she devoted her life looking for him

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 


The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  

The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 

The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

A few reasons why Voldemort was clearly gay for Snape
  • Everyone in Voldemort inner circle distrusted Snape, but Voldemort still kept him by his side even though he’d kill others just because they dared worry about him
  • Bellatrix was extremely devoted to Voldemort and yet, he basically had Snape as his Right Hand Man
  • Voldemort was patient with Snape
  • No matter how many people Voldemort had around him, he’d always call for Snape
  • Snape asked Voldemort not to kill Lily - a muggleborn - and Voldemort actually agreed to spare her life. He told her she didn’t have to die - again, because of Snape - and only killed her when she refused to get out of his way. 
  • He actually looked hurt when he killed Snape
woman in doubt

little jon/sansa fic, for how i imagine their reunion might be like. or a fic that shows jon and sansa’s relationship through dany’s eyes.

When Daenerys finally arrives in the North, she finds Winterfell sorely disappointing.

It’s dark, looming towers surrounded by black trees and ice give an aura of unforgiving chill and rigidness. When she says as much to Jon Snow, he gives her a short bark of laughter. “Yes, your Grace, it is so different from the warmth and comfort of Dragonstone, wouldn’t you say?”

To her side, Tyrion attempts (and then fails) to muffle a snicker and she shoots him a dark glare.

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p3/p5 family au info thing

first and foremost, i’d just like to reiterate that this is an au so i can do whatever i want with it, don’t go militant on me for having fun pls thanks 

alright so i woke up with like 409386093 asks about the parents dying [niijima parents’ death isn’t a spoiler but there are p3p spoilers in here so watch out :0….]  and i suppose this is needed shdfjfgkhfjal i’m laughing so hard- so the range of questions i got are “YOU’RE GOING TO KILL THEM OFF?” “THEY’RE GOING TO DIE” “THIS MEANS THEY’RE DEAD” and

OKAY SO, i originally made this au so i can have them both alive and happy so, it doesn’t really follow p5verse that much. i didn’t really think too deep about this au to ponder about how they’ll die because i just really wanted to have an akiham family to play with LOL (i like to call this branch “please save me from p3p depression”)

however, after some development with friends, it got a little bit more angsty and this is where it starts to follow p5verse more. so back to the original p5 plot: yes, both parents will die like how p5 has told. (i call this branch “Depression Setting In” GKSGLSKG:AL;)

so basically:

  • first branch = lighthearted; “No Angst Allowed, Good Time Only”
  • second branch = angsty, bittersweet; “lms if u love eating shit and dying”

i like both branches tho so i will most likely draw for both sometimes! mostly just the first branch tho bc i wanna run away from depression pls so i apologize in advance if i ever confuse you all with that HAHA so you can interpret my drawings with whichever branch you prefer: if you love being in post-p3p/p5 canon denial bliss or eating shit and dying, it’s up to you my dude

for the second branch, to answer the questions:
1) “how will hamuko die?”

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Touch // Spencer Reid

The Senses: Hearing / Taste 

A/N: Just a short little piece written at 4 am. I’ve been thinking about physical affection a lot lately. I apologize for any typos or for how shitty this turns out to actually be once I wake up tomorrow and actually fully process what I’ve written.

Originally posted by sweetg

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I need a place to hide Kol Mikaelson x reader oneshot

Originally posted by ipusheveryoneaway

author: Fandomcollector00

word count: 1886

warnings none

authors note: I know this is a little different from what I write, but honestly I am a part of so many fandoms It is hard to keep up, and the Originals is one of them and Kol… god I love him. So I hope you like it if, not I had to write it anyways I needed some Kol fluff in my life after watching the Originals in one day. Enjoy :)

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I really want jack to have a boyfriend, for the following reasons: 

1) he just looks like he needs a boyfriend
2) Anne is the love of his life and he’ll be whatever she needs him to be–and she needs him to be her partner, not her husband
3) but Jack is SUCH HUSBAND MATERIAL. Like, he is going to be Anne’s life partner until they die, and he’ll be devoted to her until they die, but he also needs someone to want him–the way Anne wants Max, the want that’s not also tangled up in need. 
4) Jack clearly has enough women in his romantic life, and I feel strongly that a boyfriend would balance out his romantic and sexual entanglements with his life partner, her wife, and maybe their girlfriend, depending on what happens with Mary Read
5) Jack is just. DEFINITELY queer. 


I really want Jack to have THIS boyfriend in fucking particular: 

for the following reasons: 

1) “Godspeed, Charles.” 
“Fuck you, Jack.” 

2) “Charles Vane’s sacrifice is in that box. If your man is unsuccessful in seeing to his rescue, Charles Vane’s death is in that box.” *stares with red eyes at the chest full of treasure he himself nearly died for, having locked it up and thrown away the goddamn key* 

3) “I knew how you felt about him,” Anne says urgently, trying to stop Jack from getting himself killed trying to honor Charles’s fucking memory. Honestly, all of Jack’s idolization/devotion for the man, how much he cared about what Charles thought about him.

4) Charles got himself captured saving Jack, wrenching with his bare fucking hands at Jack’s shackles, so we could all see the muscles rippling in his arms. 

5) Charles is a Romantic who has finally figured out that he and Eleanor are Never Ever Getting Back Together–and he visibly flounders around trying to covertly figure out what to do with his heart. Like, should he die for Teach? Teach wants him to be his son! That’s nice! Or should he die for Flint? Flint wants him around, and Flint has a lost cause! OR WAIT—he should die for Jack and Anne, because Jack and Anne totally saved his life that time when everybody else was going to betray him, and also he’s known Jack and Anne the longest. Yes. He’ll die for Jack and Anne. (ME: CHARLES. Did you ever maybe consider kissing one of these people and seeing if that would also work to soothe the Big Romantic Tempest happening in your chest.CHARLES: No.) Anyway, Charles ALSO needs a boyfriend, and would require like two (2) entire seconds of persuasion before Romantically devoting himself to, like. The first person who asked. 

6) So why not Jack


In the ambush where they rescue Jack, Anne Bonny shoots Woodes Rogers point-blank in the chest. Everything else falls naturally into place. 

Friday Heathen prompt games

I love Do I Wanna Know from Artic Monkeys. Even though, the song is hot as hell, I choose to write a fluffy oneshot. The story takes place after almost a year of Ivar and Emer’s marriage. I hope my sister wives will like it. I love you all.

Tag: @heathen-army

Crawling Back To You

He fought with all his strength not to get back. His efforts proved useless. Ivar knew he was wrong as soon as the words left his mouth. He had hurt her. The pain in her eyes was unbearable. But to lose her would be worst. He could deal with Emer hating him, but to live without her was unthinkable. He would be hollow, no purpose beyond bring pain to others.

“I don’t want this child!”, he said those words with a certainty in his voice. But he knew that deep inside it was everything he had ever wanted. A boy with her eyes, those eyes that always made Ivar vulnerable. A girl whose hair was kissed by the fire as his beloved.

She didn’t cry, at least not in front of him. But she fought. As brave as Frigga to protect the little one inside her.

“I’ll not get rid of a blessing! Can’t you see how blessed we are? It’s a gift from God, from your Gods too. You’re selfish. And you’re offending me. This is our child, you should be proud of the life growing inside me.”

Ivar groaned in response, “Selfish? Am I selfish? You’re selfish. Can’t you see. What will I do if I lose you? This child might be as twisted as I am. It’s decided, you won’t have this baby. What makes you think your God would bless me?”

Emer replied, “If you don’t want our child, I’m leaving.”

This said, Emer prepared her departure. She was going to the farm he had given her as a morning gift.  It’s been a week since then. He waited for her to come back. But she could be as tenacious as him. It was painful not to have her warm and soft body against his chest in their bed. The sweet fragrance of her hair acting like balm against the aching in his bones during those nights in which his pain was excruciating. Her little hands holding his, while he embraced her by the waist.

The first gleam of morning rays flooding over her auburn hair, lighting every blade of grass, shining from each leaf in the fields. But the only green he cared about was the color of her sleepy eyes, looking at him every morning. She would open her eyes lazily, smiling in the process. Her hand going to his face, caressing his beard.

She could die giving birth, by a disease, of old age. They were fated to die. But they would live the days the norns have woven into their rope of destiny first. These thoughts in mind, he called Sigvard. Ivar would bring her back.



Emer felt so abandoned. When she noticed that she was not bleeding, the woman was overwhelmed with joy. They were going to be parents. Their love made in flesh. A girl or a boy with his dark hair, maybe even with those indigo blue eyes. Emer feared the baby would suffer from the same pain as Ivar. She would not lie she was terrified of bringing a life to this world only to suffer. She did not know how to bring the subject to Ivar. How was he going to react? Would he be delighted?

He only noticed the change in her appetite. Berries and apples were never enough. Ivar was always laughing while watching her eating so eagerly. Emer would raise her eyebrows in annoyance, struggling to words out of her full mouth. What only added to Ivar’s amusement. Her hunger for him increased too.

As soon as they were alone, she would push him onto the bed. Ivar would laugh with her impatience. Sometimes she would not even remove all their clothing. He never complained, loving watching her in charge. Their lovemaking has changed too. She was much more sensitive to his caresses than before, squirming with the slightest touch and becoming undone faster than usual, stiffening and moaning his name until her throat was dry. Then in the last weeks she was quieter than usual, avoiding his touch, going to bed before him. He could see she was worried about something. But whenever he inquired her, she would always give vague answers. He felt helpless, trying to help her without the knowledge of what was troubling her.

His answer came when in one night he held her by the waist, feeling a bulge that was uncommon. She tried to remove his hand in vain. It was how he discovered he was going to be a father.  


Her head was resting against the wooden tub, Astrid was caressing her already clean scalp. Emer felt so relaxed that was almost sleeping, her hand resting protectively on her growing belly. Astrid was not there anymore. Maybe little Ragnild needed her. She would finish her bath by herself.

When she felt a big hand against her stomach, she almost jumped from the water opening her eyes to find Ivar looking at her with devotion and regret. They said nothing, just kept staring deep into each other’s eyes. Ivar’s hands started caressing her belly that was hiding the life they were going to bring to the world. His eyes only leaving her face when Ivar felt a move against his fingers. He looked at Emer in confusion. She smiled at him, tears running down her cheeks. He could say they were not tears of sadness. Her hand covered his fingers and, this time together, they felt the life sparkling from inside her.


Trying her best to get control over her wobbly voice, Emer questioned him. “What are you doing here?”

Ivar lowered his head until their foreheads were touching and their eyes locked on one another, “I’ll always crawl back to you.”

mihosayuri  asked:

Fic prompt: "Will you look at me?"

Thank you SO MUCH for the prompt!!

It’s set right after Never Again and thank you so much, @bogwisdom for helping me. As always, I’m so grateful! 

It’s mostly angry angst with a tiny hint of hotness. Enjoy!

She walks tensely down the corridor to his basement office at the end of it, the sound of her heels announcing her arrival. She lingers for a second in front of his door, feeling a tight knot in her chest, before stepping in. He looks up. Disappointment. Failure. Rejection, and a wave of negative superlatives hit her like a stormy sea. All of it irrational, she knows that, but her head keeps going, and she continues, recalls his words from the last time they were standing here opposite each other, recites them like a little chant to keep her anger burning brightly.

You were just assigned. This work is my life.
Maybe it’s good that we get away from each other for a while.

She enters the room quietly and he goes on about Jerse as if she cares, as if she doesn’t know already, as if she wasn’t a part of it herself. He even has the audacity to crack a joke about tattoos, adding fuel to the fire. You arrogant man, she thinks. But she won’t let this get to her. She will accept this as she accepted his disbelief when she did in fact have a date. She will accept these things but he’ll have to accept that she won’t be there forever, that things end, flowers wither, and people move on. It’s the inevitable circle of life. In order for something to live, something must die. She is ready to let what little they have die.

They sit in front of each other. He in his seat behind his desk, she in the chair on the other side, the distance between them like a vast ocean ready to consume both of them. The silence is deafening and she looks up to meet his eyes but he doesn’t see her. She wants him to look up, not for his validation, nor his attention, but to see if he’s there, to see if it’s the same two eyes that had kept her here when sometimes she had wanted to leave. She wants to believe they can make it work, she wants to make it work, but not like this, and something’s got to give. She’s about to say something when he finally speaks. 

“All this… because I didn’t get you a desk?” he asks, clueless about everything that’s going on between them, making her think there’s nothing to be saved between them.

“Not everything is about you, Mulder. This is my life,” she says agitated, not regretting her tone, hoping he’ll get it and that he’ll wake up.

“Yes, but it’s-,” he says, not finishing his sentence, as it finally dawns on him that something’s wrong, which makes her more furious.

“What? It’s your life and not mine?” she counters, recalling their last conversation here when he had flat out told her how this work was his life as if she hadn’t devoted years of her life fighting for the truth too, as if she hadn’t lost just as much as he had. No, they are equal. At the end of the day, both of them have to go home with the same worries, the same hurt, the same guilt, the same fear, and the same loss.

“That’s not what I meant, Scully. You know that,” he grumbles, still not able to see what she desperately wants him to see.

“Do I?” she answers coldly, not afraid of how she may be perceived. There’s nothing to lose. He looks at her in agony and she looks back at him. She does not pity him. Frankly, she wants to hit him in the face, not to hurt him, but to see if he’ll come back.

It’s over. She doesn’t have anything left to say. She can’t reach someone who doesn’t want to be reached. One can only take so much. She gets up from the chair, runs her hands down the few creases on her skirt, and walks towards the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she turns around to stare at him. He looks tired, like he’s been sitting there since she left for Philly. For all she knows, he has been sitting there, as he’s never really gone. His mind always occupied with the next case before closing the manila folder of the previous one. She doesn’t blame him though. It’s how he is, how he will be, and after all he’s never tried to change her, not ever. Though he has never blamed her, he has taken her for granted, depended too much on her following him to the end of the world, thus making her forget about herself, but she has reached the end now, and it’s like she feared, without him.

Now he’s sitting there alone, staring at the little rose petal on the desk, withered and black.

“I’m done, Mulder,” she manages to say, surprised at how easy it is to say but how difficult it is to understand. And she leaves, before she can even begin to regret going, before she can stay long enough for her to change her mind, to protect herself from what he might say - or worse; the absence of words. No, she leaves. She wants to. Needs to. And little, hot tears slowly fill her eyes as she makes her way back down the corridor to the elevator going up, up to the everyday life of gray suits on grey pavements next to grey roads.

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There really isn’t a lot of Hylink out there, is there? I didn’t really know how to end this one. I had it planned up to a certain point, and then just kept writing until I approached what seemed like a place to end this oneshot. Enjoy!

Hylink (First Link / Hylia)

Pre- “Canon” Hyrule Historia

Word Count: 2355

The guardian of the world and deity worshiped by its people, Hylia the Goddess of the light, seldom had more than a few minutes of time to herself between her work. Absolutely devoted to the health and flourish of her world and its people, the Goddess rarely had time for herself. When she could spare a few minutes of her time, however, she spent it wisely. In the evenings that she had off, after a day of intense fortification of the army and bringing good fortune to the world through her blessings, she would make her way to the spring in the woods of Faron and watch the sunset. And beside her would be Link.

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chaos pt. 1

no one asked for this but me being me did it anyway. because motivation happens and the Writing Voice must be listened to. ill probably do multiple parts, if anybody reads it at all. so hey. let me know. dont be shy. 

is a fic taking place after a movie that hasnt yet been released weird? yes. will it be completely discounted by the actual movie when it comes out? probably. do i care? no.

peter parker au in which the reader makes a deal for his life during Infinity War

part 1/?

word count: 1.4k


6 months ago Thanos came to earth and brought destruction with him. 6 months ago, someone else came down with him. 6 months ago, you made a deal to save the life of Peter Parker.

6 months ago, he went missing.

You’ve kept what you did a secret. You cried with May, gave the police tons of statements that included almost the whole truth, mourned with Ned and Michelle.

Because while you’re the reason Peter isn’t dead, you’re the reason he’s gone. Somehow, someway, you missed the fine-print on the contract you never saw, and it gave the woman who took him the power to take him away.

He’s alive. You know he is. But you can’t tell anyone how you know.

It’s been six months. And the guilt is eating at you. Maybe, if you told someone, they could find him. Maybe there’s something they could do. Maybe is a lot better than the nothing that’s happening right now.

It is that which brings you to the Avengers building tonight, tapping your feet anxiously as you wait for the elevator to let you out.

One night a week, everyone gathers to watch some movie that takes them ages to agree on. You used to come with Peter, but after the battle, and after he disappeared, you stopped coming to the complex at all.

You haven’t been back here since.

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Since the Angara are pretty open in terms of emotions I can imagine how perplexed they would be over how humans would use flowers to convey hidden meanings to their lovers/family/enemies. 

Jaal would ask who decided what meant what, when it started, and why ‘tip toe’ around your affections for another? He’d spend an eternity figuring out the various kinds of flowers and their meanings, somehow roping Vetra into snagging a few flowers brought over from the milky way. Secretly whenever Ryder has an awful stressful day and she walks into her room- tons of flowers nestled neatly into little vases (blame Lexi who thought it best if they were in vases to keep them alive a little longer) all over her desk and nightstand. Some are known to her. Red roses: passionate love, Asters: contentment, Yellow Tulips: Hopelessly in love.

And then there are the odd ones. Flowers and plants unknown to even humans. Vivid in color and alien in nature similar to the Angara. When she sees Jaal next she asks him about the strange flowers in her room. Warmly Jaal is all too eager to tell her about them, about how each one represents a deeper part of oneself- each petal signaling a year of one’s life in motion. The pain, the hope, the devotion, the courage, youth, stubbornness, and pure joy she brings to him. He then explains to her his people don’t have meanings for each flower like humans do but those flowers- vivid blues and pale white, those called to him and in turn reminded him of her. And the longer he looked at each petal, each speckle and vein running through them, he could see everything he loved about her in them.

10 LGBTQA+ reads to pick up in 2017

1. Our Own Private Universe—Robin Talley

This stunning novel from Robin Talley drops at the end of January, and follows fifteen-year-old Aki as she explores her sexuality. She’s always known she was bisexual, but so far has only dated guys. When she goes on a four-week youth mission trip to Mexico with her BFF, her mind isn’t on dating, but then she meets Christa and everything changes. This book will wrap itself around your heart and squeeze until you are left with nothing but gooey feels.  

2. History Is All You Left Me—Adam Silvera

When Griffin’s first love and ex-boyfriend Theo dies in a tragic drowning accident, his world is flipped upside down. Even though Theo had moved on—heading to college in California and seeing someone new, a guy named Jackson—Griffin had always imagined they’d find their way back to each other. This book explores grief and its effect on Griffin’s OCD…and what happens when the only person who could possibly understand you is the person who stole away your ex.

3. Dead Little Mean Girl—Eva Darrows

What really makes a mean girl tick? Quinn Littleton was a skinny blonde social terrorist in stilettos, and now she’s dead. Proud geek girl Emma had been enjoying a quiet life playing video games and staying off the radar until her mom announced she was happily moving in with Quinn’s mom…and Emma’s new nightmare of a stepsister. Now that Quinn is dead, Emma is finding out there was more to Quinn than was obvious at first bite. Eva Darrows busts stereotypes in this novel, including what the traditional family looks like. Look for it on bookshelves March 28.

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Submission: Idk what to call this but it happened after reading As Is The Sea Marvelous and A Thrill Of Joy Prophetic so yeah. Sorry.

Hashirama had been only slightly worried Madara wouldn’t show up to sign the peace treaty. In order to ensure nothing went wrong, he’d ordered Tobirama to stay away so Madara wouldn’t go ballistic - he didn’t want the Uchiha declaring that the war was back on. (At one point he considered offering Tobirama up as a sacrifice of sorts as penance for Izuna’s death, but knew that the fallout of Touka’s resulting rage would be potentially fatal.)
When Madara did show up, it was with a ragged but very much alive Izuna in tow, and Hashirama thanked the gods that the younger Uchiha had survived. However, neither of them looked particularly pleased.
“Senju. Would you mind explaining why I found your brother unconscious and bleeding on the bank of the Naka outside the Uchiha clan’s camp this morning? It appears he tried to jump to his death, though he was less than successful if that was his goal. At the moment, one of our healers is seeing to him, but in his delirious rambling he said something along the lines of destructive weapons not being needed during peace time, and he apparently was referring to himself. What. Did. You. DO.”
The Senju leader stared at Madara, uncomprehending. “You… didn’t take the opportunity to kill him.”
Izuna lunged at him, snarling. “What monsters do you take us for, to assume we’d murder the brother of the man we planned to ally ourselves with?! Do you truly think us so dishonorable?!”
With an ease that spoke of practice, Madara hooked an arm around Izuna’s torso, restraining the younger Uchiha from going for Hashirama’s throat with his teeth. His expression said that if Hashirama’s answer was unsatisfactory though, he would let Izuna rip him apart. “You seem disappointed that we didn’t kill him. Has your brother done something to be declared outcast from the Senju? If so, I want to know what’s worse than the ability to enslave the dead, because that would take a truly twisted mind even for a shinobi.”
Hashirama eyed both Uchiha as one might a sleeping venomous snake. “I believed he had killed Izuna-san, and had cost us the chance for peace because of it. He is not officially outcast, but we were far from being on speaking terms. His actions could have resulted in a continuation of a war that has gone on too long.”
The elder Uchiha brother gave him a look that was a mixture of disgust and disappointment. “The war will not continue, so long as none of your clansmen attack my people, but there will be no alliance and no village. Also, you’re not getting Tobirama back even once he wakes, because you who would value a former enemy’s favor over your own devoted brother’s life clearly do not deserve him.”
With that, Madara turned and stalked out, his own brother close at his heels. From where she sat, Mito gave her husband a thinly veiled glare, and wondered who would be the best replacement head for the Senju clan.


(This is just my opinion; all are respected. No shipping wars, please!!!)

Ships I Love

  • Jatherine (Jack Kelly and Katherine from Newsies). Omg my OTP!!! There’s so much chemistry for a somewhat trite romance trope (girl annoyed by boy falls in love with him). She teaches him to let go of a dream that’s nothing more than a dream that drives him to make bad decisions while he gives her a platform to speak up against injustice. They deal in tongue and cheek while discovering that their dreams (his Santa Fe and her fame as a female journalist) are, while not less important, must be balanced with love and sacrifice. Bonus points if you racebend them (my fave is Chinese Jack. I usually don’t do Katherine, but if I did, she’d be Polynesian or African American.)
  • Eugenzel (Rapunzel and Eugene from Tangled). Another one of my faves. It’s sassy, sweet, and pretty innocent. A hardened thief falls in love with a sheltered, but still strong woman. A recurring thing I notice w/ my fave ships is that they all include the realization, or end, of a dream. Eugene gets Rapunzel’s dream to come true while realizing that his dream of wealth is a delusion; loving her finally gets him to let go of that. For Rapunzel, Eugene allows her to see the world and that the world isn’t what it seems. The loving mother she knew turns out to be an abusive abuser who could care less about her feelings while he, a petty thief, ends up sacrificing his life to give her freedom. The death part drove it in for me.
  • Percabeth (Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase from Rick Riordan) This one is one of the more realistic ships. It takes years to develop; they go from annoyed partners on a road trip/quest to passionate teenagers w/ a real connection. They too are quite sassy with one another (Seaweed Brain, anyone?), but the devotion goes so far that they fall into Tartarus together!!! Percy helps Annabeth deal with Luke’s betrayal and Athena’s disappointment while she goes to the ends of the earth looking for him and trying to get back his memory. They have genuine chemistry, from fights to teasing to love, and it’s very touching in a world where gods callously cast aside mortals and lovers.
  • FactPoet? (Natasha and Daniel from The Sun is Also a Star; I just made up that name, if there’s one out there let me know) This one is somewhat of a satire of love at first sight, but it does it so passionately and poetically that you realize that all why mocking the idea to an extent, it actually affirms it. Does that make any sense? Okay, Natasha, a frustrated Jamaican American aspiring scientist who is getting deporting thanks to her equally trapped father spilling the beans while drunk, meets Daniel, a Korean American poet trying to dodge his parents’ demands that he go to college and become a rich doctor all while having a rude, selfish older brother who actually doesn’t turn out to be good in the end. I just love the contrast between fact and feeling; the characters fall in love so wonderfully that it’s very real. Theirs is probably the purest love I ever read or seen in books, which is amazing. The entire novel could be seen as a commentary of the science of love and the big question: what really connects people? The only flaw is that they (might) not be endgame, but hey: maybe their universe is taking longer to form.

Ships I Like/Okay With

  • Merricup (Merida and Hiccup from HTTYD and Brave) I’m not big into crossover ships, but this one is actually pretty decent. They have enough differences and similarities to balance one another out, and they are in similar family situations. Both of them feel like they’ve let down their parents (Elinor and Stoick) and want to escape and break the norms. I prefer 15-year-old Hiccup, just bc he’s funnier and closer to Merida’s age and maturity. However, while some of the material on YouTube is good, I feel like I’d need to see them actually together, like in a movie, to understand the full complexity of it. Plus Merida doesn’t need a man and Hiccup has Astrid and Toothless. It’s good to me, but not great.
  • Jelsa (Elsa and Jack Frost from Frozen and RotG) Another pairing very similar to Merricup. Two contrasting personalities in similar situations. They could definitely relate. My personal favorite AU for them is the Titanic, bc that’s Jelsa (to me) at its core: a wild child teaching a girl who follows the rules to an unhealthy extent to have fun and live life to the fullest. The YouTube videos actually do them justice. The only reason I only like them? I don’t like Jack Frost very much (I was okay until fandom overused him), Elsa might be LGBT (I’m holding out), and neither character particularly stands out to me in their own right. Honestly, I think the Jelsa vids are better than the actual movies, but that might apply to crossovering in general, which really ought to make movie studios ashamed of themselves lol.
  • Sybil/Branson (Lady Sybil and Tom Branson from Downton Abbey) okay, don’t get me wrong, I really love them in fandom. I follow the yankeecountess, I used to obsess over them, I still have this fondness for Sybil. But Julian Fellowes, to me, dropped the ball on their relationship in S2. It started out great in S1 and w/ Tom’s proposal, but the majority of the scenes saw them fighting or trying to reach a decision about running away. Not that it’s not necessary, it’s totally understandable why they’re upset. What is not good is the fact that we never see them on a good day. What is a normal day like for them? Is their relationship normally argumentative or do they joke and jest? Tbh, Fellowes really let his writing go downhill to me in S2. Bates becomes a Gary Stu; does he have an evil bone in his body? He must. Vera’s motivations make no sense, and the Evil Wife thing rubs me the wrong way (Idk why). That aside, what really saved them for me is fanfiction (courtesy of excellent writers like the YankeeCountess, who did better than proud Fellowes could ever hope) and Tom’s reactions to her death. I like how he never really got over her; he just kept her memory alive thru Sybbie.
  • Romelza (Ross and Demelza from Poldark) Scorching hot actors, amazing acting, beautiful visuals. Why aren’t they up at the top? One word: Elizabeth. Not to mention that Ross is not exactly likeable; his saving grace is his love for his wife. Demelza really deserves something better; he’s a rather grumpy man. But the devotion they share is classically charming in an abiding way. Not to mention Poldark is an exploration of the ups and downs of love and marriage, so it’s totally intentional and well done. We’re not meant to ship away blindly; we’re supposed to understand the nuance to human relationships.
  • Carolight (Dwight and Caroline from Poldark, not the gross lightening cream) I love romances that are forbidden and transcend class. These two had a rocky start w/ awkward chemistry that bordered more on being classist and a pathetic teenage girl falls for hot doc, but the result was amazing. they mutually hated, I mean love, one another and teach each other to be brave and go against the odds.

Crack Ships

  • Fa Zhou/Megara (Fa Zhou and Meg from Mulan and Hercules) Just watch Var Roman’s amazing Spirits Paralyzed vid. Now you see?

Ships that Have Potential

  • FinnRey/FinnRose/Stormpilot/Poly. Plenty of POC, sass, action, guns, and hotness mixed into all of these. Just no confirmations. FinnRey has cute hugging, Stormpilot has amazing banter, and FinnRose has two amazing actors being friends on set. Poly covers all. I just need to wait for the Last Jedi to give me an idea about what happens.

Ships I Don’t Like

Reylo (Rey and Kylo Ren from Star WarsKylo Ren’s a pretty cool villain, but he’s like the last lover anyone would want to take. I could see him having a tragic past romance, but that’s ripping off Anidala. This guy killed his dad! Plus he’s more in love w/ Grandpa’s helmet than anyone else, lol! Not to mention Rey has a bajillion hot Resistance guys to choose from.

Jackunzel (Jack and Rapunzel from RotG and Tangled). Okay, I admit it, I’m a bit biased. I ship Eugenzel and Jelsa, etc… But really, I just don’t get these too. They look hot and all, but aside from not wearing shoes, I don’t really see their personalities fitting except for a teenage first love or something. I could see them as teens during a short summer romance, but tbh I can’t see Jack settling down w/ anyone unless she makes him (Elsa, Tooth?). They’re both pretty childish, but for totally different reasons. They both need a more worldly, grounded person for romance, and as far as believing and showing the world… almost anyone fits the bill. Hiccup has a dragon; he could see Rapunzel the skies. Merida is willing to believe in witches and will-o-the-wisps. Idk, these two don’t seem like enemies, but they don’t say “couple” to me either.

JackAnna (Jack and Anna from RotG and Frozen). Same reasons as Jackunzel. Two goofy teens usually don’t catch my fancy, except if it’s Rick Riordan, But he always catches my fancy- almost (cough cough Magnus Chase).

Originally posted by samisoffthewall

Incest, Pedophilia, Slavery, etc. Um, bc I have good taste?

This is just my opinion. Please respect. And have fun shipping!!!


Inspired by @mouseymightymarvellous , here is my Witch AU. It was really fun, so I’ll be adding to it.

Also on ao3 and ffn

               Sometimes it was lonely being a witch. Sakura lived in a cabin far enough away from the village that they wouldn’t bother her. They didn’t hate her, not like they used to. Most of them were wary of her, though. Only a few came by for potions and medicine. But even they didn’t stay that long. She wouldn’t call them friends either. Just customers.

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A little thing I wrote about my Warden, Lenan Tabris & Zevran. You can find it on AO3

Zevran couldn’t tear his eyes from her, and it was beginning to become a problem.

This woman, this fucking woman. She should be dead, by his hand, and yet here he stood, gazing like a lovesick teenager. He continued to poorly pretend to sharpen his blades, his fingers dangerously close to being sliced off with the glide of the whetstone due to his lack of concentration.

Lenan sat on the filthy ground, leaning back against the log placed in front of the fire. Her pink tongue darted out to poke at the fresh cut on her bottom lip. She’d glared at him when he’d offered to stitch it up for her, “I like scars,” She’d said.

This infuriating, stubborn woman held something inside him; a flame igniting deep in his chest whenever her angry grey eyes met his golden brown.

He watched her rifle through her pack, as she did every night; a ritual. She rubbed the blood-stained slip of white lace between her fingers, staring off into the distance. The way she looked at it…

He longed to ask her about it, about what meaning such an item held, but the damn woman knocked the breath from his lungs with simply a look.

He was an assassin, for fucks sake. A damn fine one, probably even the best, but this skinny elf turned him to rubble. 

Lenan grunted and shoved the piece of lace back into the pack and threw it across the campsite. She ran her fingers through unkempt blonde hair, hissing as she grazed another cut that had dried and crusted above her eyebrow. She poked at the gash with her fingertip, wincing in pain, yet repeating the action anyway.

With a roll of her eyes she clasped her hands behind her head and slid until she was laid flat on her back in the dust and dirt.

Zevran took a deep breath, summoning the courage to initiate a conversation as he quietly approached her.

“I’m sure there are more satisfactory places for you to sleep, my lady?”

She didn’t flinch, her eyes blankly staring up at the stars.

He cleared his throat and gracefully led beside her, cheekily mimicking her pose with a wiggle of his hips as he settled to the ground.

“Finished staring at me, then?”

Zevran smiled, the sound of her husky voice causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand to attention. He gazed up at the stars, it was a wonderful, clear night.

“You are a beautiful woman,” He purred, impressed at how steady his voice sounded, “Its hard not to stare.”

“Are you sure you’re not just plotting to kill me again?” She queried, voice monotone and uncaring.

Zevran propped himself up on his elbow to get a better look at her, “I pledged my life to you, Warden. If you wish to end it, I would not blame you,” He steeled his gaze, daring her to look at him.

Had he not proved himself? He’d fought at her side for almost half a year now. His devotion never wavered, he was a man of his word. Creators, he’d wished she’d killed him back then. But now, now he had something to live for.

Her nose twitched, a delicious, crooked smirk forming on her plump lips. She sat up, crossing her legs and rested her chin atop clasped hands. Those wicked eyes glistened; mischief was afoot. 

“I see,” She paused, pursing her lips, “You better watch your back then, lest you find a dagger in it.”

Then, she giggled. She fucking giggled.

Zevran had never had the pleasure of hearing her make this joyful noise, a noise so pure he couldn’t help but to burst into laughter himself.

She smirked again, staring him down as if she were ready to pounce, “You know, you’re quite nice to look at yourself, crow.”


anonymous asked:

Can I request 83, 52, 38 or 18 (I'm in angsty mood for some reason). If you don't feel like writing angst today then maybe something from: 3, 4, 85 or 60. Since i'm writing this I might as well say that I loooooove your writing and I hope you have an amazing day! <3

What the fuck, why would I ever reject an angsty prompt? I am the angst duchess and fuck my life if I cant live to write sad, heartbreaking thingies. Or at least I try? And thanks for the kudos, I don’t know how do I deserve all of this when you guys deserve all the credit. I love this fandom so much.This prompt was a bit hard tho, and it turned out kinda short?… I just hope it lives up to your expectations ♥ Gonna make #18 for forbidden love shit.

Uraraka was no commoner. Uraraka Ochako was all but your regular friend that helps you with your bags and books– even if she possibly would help out with these matters, she was all but your normal stand-by friend.

Everyone knew that. If one took the opportunity to know her, they would see her true colors behind those common eyes that shone with unhidden curiosity and enthusiasm. It was hard for one to squeeze air out of her, and sometimes, even get a true emotion out of her.

Bakugou knew this, out of all people. Of course the pyro genius would see her for her true colors and not the ones she wore in front of everyone. He would notice when her hands trembled a little when laughing, a sign of feigning stupid glittery glee– he hated it. He hated her, sometimes. The way she sparkled while her heart trembled with the weight of a little lie that would later tie her down to her bed in a night of endless cries.

She could see right through him, too– and he was, somehow, perfectly fine with that. If someone could see the good in him, that would only be her and that stupid redhead he had for best friend. Kirishima was one of the very few people who could stand his random fits of anger, but Uraraka… that bitch. She was too good for her own good. Always hugging people, always smiling and–

He grasped his desk in agitation. She was always by that bastard’s side and it drove him up the wall.

Uraraka didn’t know this, of course. Whenever she was cheering her friend up, Bakugou would let out a good old colorful piece of goodness, but she deemed it to be in his nature. He was aggresive, a bit of a jerk, but it was him after all.

And somehow, there was a moment in time and space– like, two days ago in the middle of an encounter with him, when something shifted in her heart.

This spar had been anything but planned beforehand. Uraraka had seen him going for a walk in his training clothes and the idea sparked in her. She had ran to him inmediately with the objective of touching his shoulder, surprising him, and making him go weightless– of course, we are talking about Uraraka and she couldn’t do sneaky.

She had coughed just before reaching his skin, what prompted a big curse out of him and made him blow her away out of instinct. She landed a few meters behind him and when he realized it was her who had tried to, in his eyes, probably annoy the shit out of him– he at first scoffed at her futile attempt of a sneaky stance and helped her to her feet.

“What the fuck, Uraraka.” and he swung her arm around his shoulder, no petition needed. “Your leg is still peachy and you are planning surprise attacks on me? You must be a sucker for pain.”

“What… are you doing?” asked she, letting herself be dragged to wherever he wanted to drop her. It was true that planning such risky thing was reckless from her considering what a bad beating Iida had given her the previous day.

Oh, his face when he had seen her so beaten up. He had been apologizing while punching death into her.

Bakugou grunted beside her. “I’m taking you to a damn infirmary. I have burnt your left arm and honestly, every one will give me the stinky eye if they get to know I almost blew your ass up.”

Because everyone loved Uraraka, even his best friend. And he knew damn well that Kirishima would give him a good piece of mind if he came to find out that he had been the one to injure her. He would never mention, but he also felt a bit bad for harming her without a reason but stupid instinct.

Why did she… matter so much? She was just a damn pebble. How was he going to focus on his career when Bakugou had this woman by his side constantly hogging him to make nice with Deku so that bastard would be happy?

Bakugou had many reasons to make that boy’s life miserable: 1) he was a bragger, 2) he was a loser, and most recently 3) he had Uraraka’s undivided attention– he had his best battle buddy’s attention and again, it was driving him insane. So he walked to the infirmary with the intention of dropping her there and pretending nothing happened, because he was starting to be fed up with her and those butterflies she carried around her.

Why did she have to always come by and mess with his life?

He hated that feeling. He hated feeling like he needed to protect her when all he should be doing is focus on himself and– god, she was too in love with Deku, what good would it do to him to develop a silly crush on her and– at this point, when he came to terms with his feelings, he was a blushing mess and wanted to blow up the whole school.

Worst of it all, those silly summersaults his stomach did when she was near had been there for way too long before this realization and he felt it dawning on him, crushing him alive. There was no turning back now.

Uraraka didn’t let it pass, though. When Bakugou eventually and literally dropped her in a hospital bed, something stirred inside of her, making her heart warm in a pleasant manner. When he left her wordlessly to Recovery Girl’s aid, she smiled at him knowingly. Kirishima truly had had a gooD effect on him– and the thought carried her through the day, but as soon as Deku came into view, he had all her attention again.

Her heart still fluttered after the newfound kindness Bakugou had in him. And something changed that day. She would realize this change too late.

When Bakugou saw her laughing along with Deku, he started biting his knuckles. The feeling that bubbled in his chest squirmed uncomfortably, the very same feeling that had him wide awake all night after dropping roundface at the infirmary. A part of him told him that he had been rude as fuck for letting her on her own after almost setting her on fire, and another part told him that he had been stupid for almost setting her ablaze to start with.

No matter what he tried to come up with, he had made a mistake. He had made a mistake for allowing himself near her, for having left her at the infirmary bed when what he should have done is just leave her in the dust to tend her own injuries.

So he sucked it up and, as soon as class was finished, Bakugou waited for her to come out of class. Whatever he was feeling for her, for that strong and small stupid pebble he couldn’t step upon– all that was ending as soon as he set things clear with her.

He knew she would never pull away from green bastard, and he was aware of the fact that he couldn’t force her to stay away from him. He could hope for her to grow up from his fucking shadow, but he wasn’t scum and would never force her out of it. Whatever made her happy was fine for him. People he respected deserved their space and, albeit reluctantly, he would give it all to her.

She stepped out of class alone, always the slowest one to pack her stuff– her jump when he came into view was fucking hilarious. “What are you doing there, Baku–”

“Your injuries,” spat he, stepping near to her. Her proximity felt wrong and sinful to him when she was too far from reach, but he stil invaded her injuries til she was against a wall. “let me see them.”

Uraraka blinked at him once, twice, but didn’t flinch at his agressivity, unfazed as she always was by his forward demeanor. Her eyes wide as saucers for his intoxicating permating sweaty and riany spark, he let himself fall into the galaxies of her pools, and almost forgot what all this mess was about until he saw her remove her jacket and show him her reddened arm.

“It’s patched up and in good condition. You at least had the decency to take to Recovery Girl.”

He looked to his side, and his voice sounded remorseful for a second, connecting with all the thoughts that had rattled inside his head during the previous night. “It was my fault in the first place.”

“Are you… apologizing?”

“Hell no, you damn woman.” growled he, his scarlet glare boring into her purity once again. “You shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me when you know I can damn well tear you to pieces.”

Uraraka, far from offended, giggled at his brash retort. Her breath got stuck in her chest as beams of sunset streaked through his golden locks, and she had this silly urge to thread her fingers through them. She ended up deciding against it because she appreciated her life.

“Is there anything else you need?”

He looked at her even more intensely. There was a moment in which she noticed how she had changed in his eyes, but knew she remained the same for everyone. The colors she wore had turned scarlet, adorning her cheeks and inking her in desire and passion for that woman he would worship in the darkness as long as he lived, because he knew that sunlight wouldn’t let him speak out his secret devotion– not when she loved somebody else.

She loved Deku. She loved a quirkless bastard and not him, the great Bakugou Katsuki. And he was dying to know why.

So his hands trailed up her arm to end up gripping her jaw, her head crashing against the concrete. “Why him?”

Her cheeks muffled by his rough hands and chords malfunctioning due to the embers of his eyes, passion and anger– it all reduced her to ashes and suddenly, she couldn’t muster a decent answer. Mostly because a part of her didn’t know what he wastalking about while the other pretty much could see in his eyes what this was about. The notion just left her speechless and a mess of goo in the ground.

His flames kissed the chocolate of her irises– and boy, didn’t chocolate melt good and pretty against heat.

His mouth came devastating hers in a helfire kiss,as his hands tried their best not to roam around her body– one that didn’t belong to him, staying put on the wall so she wouldn’t escape– because of course she was shaking, probably fearful, needing to pull away. The way his mouth was twisting hers in such burning embrace, embers of passion consuming her thoughts and rationalities– but she didn’t want this.

It was all sorts of alluring and deliciously wrong. His teeth trapping her lower lip, trying to recover all dominance on the kiss, eliciting a throaty moan from her– he opened his eyes for a second, frustrated, and yearning to hear more of that. She attempted to pull way, her hands fighting against his chest to stop his sudden rampage, earning her a head crash against the wall as Bakugou only pushed her in.

His hands travelled all the way to her neck and waist, nails digging in her skin– oh, her gasp, that may have hurt a little. He took the opportunity to come crashing to her mouth, his tongue entangling with hers while she wiggled in his hold, trying to either get away or hold herself in. And none of those things were gonna happen.

There was a moment when he felt her give in a little. Her pushing became less frantic, the haltered, and her eyes shut completely close–

But he couldn’t– couldn’t let a good kiss get the best of him and build illusions on an impossible relationship. He couldn’t keep this up when she was in love with another man. He gave her waist a little push and disconnected the sickingly euphoric lock, a trail of saliva connecting them. 

He caressed her lower lip with his thumb as softly as he could, frown adorning his chaotic features, irises trembling as she stared at him, unbelieving.

He wasn’t the man for her. He breathed deep, then stepped back, their bodies missing each other– but this was wrong.

“I shouldn’t love you.” murmured he, making her features constrict into a painful grimace of realization. “But I fucking do and I’m scared shitless.”

He would die to hold her as she shook and almost fell, would love to possess her against the very same wall and make her forget about Deku. However, he wasn’t scum, and he couldn’t let her make him drop so low.

She didn’t deserve the pain he carried with him, or his falling hopes. So he marched away, shoulders tense in realization.

Bakugou saw the true colors in her, and she would always see his and cherish them as a precious treasure. But his colors weren’t the ones she was searching for, or the ones she dreamed and sighed for.

And no matter how blaring and blinding her colors were, he couldn’t let them paralyze him. No matter the heartbreak, he did what he deemed to be right– not knowing he had left a dounting girl at his wake, who realized now why his kindness had struck her so much.

He walked away. And this was the first time Bakugou realized he was human and couldn’t be more than that, no matter how much he loved her.

“Here We’re Safe”

Hello! This is a smol drabble I wrote for @kazubishaweek2017! Today’s theme is “Day Off” and this is inspired by a text post I once saw (THAT I CAN’T FIND ;A; ) where someone said something to the effect of “imagine Kazuma putting flowers in Bishamon’s hair.” I hope you enjoy if you read <3

It often occurs to Kazuma that moments like this could only exist on a plane of reality beyond life. Surely mortality was never quite so extraordinary.

A cool spring breeze leads the grass through a gentle, carefree dance. He runs his fingers through Viina’s hair, weaving in stems of the most vibrant flowers he could find. As if anything could possibly make her any more beautiful.

She rests her head on his lap, closing her eyes. The sunlight cast over her face brings out the gold in her lashes. Kazuma’s fingertips brush her temples as he combs her hair back.

He’s so lucky. He may live for the next thousand lifetimes and still never deserve this.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice touching him like a sweet caress.

He places another flower with a feather-light touch. Even now, even after existing solely for each other for so long, he still isn’t good enough to love her.

“My lady,” he says, bowing his head, “do not.”

She reaches up, catching his hand as he slides another flower stem into her hair. Kazuma’s breath stalls in his chest. He blinks at their joined hands, waiting for her touch to burn him as if she is made of starlight and he was never supposed to get this close.

“You’re peaceful,” she says, twining their fingers. “Steady.”

I’m not enough, he thinks. He will always taste the truth’s bitterness on his tongue, smiling at her like he can’t.

“I feel safe,” she says, barely in a whisper. The wind stirs the petals in her hair, carrying the words away. She smiles, slipping her hand out of his and resting it over her heart.

“Viina, I will always protect you.” His thumb strokes a daisy by her ear, its pure white petals an echo of the fabric of her dress. “It’s my vow.”

They fall silent, sinking into the peace they bring each other. Looking down at her face, his eyes tracing all the places where the worry lines have smoothed, he tries to forget how they made it here.

He keeps lies and secrets under words of devotion and acts of love. She carries him as if none of that is true. He wants to hate himself for it, maybe he does, but he’s too selfish to want a different life.

Kazuma continues adding flowers, surrounding her with their life and colors. The softest of smiles stays etched to her face. It’s comfortable.

I’m so thankful, he thinks, her hair running through his fingers like silk. I will never take this for granted.

She has given him a life where every bit of suffering amounts to moments of inconceivable joy. They’ve both hurt, trudging through countless fires without losing grip of each other’s scorched hands. Their nights are spent holding each other to smother the growing loneliness and fear inside of them both.

Bishamonten is the most powerful god of war and she weeps for every life she couldn’t protect. She’s so strong, so kind, and so broken too.

How can he touch her with the very hands that destroyed her? How can he love her so catastrophically?

Her eyes flutter open and she looks up at him as if the universe is captured in his eyes. “Kazuma, I’m grateful it was you to stay by my side.”

Despite it all, he’s grateful too. He’ll protect her over and over again, no matter how much it hurts them both. Because it’s his purpose. Because she’s worth it. Because every breath in his lungs belongs only to her.

“I always will.”