There were a lot of reasons why this shouldn’t have happened, and Bakugo blamed every single one of them on Kaminari.
Firstly, Bakugo wasn’t even supposed to be there. He didn’t want to participate in this beach party or whatever, away from teachers. Whatever. Sounded stupid, he didn’t even want to go.
Second of all, truth or dare was the stupidest game ever. Fact.
Third of all, fuck Kaminari.
Before this party is over I dare you to kiss someone. Your choice.
Like hell he’s going to do something that stupid. He felt the other assholes’ eyes on him for the rest of the evening, while they all made fools of themselves during their own dares, and Bakugo definitely wasn’t about to.
Fourth of all, who the fuck even brought alcohol seriously what the shit.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this was a recipe for disaster, but who the hell cared.
“You dragged yourself out here? I didn’t think you knew how to have fun.”
His memories were hazy, and he had no idea how the hell did he end up lying next to Todoroki of all people on the sandy beach, and Todoroki just looked at him from the corner of his eye.
“I wouldn’t call what you are having fun either. You keep scowling.”
“You’re the one to fucking talk. Why did you even come?”
Todoroki shrugged a little.
“Midoriya called me. And this is indeed fun, although I think it is getting a little late.”
Of course it was Deku. Well, Bakugo supposed he could add Deku to the list of people to blame for this fucking night.
“...either way how come you are here?”
“Fuckin’ Kaminari.”
“I see.”
It was completely quiet between the two of them and it was awkward. Awkward silence was the worst, or maybe it was the alcohol in his system that made Bakugo want to break the ice (pun not intended, although he sort of chuckled about it, not like he’d admit it to himself), and just sit up, and press a kiss to Todoroki’s lips.
It was clumsy, awkward, and Todoroki’s lips tasted like alcohol too, so apparently he wasn’t completely sober either when he kissed back.
Bakugo’s memories were hazy again after that, but he distinctly remembered running like hell back home from the beach, his heart racing, and trying to get what happened out of his head.
If anyone will bring it up in school next time they go, he’s going to fucking murder Kaminari.
I love these instrumentals, the vocals are pretty and sound kinda disconnected to begin with. EDGE LYRICS. ‘If blood runs red tell me why mine’s blue’. Nah man I really like, it has these moments of intensity that are incredible. AND THEN IT KICKS OFF OH MY GOD IT BUILT SO WELL. Guitar is VERY neat.
Also gotta say I love the band name
kinda inconsistent and the vocals aren’t always my thing. but it’s got such good instrumentals oh my god I love that. And I like the ‘Just like you wanted me there’ and how his voice goes on that defs good.
and the stripped away quieter bit at the end oh my goddd wonderful
It’s a rly interesting song idk if I can think of anything quite like it. Good rec.
favourite canon pairing - Ok let’s say Selim and Val are not canon yet, then Michael/Ferret
worst pairing ever - I’m pretty sure Theo/Rudi would count
guilty pleasure pairing - Shizune/Theresia
a pairing you want to see more - literally everything, I’m starving for content I know I suck at creating Vamp-only content but I’d be so happy for anything in my life oh my god
that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no” - Watt/Pirie I’m sorry
favorite non-romantic pair - Relic and Ferret! Also Mirald and Dorrikey because yes I ship them but as a horrible detective pair they are amazing too. And Yellow and Aiji. And Doubs and Hackey. And.......
Characters: Maiza Avaro, Firo Prochainezo, Ronny Schiatto, Luck Gandor, Keith Gandor, Berga Gandor, Isaac Dian, Miria Harvent
Rating: General
The elegant speakeasy within the honey shop known as the Alveare is busier than usual, especially considering it is the night of Christmas Eve. Most choose to spend Christmas with their family, or perhaps to attend a party. The event currently taking place within this speakeasy is one such party, and is in fact a Family gathering of sorts as well. Of course the Family in question is the Martillo Family of Manhattan, a small offshoot of the Camorra that was started in America, lacking any direct ties to the original Family that began in Naples.
Nonetheless, they have traditions of their own, one of which is a gathering of the group’s executives for Christmas. The planning of this party came down to Maiza, the Martillo’s contaiuolo who stood off to the side, observing the event he had planned. Perhaps it is strange for the man who organized the party to stick to the sideline, to keep to himself rather than engaging his guests, but the executive simply preferred things that way. He wasn’t a loner, per se, but was certainly not the sort to seek to be the center of attention.
Of course, he was not without those who would seek him out. It wasn’t long before the Martillo’s newest and youngest executive broke off from the group, heading for Maiza. Firo had been close with Maiza for some time, after the <i>contaiuolo</i> had picked out a hat for him on the day of his promotion. Though this was simply one of the Maritllo’s traditions, the chaos of the night that followed was far from traditional. Yet that chaos had changed the organization, both giving them immortal bodies, and bringing them closer together. Whenever Maiza thought of his friends and colleagues who had become immortal just as he had centuries past, he could not shake off a slight feeling of guilt. However, Firo and the other executives seemed to be pleased with their new status, and as his fellow executive approached, Maiza’s usual smile grew.
“Good evening, Firo. I take it you are enjoying yourself?” Maiza asks.
“Of course, Maiza! You really planned this well, the food’s great, and the drink’s even better!” Firo answers.
“Ah, well, the Alveare is to thank for both of those. I see all of our executives are here, but some of our extra guests haven’t arrived yet.” Maiza says, scanning the room.
“Oh, yeah? Who else did you invite, anyway? Aren’t these things usually Martillo exclusive?” Firo asks, raising his eyebrows curiously.
“Well, yes, but considering the season, I thought of a few others we might as well have along. After all, they were here that night, as well,” Maiza explains.
“Does that mean the Gandors are coming? And Isaac and Miria, too? Well, things are gonna get more lively, that’s for sure!” Firo says, grinning at the mention of the eccentric couple.
“Luck said the three of them would be sure to stop by. Of course, Isaac and Miria are much less predictable, I could only send them an inviation and hope,” Maiza says, shrugging slightly. “I do hope they make it, though.”
“Ah, well, you know them! I’m sure they’ll try, but who knows what might distract them? Either way, I think it’ll be a great party!” Firo says, clapping Maiza on the shoulder.
“Of course it will be! Maiza is surprisingly adept at these sort of things,” a new voice says, entering the conversation. “At least, he has been in the past. Well, no matter.”
“Is that right, Ronnie? I never would have figured Maiza for a party planner or nothing,” Firo says, turning to his fellow executive. He had some background with the man, as Ronnie had taught him much of his skill with knife-fighting.
“Now, now, Ronnie, don’t play me up too much! I’m just good with numbers, and making sure there’s something there for everyone,” Maiza adds.
“And yet you always seem to end up off to the side. Why don’t you make sure there’s something for you to enjoy, as well?” Ronnie asks.
“Ha, I bet Maiza just likes seeing everyone’s smiling faces!” Firo answers for him. This brings a certain man to mind for both Ronnie and Maiza, though of course Firo would not have met him.
“I suppose it’s something like that,” Maiza says. “It is great to see everyone enjoying themselves, but I would think that even if I hadn’t planned it.”
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter too much. It was just an idle observation on my part, it makes no matter to me,” Ronnie says, dismissively, taking his leave of his fellow executives. .
As Ronnie walks out, something of a commotion breaks out at the entrance to the large speakeasy. Before either of them can make out what’s going on, a certain couple is already on their minds. Shouts of greeting ring out, as a man and woman dressed as Santa Claus and an elf enter.
These costumes might have been common at any Christmas party, especially one involving children, but they seemed a bit much for a party hosted by part of the city’s criminal underground. What made them even stranger was the couple’s decision of who would wear what.
Santa Claus, despite the bushy white beard, was very clearly Miria, while Isaac had dressed as the elf. Their height difference made this choice even more curious, as Isaac seemed to tower over Miria, dwarfing her despite his role as a diminutive elf. The unmistakable couple work their way through the executives that flock to them, with Isaac reaching into the bag on Miria’s back, passing out curios and knick-knacks as they go.
Firo and Maiza both watch with bemused expressions as the duo works their way over. Once they were within earshot, Firo cries out, “Isaac! Miria! It’s a pleasure to see you two!”
As they grow closer, Maiza notices their expressions shift, and briefly wonders how Firo might have offended him. But they answer long before he can theorize.
“Now, Firo, I don’t know who these ‘Isaac’ and ‘Miria’s fellows are, but they have nothing to do with us!” Isaac says.
“That’s right, as lovely as they might be, we’re nothing more than Santa and his elf, here to spread Christmas cheer! Merry Christmas, Firo! Merry Christmas, Maiza! Ho ho ho!” Miria adds, doing nothing to disguise her voice until she attempts Santa’s signature laugh. At the sound of her deepened voice, laughing in such a ridiculous way, Firo can’t help but burst out laughing.
Maiza, too, chuckles at their antics, his customary smile deepening in the presence of their infectious happiness. Still, Firo can’t help but tease them a bit more. “If you’re not Isaac and Miria, how’d you know me and Maiza’s names anyway?”
“Well, that’s elementary, dear Firo!” Isaac says, before crinkling his brow and turning to Miria.
“Of course! Santa knows everyone!” Miria says, nodding as if she’s spoken an absolute truth if the universe.
Maiza watches as they reach into their bag, passing out a small, wooden toy to Firo, then holding one out to him. Of course, he takes it, marvelling at the craftsmanship and wondering if they made it, bought it, or stole it. Any answer is as likely as the other, he thinks.
“Well, whoever you two are, I bet Ennis would get a kick out of seeing you! Come on, she was right over here,” Firo says, leading Isaac and Miria away from Maiza. Watching his friends make their way across the room, he hears the door to the speakeasy open once more. Unsurprisingly, it is the other guests who have yet to arrive, Luck, Berga, and Keith Gandor.
This time, it is Maiza who moves to greet them, deeming the bosses of another Family, even one that is close with the Martillos, deserving of a traditional greeting.
“Good evening, Luck, Keith, and Berga. I’m glad you could make it!” Maiza says.
“Of course, Maiza. We’re happy to be here,” Luck answers.
He is followed quickly by Berga, who says “Yeah, it’s great to be here. Now where’s the food at in here?”
“It’s over there, near Firo, Ennis, Isaac and Miria,” Maiza replies.
“Oh man, those two showed up? Well, this’ll be interesting to say the least,” Berga says.
“Actually, they claim to be Santa and an elf, and not Isaac and Miria at all,” Maiza says, chuckling as he explains their latest foolishness.
“There’s really just no guessing with those two, is there?” Luck asks, shaking his head. “Oh, and we brought some of our own liquor. It seemed like the least we could do after your invitation.”
At that, Keith uncovered a box he was carrying, remaining as silent as ever.
“That wasn’t necessary, but thank you, Luck,” Maiza says.
“Don’t mention it, just consider it a token of our esteemed appreciation,” he answers. “Tonight certainly looks like it will be enjoyable. And I suppose we have plenty of times like this to look forward to.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Maiza responds, his smile deepening just a little. Despite all that’s happened in the past, Maiza can’t help but feel content. After all, he couldn’t ask for better friends to gain the gift of immortality than the people he considered a second family.
