THE CHARACTERIZATION OF KURAPIKA, THE WRITING, THE ANGST. This Fic Is Everything That My Kurapika Loving

THE CHARACTERIZATION OF KURAPIKA, THE WRITING, THE ANGST. This fic is everything that my Kurapika loving heart could ever ask for <3

omg please write kurapika getting his dicksucked!!!! 😭😭😭its what he deserves!!!!!😭

It wasn’t, no matter how you looked at it, a relationship. You weren’t an idiot who blinded themselves to the truth. But, no matter how hard it was, you understood and accepted Kurapika as he was. As the person you loved. He simply wasn’t the type to declare his love or kiss your lips, he would never see your adoration as it was or reciprocate it the way your heart yearned for. In most cases he seemed barely aware of your presence.

But, even when you were ignored and dismissed, even when Kurapika disregarded and cast you aside without a second thought, even then, even still, no matter what, you loved him truly.

Your foolish heart ached for your love, broke against the unknowing cruelty of his obliviousness, but you endured it gladly. There was never a second thought in your mind, no matter how painful it became, because even though Kurapika would never return your love, he still needed you in some small way. He still had shared with you a piece of himself that only belonged to you.

In the darkest hours of the night when Kurapika was consumed by his endlessly tumultuous twisting of thoughts, when he was awake with nothing but ghosts to keep him company, when insomnia was an invited illness for fear the nightmares he’d endure in sleep, he opened his door for you.

There was no kissing, no romance or satisfaction of his touch on your skin. The love that burned within you was devotion to a broken angel, and the ritual that took place in these dark hours was your revering rite. Kurapika’s exhausted and overworked body, so beautifully fragile despite the dangerous strength you knew he possessed, was the place you paid worship.

In the dreamy blue-dark of Kurapika’s room -he always left the lights off-, his body sprawled and mostly undressed beneath yours in the twisted white sheets, you were nothing but the desperate devout. Kurapika was your spiraling, falling, wingless angel. Your adored. Yes, in these moments, however fleeting and painful, he was yours.

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fuck easter, today’s Kurapika’s birthday 🥳😇

Damn I just had to reblog this! This is so well-written and emotional, and the Kirishima's personality is written so well too! Just made my heart go 🥺🥺Definetly give it a read!! ❤️🧡

Hidden in the sun

A Monst produced Short Story ^.^

Stripper! Kirisima Eijirou x Reader

Word count- 18,391 (Less than I thought but meh)

Warnings: Sexy tiime themes and actions, Dark chocolate,

Playlist: Hidden in the sun

Summary: Your life was set in stone. You had already accepted your fate; you were ready to live a bleak colorless life. Well that was your intention, but it seemed as though your friends wanted to liven up your life after such depressing news. A club, A strip club to be more precise. “So, come on (Name) liven up a little, have a drink and unwind after all there’s still time.” Your friends teased. How interesting it is to think that if you had refused to go out with your friends that night you would have never met him. You would have never met the stripper known as Red Riot.

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Some words to use when writing things:

winking

clenching

pulsing

fluttering

contracting

twitching

sucking

quivering

pulsating

throbbing

beating

thumping

thudding

pounding

humming

palpitate

vibrate

grinding

crushing

hammering

lashing

knocking

driving

thrusting

pushing

force

injecting

filling

dilate

stretching

lingering

expanding

bouncing

reaming

elongate

enlarge

unfolding

yielding

sternly

firmly

tightly 

harshly

thoroughly

consistently

precision

accuracy

carefully

demanding

strictly

restriction

meticulously

scrupulously

rigorously

rim

edge

lip

circle

band

encircling

enclosing

surrounding

piercing

curl

lock

twist

coil

spiral

whorl

dip

wet

soak

madly

wildly

noisily

rowdily

rambunctiously

decadent

degenerate

immoral

indulgent

accept

take

invite

nook

indentation

niche

depression

indent

depress

delay

tossing

writhing

flailing

squirming

rolling

wriggling

wiggling

thrashing

struggling

grappling

striving

straining

Eijirou Kirishima x f!reader

Category: angst

Warnings: suicide (nothing graphic) slight cursing, mentions of sex under the cut

Word count: 2,881

Summary: Kirishima's journey of learning how to live without you and the fault he feels for your decision.

A.n: This is told from Kirishima's POV, the character Daichi is completly random and has nothing to do with bnha lol. Things have been... Kinda bad lately, so I guess it's my way of ranting. Hope ya'll like it!

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

There’s a few Astilbes in a tall vase on my bedside table. There’s this sweet smell coming from them, but it’s masked by the scent of a strong vanilla cologne.

It’s cold in the room because I can’t make myself get up to close the window, which lets ice cold air from the darkness to leak in.

I’m talking with her on the phone while wrapping the phone charger around my finger, untangling then twirling it again. My fingers remembered it as a routine during the hour we spent talking.

Even if her words are joyful, even if she’s talking about how’s school been and how she spent today studying at this super cute coffee shop with her friends, her voice feels heavy. Heavy with something she doesn’t want to show me. Something that she tries to hide under her stuttering laugh and stories.

But I’m not stupid. I can hear hints of pain stabbing her in the “It was fun” like sharp knives, and her “My new classmates are awesome!” covered by a mask of longing.

I want to help her, but my throat is dry and my tongue feels like it’s tied. I am held back by my own insecurities and doubts - I don’t want her to think that I’m an idiot or that I’m not minding my own bussiness.

“Eijirou? You still there?” she asks, oddly calm.

I wake up from my little trance. It seems like I got lost in the halls of my mind again. I feel a bit guilty. Did she tell me something important?

“Sorry, I got carried away for a second,”

There’s silence on her end of the line. A sigh soon rolls off the silence. I screwed up again.

“No, it’s okay. Nothing important.”

I hold my breath. What did she say? The smartest thing to do right now is just ask her-

“I will go now. Thanks for the convo, though,”

My teeth catch my bottom lip and I bite it. Idiot. I’m a fucking idiot.

There’s silence staying on the phone with me for a while until a quiet beep announces the call ending.

I couldn’t really sleep that night.

Somewhere near midnight, the line between sleep and search for comfort within the spots of the celling, in the stripes of the wallpaper or the folds of the blanket, blurs.

I don’t know when did I fall asleep but I think I saw angels, or maybe, just soft rays of sun, flooding into the room through curtainless windows.

I’m thinking about her. I’m thinking about how’s her day going and if she got any new opportunities to join a big agency.

Calendar on the wall shows that today is 11th of April, 2022.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

Time as a pro-hero flies fast. Now I have a lot of problems, or maybe, just more than I had when I was at school. I don’t bother to remember the names or faces of people. Don’t want to.

Bakugou says that I’ve changed and that others are really worried, but I just bury myself in more work.

I can’t tell when a patrol starts and ends or the voices of villains and other heroes. It all blurs into one mess that lays on my shoulders like a dark cloud.

I come back home with an empty head and a full work shedule.

While I try to watch TV, not minding the buzzing on the other side of window and in my head, the bouquet of pink Camellias in the vase seem to stare at me.

I try not to mind themuntil a delicate petal falls on my arm. I don’t know how to keep flowers. Maybe I should stop buying them - they seem to not like my place.

I try to change the water, hoping that this would fix everything, and then I go back to mindessly watching tv.

I wait. Laying in my bed, a soft blanket wrapped around me as I desperately search for any warmth. I wait. Tick Tock.

Then there’s only one minute left of waiting and that minute soons ends as my phone rings, throwing me out of my endless thoughts.

“Hey!”

“Hello! How are you? How was hero work today?”

Her voice sounds different today. A lot brighter, like she has a smile on her face as she’s talking and I feel myself smiling too.

“It’s good, it’s good... Hero work is hard, as always. I’ve got a nasty case, dealing with some shitty drug dealers. It’d be better if you told me about your day.”

She stays quiet for a moment. It feels as if she’s holding her breath and, for a moment, I hold mine too. As if we’re underwater in our own safe bubble, where no one else can reach us.

“Everything’s very good. Great, even,” she finally answers and our bubble bursts.

“How did that audition go?”

“Uhm, I didn’t go.”

I frown, not even knowing what to say. She wouldn’t shut up about that audition, how the hero that ran it shared her opinions and ideals, how that place was just a dream, how-

“Why?” I trap all of my thoughts in that simple word.

“Just thought it wasn’t worth it,”

I wrap my finger around the phone charger and unwrap it again.

“Why?” I repeat my question again, dumbfounded.

“Dunno, maybe that place wasn’t that fit for me after all.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

After that silence follows. Then we talk some more about work, but it seems that conversation just doesn’t flow freely tonight. I drag it out like bubblegum that’s not meant to stretch this far.

“I’m coming back for a few days soon.”

I almost jump up. Don’t know if it’s from excitment or from shock. I haven’t seen her for a year.

“Wait, really?” I ask, finding it hard to believe.

“Yeah, and I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“Could I crash at your place while I’m here?”

My heart jumps with excitment. She’s more than welcome to stay. My heart aches just at the thought about an opportunity to see her.

I suddenly remember that she’s still waiting for my answer.

“Yeah sure! Just give me a message when you have the date set.”

She sighs with relief,

“You’re the best, Eijirou.”

The way she says my name makes a blush creep up my checks,

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Just like that, the call ends and I’m left with pleasant silence. Tonight I don’t feel lonely.

The calendar shows 11th of April, 2023.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

It’s a few weeks of waiting until she grants her promise. She stands at my door, more beautiful than ever and for a second, I doubt if that’s just a vision, but after she flashes one of her sunshine smiles I instantly know that she’s real. She’s there and she’s real.

I pull her into a tight embrace, burying my face in her hair. Words cannot describe how much I missed her.

I give her a bunch of red Chrysanthemums and I instantly knew it was worth getting to the flower shop so early in the morning - her smile lights up the room brighter than the sun ever could.

“I missed you, Eijirou,” the name rolls off her plump lips so softly. It gives me the feeling that if I do as much as breathe, I’ll shatter the moment.

We talk all day, watch some TV and then talk some more. The stars shine so bright tonight that we don’t even need lamps. It seems as if they’re enjoying our moment too.

She tells me countless stories and I want to hear each one of them over and over again, her voice makes me feel drunk off my mind.

She talks about struggling with living in a foreign country, about missing me and other friends, about everything that bothers her and I’m here to listen. Soon, I tell her all my secrets and we’re sitting in front of each other pulling away all of our lies.

I don’t know what events lead up to our next step. Truly, it’s all a blur and the only significant thing I can point out is the flowers, gently sitting in the tall glass vase.

We get rid of our clothes, the same way we got rid of our secrets just minutes ago. There’s nothing separating us now and we can and get drunk off each other’s bodies.

Making love with her is tender and sweet, with lots of praises and sweet nothings, she manages to whisper out.

I pause for a second, taking a moment to truly look at her and memorise every inch of her body. From the way her hair is draped on my pillow and her face is so calm, to the way her legs, wrapped around my waist try to pull me as close as possible.

We spend the night naked, flush against each other, finally free of everything. If only for a moment.

The calendar shows 14th of May, 2023.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

When my phone rings again, I’m putting a bunch of yellow Zinnias into the vase. The flowers that I had before them have already wilted so I threw them away.

I sigh, expecting another call from her brother, who suddenly became worried about her like two weeks ago, or maybe someone from the former Bakusquad.

When I see her name on my phone I pick it up faster than I never knew I could.

“Eijirou...”

I haven’t heard her voice in so long, it almost feels surreal. I want her to repeat my name, slowly, so that could remember every syllable she says and repeat it on my mind forever.

“Is everything okay? I was so worried!”

Her voice cracks. I hear a quiet sniffle that she tries to hide.

“No, actually... No... I don’t like it there, I want to go home.”

All the other emotion in my body are conquered by pain. It’s so good to hear her, but it hurts so much to hear her voice is filled with sorrow I wished she would never experience. I want her to come back. I don’t care how selfish it is.

“I can’t... You know I can’t,”

I blink. I want to tell her, but my tongue feels heavy and all my words begin to slur.

I wake up with a jump. My shirt is flushed against my back and my whole body is covered in goosebumps. I snake my arms around myself, desperately seeking any kind of warmth.

My phone is turned off and the calendar shows 11th of April, 2024.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

I put red and white striped Carnations in a vase. Flowers from before are dead, as always.

Work goes by the same as always and while I’m sitting down trying to finish tomorrow’s plans, I wait for a call.

Time goes by, but it doesn’t ring. Tick tock. She always calls at the same time.

She used to call at the same time, my mind corrects. I push that thought into the deepest part of my brain, never to be found again.

Tick tock. That’s how another hour goes by, filled with walking from one end of the room to the other and checking my phone again and again.

I don’t get a call.

The other three weeks are tense. The bags under my eyes are filled with darkness from staring at the windows during long, sleepless nights, searching for answers from the dark and dim stars. Answers that none of them want to give to me.

When I get a call, my clock shows that it’s almost 4am.

“Y/N?” I ask, my voice colored by hopeful hues. Droplets of sleep still hang on my lips.

“No, dude it’s Daichi.”

I grit my teeth. I’m not mad at him. I’m not mad at him for calling me, I’m not mad at him...

I’m mad because he’s not Y/N.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask something about Y/N,”

“Eh?”

And what about her? For me to tell him what Y/N thought of him? To tell him that he was a bad brother? To tell him that his sister left because his family sucks?

“You’re her best friend.”

“Was.”

“What?”

“Was her best friend.”

“Yeah...”

“And?”

“And you.. Well you... Well she probably told you...”

“She didn’t,”

My answer is cold and what would put an end to this conversation.

“She... didn’t?”

He obviously doesn’t know when it’s time to end a conversation.

“Daichi, are you drunk?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why are you calling me at 4am?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Maybe it’s the only aspect he and his sister share - that small little doubt, showing that they’re never sure of what to say.

“Because I don’t u-understand,” he hiccups.

“What?”

Then his voice breaks, like a ship that’s slowly claimed by the waves to be sunken forever.

“Eijirou... Eijirou... I don’t understand why she left... Eijirou, was it really bad for her? Was it that bad that she couldn’t tell anyone?”

I bite my bottom lip until I feel a hot droplet of blood running down my chin. What do I say to him? That she was trying to tell them? That they didn’t listen? That none of us did?

“It’s not your fault, Daichi. Go to sleep,”

“But...”

“We’ll talk again tomorrow if you want to. Now go to sleep.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

I end the call and fall back to my bed. My bed is incredibly cold and unwelcoming. I slump my way towards the kitchen and sit there until the first droplets of liquid gold begin to pour inside.

Calendar shows 11th of April, 2025.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

I put Cyclamens in the vase. It’s the day we meet again. I don’t know what to hope for and while I’m going, my insecurities and fears follow close, only to disappear as soon as i see her.

She looks like a goddess. Her hair like rays of sunshine that found their place in the waves of locks on her head, her skin seems to shine, like it’s been kissed by stars and her smile only compliments her beauty.

Nothing’s changed but when I come closer, I notice that her eyes are different. All the happiness and joy is drained and now they’re empty. No, not empty... Just filled with something I can’t quite identify.

“It’s you...” I manage to whisper and before I start feeling like an idiot, she laughs with that wonderful laugh wrapping me with the feeling of safety, telling me that everything’s okay.

“It’s me.” she confirms and puts her forehead against mine. We drown in the silence, away from everything.

“I often wonder why you did that.”

She pulls away and her hands find their place on the back of my neck, as if we’re dancing, “I did it for myself.”

I sigh, “I don’t understand it. I don't understand it, Y/N,”

My hands dance on her waist, not finding their place.

“I wasn’t happy, Eijirou. I wasn’t happy there.”

I sigh again and pull her against my body. She smells like vanilla and clean laundry,

“Could I’ve made you happy?” I quietly ask and she raises her glance. Her empty eyes that pulled me in so strongly.

“No, it’s not your fault, Eijirou,” she answers and wipes away my tears that I didn’t even know were falling, “I did it for myself, I did it so I could be happy. Eijirou, I feel good now.”

I look up to the bright blue sky. There’s only one cloud there.

I take in a stuttering breath.

“Wasn’t there anything I could do?” Tears now flow freely as I try to not look at her. Somewhere deep inside I know this isn’t real and I’m afraid that she’ll disappear if I look at her for too long.

She takes my face into her hands, softly stroking it with one hand. Her glance is soft and for a moment, I see the Y/N I used to know before.

“All you can do right now is forgive me,” she whispers and I pet her silky hair, “And forgive yourself, Eijirou. You can’t carry the guilt of other people’s choices. You can’t live with a fault that isn’t your’s.”

That’s the last time I hear her voice.

When I wake up, I see her face right before my eyes but it’s not a ghost who drags a trail of unanswered questions after itself. No, it’s now a person I once loved so much. A person that I couldn’t hate for leaving me in pieces of my former self.

There’s a bunch of yellow Daffodils and Forget-Me-Not’s in my hands. Forget-Me-Not’s for a promise, that she’ll always be dear to me and Daffodils - the second promise, that I will finally start everything over again.

I leave the flowers on her grave, which I finally visited after two years.

It’s time to forgive her. It’s time to forgive myself.

I come back home and check the calendar for the last time. My new beginning is on 11th of April, 2026. Two years after her death.

“The sun will rise, and we will try again,” she used to say. With those words, I breathe in and peel the calendar page off.

✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*

As always, thanks @velvet-kissesss​ for editing! 

Maybe we should ALL steal like 8 penguins from the zoo, to live a longer, happier and healthier life.

No, I will not explain.