his private indulgence of whispering poems of love for no one in particular are what manages to keep him sane, but he knows that such a blessing can only come with time. so he waits.

his notebooks are lined with words which he one days yearns to speak, and yet time has deemed that he is not ready yet. the words he'd created felt like sugar on his tongue, sweet and burning hot to the touch yet he'd still swallow as if it were nothing but water.

practiced to perfection was his soothing voice against the shell of your ear, whispering line after line of all the words that lived within his mind. your beauty makes the stars pale in comparison, to hold you was almost akin to holding the last bit of a comet, the tail that shone the most voluminously. his patience had rewarded him with you, all the time he spent alone writing away at what he wished to say now found a new home etched into the grooves of your brain, written in thick ink in the most beautiful of cursive.

you had given him the world, and still thanked him with that lovely voice of yours.

"i am thankful for you as well, my beloved. you bring heaven down to earth for me." he whispered against your temple and cradled you like you'd slip away from his grasp if he let go too soon.

scaramouche.

love was dumb, simply put. whatever scaramouche could not comprehend became immediately dubbed as "dumb", and love was the number one item on this list. such ludicrous feelings were far below the stature of the sixth harbinger, nor did he have the time or patience for love. he spoke these words loud and clear for all to hear, but the silent ache of his heart spoke unsaid words that clung to him and made a mess of his life.

he denied himself curiosity, or to look past the whirling storms that encircled his heart. but every so often when the moon sat high in the sky and he'd stripped himself of his title, scaramouche would faintly trace the sides of his torso and imagine the tender hold of another on his waist. his pillow was too hard to imagine as a human body, and such a silly thought had him fuming the next morning.

love was dumb and yet here you were in his arms, hands around his torso just like he'd imagined and your lips hovering over his own, thanking him for loving you. to deserve someone like you, someone who looked past his stormy exterior and found a gentle core pulsing with violet fervor. where he grew horns and bared his fangs, you showed your wings and smoothed down the frazzled ends of his locks. gentleness was not a word in his book and yet you took a pen and rewrote all of his pages.

"you're a dumbass, y'know that?" scaramouche grinned wickedly as the soft give of your cheek pulled in his forefinger and thumb despite your whining protests.

"but you're my dumbass, you don't need to thank me for loving you. if anything it should be the other way around." he suddenly pushed your face into the crook of his neck and ensnared your body within his arms, letting his words be absorbed by your burning skin.

dainsleif.

a sole wanderer, destined to pursue a fruitless goal amidst loneliness and destitute caverns of fragility. there was no time for love, no time to think about it or indulge in it. but dainsleif has always defied the odds, and even then as he lay by his lonesome beside another quiet fire, he thought of love. the feel of a hand raking through his soft, feathery locks, the gentle press of a kiss on his forehead, the innocent intertwining of pinkies or hands. he thought himself a fool, waking up with flushed cheeks and a mind full of temptation.

but such feelings no longer lived alone in his mind. the feel of your hands combing through his locks were real, as was the persistent kisses to his flushing face and the innocent intertwining of your pinky against his. he would forever be at your mercy and yet it was you who thanked him for the love in your eyes.

baffled and bewildered, he doesn't quite understand why you thank him when it was you who allowed him to shed himself of his duties and become simple dainsleif, who loved you and would give his life for you.

you were real, in his arms and thanking him for his love. you were real and you weren't going anywhere. as tenderly as you held his face, his palms came up and cupped your jaw as if it would break under his touch.

"gratitude is not what i seek, but you hold my heart within your hands and that is more than enough for me." dainsleif sealed his words with a gentle kiss on your forehead doused with adoration and crafted of love.

date published: july 29th, 2021

i can’t believe i fell for it

Howdy do~! I’ve got a fluff/angst scenario in mind: The dorm leaders’ (including Jamil’s) fem! s/o suddenly wakes up screaming in the middle of the night because of a traumatic nightmare of them Overblotting. As she wakes up, she tearfully tells them she’s scared of losing them a second time. How will they comfort her? Please and thanks!

Dorm Leaders + Jamil + MC's Nightmare

Hi! I've really put some thought into this, so it sort of ended up bittersweet and maybe some parts turned out to be more angsty... Please avoid [Vil & Leona's] if you are uncomfortable with self-deprecating thoughts.

Also for clarification, I did not open Anon. The user deactivated, which is why you now see them as anon.

All you could feel was ink around your body. The slimy, dark substance suffocating your being as the inked hand of your beloved snaked to your neck, their face unrecognisable from the corrupting ink.

"You…" He groaned out, his voice scratched and hollow.

"You did this to me…"

You screamed, reaching for your throat. "NO!" You winced, realising you were in your bed at NRC. You looked around the room, tears in your eyes searching for your beloved.

"YN?"

Malleus Draconia

He rushed to you, still half-transformed, his height a little taller and his wings touching the floor. The black wings extended out, its wingspan covering you up as he pulled you out of the covers, wrapping you in his body instead.

"Love… talk to me," The Fae begged, fear rising in his chest as he felt the way you trembled in his arms. He rested his chin to your forehead, his lips pressing to the crown of your head as he inhaled your scent. "Please… YN."

Your body shook to the point the tears rolled down your cheek. You clutched to Malleus' shirt, burying yourself deeper into his chest as your breath hitched. In the moments of silence, Malleus rubbed your shoulders to soothe you as you relaxed into your lover's chest.

You began recalling your nightmare. "I… I saw you in ink."

The one line from your lips brought you to a choked sob, as your hand reached out to cup your beloved's face. You felt his leather-like wings curl up to you, "Malleus… I don't want to lose you again."

The words from you were a thorn in his heart. For many days, he tried to forget his moment of weakness to the ink, but he couldn't imagine the damage that had been done to your psyche, considering that you were the one to deal with him in the first place. From that day forward, he vowed to never lose control ever again, but evidenced by your nightmare, you were concerned about him too.

The Fae pressed his scaled forehead to yours, his bright orbs staring into your tearful ones. Oh, how he wished he could use his magic to kill off those nightmares, but it was impossible since they came from your own thoughts. Your hands instinctively went to cup his jaw, with one of his clawed hands covering your hand and another wrapped around your waist.

"There is not a day that I wish for it to never occur, YN," He told you, his eyes serious about the ordeal. "Your nightmare is only proof that I need to be the strongest magic user in this land, so no harm shall befall to the future bride of the Draconia family." He said with utter resolve.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you began to grow tired once more, slumping against your lover's chest with his wings still wrapped around you. The Fae proceeded to lie on your shared bed, his wings shrinking to accommodate his size.

"There is much I would sacrifice to you," He whispered against your skin. "Anything you tell me not to do will be taken as my own blood oath, so sleep with the assurance that your Tsunotarou won't leave you."

Riddle Rosehearts

It was the first time you saw Riddle's face full of concern. No blooming reds of happiness, nor raging crimson of anger was on his face. Simply worry, and concern that struck him cold. It was a difficult feeling to describe as he saw you sitting there, as if he was on the day of his Overblot again, staring back at your hopeless face.

He slowly approached you, as if not to scare you, before draping his jacket gently over your shoulders. His hands weren't shaking as they reached out to your own, but his heart was. His palm held your own hands, before bending his head lower than yours to kiss it. "YN… Take your time. I'll be here as long as you need me."

With Riddle next to you, your breathing steadied, as you tried to recall what happened. "It was like that day again," You began.

Riddle's blood ran cold. The grief that he caused you, it was unforgivable in his book. His grip tightened, still wary of the way that he hurt you that day. All the efforts you put in to save him… He wasn't sure if there was any other way to repay you for it.

"The ink held you once again," You continued, being careful with your words, knowing just exactly how Riddle might act in this instance. "I was scared. You reached out to me, to harm me, but that wasn't the scariest part."

It was the first words he said with anger. "What do you mean, YN?! Hurting you is my own nightmare, how could you think-"

"What if I lost you again?"

Those words caused him to clam up. He hadn't thought about it, but you both were fools, having a weakness for each other so dearly. You were right, though. You were always right. He knew, if he ever succumbed to the ink with his life, the one to carry the ache the most would be you, as you carried on his memory with a broken heart.

He'd never let that scenario happen.

Riddle Rosehearts swears on it, as the Queen of Hearts.

"To you, YN," He leaned his forehead to your shoulders, his voice low and in a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear him. "To you, the firs rule of the Queen of Hearts will be to never make you shed a tear."

Kalim Al-Asim

Of course Kalim would cause a ruckus, seeing as how he witnessed the blankets and pillows fly off the bed when you woke up from your slumber. Usually, your nights ended with loving cuddles with Kalim, but this time you went to bed alone since one of the Dorm Leader meetings dragged on.

His first course of action was to have you in his arms, pulling you as close to his body as possible. His lips were drawn to you, kissing the tears that so carelessly fall from your eyes. They didn't belong there, he thought, as he kissing away a tear by the corner of your mouth.

The butterfly kisses made you relax into Kalim, slowing your breaths down as you placed your head under Kalim's chin. Your nightgown was patted down by one of Kalim's hands, the warmth on your thighs calming you down.

"There's my desert lotus," He called out to you, feeling your head nudge into his collarbone. "There's no need to speak if you don't want to."

You finally met your gaze to Kalim, your head shaking from side to side. "I promised to never keep secrets from you," You reached for his hand, knowing how much that promise meant to him. "I don't have any plans to break that anytime soon."

He was attentive, silent the entire time as you explained, but there was no denying the silent tears that fell from his cheek. It was horrific in his memory, not being able to reach out to you and only harming you whenever he got closer. There was no denying that the one who was hurt the most was you, yet Kalim wasn't sure how to fix it.

"I couldn't help but think," You hesitated to say your next few words. "What if I can't save you again? What if it was my fault that I lost you-"

His hands reached to grip your shoulders, pulling you into a tight embrace. Not a word was exchanged between you two, as you felt Kalim's tears on your shirt. You let his hold you, as did you. In silence, you held one another, both frightened by the aspect you presented.

Your beloved Kalim met his gaze to you again, his eyes puffy and reddened by his crying. "YN… YN please don't say that," He begged. "I don't want to harm you again, I never want to hurt you…"

"But-"

No retort came from you.

"No, not even the ink, will we be torn apart. It is my vow for life, my desert lotus."

Jamil Viper

He was quick to react, quick to have you in his arms as he cuddled you into his chest. Your body was shaking, your sobs choked with gasps for air as your tears soaked the sheets below you in an uneven pattern, your mind replaying the scene you last saw over and over again in your head.

"Match my breathing, YN."

Jamil's voice snapped you out of your trance, as he guided your head to press gently against his chest. There you felt the soft thump of his heartbeat, a rhythm that sent a wave of calm throughout your body. The gentle heave of his chest against your frantic one slowly matched to each other, soon falling in melody with one another.

Jamil's agile fingers reached the flesh of your cheek, swiping away the hot rivulets of tears that made tracks on your skin. His expression, one that was typically sour or sly in nature, was fearful as the day the ink took him, where he witnessed and felt the backlash of harming you. It was a feeling he was disgusted by, but with the way you looked, it's as if that day occurred again.

"He was in your dreams, wasn't he?" He murmured into your skin, as his head was on your lap. It comforted you as much as it comforted him, besides that, he could look at you much easier.

You nodded, hesitant to explain what that version of Jamil did to you. "He… He told me he was going to come again."

"Like hell he will. Like I'll fall for that ink again."

"Jamil, but what if you do?" Your anxious thoughts ran through you. "How can I be strong for you when I fear for you life?"

"Dammit!" He cursed, his head pressing into your lap. "Damn that ink, YN! If it comes for me again…"

He sat up, his thoughts racing through his head. Your hand reached out to him, clasping to his own. Hand in hand, you both found solace in one another, unsure of what's to come. Jamil himself, he knew that he wouldn't be able to overpower the ink, but what he could do was outsmart it.

"If I ever become a part of that ink again… You'll have to stop loving me to stop me," He said, his tone serious.

"You always think of the impossible, Jamil…" You smiled through your tears.

"I will," He admitted, pressing his lips to yours as if to comfort you. "But, if it means cheating natural law, cheating the ink or cheating death itself, I'll be by your side to prove that I mean it."

Azul Ashengrotto

He noticed it right away, even before you woke up. He was sitting right next to you, a book in his hands, reviewing how his contracts went. Your sudden awakening almost threw him off the bed, but luckily, he held on as best as he could. You didn't immediately burst into tears, noticing that Azul was on the floor. The silly mishaps of readjusting himself and you apologising made you forget what happened just for a moment, until Azul asked you.

"What startled you, Angelfish?"

You shied away, now finding it embarrassing to discuss about the thoughts that haunted you right after such a scenario. "Can we… take a bath?"

He hummed lowly, agreeing to it. The mer-octopus usually intiated taking long baths together to make up for quality time, or simply calm his nerves down being around you and the water. It was not a strange notion for you to initiate it, but it was a rare occurance.

It was one of the moments he was willing to be vulnerable to you. There, in his merform, sharing the tub with you. The bath was not too cold, and you settled in between three of his mutiple tentacles. He kept any notions of shyness away for now, seeing as how your chest heaved with thoughts of panic as you collected yourself.

"I dreamed that it happened to you again," You admitted. There was no use beating around the bush with Azul. He'd eventually find out, but he had no need to, since you promised that you'd be honest with him at all times. You heard a sigh from your boyfriend, finding one of his tentacles starting to wrap around one of your arms, slinking to your wrist.

"It being the Overblot," You continued. The tentacles that held you became tense, but Azul is one that's reluctant to hurt you.

Azul finally opened his mouth. "Did… Did I hurt you?"

You nodded, turning to meet your gaze to your Azul, who's expression winced, and one that began to flood with regret as you told him. His sky blue eyes clouded over, as he tried to find the words to say. "Where did I touch you?"

Your hands ran over your naked skin, before taking one of his tentacles to touch the base of your neck. A choked sob came from Azul, his tears clouding his vision as he whispered his sorries, curling away his tentacles but you kept them in place. "Azul… I trust you. Touch me, it's alright."

He did as you said. "The trust Angelfish… it's the very kind that saved me."

Idia Shroud

He was prone to late night gaming, but this was the first time he abandoned his online game. Luckily, no one else was playing with him, so it was easy for his to abandon it. Of course he was unsure how to comfort you, he was frightened that he'd scare you even more. Calling out your name wasn't as effective as he thought the first time around, so he called it once more, his pale hands touching yours instead.

The warmth of his hair evaporated any hot tears that dared to trickle down, leaving the tracks that they once tread. What Idia didn't expect was to have his loved one tackle him to the bed, both falling to the mattress with a thump. Thank goodness he requested for the best sheets, otherwise he'd be much more worried about how you injured yourself.

He said nothing, as he felt his cheeks bloom pink with how willing you cuddled into his chest. Of course he was curious about what you went through, but he more so was curious what brought such an affectionate self out of you.

"You're here…" You mumbled, taking in the scent of Idia's jacket, holding him tighter. "Oh thank Great Seven you're still here Idia…"

His hands reached to pat your head. "I… I was still playing my game YN. I never left," He said, his confusion growing further. Now to him, this was puzzling. You were someone who always smiled at him, so for you to break down in tears was already a big concern. Unless…

He was sharp enough to know what came out of your nightmare. "Was it my Overblot?"

The nod from you that ruffled his shirt was all it took.

"I promised you that I'd never think of using the ink," He reconfirmed it with you. "That time was the first and last of it."

He listened to what you had to say, your fear of losing him again and your fear of the backlash he'd face once again in the aftermath of the Overblot. Your fear of him loosing his sanity, your fear of not being able to see him again… he almost felt guilty that your fear was caused by him.

"Maybe if it were only the two of us…" He thought aloud. "With Ortho… Then that stupid ink won't ruin everything."

"Idia, you-"

He cut you off once more. "But my parents might be worried if I bring you back just like this, so… marry me YN. You can live with me, away from everyone."

Leona Kingscholar

Having just returned from practice, of course he thought that someone came in and attacked. He ran up to you, checking for injuries. Upon inspection, the only injuries he could trace was to your psyche itself, as you clung to Leona in fear for the nightmare coming true.

He let you nuzzle against him, only having to use one hand to lift you close to him as you hung onto him tight, arms around his neck as he arranged the pillows and blankets in a circle, tossing a few of his strewn about clothes onto the mess. Despite your tight grip to his neck, it was easy for someone like him to toss you to the bed, in the impromptu nest that he made with you in the middle.

You sat upright, taking in the new surrounding slowly as Leona crept up to you, his body curling as he rested against the mattress. As if it was upon instinct, you followed suit, curling up to Leona as your lion rested with you in the nest he made.

Of course he wasn't going to touch you in that sort of way. His makeshift nest was meant to be comforting, and at least it brought down your breathing levels to normal. Your hyperventilating stopped, as you looked up at your lion, who was deftly wiping away tears from your cheek with his other arm supporting his head to look down on you.

He hummed as you reached a hand to him, rubbing one of his ears, causing your lion to purr for you. It was a gentle rumble of a purr, but the sounds steadied your beating heart. You let Leona play with your hair, as you began the entire tale.

"I saw you join hands with the ink again," You started. It was just the beginning, but Leona felt his hairs stand up. If anything, he wished to erase that moment from ever occurring. His feelings from that event, he wasn't sure if they were truly gone, but somehow you made it all better.

"It was you in an Overblot, and I couldn't do anything to stop you," You continued, gripping the sheets tighter. "What… what if it really happens again Leona? What if you can't come back to me?"

He hated it. He hated how logical you were in these moments. He huffed, almost in a growl, pushing you into the bed as he further soothed you. "Don't think about it Herbivore. Can't dream about it if I'm here."

You gave in, slowly but surely falling into slumber again, your chest rising and falling as Leona adjusted your sleeping position. In his heart, Leona never knew what to say to you, because you were always right. His feelings of inferiority never went away, instead kept buried deep inside as his care for you took over. It was for the second time in his life, Leona felt hopeless.

He pulled you into his chest, before looking at the sky above from the window in his room.

"Great Seven, I pray you don't take me away from her. I pray that my love for her trumps all my reckless thoughts…"

Vil Schoenheit

He was utterly horrified, the scream causing him to drop his eyebrow pencil. Seeing that it was you jolting from a nightmare, he left his vanity, hurrying to tie his robe as he took a good look at you. He kicked off his slippers, sitting next to you on the bed, holding your hand in his.

"Oh, oh…" He muttered, taking a good look at you, wiping away your tears with his handkerchief. "My darling's scared…"

"Vil," You cried out, your voice cracking as you remembered the nightmare of him. The way he cared for you, was almost the same way his Overblot self did. Your reaction to it was completely different however, as in the nightmare you remembered the feeling of wanting to puke as the Overblot version of Vil cooed over you.

Your own Vil soothe your worries, as a garden with the sweet scent of his perfume, and the gentle touch of his fingers to yours. His voice itself was a melody that healed your ears from the screeching nightmare, as you felt his embrace.

He stopped wiping your tears the moment you calmed down. He kept it away, shifting his full weight on the bed to meet you face to face. One hand clutched the middle of his robe, as the other hand rubbed circles into your hand, his face full of concern.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, darling?"

You weren't sure to tell the truth to him.

Vil was someone you knew that hated that version of him. You've seen the way he tore himself apart because of it. It was not a thing you could bring up so easily around Vil, because for as much as the nightmare hurt you in your dreams, you were unsure if you could bring yourself to hurt Vil in reality.

Your silence only enhanced the worry from your boyfriend, as he thought the nightmare caught you in a trance once again. He rushed out of the bed, to get the tea that he steeped for his own consumption. Your hands shook as you accepted the cup, taking a sip.

He asked again, and was met with your refusal. Sitting next to you on the bed, he could only give you his soft smile as he helped you take a drink of the tea.

"I'll wait until you're ready, my sweet potato," He said, smiling after pecking your cheek. "For now, rest with me, love."

[4:03 am] - IWAIZUMI

Someone’s knocking on the door at an obnoxiously fast pace. It rings in your ears as your eyelids crack open. You twist in your sheets to check the time on your phone.

4:03 am.

Your eyebrows knit together in annoyance as you stuff your face in a pillow, deciding to ignore the knocking.

A couple of minutes go by.

It doesn’t stop.

Sitting up in your bed, you try to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you stumble out of your sheets and shuffle towards the door.

Sleep and tiredness still lingered in thoughts as you looked into the peephole.

A sharp breath of air enters your lungs, you’re wide awake now.

A familiar ache began to return to your chest and you’re unsure if your heart’s heavy with dread or hope. You stare at the closed door in front of you, the knocking has stopped but you didn’t need to check to know that he was still there.

With shaky hands, you reach for the door handle and slowly turn it open. The harsh glow emitting from the white lights in the lobby made you wince as your vision readjusted itself.

He’s standing before you, taller, more defined and skin tanner than you remembered.

You gulp thickly, unsure of what to say or do in this situation. It’s been a little bit over a year since iwaizumi left you for California, leaving you to pick up the remnants of your broken heart, alone. You can’t exactly trace back to when his love for you began to lag behind his love for volleyball.

Nevertheless, you had supported him. Excusing missed dinner after dinner, excusing the lack of ‘i love yous’ and goodnight kisses and excusing the empty space in your bed. You had supported him until you simply couldn’t anymore. The night you had finally announced your grievances was the night he announced that he would be leaving for California and the night he walked out of your door with a tear-stained face.

One year later and here he is again, fists clenched to his sides and chest tight as if he’s holding his breath. You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.

“It wasn’t worth it,”

You blink and a couple of beats pass in silence so he continues as if to fill in the blanks.

“California,” he pauses, “it wasn’t worth it,”

Your eyebrows knit together as a result of multiple emotions, primarily anger and confusion.

“What?” it comes out on edge and he winces slightly.

He visibly takes in a deep breath and there’s a slight tremble in his lower lip, “California wasn’t worth leaving you,”

There’s a pause, “volleyball wasn’t worth leaving you.”

Your eyes blow wide and a lump begins to build its way up your throat. The feeling of an old wound reopening consumes you.

You want to ask why but your voice fails you.

You want to ask so many questions but your voice fails you.

Your breathing stutters, he notices as you grit your teeth. You shift your gaze from the floor to him and he visibly swallows.

The look you give him is a pained one. A mix of anger and hurt.

“Why now?” you pause, “why after all this time?”

He doesn’t answer your question though, “I never stopped loving you,”

Your heart drops to your stomach at the time wasted wallowing in heartbreak, at the time wasted sobbing in your bed and at the time wasted missing him.

You bury the face in your hands, “stop,” you whisper and it makes his heart twist horribly in his chest.

He tentatively reaches for the hands hiding your face and gently moves them away.

You let him.

His eyes are glassy when you look at him and that’s when you notice the backpack resting by his feet. He answers your question for you.

“I came here straight from the airport,” he whispers sheepishly.

You blink, “why did you come back?”

Your heartbeat accelerates as the words leave your tongue and as he responds, he looks at ease as if a weight was released off of his shoulders.

“For you,”

Your eyes begin to turn glassy as you nibble at your lower lip, a part of you wants to tell him to get out, to go back to California and spare you the heartache but the wiser part of you knows that deep down that isn’t what you want.

His eyes are soft as he looks at you. Glassy, tired but soft and there’s a familiar glint in his eye.

A glint that meant taking you to brunch and feathering you with kisses, a glint you never thought you’d see again. A glint that meant ‘i love you’.

So you decide to take a leap of faith and move a step closer and so does he.

It’s 4 am in the morning, the sun isn’t out yet and your neighbours are asleep. You have work in a couple of hours and you’re in a crinkled shirt that plops over your entire figure. You’re sure you look like a disaster, hair all over the place but iwaizumi doesn’t seem to care as you pull him in by the collar of his shirt, pressing his lips against yours.

“I never stopped loving you either.”

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fluff!!! little mentions to bakugou's past as a bully :/ but he's now very much in love with you <3

the best way to let bakugou katsuki know that you’re mad at him is by refusing to hold his hand. 

handholding is one of bakugou’s all time favourite affections. although subtle, it’s grounding. he likes to know that you’re safe by holding you close to him, and he has the chance to pull you away from danger the moment it happens. also, to know that you trust him to keep you safe is another bonus.

he is destruction’s incarnate and it is from his hands that danger is initiated: hands that have threatened and bullied many- good and bad alike. 

hands that have also pushed you into a corner when you were younger for defending a vulnerable midoriya from any more harm. 

hands that have sparked explosions in your face during many school festivals as he sparked threats to match.

hands that gradually, but surely, learnt how to chase after you longingly.

after months- years of maturing and apologising for his stupidity, bakugou thinks he is the luckiest man in the world to be able to hold you with the same hands that sparked fear during his youth. he thinks he is the luckiest man in the world because you have trusted him to protect your heart in his very hands. similarly, you openly cherish his with your two palms and despite how it bleeds with love for you, you have never once let it break.

he also thinks he is unfortunate that you’re not compassionate enough to be against torturing him when he fucks up.

and the best way to show that you still have not forgiven him is by revoking his hand holding privileges.

bakugou hates it when there’s tension between you two and despises it even more when you have to pretend like nothing is wrong when in fact, everything is wrong. you’re mad at him for some shit he said last night and now you don’t want to hold his hand, let alone look at him, and he wants to crumble. 

instead of finding a chance to talk, you both had to hang out with sero, kaminari, kirishima and mina as part of your obligatory monthly meetup and it was very obvious that something was off between you and bakugou. 

when a merciless gust of wind hits, bakugou sees this as his moment to react. as goosebumps emerge on your exposed skin and you audibly shiver from the cold, it earns you a fair share of concerned looks.

“you okay, y/n?” kirishima asks and you nod, shrugging up your shoulders as a futile attempt to shield yourself from the frostbite. from the corner of your eye, your boyfriend is already shrugging off his jacket, keeping his sassy muttering to a minimum. 

“just cold, thanks for asking,” you murmur, extending your palm to anyone in the group, “can someone hold my hand?” 

bakugo immediately reaches for you, grumbling an ‘i’ll hold your hand’ but you retract from him with a dirty glare before he could even touch you. his jaw drops and his crimson eyes become windows to how betrayed he’s feeling, and even more so when you utter the next words:

“can someone else hold my hand?” 

“but i’m your boyfriend?” he all but screams, earning a few snickers from your friends. they knew this dance all too well, sero and denki hissing ‘roasted’ at the blond. 

mina’s the only one brave enough to challenge bakugou, “i’ll hold your hand, y/n!”

she’s almost successful too if it weren’t for small explosions stopping just in front of her face as bakugou glares at her with the ugliest (affectionately) expression you have ever seen. no one can resist laughing when he yells out a ‘touch y/n and you die, racoon eyes!’ before snatching your hand into his; his grip far too tight for you to even try and wrestle out of it.

“yeah, laugh all you want extras! at least i get to hold y/n’s hand, dipshits!” 

“y/n’s got two hands though, can i hold your other one?” denki asks, feigning ignorance to the daggers bakugou was sending him and before you could giggle out a ‘sure!’, bakugou is lunging forward and shielding you from the electric blond. 

“none of you are worthy, go away morons!”

your stomach is cramping at this point, your throat is begging for you to stop laughing, and your cheeks are so very sore that it hurts. your laughter has been mixed with the rest of the groups- with the exception of bakugou who is pouting with irritation laced deeply in his expression, but so long as he gets to see you smiling at him rather than frowning, he doesn’t really mind.

“whatever, laugh all you want,” he mutters before stuffing your hands into his pockets, where he can keep them warm. the remainder of the squad continues forward, knowing to leave you two alone.

his thumb is soothingly rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he shares his warmth with you. when bakugou katsuki meets your eyes, all the tension from last night dwindles away as he visibly relaxes, relieved that you’re at least allowing him to hold your hand again. 

“we are okay, right?” he asks tentatively.

you shrug playfully, “i mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to say yes, do i?” 

his next comment is quick, passive, but heavy in its meaning, “you do.”

you soften at his vulnerability, squeezing his hand before reassuring him that “we’re okay, katsuki, and we will be for a long time.”

hello hello everyone!! thank you for reading, if you enjoyed the fic PLEASEEEE reblog!!! even if you don’t think it’ll do much, reblogs is how tumblr accounts function. you don’t even have to leave a message bc i appreciate every single interaction nonetheless.

hope you like my writing and i hope to see you around!!

- earth