♧ Authorized Reprint For Tumblr // Artist:    ullpe / ユルペ  /    MHA LOG

The Heart Cracks Before it Shatters (Pt6) ⋆｡°✩ Bakugou Katsuki

Masterlist ୨ৎ pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt5.5

The finale : Nothing is ever easy.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : guys dont shout at me i know im one day late. BUT SHES DONE! I cant believe it honestly. this has been such a whirlwind and im lowkey said its over. but I hope you will all stay with me for future projects! yay!

Warnings : SUGGESTIVNESS AT A POINT (nothing explict but still) Angsty, Female!Reader, Reader is a wife, Reader has children, bakugou is very sad, agruments, swearing, sadness, aged up characters, childern, babies.

W/C : 6.9k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

While the rush of determination felt good in the moment, now, standing outside Katsuki’s office, it’s settled into something closer to pure nerves.

You had a plan. A simple one, really. Step one: show your husband you miss him. Step two: admit you’ve both made mistakes. Step three: figure out how the hell to move forward without wrecking each other in the process. It sounded solid enough when you wrote it out in your notes app—three times, actually—but putting it into action? Yeah. Not as easy as it looked on screen.

The first time you tried was when you were dropping the kids off. For the past two weeks, it had been a no-talking, no-eye-contact type of handoff. You stayed in the house, watched Riko do all the work, carrying her sister’s bags and lugging Koharu to the door while you kept your distance. So, you figured attempt number one was simple enough—step in, carry your own kid out to the car, like you probably should’ve been doing this whole time.

So, you took some deep breaths, took Korahu from her sister's hand (paired with a weird look from the older sister) and ushered the girls to the door. 

Katsuki was there, like always. Leaning against his car, looking tired. Sad, too. But still stupidly handsome, which pissed you off more than you’d admit. The second the door opened and he saw you standing there, his whole body snapped to attention. His eyes widened a little, his shoulders squared up, like he wasn’t sure what to do but he was sure as hell going to do something.

It was almost funny. Almost.

He didn’t say anything, but he met you halfway. Took Riko’s bag without asking. Looking at Koharu in your arms like it hurt him to see her there and not with him. 

“Um…” Riko’s small voice cut through the moment. She hovered a little to the side, fidgeting. “Mama, are you… coming with us?” she asked, her brows pinching in quiet confusion as she glanced between you both.

And, for some reason, this question is a surprise to you. And it very quickly occurs to you also, that maybe your children shouldn't see the maybe difficult and definitely emotional conversation you are planning to have with their father. Yup. Why was that not included in the notes app plan? 

You don’t say anything at first. But now Riko’s staring at you like she’s waiting for an answer, and Katsuki’s standing there, still as anything, his hand flexing around the strap of her bag like he’s holding himself back from saying something.

You clear your throat, shifting Koharu’s weight on your hip. “ um… no not today sweetheart, just saying hi is all”. 

Riko doesn’t look convinced, but she nods anyway, glancing up at Katsuki. He’s already watching you, gaze steady, a crease between his brows like he’s thinking something he’s not sure he should say out loud.

“You could, y’know,” he mutters after a beat, his voice low but rough at the edges. “Come with us. If you wanted.”

“W-were just getting dinner at that place downtown, with the udon you like. And a movie, probably.” 

And if every single member of your little family wasn’t looking at you right now, waiting, hoping, you might’ve groaned out loud. How did you not account for this? How did you not see it coming? And you are not about to screw this up by winging it.

“Oh,” you say, a nervous laugh catching on your tongue. It falls flat. No one joins in. “I think I’ll take a raincheck for tonight. Got some leftover work I need to finish up, unfortunately.”

You reach out to ruffle Riko’s hair. She leans into it, even smiles a little, a nice distraction from the weird tension in the air. 

Katsuki doesn’t push. He never does these days. You’re not sure if that makes it easier or harder.

He just watches you for a long moment, like he’s turning something over in his head. His jaw ticks, sharp and familiar, but when he nods, it’s slow. Careful. Like he’s not trusting himself to move too fast. “Yeah,” he says after a beat. His voice is quieter now. “Okay. Another time, then.”

You offer a faint smile, one you hope looks steadier than it feels, and murmur your goodbyes. Riko gives you one last look over her shoulder before climbing into the car. Katsuki opens the door for her without breaking eye contact, and something about that sticks with you longer than it should.

And later that night, you’re still thinking about it. About the way Katsuki’s eyes followed you. About how you turned down his offer because you weren’t ready—not yet—and wondering if it sounded too much like rejection.

You hope not. God, you hope not.

~~

Kirishima’s warnings about time are still hanging in the back of your mind, like a nagging little voice. The more you think about it, the more it feels like putting this conversation off any longer is just another excuse. So, better now than later, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Well, besides everything falling apart, obviously. 

Father’s Day.

It’s not intentional, not really. It just sort of happens that way. And, okay, maybe deciding to have this conversation today of all days feels a little… questionable. You could start with a positive. “Wow, you’re actually a good father these days!” Sure, the conversation could end terribly, but at least you’d have that one bit of sincerity before everything goes to shit.

A quick text to Izuku confirms what you already suspected—Katsuki’s working during the day. Of course he is. But he has the kids tonight, which means you get the rest of the evening to yourself. Perfect. Time to spiral in peace.

You spend the morning mentally preparing yourself, like you always do before any interaction with your husband these days. It's become a routine at this point—dress nice, check your reflection one more time, make sure your hair’s in place, like somehow that’ll make everything easier. You even check the gift you got him for the millionth time, just to make sure it hasn’t mysteriously disappeared or been swapped out for something less meaningful. You really don’t need any more stress right now.

You want your arrival to be a complete surprise, which means you can't just drive. That would be too easy—and also, the parking sensors at his place would give you away in a second. Katsuki would know you were there before you even stepped out of the car, and you definitely don’t want him overthinking anything. So, you opt for the bus instead. It feels a little ridiculous, but it’s the only way to guarantee you catch him completely off guard. No time for him to prepare or second-guess. You want this moment to be real, unfiltered.

As the bus rumbles along, you look out the window at the sunny day, feeling something a little unexpected—hope. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt that. It’s funny, though, but as you sit there, the memories come flooding back. It was actually this time of year, so many years ago, when Katsuki officially asked you to be his girlfriend. It feels like a lifetime ago, but the memories are so vivid. People are always surprised when you tell them he was shy back then, especially since they only see the brash, bold personality he’s built up over the years. Back then, though, he was anything but.

He suggested a walk and lunch, like any normal date. But you hadn’t even made it ten minutes down the path before he pulled you aside, cornering you against a tree. His eyes were wide, a mixture of determination and uncertainty flickering behind them. “I want to be official,” he’d said, so seriously, yet nervously—completely out of character for him. You couldn’t help but laugh, a soft, genuine laugh. Maybe that laugh made it all the more real, solidifying that this was the boy who had stolen your heart so effortlessly, and the man who was now trying to win it all over again.

And now, here you are, so many years later. The shy boy has grown into a man. Changed by time, by life, by everything you’ve both gone through. It’s funny how much time can shift a person, how it can shape someone in ways you don’t always see coming. You wonder how he’d say you’ve changed, too. Would he even recognize the person you’ve become? Would he still see the girl who laughed under that tree all those years ago? You weren’t so sure.

When you find yourself standing outside Katsuki’s agency building, you don’t hesitate. The adrenaline is already pumping, your heart racing as you push open the door, wondering if any paparazzi are lurking nearby. It’s a small but nagging thought, the price of being so connected to someone so publicly known.

You walk up to the front desk, and the receptionists look up, offering you a warm, welcoming smile. "How have you been?" one of them asks, and for a brief moment, you forget how long it’s been since you’ve actually been here. You can’t even remember the last time you stepped foot into this place. Maybe back when it was still new, and Katsuki was so excited about it. Back then, he used to pester you to come visit all the time, his proud smile, guiding you around with that quiet swagger of his.

You glance around, taking in the changes since the last time you were here. There’s a new fishtank behind the reception desk, the soft swish of water a peaceful contrast to the buzz of the street outside. You didn’t even notice it when you first walked in. When did that get put in? 

Leaning in slightly, you lower your voice to a near whisper, careful not to draw attention. “Don’t tell Katsuki I’m here. I’ve got a surprise for him.” The words are almost a secret, a lightness to them that doesn’t entirely match the nervous tension growing inside you. The receptionists giggle softly, their glances exchanged behind a knowing smile before one of them gives a playful, almost conspiratorial nod.

One of them leans forward, their voice light with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “A surprise, huh?” they ask, their tone teasing but not intrusive. “Hopefully he’ll love it. Honestly, he’s been a little quiet around here... maybe he’s just been missing you.”

You nod, trying to mask the sudden tension in your chest. Off. Katsuki had been distant in a way that was hard to ignore. The words only make your nerves continue to bubble in your stomach. You hate the idea that you’ve been ruining his work life too.  

Once the elevator beeps, you quietly step out and walk down the halfway, the sounds of talking fleeting in the background. Your footsteps echo softly, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is a mistake, or if you’re doing the right thing. Why does everything feel so uncertain now?

But then you shake your head, forcing the doubts aside. You can’t hesitate now—not when you’ve come this far. You clutch the gift a little tighter, the weight of it solid in your hands, a reminder of why you’re here. Just do it. 

When you finally make it to his office, you can’t help but hesitate outside the door. His blinds are down, so he hasn’t seen you coming. You glance down at your phone—no messages, no missed calls. There’s nothing to suggest he’s expecting you. Still, you hesitate. Your hand hovers above the door, but you can’t bring yourself to actually touch it.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the tension in your body making you feel jittery, like you're on the edge of doing something you can't quite bring yourself to start. You glance around the hall, seeing a few curious looks in your direction, and you realize just how out of place you must seem, standing here in front of his door, waiting. The longer you stand there, the stranger it feels. You can’t put it off any longer.

God, this is hard.

You knock lightly, the sound barely audible. When no response comes after a couple of seconds, you knock again, this time a little more forceful.

“WHAT,” comes Katsuki’s loud voice from the other side, as sharp as ever. You can practically feel the force of it through the door, and it makes you wonder how his staff ever manages to be around him all day without flinching. But you? You're nervous, sure, but you're not scared. You steady yourself, taking a deep breath, before pushing the door open.

To your surprise, Katsuki isn’t alone.

Izuku is there too, leaning over Katsuki’s desk with his face uncomfortably close to him. Katsuki, on the other hand, is leaning away, his body stiff and his brows furrowed as if he’s trying to put as much distance between them as possible. But no matter how much Katsuki shifts, Izuku’s still right there, talking to him like they’re in some weird, casual conversation.

As you step inside, the low murmur of their voices reaches your ears.

“Why are your under eyes so dark? Have you been sleeping?” Izuku asks, genuinely concerned, his eyes scanning Katsuki’s face. 

“Get out of my fuckin’ face, Deku,” Katsuki grumbles in response, his hand coming up to swat at Izuku’s face. Izuku, as usual, seems oblivious to how much space he’s crowding, even as he nudges closer to Katsuki’s personal space. 

You, on the other hand, stand frozen in the doorway, unsure of what to do. It’s a bit confusing, actually—neither of them has looked over at you even though they both know someone’s coming in. You clear your throat, a soft “hello” slipping out, just enough to break the silence.

And just like that, both of them snap their attention to you. Katsuki’s eyes widen in surprise, his body shifting almost instinctively, pushing his chair back as far from Izuku as possible. He straightens up, his posture suddenly more alert. His eyes track you, silent and intense, but there’s an undercurrent of something—maybe nervousness, maybe relief, and definitely surprise. At least your plan worked?

Izuku, on the other hand, stands up quickly, a wide, easy smile lighting up his face. “Hey!” he says brightly, completely unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Katsuki didn’t mention you were coming today!” Without missing a beat, he takes a step forward and pulls you into a warm hug, a casual, friendly gesture that feels comforting in the moment but also slightly jarring given everything you’ve been feeling.

Katsuki watches this carefully, his face softening just a fraction when he sees the way Izuku is interacting with you. 

Izuku pulls away from the hug with a grin, oblivious to any underlying tension. “It’s good to see you!” his voice light, before turning back to Katsuki.

“You too,” you say shyly, your voice quiet, your gaze catching Katsuki’s. The intensity of his stare unsettles you more than you expect, his eyes still tracking you like he’s trying to make sense of why you’re here, why you showed up today.

But before you can dwell on it too much, Katsuki’s voice cuts through the air with surprising sharpness. “Deku, leave.”

Izuku blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?! But I want to catch up with you guys! I haven’t seen Y/N in forever, and you’ve been dodging my calls—”

“Get the fuck out,” Katsuki growls again, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Izuku frowns, giving Katsuki a playful side-eye, not picking up on the tension at all. “But you see her every day! I just want to—”

“Deku.”

There’s a sudden finality in Katsuki’s voice, something that makes Izuku pause for a second before his expression shifts. It’s as though he understands something unspoken, the corners of his mouth lifting in a resigned smile. He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, clearly about to exit.

“Fine… but I really want to see you guys soon!” Izuku says, turning back to you as he heads toward the door. “And Y/N?” he calls with a teasing grin. “Make sure he’s sleeping okay, alright? I know you two are young and in love but—”

“GET THE FUCK OUT, DEKU!” Katsuki cuts him off, his voice booming, and Izuku laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender as he finally exits, leaving you and Katsuki standing there in the thick silence.

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to say or do. The plan had been so simple in your head—so clear—but now, in the face of this strange and quiet moment, it feels anything but.

“I—” You start, your voice faltering before you take a steadying breath. “I wasn’t expecting him to be here.”

Katsuki says nothing, his silence hanging between you both like a heavy fog. He runs a hand through his hair, the motion almost like a reflex, and you watch as his jaw tightens, then relaxes. Still, he doesn’t speak.

You glance at the space between you, then back at him, the knot in your stomach tightening. This wasn’t how you envisioned it.

“I brought you something,” you murmur, your hand instinctively reaching for the small gift bag you’ve been holding onto like a lifeline. “For Father’s Day.”

At the mention of Father’s Day, his eyes flicker for a moment, just a brief flash of something soft and unfamiliar before it’s gone. Katsuki doesn’t take the gift from you immediately, instead watching it with a gaze that’s more distant than you expect. He doesn’t say anything for a few long beats, and you’re starting to think maybe this was a mistake, maybe you should’ve just left it alone.

But then he takes a step forward, reaching for the bag with an almost reluctant gesture. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” you reply, your voice quiet but sincere. "It's... it's just a little something."

Katsuki gives a stiff nod as he pulls the bag from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours briefly, and though the contact is fleeting, it sends a shiver through you. He opens it slowly, and the soft crinkle of tissue paper fills the silence before he pulls out the small, simple gift you picked out for him—a picture frame. It’s of him and the girls, when Koharu had just been born and was still so tiny. You don’t think he’s ever seen this picture. You took it during one of those rare, quiet moments when he was reading to the girls, lost in the story and unaware you were watching from the doorway.

For a long time, Katsuki doesn’t speak. He simply stares at the frame in his hands, his gaze fixed on the picture. You consider that your going to be met with silence again, that this was all one big mistake and your overstepping with someone that can’t be bothered with you anymore. 

“Is… is it okay?” you ask hesitantly, your voice breaking the silence.

Finally, Katsuki looks up at you, and for a moment, the distance between you seems to shrink. “Yeah. It’s fine. It’s… nice,” he says with a low soft tone to it. 

You shift, unsure of what to do next, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the hard planes of his jaw, the tension that hasn’t quite faded from his shoulders. It’s like he's lost in the memory, but also wrestling with it at the same time.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks, and the words are barely a whisper, but they hold more weight than any explosion he could’ve set off. "What are you really doing here?"

His eyes flick up to meet yours, but they linger there for just a moment before quickly darting away, almost like he’s afraid of what he might see if he holds your gaze too long.

For a second, you don’t know how to answer. Your throat tightens, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. It’s not an easy question to answer, not when the answer feels too complicated, tangled up with everything you both are and aren’t anymore.

But you manage to find your voice. “I—” You stop yourself, unsure how to explain it, unsure of how much to say. You try again, quieter this time. “I wanted to see you. To... give you that. To... be here.”

His gaze shifts briefly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he looks down at the frame again. His fingers tighten around it, but it’s not in anger—it’s like he’s holding onto it, holding onto the moment in the picture, trying to tether himself to something he can’t quite let go of.

There’s a hesitation in the way he breathes, in the way his gaze keeps flicking between the picture and you. He seems to want to say something, but whatever it is, he’s holding it back, like it’s too fragile to speak aloud.

Then—“Sweetheart…” His voice catches, a quiet hesitation there you haven’t heard before. “What does that mean?” His lips twitch into a dry, almost self-deprecating smile. “I’m a little fuckin’ confused over here.”

You huff a breath, nerves fluttering under your skin. Fair enough. You did show up unannounced after weeks of silence, acting like none of it had happened. Of course he’s confused. You would be, too.

“Yeah. Okay. Um—well!” You force a shaky exhale through a tight-lipped smile. God, why is this so hard? “I just… had some things to say and I—well. No. I guess.”

The words tangle in your mouth before they can land anywhere. You’re floundering, and you know it.

Katsuki reaches out, his hand finding your hip with a steadiness you didn’t realize you needed. His thumb draws slow, grounding circles against your side. “Breathe,” he murmurs.

You do. So does he.

And when you give him a small, grateful smile, it’s answered by a faint flush rising on his cheeks. That soft, familiar pink that makes your chest ache. Yeah… this is okay. You can do this.

“I wanted to apologize,” you say, quieter now. “For what happened… last time. When you were at the house.”

His hand falls away from your hip at that, and the loss of it makes your skin prickle cold. But you keep going.

“You were right. It wasn’t fair to you. And then I made it worse by not reaching out after I… after I threw you out.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I guess I thought you’d message me first. Which was stupid.”

“I didn’t want to overstep,” he says quietly, staring down at his hands like they’re something he’s only just noticed. His knuckles are tight, the same hands that just held you, now clenched like he’s bracing for something.

You step closer, reaching out. Your palms cradle his face, coaxing his gaze back to yours. His eyes widen, startled in a way that makes your heart ache all over again. Like he can’t quite believe you’re here.

“I know you didn’t,” you say softly. “I think I was just feeling… insecure. Hurt. And, yeah, maybe a little petty.” You try for a smile, but it’s faint. “Not my most mature moment.”

Your fingers slip into his hair, nails grazing gently at his hairline. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

Katsuki’s quiet for a beat. Then another. His eyes search yours like he’s looking for something he isn’t sure he’ll find.

And then, barely above a breath—“Does that mean I can come home now?”

The way he says it cracks something open inside you. Soft. Uncertain. Katsuki Bakugou, who has always been brash and sure, suddenly sounds like a kid waiting to be told he’s not in trouble. Like he’s hoping for permission to want this.

Your chest tightens. “Yes,” you whisper. “I… missed you. A lot. So if you want to, yeah. Please.”

You barely have time to breathe before he’s pulling you in, arms wrapping tight around you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. His face presses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice thick. “I hate that I made you feel like that. You’re… you’re the most beautiful fuckin’ person in the world to me. I want you to know that.”

He draws back just enough to look at you, his hands still cradling your waist. His eyes are a little red around the edges. “I’ve missed you so fuckin’ much.”

You smile. And this time, it feels real.

“Me too.”

~~~

Katsuki doesn’t come home that night.

He tells you straight, his hands firm on your hips, holding you steady like he thinks you might drift off if he doesn’t. “I… I want to come back tonight. Fuck, angel, I want to.” His thumbs press in, warm and certain. “But it’s complicated. I got arts and crafts shit with the girls, and—”

He pauses, searching your face, as if there’s something he needs you to understand. And you do. You really do. It’s Father’s Day, after all. He’s planned something fun with them—he deserves that.

So you nod. “It’s fine,” you say, even if it’s not entirely. Even if part of you aches a little at the thought of another night in an empty house.

But then his phone buzzes again. The reminder that he’s still on the clock, still pro-hero Dynamight. He mutters under his breath, answering the call with a scowl. And while he’s distracted, you let yourself slip toward the door. No point hovering.

You don’t get far before he’s slamming the phone down.

“Oi,” he calls, striding toward you. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

You turn, halfway through a smile. “You’re busy.”

“Don’t care,” he shrugs, before wrapping you up in another of his crushing hugs, his chin hooked over your shoulder like he’s grounding himself. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, breathing him in. “Let me know how you and the girls get on.”

At that, he pulls back just enough to flash a small, crooked smile. “They’ll love it.” And you can tell he means it. He’s already picturing it—Korahu’s chubby fingers smearing paint where it shouldn’t go, Riko trying to keep things under control like she’s got any chance at all.

It all goes surprisingly smooth after that. You part ways. No fight. No lingering weight pressing on your chest. Just… quiet. Simple. You didn’t expect simple.

Still, the house feels a little emptier when you get home. You tell yourself it’s karma. Fair’s fair.

So you fill the quiet with the hum of self-care—cleaning, candles, making the bed like he’s already here. Maybe it’s silly, but it makes you feel better. Like you’re making room for him.

A couple of texts drop in while you work:

[7:34 PM] Kirishima: Katsuki said you guys made up!!! 💪 Happy for u (even tho I’ll miss bro being here 😣)

[8:28 PM] Katsuki: Never letting Korahu touch paint again.

[8:28 PM] Katsuki: [Image Attached]

You can’t help the grin as you open the photo. Korahu’s covered, head to toe, in streaks of neon green paint. The grin gets bigger when you reply, because yeah… things are starting to feel okay.

You catch yourself thinking how simple it was in the end. Just… talk to him. That’s all it took. So simple it’s stupid. But it’s a start. Onwards and upwards, right?

And still… the intimacy part lingers in the back of your mind. Not the physical, not exactly. The closeness. Letting him in again, letting yourself be seen. You’re getting there. You’re proud of that.

You’re just about to call it a night when you hear the knock.

It’s late. Too late for visitors. You tread light toward the door, thinking maybe you imagined it, but then it comes again, sharper this time.

You jump. “Who is it?”

“Me, sweetheart.”

Your heart stumbles. For a second, your mind blanks, chasing every possibility. Are the girls okay? Did something happen? Or did he really take ‘come back tomorrow’ as ‘come back at nearly midnight’?

You crack the door open, and there he is. Katsuki. Standing there like it’s nothing.

“You shouldn’t talk through the door,” he says, voice low, a little gruff. “Use the cameras. Don’t let people know if you’re home.”

You barely register the lecture. “What are you doing here?”

He huffs. “Can I come in first?”

You step back, and he does, toeing his boots off by instinct before looking at you again. He’s flushed a little—maybe from the night air, maybe from something else.

“I thought you weren’t coming until tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” He drags a hand through his hair, messy already. “The girls are asleep. Told Kirishima I was heading out.”

You wait. He’s not exactly known for long explanations, but still. You wait.

He shifts, uncomfortable in a way that’s rare for him. “I know I said I’d come tomorrow. I was about to go to bed. Was gonna text you.” His hand rubs at the back of his neck, his voice rougher now. “But I didn’t wanna do that again. I didn’t wanna… not be here. So.”

A beat.

“Probably should’ve asked first,” he mutters. “Sorry.”

You stand there for a second, taking him in. The way his shoulders are tense, like he’s bracing for you to tell him to leave. The way his mouth pulls down at the corners, softened by tired eyes.

You take a step closer, your fingers brushing against his wrist before curling around it. You feel his pulse jump beneath your touch.

“Don’t say sorry,” you tell him, your voice gentler than you expected. “I was just surprised. You know I want you here.”

His breath leaves him in a slow exhale. “Okay,” he says. “Good.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. It’s comfortable in a way it hasn’t been for a while. Quiet. Easy.

Then he shifts, his grip on your wrist tightening just enough to pull you closer. “You look nice,” he murmurs.

You huff a laugh. “These are just my pajamas, Katsuki.”

“I know that.” His fingers trace lightly along your jaw, calloused pads dragging slow and careful. “Still means you can look nice, doesn’t it?”

There’s something in the way he looks at you—soft, but hungry. It’s not just that he’s missed you. It’s the kind of heat you haven’t seen from him in a long time, and it catches you off guard. Your skin prickles under the weight of it.

You laugh again, quiet and nervous, and step back just slightly. You regret it the second you do. But he doesn’t push. His mouth quirks into something close to a smirk, easy, like he doesn’t mind waiting.

“I was just heading to bed,” you say, clearing your throat.

“Let’s go then, huh?” His voice is rough, low, but there’s no push behind it—just an offer.

Later, you sit beneath the covers, watching him move around the room. He pulls his shirt off and folds it onto the chair, and your eyes catch on the cut of his shoulders, the sharp lines of muscle along his back. Familiar. Hard-earned. You’ve seen it a thousand times, but it hits you different tonight. Like you’re seeing him again for the first time.

Your face warms, and you look away, embarrassed by how much you feel like a teenager sneaking glances.

The room dims when he turns the lamp down, leaving just a wash of amber light spilling across the sheets. Then the mattress shifts under his weight as he crawls in beside you, his arm slipping easily around your waist, pulling you into the solid heat of his chest.

You let out a slow breath against him, and he answers with one of his own.

“Missed you,” he murmurs. His hand smooths over your hip, dragging slow, then curling back up your spine. “Missed this. Can’t believe I made us go without it for so damn long.”

“I’ve missed it too,” you whisper. “Missed you.”

And then he’s looking at you. Really looking. Like he used to—like he did in those early years when the world was still new between you. His hand comes up to your cheek, thumb stroking along the curve of your jaw. It’s reverent. Careful.

He leans in, brushing his lips to yours, light as a breath. It’s tender, almost hesitant. But you kiss him back. And then it’s not hesitant at all.

His hand slides into your hair as the kiss deepens, his mouth demanding now, hungry and hot. It’s messy, desperate—years of holding back spilling out in the press of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, the low sound he makes when you breathe his name against his skin. His other hand finds your hip, holding on tight like he’s worried you’ll vanish if he lets go.

When you shift, swinging your leg over to straddle his lap, he groans into your mouth, his hands immediately smoothing down over your thighs, then up, fingers splaying wide as if he’s trying to map all of you at once. You’re already flushed and breathless, but the sound of him like this, so openly wrecked for you, drives you to chase more.

The kisses don’t stop—don’t even slow. His mouth is hot, hungry against yours, and the way he groans when you grind down makes heat pool deep in your belly. His hands are everywhere now, rough palms skating over soft skin, kneading at your waist, your ass, like he can’t get enough.

Then he breaks the kiss just long enough to catch his breath, his thumb dragging across your lower lip as he does. Both of you are panting, chests rising and falling like you’ve run miles to get here.

“Fuck,” he mutters, eyes dark as they flick over your face. “You’re perfect, sweetheart. Driving me outta my damn mind.”

You can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you, your hand still resting over his hammering heart. He’s not the only one losing it here.

“I love this,” he says, his voice rough with heat as he gives your hips a slow, deliberate push down against him. Yeah, you can tell. There’s no mistaking the hard press of him beneath you, or the way his grip tightens as he holds you there for a moment longer. “Love you,” he adds, softer, but no less intense. “But I need you to know I didn’t show up for this. Wasn’t tryin’ to make this a booty call or some shit. I just… really needed to be close to you.”

You lean in, brushing your nose against his, smiling faintly. “I know, Kats. I know that’s not you.”

“Good,” he murmurs. He tips his head back, blowing out a breath, as if he’s trying to cool himself down. “No more for tonight though.”

You blink, momentarily thrown, and then pout, full and obvious. When he cracks an eye open and sees it, his grin spreads slow and wicked. He’s enjoying this, even if his chest is still heaving like he’s run a marathon.

“Ain’t got any protection, sweets,” he says, voice low and deep. “And it’s been a long damn while. I won’t be able to hold myself back with you.”

A beat. His gaze flickers, watching your reaction, something warm and teasing in his expression—but there’s truth there, too. A warning wrapped in affection.

“So unless you want Korahu to have a sibling nine months from now,” he drawls, thumb stroking along your hipbone, “I think it’s best we call it.”

You huff a little laugh and shake your head, leaning forward until your forehead presses to his. “You’re impossible.”

He snorts softly. “Don’t blame me. I ain’t thrilled we have to stop either, princess.”

You both settle, breath slowing. The heat fades into something quieter, something steady. You roll off him and curl into his side, and his arm comes around you without hesitation, pulling you close. He presses slow, sleepy kisses to your temple, to your jaw, to your shoulder—lazy but full of something that makes your chest ache.

“Night, Kat,” you whisper against his skin.

“Night, baby,” he murmurs, and then his voice firms up like he’s gripping the words tight. “I love you.”

It comes out of you before you can think too hard about it. “I love you too.”

There’s a breath, shaky but soft. “Yeah,” he says again, his voice catching just a little. “Yeah.”

~~~

After that night, the waters begin to finally settle.

It isn’t perfect—Katsuki is still busy, still only human. But he’s trying, and when he slips up, you forgive him. And when you start to overthink things, he doesn’t let you spiral—just pulls you close, asks you softly if things are okay, if they can be better.

He leaves notes when he knows he’ll be working late, scribbled in his sharp, messy handwriting. Little things. I love you. Sleep early. Don’t wait up. Or, Miss you already. See you soon, sweetheart. And things do get better.

And it’s not just you who notices.

Riko smiles more, hugs you without hesitation. Her arms don’t feel like they’re trying to hold you together anymore—they’re just hugs, warm and happy and childlike the way they should be.

Going to Katsuki’s parents for the first time after everything isn’t as scary as you thought, either. His mom pulls you in tight, whispering a quiet thank you. But you thank her instead, and when Katsuki catches your gaze, there’s no shame there—no guilt or lingering anger. Just quiet, steady affection.

It makes you wonder how you ever went so long without it.

Because now, you’re addicted to it. Not in a naïve, honeymoon phase way—no, things aren’t perfect. There are still arguments, still sharp words and teary nights. But the love isn’t put into question anymore. That stays constant.

Life moves fast, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t dread it. You embrace it.

And then, one quiet evening, as you sit on the beach with Katsuki, watching the girls play in the sand, you’re reminded just how far you’ve come.

His chin rests on your shoulder, arms draped around your waist as you twirl his fingers absently between yours. The waves roll lazily in front of you, golden light casting long shadows across the shore.

“You know,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear, “it was three years ago today.”

You hum, still watching the girls. “What was?”

“When you left.” His voice is quiet, careful. “Up to Tokyo.”

The words land soft but heavy.

It feels so long ago now, that time in your life when everything felt unbearable. But you still remember it—how could you not?

“Wow,” you murmur, letting the thought settle. “So long ago now.”

“Yeah.” He pauses, his grip tightening around you, like he’s bracing himself.

Then, softer, “I’m still sorry about that.”

You turn slightly, glancing back at him. His gaze is distant, the light catching in his eyes, making them burn a little redder than usual.

“I—” he exhales, shaking his head. “It’s one of my biggest mistakes. Letting things get to that point. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive myself—”

“Katsuki.” You shift, turning fully now so you can cup his face in your hands. His eyes flicker to yours, sad and heavy with regret.

“I nearly lost you,” he whispers. “I did lose you. And I still can’t believe myself.”

Your heart aches at the way he says it—like it’s something that still haunts him, something he’ll never quite let go of.

But you smile, small and sure. Your thumbs brush over his cheekbones, grounding him.

“But you didn’t,” you remind him gently. “We’re here. Together.”

He lets out a slow, shuddering breath, like he’s been holding it in for years. Then, finally—he nods.

“Yeah.” His voice wobbles just slightly, thick with something unspoken.

You kiss him, soft and lingering. His hands find your waist, holding you close, and when you pull back, his forehead presses to yours, breath warm against your lips.

You turn again, settling back against his chest to watch the girls for a moment longer, listening to the rush of the tide.

Then you glance back at him, feeling brave. Feeling full.

“Where do you think we’ll be in another three years?” you ask, leaning into his chest.

He huffs a soft laugh, kissing your hair.

“Wherever you are,” he says simply. “That’s where I’ll be.”

And you believe him. It feels so good to have full promises again.

You tilt your head back, catching his lips in a kiss that tastes like salt and sun and a future you’re both ready for.

And when you pull back, he’s smiling. Really smiling.

“Come on,” he says, tugging you gently to your feet. “Let’s go get our girls.”

“Yeah,” you reply, fingers threading through his. “Let’s go home.”

And you do. Together.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

it was so daunting finishing everything off, but i hope its okay!

🏷️ : @dragonscribble @coldnightshark @huntyhuntycunty @thychuvaluswife @boojaynaqueen @kalulakunundrum @purplegaussianprocess @harryzcherry @bubbleguppieshh @geekessi @itzjustj-1000 @nuo0n @hana-patata  @ilovemushroomss @notokinthehead @obsessedwiththesturniolos @djlance-rock @j1tterbugaboo @ch3rryjampi3 @gayheterosexual @hauntedstudentobservationus @onlyisaa @rika-chan-12 @eddie-bonzo @meikoo @barrythestrawberry041 @littlestinkybastardman @incognit7 @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @sachikomwahxx @d4rlinxs @eyesforbkg @akiii143 @eternallyshifting @sukuxna0 @cremthehive @uhsakusa @mentallystablesstuff @gabby-ha @kelz-69 @js-favnanadoongi @bakugouswh0r3 @kinichlover1298 @yikesdudesstuff @armeenix  @sirerzafolchart @juiceeypeach @sukistar10 @amiime @asteraslvrr @teeesthings @charlotterosea13 @g3n3v13v33 @kiberrymatcha @urmamastits @biancatomlinson

general taglist 🏷️ : @cristy-101 @cielito--lindo @waterfal-ling

good girl

❥ note: i got a new rollerball perfume with this name and it smells. so good. also, so sorry this is late! school has been absolutely insane and i’ve barely had any time to write :,)

“what’s that smell?” he asks, staring at you intently. it’s hard to tell if he’s displeased—his brows are furrowed, maybe with confusion.

suddenly self conscious, you ask, “is it bad?”

he pauses, inhaling through his nose. “not at all. i just…” he trails off for a moment, distracted, staring off into space as he thinks. “something smells really, really good.”

he then turns his attention back to you. he takes a step toward you, inhaling again. 

“it’s you,” he says, now standing so close that you have to look up to see his face. 

so, so gently, he places a hand on the back of your neck, carefully turning your head. he brushes your hair back, exposing your skin. you feel your heart beating in your throat, your face warming at the intimacy of it all. 

he leans in and you can feel his breath on your neck. he takes a deep breath, like he can’t get enough. “you smell really really good.”

“thank you,” you say, hoping he can’t tell how hot your face is getting. “it’s perfume.”

“mm,” he says, breathing in again. “what’s it called?”

he then pulls away, but his hand remains. it’s so, so warm, emanating heat through the rest of your body. his eyes meet yours, making your already stuttering heart skip a beat. 

“it’s called,” you start, and look away. you don’t want to say. 

“go on,” he says, turning your head to face him again. 

“it’s called good girl,” you finally admit, face on fire. 

a slow grin spreads across his face. “perfect for you,” he whispers, “can’t wait to smell it on my hoodies.”

❥ with: asahi, iwaizumi, akaashi, oikawa, sakusa, ushijima, tanaka

---

Blushing Todoroki to heal our souls uwu 

---

THE REVERSED CINDERELLA TALE

“I’m sorry MC, but you can’t go to the ball~”.

SUMMARY: NRC decides to host a ball in collaboration with RSA, but our dear prefect is not invited. Yet, the night of the ball, something strange happens… (Everyone + Neige and Che’nya x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: This is pretty long. Mentions of sadness, I guess (Excuse me, I suck at putting warnings).

CONTENT: Ortho's part is platonic. Crowley being an ass, but like, it was unintentional, really. As I said, this is pretty long, mostly because it has every character separately, plus dress transformation. WORDS: 9K+

A/N: I still feel bad since I lost all the content I had before, but it’s okay, I’m glad I saved everything separately because if I didn’t… I wouldn’t be uploading this in the first place.

Also, if you want to use this as inspiration for sketches, go on! I remembered a certain comment which asked for permission, and I certainly don't mind! Now onto the fic~

Crowley really has the worst timing.

You were just about to drink a vase of water, throat dry because you passed the whole day with the first years. That’s when the door opened, leaving you to almost drop the cup, your reflexes making it possible.

“Crowley! What the hell!?”, you whisper yelled, looking at Grim turning in the sofa, far away in his dreamland.

It wasn’t unusual for the kind headmaster to show up with such… Theatrics, but this was certainly a new and unwelcomed entrance.

“I apologise for the sudden intrusion, but there’s has been an incident!”, he exclaimed, and you shushed him, leading him to whisper his next sentence. “You see, the ball of Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College is near its due date…”.

Indeed, the ball featuring both of the most prestigious schools in Twisted Wonderland was drawing near; it started as a “friendly” way to make their students socialize, soon turning into a way to exhibit who had the most graceful gentleman.

“Yeah, and? I thought everything was fine, Che’nya told me this morning that the arrangements were almost done”.

“Me and the Royal Sword Academy headmaster have gotten some complaints indicating that we should not allow you or Grim assist to the ball due to your dorm not being an official part of the school”, ah, so that was the reason of the nervous tone. “I would refuse, but the grievances come from certain parents with high status and- “.

You interrupted. “Don’t worry Crowley, it’s understandable that you don’t want to make such powerful enemies. Grim on the other hand…”, you spared a glance at the sleeping being, already imagining what kind of reaction he would have.

“I appreciate your understanding, yet that’s not what I wanted to discuss”.

“Huh?”.

“Some of your friends know about this, and I’m afraid they’re… How can I say this…? A little erratic”.

You sighed, knowing exactly what the meant by that. “Are you scared of them?”.

“Me? Of course not! I’m the headmage! But it would be helpful if you intervened”.

“They can’t be that bad, I’ll go talk to them”.

Oh, it can be that bad. Not overblot case bad, but it’s much more chaotic than you thought it would be.

You walked towards the dining hall, place where all of them got the news. You felt bad for the other students who had to run away because of the outburst.

Once you enter the hall, there was only a way you can describe the situation: encasing every reaction in a specific group.

First, we have the erratic behaviour, as Crowley mentioned earlier: students who are enraged because you cannot go to the ball. Here we have Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Floyd, Vil, Epel, Malleus and Sebek. Some are just snappy, such as Leona or Vil, and Riddle is trying to not let the anger overcome him. The rest are tagged as official menaces.

The second is the quiet group, the scariest of them all. Even if you tried, you can’t fathom what their expressions are hiding, exuding an eerie aura that has everyone shivering. The most students of this group are Azul, Jade, Rook, Idia and Lilia, the most dangerous combination to ever exist.

The last but not least group is the one that has every sane person, and the ones that are near sanity. They are so busy trying to control the furious trope that they don’t realise why they’re mad in the first place. Trey, Cater, Ruggie, Jack, Kalim, Jamil, Ortho and Silver are the ones in this category.

You yelled as loud as you could in order to gain their attention, everyone’s head turning when recognising the familiar voice.

“What’s going on here!?”.

“MC/Prefect!”, they jolted, abruptly stopping dead in their tracks.

“I thought Crowley was exaggerating when he told me that you were, and I quote, erratic, but this is absurd!”, you whined in annoyance, not believing the scene in front of you, much less believing the reason behind it.

“Ah, well, this was just, uh…”, Ace was trying to find the correct words to not make you angrier, eyes evading yours as you send him a cold glare.

“We were practicing for, uh…!”, Deuce’s desperation showed up in order to think of an excuse, and you had enough of it.

“Do you think I’m dumb?”, the bitter words came out as venom, not only being directed at the young boy but at everyone, seeing how you shared your discontent look with all of them. “Is this because of the ball?”.

There was a brief silence before it was cut off again by Malleus.

“Child of Man, I think that this decision is an act of unfairness towards you”, his comment made way to other ones, clearly displeased with the agreement.

“You have done so much for this school!”, blurted out Kalim.

“It’s an improper choice after all the effort you’ve put, since this event is for congratulating students for their excelling performances”, Jade remarked, slight annoyance in his voice.

Soon, the hall was filled with different arguments, and yet again, you had to yell.

“Guys, I know that it may be unfair, but I’m okay with it; you all could get expelled for doing this!”, more than anger, your voice was full of concern, worried because of their impulsive actions.

“Shrimpy, aren’t you upset?”, Floyd tilted his head, not comprehending why you weren’t showing any strong emotion at the news.

“Certainly Mademoiselle, you must feel at least the slightest bit offended, don’t you?”, Rook asked, also tilting his head.

“What I think about it doesn’t matter, the decision it’s made and there’s nothing else to do other than accept it, and you must do the same”, you sighed, all the stress leaving your body with that long exhale. “You shouldn’t make a fuss over this; there will be other events I can participate to”.

“And what if there aren’t any ‘other events’?”, the abrupt question coming from Leona made you think, and after some seconds you chuckled.

“If that’s the case then I guess I can always make my own”, your quick response had everyone gasp in cuteness, some were more dramatic than others but the gasp was there.

“My, is this an angel speaking to us?”, Lilia said, his teasing tone having you think it was a joke, which it wasn’t.

“Less talk, more work”, and with that note, the students were forced to start their cleaning duties, not really minding it since you were there.

While you were picking up some broken pieces of wood, an idea came to your mind, making you do a soft smile as you thought about the outcome.

ONE WEEK LATER

The ball day was here, and everyone was shining in their own lights, their tuxedos matching their distinctive colours as they added some characteristic details to it.

The week after the incident, everything was pretty chill; they reluctantly agreed to leave the topic alone to please you, switching it to their fashion choices or practicing some basic dance moves.

You were greatly surprised when seeing them all before the event, cheering them up as you told them that they looked handsome, making some of the boy’s blush. “I hope you enjoy the ball!”.

You bid them goodbye, making sure everyone was out of sight so you could return to Ramshackle, home to the angry creature named Grim.

“How can they not invite the great Grim to their boring party!? That’s unacceptable!” you laughed at his antics, caressing his fur to soothe his ire.

“Should I remind you that I was also excluded?”, he let out a cute groan, curling into your lap to comfort himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya’ say henchman. By the way, why’re ya’ using that dress?”, he lazily signalled the simple gown you were wearing, closing his eyes when you reached an icky spot.

“I don’t know, I saw it at Sam’s and decided to bought it, does it look bad?”.

“I didn’t say that, it’s just weird you’re using it now…”.

Both you and Grim decided to get out of Ramshackle, sitting on the shore of the pond that was near the old building, the quiet and magical atmosphere worth the outing.

Grim’s soft snores were heard in the solitude of the forest, some fireflies appearing to make the scene look like it came straight out of a painting.

“Am I upset?”, you asked yourself, quoting the words from last week.

Truthfully, you did care about not being invited to the ball. Your excitement vanished the moment the headmaster started explaining why you couldn’t assist.

You started to wonder if that meant that your efforts were going to be unappreciated, until you remembered that they weren't. The friends you made here made you feel at home, even though most of them were sceptical about befriending you at first, oblivious to the fact that they started to look at you with heart eyes.

You started to sing a lullaby you constantly heard during your childhood, a calm harmony that brought you peace in moments like this, when you were about to cry out of confusion and sadness.

Your voice acted as anaesthesia for the little Grim, humming contently as you gently stood up, holding him like a baby as you started to dance around.

Unbeknown to you, a wandering fairy heard the enchanting lyric; her pointy ears perked up in curiosity as she approached slowly, her small form making it impossible for you to take notice of, too focused in your dancing solo.

The small, fantastic individual started to hum along. Deeming you as a friend, and not a threat, she closed the distance between you both, a giggle leaving her mouth as she sat on your shoulder, surprised when you didn’t saw her.

She stayed silent, lightly grasping the soft material of your dress so she wouldn’t fall, hearing in joy as you continued your lively tune.

Your steps were feather like, slowly spinning while leaving the forest, now strolling through the dark corridors of the academy. It may seem a little eerie seeing it as an outsider, but everything you could think of was the enchanting lyrics, the absence of light not resembling an issue as you resume the melodious piece.

It was a matter of time when you got to the giant ballroom, passing through an open door as you heard a lively composition that matched yours, smiling wider until you collided with someone.

You woke up from your trance, your previously calm state being replaced by worry as you bow to the person in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t my intention to…”, you spared a quick glance at the boy’s face, mouth agape when realising who it was, the little fairy hiding as soon as she saw the unknown person. “Neige?”.

“Ah! MC, I was looking for you!”, said the young boy, cheeks dusted of a light pink. “I was afraid you didn’t appear, but I’m so happy I found you!”.

That woke up Grim, aside from all the chit chatter of the room.

“Nyah!? Henchman, where are we!?”, he jumped off your arms, falling nose-first on the marble floor.

“I may have brought us while dancing…”, you confessed, ashamed of not noting it sooner. “I’m sorry Neige, but we and Grim have to go before Crowley spots us”.

“Not so fast! I want to check the food! With that amount I’m sure they won’t notice one or two dishes missing…”, his mischievous smile threw you off guard, sighing at his intentions.

“Grim, come on, we can’t…”.

“It would be a pleasure! The banquet is right there!”, said the naïve boy, signalling a large table with lots of different dishes.

In less than a second, Grim was already there, filling his mouth with everything his little paws could hold on to.

“Grim!”, the frustration was there, but you couldn’t show it, not wanting to make a scene, but you were certain that some students were already glancing your way.

The kind-hearted boy looked at you with pure adoration, trying his best to hide it as he took your hand in his; all while the little fairy, still hidden, tried to think about what she could do to “help” you.

NEIGE LEBLANCHE

The gown was sky blue, white grading in the top and sleeves with some yellow sparks. Your hair was now short, curled at the ends and portraying a red lace on the top, a cute bow placed on it.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you… Would you like to dance with me?”.

“I guess I can, I’m already here, aren’t I?”.

Dear, you just made Neige the happiest man alive. The dwarfs were in their way to talk with him, but when they noticed the huge smile that he portrayed, decided to keep their distance so you could have your perfect moment.

That was interrupted when he stopped, pointing at your dress that had changed abruptly. You were surprised, obviously, but there wasn’t a major reaction from you, since you’re in a world of magic after all. Him on the other hand was completely flustered, trying to think of a compliment as he kept dancing.

He’s a good dancer, but his steps resemble those of a child dancing, in a good way obviously, it’s pretty fun and refreshing to waltz with him.

Laughing time was over when a shout was heard, coming from a certain red hair.

 “Prefect!?”, yelled the first years, their loud scream attracting even more attention. You just hoped Crowley didn’t hear it; he didn’t, but the others surely did.

And now you’re scared because Vil had a questioning look in his face. If he did saw the dance, may the Sevens let you rest in peace.

“Ah, hey guys!”, you backed away from Neige, who in response pouted, sad at the loss of contact.

 “What are you doing here!?”, they asked, a combination of confusion and excitement washing over them.

“I don’t know, I was enjoying my solitude, dancing alone and when I looked up I was here, dressed like this”, you slightly lifted the dress for emphasis, frowning when everyone shut up. “Uh, guys-?”.

“Please dance with me!”, most of them screamed at once, having to cover your ears because it was so sudden and very much not appreciated.

And just like a week ago, that led to everyone argue about who should dance with you.

You were about to stop them again, but someone took advantage of the situation, bringing his hands to your waist.

CHE’NYA

The gown was of a light lilac, along with some stripes that were just a few shades apart, white sleeves added to the palette. Your hair was still short, but it changed the style to a light messy pixie cut with some mauve highlights.

“Isn’t this such an entertaining scenario, nya~?”.

“I think is more of a dangerous scenario, incredible to think they’re fighting over such a stupid thing”.

Oh, MC, is that what you think of yourself? This is not a stupid thing, dancing with you is enough to make the most ferocious man drop on their knees, mesmerized by your beauty.

And he certainly would do that just by seeing you with a dress matching his attire. While you don’t know why or how this is happening, he’s grinning widely because you look so beautiful, the slightest shade of pink covering his cheeks as he throws some funny comments, lighting up the mood.

Dancing with him is amusing, to say the least, sometimes disappearing his body, leaving you to dance with a floating head.

Ace, the moment breaker, does his thing once again, his loud shrieks rivalling those of Sebek.

 “Ah, she’s dancing with the disappearing guy!”, they all turned their heads, most of them having a vein about to pop up from the anger.

 “It seems that I’m not welcomed, but at least we will be together the next week, goodbye~!”, and with that, he disappeared, again.

Remember that scene when Rapunzel was calming Maximus down? That was the exact thing you had to do with the most enraged students, thanking the unwanted dress for acting as a distractor.

“If you care that much about dancing with me, I can dance with all of you, only if you promise that you would not cause more mess; I’m already walking on a thin line just by being here”.

Silence. You tapped your foot impatiently at that.

“Promise that you would not cause more mess”, it was more of a demand than a request, but it worked when they all repeated your words, humming in approval.

“Great, so who’s the first?”.

Quickly realising your mistake, you spoke again before everything reverted to a few minutes ago. “Wait, maybe it would be better to do this by dorm order, Heartslabyul will go first”.

It was then when the troublemakers of said dorm started to dispute over who should dance with you first; Ace proclaimed that he should because he met you first, and Deuce responded by exposing his terrible behaviour towards you the first time you met.

Tired of this, you grabbed Ace’s hand, being the first pick because, well, both Ace and Deuce were right.

ACE TRAPPOLA

The gown was of a cheerful ruby colour, the sleeves were wine and since it was Heartslabyul inspired, had a chess design along with some hearts in the skirt. Your hair was tied in a loose braid, a heart shaped accessory placed in the side.

“Are you that excited to dance with me, Prefect?”.

“Deuce was right, you were the first nuisance I met, I thought it was obvious”.

He groaned in embarrassment, recalling the awful treatment he had with you, wishing it would have gone somewhat different.

When he was about to change the subject when your dress changed yet again. You said that that probably was going to happen all night, and that he shouldn’t pay attention to this Barbie style transition.

He definitely doesn’t know what is a Barbie, but he refuses to not pay attention to the dress, teasing you about it, trying to make you blush. That’s where the tables turned and you teased him, making him blush. Great, you broke Ace.

He dances in a messy manner, but he can be serious when he wants to, so I would say it’s a 50/50 final rating.

Sighing at this, you decided it was time to change partners, leaving his hands so you could grab Deuce’s ones. Expect him to be more annoying, maybe even sending Deuce some threatening glares.

DEUCE SPADE

The gown was navy blue, in its majority, a few hints of cerulean peeking up the skirt, the same chess design with some deuces in the corset. Your hair had a bun, it was loose but it didn’t look messy, just a few strands of hair that were out, along with a deuce hairpin.

“You… You look beautiful, Prefect”.

“Thank you Deuce, you also look handsome, but… Your face is very red”.

It’s because he wasn’t prepared for this. Did his mother tell him what to do when dancing with a girl whose dress magically changes every time she changes partners? No, he’s sure she’s not.

As a fun fact, Deuce’s mother sensed something was going on with her son; when Deuce told her what happened, words couldn’t describe how happy she got.

When he does notice the dress, he stays still, not moving for a few seconds until you bring him back to earth, worried about his sudden redness. MC, please, you’re going to kill the poor boy.

His mother tried to teach him how to dance a few times, so he isn’t that inexperienced as one would think, but the problem is that he’s dancing with you, and that makes things complicated.

He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or sad when you move to continue dancing with Cater. Maybe both, but it’s not like he can’t say something, he still respects his upperclassman even though he wanted to keep dancing with you.

CATER DIAMOND

The gown was of a bright tangerine, a soft shade of red covering the sleeves. A pattern of diamonds was outlined in the corset, subtly placed on it so it wasn’t too flashy. Your hair resembled his, the top part tied back into a ponytail and the rest hanged straight, curling at the ends.

“If I posted this on Magicam, a lot of people will get super jealous of you!”.

“As if, I’m pretty average, I don’t know why someone will get jealous of me”.

Your kindness, tolerance, intelligence, looks, should he keep going? There’s a ton of reasons people will envy you, and he means that as a good thing, really; in his eyes you’re the most stunning person to ever exist.

And apparently you can change clothes magically, we can add that to the list as well.

His dancing is playful, but he’s fairly skilled, talking about random things while he swiftly moves one feet after the other.

He resists the impulse of taking his phone out and taking selfies non-stop, not wanting to disturb you or weird you out in such a moment, when in reality you’re pretty chill about it. If only he knew about it, he would have had thousands of pictures of you and your dazzling self.

He only does it when it’s time to swap, posing with you as he takes a quick snap, posting it with the hashtags: #ballroomprincess #howjusthow #thebeautyandthebeauty, and so on.

TREY CLOVER

The gown was pine, the dark shade of green matching with Trey’s. It seemed to be more nature-like, clovers all around it. Your hair was asymmetrical, and it barely touched your shoulders, looking a little spiky, yet it still looked stylish.

“I thought you weren’t allowed to come, did Grim drag you here?”.

“It’s a long story, but Grim’s the one that made me stay; by the end of the night there will probably be no food left to eat”.

Which is a shame because he prepared a few desserts, Che’nya suggestion, and he wanted you to try some of them specially to see your sparkling eyes as you took bite after bite. Oh well, it would have to wait until Heartslabyul’s next tea party.

But it seems he’s gotten a new sight, you in a dress that magically changed and it’s now matching with him. He doesn’t ask about it, letting himself enjoy this brief moment with you.

He’s a good dancer, and his tall figure makes him look elegant while he waltzes with you, the atmosphere breaking when you switch to a huffing Riddle.

He sighs, leaving your hand so it would take his dorm leader’s. He starts to wonder how he can pass more time with you, maybe a baking date session would make you accept.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The gown is scarlet and white, hints of black but mostly to softly outline the roses and the hearts placed on it, looking fairly fancier than the other ones, like his dorm uniform. Your hair was in a bun, velvety like for the little crown that was on top to stay still.

“I… I’m surprised to see you here, Prefect”.

“I was surprised as well, but you get accustomed to it… Ah, Riddle, are you alright?”.

He can’t control the blush that creeps up his face. He nods, wanting to look at you in the eyes, yet he can’t help but feeling flustered when you tilt your head in confusion, trying to make eye contact.

Sevens, his mother would be so disappointed at this, what would she say if she found her son wasn’t following proper ball manners? And then he remembers that his mother isn’t there, only you, knowing that you didn’t really care about those in the first place, and he doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or frustrated.

When he sees the dress, he stops dancing for a few moments before continuing, finding the explanation weirder than the dress itself. But he has a limited amount of time and he prefers spending it dancing than trying to find the reasoning of this; even he’s surprised by this thought too.

As said before, his mother taught him how to waltz, so he has experience doing it. Now when it comes to the part of actually dancing… He needs to polish it a little, but the knowledge is there.

Speaking of which, he knows it’s over when you have to shift partners, Leona being the next one. His snarky grin he sends at him is almost enough for him to explode, Trey noticing this and immediately trying to calm him down. Perhaps he can include some ball elements to some of his tea parties, definitely not to spend those with you, no no yes.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

The gown is of a sand colour, golden details all over it to make it look like it was a royal dress; a satin, brown scarf placed elegantly on your arms. A braided chignon hairstyle made it easier to carry a golden tiara on it.

“You really like being in trouble, huh? I didn’t think you would sneak here, herbivore”.

“I like to think that since I come here, I’ve became a Jack in the Box full of surprises, don’t you agree?”.

Sure you are, not only you sneaked in here, but you also sneaked your way into your heart. He’s not stupid, and he won’t say you are, but what he can say it’s that you are pretty dense. Well, in your defence, you do know he treats women differently, so how are you supposed to guess the fondness he shows at you?

This is one of the few, rare moments where you get to see a shocked Leona, his eyes widening at remodelling of your dress, tail swinging in glee. You really are a box full of surprises, aren’t you? He doesn’t know what he should say, choosing to stay quiet, enjoying the calmness that you made him feel.

He would never say out loud though. At least, not now.

He has a royal background, so it makes sense that he knows at least the slightest bit of dancing manners, and he shows that while waltzing with you.

The moment doesn’t last long as you start to back up from him in a strange manner, and his eyes soon found out the reason why. He growls at this, that hyena is going to pay it off for the next days. Either way, he would have done it even if he didn’t intervene.

RUGGIE BUCCHI

The gown is of a dark fawn, blonde highlights in the neckline. Compared to Leona’s, this was more wild-like, giving a light, rustic impression. Your hair had a back Dutch braid, the mid-length complementing the whole look.

“Hey, Prefect, didn’t expect to see you here. And to imagine that everyone made a fuss 'bout this, shi shi shi~”.

“Yeah, I think everybody thinks the same here. There wasn’t really need for you to use your unique magic, I think Leona got mad at it”.

Effectively, he got mad at it and because he stole you. Fair enough, he thinks he can endure a few days of Leona’s working, that meant he got to see you more than him since he would be running his errands.

When he saw the dress, oh boy, man was trying so hard to not blush. The only way to prevent that was by teasing you; just make sure to don’t tease him back, he doesn’t think he can’t handle it.

He knows how to dance, so he’s pretty fluent when waltzing with you, making some “accidental” mistakes so you would step closer to him. That backfires when you cheekily laugh, and the blush he tried to contain creeped up his face.

Just when he thought you were going to see it, you released him, and he was left holding nothing as you giggled at this reaction, now dancing with his underclassman. He frowned but didn’t want to make you mad by using the same tactic, so he let it be.

JACK HOWL

The gown was pearl, similar to the one you were using earlier except that this one was fancier. The skirt had some light golden designs, a few hints of black on it to contrast. Your hair was tied in a classy ponytail, fluffy and shiny, much like his fur when he’s in his wolf form.

“You could get in trouble for being here, don’t you know that?”.

“I’m sorry, do you want me to go?”.

Short answer, no. Long answer, he’s very happy that you’re here, literally everyone can tell just by looking at his tail, wagging uncontrollably. If you try to say something about it, he will deny it, even though it’s still wagging.

He can’t dance that well, but he’s trying, and that’s what counts. Besides, it’s not that noticeable, maybe a few stomps on your feet but nothing too serious.

This dress causes him to leave a quiet gasp, mouth agape for a few seconds until his mind tells him that he should ask you why and what was that transformation. You respond sincerely, telling him that you don’t know and that he should just ignore it.

Like hell he’ll be ignoring this, it’s not something you can so easily ignore, but for the sake of his dignity, he will try. Keyword try, begging that you don’t start to ask questions about his state.

Apparently, you heard his pleads, muttering a little ‘goodbye’ as you now danced with Octavinelle’s sly, but nervous, octopus. He sighs, he didn’t mean it like this, but it was something that was meant to happen soon or later. More soon than later.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

The gown was of a greyish cloud colour, platinum adornments on it that make it look elegant, even though it seemed to approach more of a softer side. A waterfall braid embellishing the “marine” style look.

“My, if it isn’t the Prefect. I’m greatly surprised to see you here, and I also see you’ve made some major changes in your attires”.

“Those aren’t intentional, I swear I don’t know where they’re coming from, but they’re nice, I think”.

Nice? That’s how you would describe them? Your sole being is enough for him to lose his businessman composure, and now you do this, this… How did you call it? Barbie transition? He wasn’t hearing the conversation you had with Ace, what are you implying?

He’s already having a hard time to not let his façade break down, afraid that you may not like him if he showed any weakness, and that’s when he saw the dress, now matching his outfit. Although he still is smiling, what gives him away is the huge blush and his “subtle” coughing, trying to convince himself that he can still talk to you normally, like every other day.

Until he remembers that you don’t usually talk while waltzing, and that is enough for him to sigh in relief, now focusing in not stepping over your feet because of his nervousness.

He knows how to dance, it’s just because of the nerves and the feeling of your curious eyes staring up at him.

A tall figure places himself next to him, and he doesn’t need to look up to know who is, slightly refusing to let you go. Yet he knows that it would not end well for him; the mischievous eel would definitely use this as teasing material. He figures he can make a dance night in the Lounge, only you and him.

JADE LEECH

The gown was teal, and it seemed to be made of a shiny material, some purple laces tied on it as it had a tight and long bow on the left side. You portrayed a half up left side braid, clearly resembling his long streak of dark-grey hair framing his left side.

“You look marvellous tonight, Prefect; may it be because of your presence or your magical dress?”.

“Very funny. Obviously, it’s the dress, the one that I didn’t know had magical properties when I bought it, but thanks for noting my presence”.

Wrong. The dress certainly was a boost to your natural charming nature, but saying that was the only cause of your fascinating self would be an understatement, after all, the main thing Jade and Floyd finds fascination in is how interesting is the person in question, and for him to have romantic feelings for you? With that you can already imagine what he thinks of you.

He waits for the moment your dress changes, and when it does he leaves an amused chuckle. But surprisingly enough, he doesn’t say anything about it, rather enjoying your reactions at it and your comforting company.

He excels at dancing, even making it more difficult for you to keep the pace, and yet again an entertained noise leaves his mouth. He slows down a little, not wanting to exhaust you, as your next partner would be his energetic twin.

Speaking of the devil, he can’t wait for much longer, whining to you both that he wants to dance with you. He leaves no room for complaints, and so you are separated from Jade, who finds this situation more than lively. If Azul ever decides to tell him about his idea of the dance night in the Lounge, he would be more than delighted to share some of his suggestions.

FLOYD LEECH

This gown was the twin of Jade's, also teal and shiny, the purple bow now sided on the right, now messier and easy looking. Your hair is, again, in a half up right-side braid. Similar to the concept of the dark-grey streak of hair on his right side.

“Shrimpy~! Why didn’t you tell me that you were here? We could have passed more time together~!”.

“Sorry Floyd, my mind was a bit of a mess before I got here. But I’m here now, doesn’t that make you happy?”.

He lets out a cute ‘yay~!’, and you are wondering how someone can be so adorable and so frightening at the same time, as his pout quickly disappeared after your kind-hearted question.

He has the same train thought that his brother, and waits for your dress to change. He’s a little disappointed when he sees it at first, I mean, doesn’t it look the same? Until he notices those small details that allure to his right side highlight, and his smile widens so much you can even see his back teeth.

His Shrimpy surely knows how to make him happy! How is he supposed to stop smiling so widely when you can become more interesting by the second? Be warned, this man wouldn’t let you in peace after this, but that applies to almost everything that you do, because for him everything you do can be interesting, and even if they’re not, he would make them interesting just by joining you.

His dancing is… Different. It’s not ballroom dance, that’s for sure, but why should he follow such boring rules when he can have fun spinning you? You agree to some level, but your stomach doesn’t.

He pouts when you try to change, expressively refusing to let you go. He only agrees to when you say you would pass more time with him after, most likely hovering over you the rest of the night. He sure is an Octavinelle student.

KALIM AL ASIM

The gown was of a really light and shiny yellow, almost looking like it was made of gold, softly transitioning to a silver white in the sleeves and neckline. Your hair had a braided crown, a turban like his slightly covering it.

“I’m glad you’re here Prefect! I was going to throw a ball for you since I thought you would miss this one!”.

“There’s no need for that Kalim, but I appreciate the gesture, you’re very sweet”.

You think he’s sweet?

Now nothing is stopping him now from actually throwing a ball in your honour. He usually doesn’t think much when it comes to give you gifts and hosting parties for you, no selfish intention behind it, but if this makes you say that he’s sweet again? He doesn’t have any second thoughts about it, much to Jamil’s annoyance.

When he sees the dress he exclaims a loud ‘wow’, like really loud, he even stops dancing for a couple of seconds because of the initial shock. He didn’t know you could do this, MC, this is awesome! Oh, you didn’t do it? It doesn’t matter, it’s still awesome and nothing can change his mind.

He knows how to dance, and surprisingly, he takes it seriously. His steps are firm, contrasting with his saccharine smile.

He sees Jamil aside, a slight frown as he keeps his gaze locked on the floor, and he decides it’s time to change partners, making you do a twirl and practically throwing you at Jamil’s arm, giving him a thumbs up. He can dance with you later when you come to Scarabia, and by later is tomorrow! He’s just too excited!

JAMIL VIPER

The gown was black, little touches of a flaming red on it, mostly placed on the sleeves to emphasize a fire-like emblem, a golden snake tracing your waist gracefully. A braided bun with a large lock of hair standing on the side of your face, similar to his.

“Aren’t you tired? I’m sure all this dancing is exhausting for you”.

“I’m fine, this is better than watching soap operas alone while Grim sleeps, his snores are so loud I can’t enjoy the drama”.

Watching what? We all know Jamil isn’t much of a trendy and he doesn’t follow the latest entertainment, so he’s confused when you explain this to him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t intrigued, maybe if he wasn’t so busy he could watch this “soap operas” with you, only if you want to though; his worst nightmare is making you uncomfortable.

The transition has him even more confused, and he hopes he had his hoodie right now to hide his face in it, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you because of that stupid cute blush. He asks about it, and he sighs when you told him the story we already know, already expecting something like this, it’s you who we’re talking about after all.

He’s an A+ dancer, and the great thing about dancing with him is that he understands you can’t follow his moves and accustoms to your moves, making you feel at ease and welcomed.

When he spins you, Pomefiore’s house warden takes your hand in his, now taking the position as your current partner. He leaves a bothered noise, awkwardly staring at you and the Magicam star.

VIL SCHOENHEIT

The gown was black, a violet robe placed on it in a similar fashion like Vil's, the most outstanding feature being its length. Your hair had a side French braid up-do, a tilted golden tiara on it.

“It seems that you’ve finally taken my fashion suggestion, potato”.

“The answer may disappoint you, Vil, but this is not my doing. Although it’s fancy, it can’t rival yours”.

He can’t agree with that; sure, he’s dressed elegantly and his makeup is perfectly done, but that doesn’t mean you’re inferior than him. You’re one of the few people that don’t have the title of “potato” in his head, even though he has it like a nickname for you, but he sees it as an endearing term and he low-key hopes you see it as well. He never really understood the concept of “inner beauty” before meeting you, now getting its meaning.

Vil’s a professional actor, so he only shows the slightest hint of surprise when your dress changes. His blush isn’t a noticeable one, and even if it was, he could have just said that it was a new product, knowing you would believe him. He finds your naïve nature confusing; Neige is naïve, and that bothers him, because he’s Neige, but when it comes to you is just… Endearing.

You’ve practiced with him quite a few times, using it as an excuse to see you since he was pretty busy with the clothing arrangement the week prior to the ball, not really expecting to actually dance with you.

You spot the astute hunter behind him; deciding it was time to change, he reluctantly released you, his face betraying as he scoffed at this, softly enough so you wouldn’t hear it.

ROOK HUNT

The gown was of an iris purple, a short, red cape hovering over your shoulders, looking a lot like a hunter's cape, a black neckline completing the Pomefiore’s colour palette. Your hair was wavy, bob styled, matching with Rook's.

“Quelle beauté! Your beauty is nothing I can ever compare, for it is so endearing that my heart flutters at this magnifique sight!”.

“Wow, I… I don’t know what to say- Thank you, Rook. That’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve said to me, and I encounter you every single day”.

You really think so? Then you should listen to his poetry, dozens of poems dedicated solely to you placed neatly in his drawer, ready for you to read them, or, even better, he can read them to you! He recites them every time he thinks about you, so he knows them by heart.

He’s great at acting, but why should he act when he’s genuinely happy of having you this close? He doesn’t see the appeal in it, he wants you to see how much appreciation he has for you, continuing to spill carefully planned comments, even forgetting about the fact that your dress has just magically transformed. The hovering attention has you stuttering, and he leaves a content sigh at your reaction, basking in your cuteness.

He’s the vice dorm leader of Pomefiore, he knows how to dance, and his gracefulness is something you did expect from him, so there’s no surprises in this part.

He doesn’t put a fight when you have to switch to your next partner, only making a dramatic sight and saying something corny like: “May fate reunite us again”. Rook, you’re going to see MC tomorrow, calm down.

EPEL FELMIER

The gown was lavender, an apple red cloak covering your bare shoulders, the interior being of a velvety black. Your hair was tied in a low, twisted ponytail, some golden apple hairpins on the side.

“Ya’ look pretty… I mean, you look great, Prefect!”.

“Thank you Epel, but you know that you don’t have to hide the accent when you’re with me, right?”.

He forgets how thoughtful you are, how he doesn’t have to act like the perfect boy Vil wants him to be, and how you don’t think of him as weak just because of his “feminine” looks. He’s thankful for that- Correction, he’s thankful for you.

He maybe in Pomefiore, but he has no acting skills, backing off you for a few seconds because of the surprise, immediately recovering from it upon seeing your confused expression. He didn’t mean it as a bad reaction, he saw it before, but he still doesn’t know why or how you do this, only to receive the explanation that you aren’t the one changing your dress, jokingly telling him that if you could do that you wouldn’t be broke. Sad facts, MC, sad facts.

He’s an average dancer. He’s had so many, so many classes with Vil graved in his skull, but not on his body, so he constantly looks at his feet and even like that he makes some mistakes, but nothing you can’t correct.

It was hard to switch partners this time, only because Ignihyde’s gloomy dorm leader was hidden in the crowd. When you did spot him, you had to make your best try at making it as smooth as possible, waving Epel goodbye, who in return waved you as well, being too nervous to actually protest.

IDIA SHROUD

The gown was indigo, the dark colour combining both of Ignihyde's characteristic style, adding some sapphire elements so it would look a little more "futuristic". Your hair had a classic half up-do, the volume matching with Idia's flame hair.

“How did you-? Forget it, of course it’s something the main character would do”.

“Aww, you think I’m the main character?”.

And now his hair is combusting into pink flames, good job MC.

He can’t believe he actually lived long enough to see you like this, and what’s worse better, you spotted him and wanted to dance with him. Is there some kind of manual for situations like this? Maybe he should ask in a forum? Is something he can actually ask? There’s a ton of questions and no answers, but those thoughts disappear when seeing you change of dress and hairstyle yet again.

His dancing skills are… Non-existing. This man doesn’t dance, you have to guide him in the entire waltz, and it’s difficult because he’s standing there, officially classifying as a rock.

You see his younger brother besides, and you can’t help but changing with him, wanting to have a bonding moment with the little boy. Idia’s froze in place, mind racing with thoughts of what could he have done to scare you- Oh, you’re dancing with Ortho, now he’s at ease.

ORTHO SHROUD

This one was a short dress, knee-length; it was lapis, layers of a translucent fabric covering the skirt, looking slightly lighter in colour. Your hair was simpler this time, a short and cute cut with a blue flame hair accessory.

“Hello MC! I’m happy you’re here, thank you for dancing with my brother, he seems much livelier now!”.

“Really? That’s nice to hear, Idia’s not the type to go to these events, so I’m happy if you both are happy!”.

He knows about his brother’s crush on you, and honestly speaking, Idia’s the one that has an advantage against everyone else: He has a cute brother who wants him to be happy. I’m sorry everyone, this is the truth.

This was actually pretty fun, his short height made it easier for you (or not, if you’re tall, can’t relate) to dance with him, and although he’s a robot, he can dance fairly well, giggling when you spin him.

He stops and says that it’s time to switch, according to the data he’s recollected during the night, and because a dragon-fae being is waiting just behind you.

MALLEUS DRACONIA

The gown was all black, the only other colour it had was a bright green, seen in the hem of the cape and the large lace that was tied in your waist. Your hair had a twisted royal bun, a dark crown over it with some black diamonds, outshining the hairstyle itself.

“You always manage to amuse me, Child of Man. May you join me in this dance?”.

“Your old-fashioned talking amuses me too, Tsunotarou, so I will try… It would be a pleasure, noble gentleman”.

The giggle that leaves your mouth after saying those words is music to his ears, holding you in such a fragile manner as if you were porcelain. When he does start waltzing, his eyes focus on yours and only yours; being with you like this makes him forget everything else, choosing to rather enjoy your presence and the warmth that it comes with it.

The dress does break his concentration, fixating his gaze on it for a few seconds before his eyes return to his initial position. It’s not that he doesn’t think you don’t look enchanting, you always do, but even if you wore a potato sack to the ball he would still think of you as his goddess. That’s how much he loves you.

He’s an exceptional dancer; he grew up in a royal environment after all, often practicing with his grandmother and Lilia, but he’s willing to slow down for you. And that’s when his mind wanders about dancing with you at night, the moonlight covering your smooth skin as you both dance till your feet hurt and- Where are you?

It seems he let himself out of guard and now you’re dancing with… His overseer. Did- Did Lilia just stole his Child of Man? DID LILIA JUST STOLE HIS CHILD OF MAN-?

He calms down, knowing that making a scene is considered rude, and so the only thing he can do is… Pout; so he’s now a sad and pouting dragon-fae.

LILIA VANROUGE

The gown was of an opaque magenta, the top being black with some leather belts tied on it. Your hairstyle was asymmetrical, mid-length with a resemblance to his own, some of it flipping upwards, looking like small horns.

“It’s endearing to see you here, dear. I was thinking of even bringing you with me~”.

“Thank you for not doing it, I don’t think I can endure another flying session…”.

That’s a shame, he loves when you cling onto him like your life depends on it, and it low-key does, but there’s nothing to worry about! He would never drop you or let you fall, not even him would joke like that.

He recognizes the type of magic that is causing this, and lo and behold he takes a glimpse at the hidden fairy behind you. He chuckles, not saying a thing to let the show continue, but he’s really intrigued by how you managed to get the attention of such a shy creature, soon remembering that of course it was attracted by you, everyone in this room could say the same.

He’s a good dancer, but he chooses to make it more fun by elevating you a few meters off the floor. You cling onto him, telling him to stop doing that as you slowly tried to reach the marble ground.

When it’s time to change, he spins you dramatically, and you fall right into the arms of the drowsy Diasomnia knight, who woke up at the sudden impact.

SILVER

The gown was white, some simple and silver patterns on it, maybe from a knight's armour. Your hair had a flower braid, specifically a rose, cascading down like a waterfall.

“Prefect…? Are you okay? You look a bit exhausted”.

“I’m fine, Silver, sorry to wake you up this way, it wasn’t my intention”.

He doesn’t mind if you are the one waking him up, and it’s not like this is the first time it has happened either; your clumsy friends always manage to make you fall, and conveniently for you, he’s there, be it catching you or cushioning your fall, but once again, he doesn’t mind.

If he’s being honest, he didn’t pay attention to the dress nor the hairstyle you were wearing at first, and how it magically transformed every time you changed partners, so this background leads him to make a baffled expression, mostly because he isn’t the greatest at showing emotions. He mutters some compliments, but the echoing walls don’t let you hear what he’s saying, much to his invisible frustration.

He’s a calm dancer, and it’s very much like dancing in a fairy forest, animals surrounding you as you continue to be invested in the harmonious waltz.

But that moment breaks when the last boy complains under his breath, probably because he was the only one that hadn’t had his dance with you, and with an apologetic smile, you go to him. He sighs, trying to stay awake, but failing at the end as his breathing regulates in his sleep.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

The gown was lime, some parts had a darker green and others had subtle white highlights. Your hair was now straight, twirling slightly at the ends, which touched your covered neck.

“I’ll give my all in this dance, human!”.

“I know, Sebek. You always give your all in everything you do~”.

Are you trying to use the same tactics you’ve used to seduce his young lord Malleus? That won’t work, human! He’s not weak to your charming smile and lovely eyes, he must stay alert to guard his master from any threats!

Less to say that is a terrible lie; he’s head over heels for you, but can’t express it, not even when the transformation happens for the last time, the enchanting dress and enticing hairstyle had him in a state of shock for five to ten seconds, and when he snaps out of it he wants aka sort of demands to know what’s the meaning of this. He shuts up after hearing that you also don’t know, feeling bad for all the shouting.

He’s a vigorous dancer, his moves are more energetic compared to the others, but not enough that you grow tired of it.

Since Sebek was the last one you were supposed to dance with, you sigh in relief, maybe you can finally rest and maybe even enjoy the rest of the night-

“Prefect! I must know what is the meaning of this!”, here it comes, the problem you wanted to evade.

“Headmaster, hello, I was just, uh…”, you tried to think of an excuse that made sense, even if you knew that everything you said would be a futile attempt to get out of the situation.

“She was making sure everything went perfectly; she helped with the organisation, after all”, announced Azul, him and the eels hiding your figure behind theirs.

“It’s our fault she’s here, we insisted she stayed”, added Riddle, unconsciously joining the barricade, as well as the other Heartslabyul students.

“I appreciate the worrying, but I explicitly said that she nor Grim could take part in this ball”.

“She helped with it, and for her to not be part of it was an act of unfairness”, said Malleus, his cold glare sending shivers down the spine of the kind headmaster.

“I understand your position, but- “, you went out, standing in front of Crowley.

“Guys, it’s okay, I’ll take Grim and then we would return to Ramshackle”, before they could even start complaining, a different voice joined the conversation.

“My, what is this commotion?”, it was the Royal Sword Academy headmaster, Ambrose the 63rd. “Oh, you must be the prefect I’ve been hearing a lot about, it’s nice to meet you”, he presented himself, and you did the same, somewhat intimidated of him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, sir. My name’s MC, and I know I shouldn’t be here but I assure you I was about to leave- “.

“Leave? Who said anything about that?”, your face shifted into a confused expression.

“I was told that some parents had a problem with me and Grim participating of this ball, so that’s why I thought that- “.

His amused laugh shut you up, baffled at this action. “Yes, that’s correct, but it would be cruel to send you home after you made all the way here”.

“Headmaster! The parents solicited- “.

“I know Crowley, but they’re not here, and this young lady has the right to enjoy the same things as their classmates. There shouldn’t be any problem since this is a private event”.

“But I- “.

“You heard that MC!? He said you can stay!”, exclaimed Kalim in excitement.

“I guess so”, you turned to the man that helped you, and bowed in gratefulness. “Thank you, Mr. Ambrose”.

“No worries, dear. Now if you let me, I have to talk some important things with your headmaster”, both of them walked away, Crowley’s shocked expression still placed on his face, and you chuckled at it.

It seems that happy endings do exist in the real life, and if you’re wondering where did the little fairy go… Well, she changed your dress again to the initial gown you wore at first, except that it was more of her liking, with huge bows and puffy sleeves.

But the rest as some say, it’s history.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

just a reminder that your favourite loves everything about you…

everything you’re insecure about is beautiful to them and they will remind you all the time.

whether it’s hip dips, facial hair, moles that don’t look “pretty”, short stubby fingers…

whether you think you’re too “skinny” or too “fat”, whether you think you’re too “tall” or too “short”

all your supposed “imperfections” have never clouded their views of you and they never will

all those tiny things you call “flaws” don’t change what they fell in love with.

---

Fool me Once (Part 7 - FINAL) Arataki Itto x fem!reader [Angst to Comfort]

Summary: In a change of heart, you offer Arataki Itto a job carrying boxes of ingredients for your father’s ramen shop. He really seems to need the mora anyway. Itto has no bad intentions, but he tends to forget that he has a job to do now, getting carried away by the kids and sometimes even his competitions with Yoimiya. Still, you persist and trust that he can do his job properly, until it all goes wrong when a band of ronin attack you while you’re alone with the shipments waiting for Itto to show up.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none :D 

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

“I-I got so angry I couldn’t control myself, granny!” 

The day after the whole incident, Itto went running to Granny Oni. In front of the only parental figure he had, he was diminished into a small puppy crying waterfall of tears. 

Granny Oni only chuckled as she continued to stir the pot of special porridge she was making.

After the incident, Itto brought you to Thoma to get checked. As much as Itto didn’t like the guy, he had to admit that Thoma was better at assessing injuries and such. So he forgot about his oni pride, wanting to make sure that you were, in fact, alright and not in any immediate danger. 

Keep reading

---

12:30 am

Feat. Kuroo

Kuroo didn’t know when he decided that dating you would be a bad idea, but he did. But looking at you know, he couldn’t remember why.

Seeing you after a long day was like taking a fresh breath of air, or maybe not. Seeing you, an indescribable feeling came over him.

You made water taste better, the sun shine brighter, and his heart beat faster.

You first met Kuroo your first year, on the first day of school. He sat beside you in class and offered his name so you returned with yours. After that interaction you spoke with him regularly in class and it only took a few months before you were speaking outside of class.

You two got close, and for some reason, he got scared. It wasn't often that he let people get too close, or that people wanted to get close.

He let his feelings fester for two years, nearly forgetting that there was another option besides dying in silence.

But here you were, leaning down in front of him whispering in his ear, telling him to come with you. Goosebumps rose on his skin as your hot breath hit his ear. He willingly followed you, not that he had much choice because you were holding onto his hand tightly.

His mind jumped from several different conclusions as to what you were gonna do to him, some shoujo status, others being horrifically humiliating.

You lead him out of the classroom to behind the school.

"What are we doing here?" He asked.

You shushed him and grabbed him by his tie to lower him in front of a cardboard box. He almost lost it then and there. You looked around in every direction before opening the box to reveal a single black kitten sleeping in it.

"I found her in a bush near the entrance. You know, I was running late so it was quiet when I was walking up so I heard her meowing." You explained, petting her head softly with one finger. "I found a box and went back and grabbed her. By the time I had done all of this, 1st period was over."

He looked over at you as you looked tenderly at the kitten. He wondered if he was looking at you with a similar expression.

"What are you going to do with her?"

You looked up at him with a bashful look and he knew that whatever you were going to say next he would agree to immediately.

"I was thinking you could take it? My dad would never let us take her in, but maybe your parents would be ok with it? I would have to come over constantly though."

"Of course, I'll take care of her." He spoke without really thinking about it, but his answer would have been the same.

"Really? That's so great! I was super worried for a bit."

"C'mon, I'd do anything I could to help you out." After watching your expression change, he wanted to take it back immediately, or at least rearrange his wording.

"Thanks, Tetsurou." Shit. He was down bad.

With the way you were looking at him now, he was asking again, why hadn't he made a move sooner.

He spoke your name softly and you held your breath as he spoke. "Before we go back to class, I have something I want to say." He paused to find the right words, but nothing seemed better than just saying them. "I like you."

You finally let out a breath as a shaky laugh and beamed at him. "I like you too."

You both were caught up in a moment of bliss that was broken by the weak cry of the kitten in front of you.

"She's awake!" You pulled her into your arms as you showed Kuroo to her. "This is Tetsurou, your new dad."

"If I'm her dad, does that make you her mom?" He hoped to pull a flustered reaction from you, but the best he could get was a blush and a smile.

"I thought that was obvious." You mumble, placing her back into the box.

"Well, we should probably head back, class will be starting soon." He said, taking the box into his arms.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Taking her to the gym, Nekomata won’t mind. She’ll be safer where no one else will find her. She can be like our mascot or something.” You smile at him and it sends the same electric shocks through his heart, just without the pain this time.

---

you both are lying in bed, fingers tracing each other’s skin, hands exploring each other’s body (not in a sexual way). His hands trace your shoulder, your stomach, your waist, your hips, your thighs, your any and every stretch mark. ‘see this baby ? this is mine. you’re mine. and you’re beautiful. everything about you is beautiful. don’t forget. and your personality ? you’re like an angel. you deserve the entire world’, he whispers with softened eyes. he’s now planting soft and slow kisses trailing from your shoulders to your thighs. appreciating you and everything about you. each kiss having a deeper meaning then the last. each kiss having a different and higher level of affection.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, KITA SHINSUKE, MIYA OSAMU, KUROO TETSUROU, Suna Rintarou, Tooru Oikawa, Matsukawa Issei, Akaashi Keiji

---

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 kept snickering like an idiot while drawing this

---