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passerkirbius · 1 year

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Rusty Quill Saga - 24 Hour Follow Up

Hi everyone! I appreciate all the new follows! Might actually get me posting more about stuff!

So, it's been about a day since I posted my response to the Rusty Quill article, and reading some of the tag comments I wanted to respond to a couple, again in the interests of helping those who aren't within the audio fiction community get a little context that you might not otherwise have had.

But I also wanted to put my cards on the table - why should you listen to me? Hi! My name is Lee Davis-Thalbourne, I'm Australian, and I'm one half of the Fiction Podcast Production team Passer Vulpes Productions. We're the creators of a number of fiction podcasts, including Love and Luck and Supernatural Sexuality with Dr. Seabrooke. I also have a reasonable resume of small VA roles with a lot of different podcast production teams, I have a history of theorycrafting around podcast production, and I'm currently engaged in some part-time independent research around fiction podcast production that, if people are interested, I might actually get around to finishing one day. Myself and my partner Erin were the founders of AusFicPodMakers, which was/is an informal group supporting audio fiction producers in Australia, and as part of that support, I currently curate a list of Australian Fiction Podcasts (which I encourage you to take a look at!). In terms of affiliations, PVP is not associated with any podcasting network (though a few have knocked on our door), and I'm not currently producing audio fiction right now - I have no projects on the boil, so to speak.

So, I think I can say, with some evidence, that I'm a part of the audio fiction production scene, that I care about audio fiction in general, that I might have some thoughts worth listening to about it, and that I'm a mostly disinterested party regarding this - I have no particular stake in Rusty Quill's fortunes one way or the other.

Tag Responses

Okay, so I wanted to quickly respond to a few of the tag comments that have popped up in response to yesterday's post, mainly because I feel like it's worth expanding on some of them:

#i also feel bad because i was always kinda wary on tma2#now it feels even more like a cash grab

Look - as a podcast producer, I can respect a cash grab. If you can grab that cash, I'm a strong believer in doing so, because making audio fiction without cash is kinda sucky. It's like any other big endeavour - when you get nothing out of it, it eats away at you. That's part of the reason why PVP isn't producing at the moment - We tried to scale up to multiple productions and it damn near killed us. We weren't really getting the income we needed to do more than just barely break even - we, as producers, weren't making a dime off of our podcasts, even with Patreon and crowdfunding. Rusty Quill is actually an extreme outlier regarding their ability to get cash from their audiences. How extreme? Well, before the TMA2 kickstarter, the most successful Audio Fiction crowdfunding campaign was Unseen, from the producers of Wolf 359, one of the seminal audio fiction shows of the modern audio fiction renaissance, and it hit a little over US$40,000. Which, just to note, was significantly higher than any other audio fiction crowdfund project before it - very few audio fiction crowdfund campaigns get more than around US$5,000-10,000.

So, sure, it's a cash grab. It might still be good anyway though! Don't disregard it just because they're making financially-dominated decisions.

#Adding onto this while the evidence isn't conclusive (because as many people have said it is conjecture and opinions and stuff)#and also the author's credibility is...in question

So, first things first, Newt Schottelkotte is an extremely credible journalist in the Audio Fiction space - they've broken a number of big stories, and written a lot in support of the audio fiction production scene. Wil Williams, who helped edit the piece, is also a highly respected critic and journalist within the space, while Tal Minear is a very prolific audio fiction producer of good repute. Personally, I have absolutely no concerns about their integrity or credibility - they've all done incredible work.

But it is worth noting that Audio fiction is kinda odd, in that journalists, critics and producers all pretty much come from the same group of people. The honest fact is that Audio Fiction, as a beat, has pretty much no prestige, there are (currently) no publications that are dedicated to audio fiction coverage, and the whole sector is mostly considered an afterthought to the real podcast industry. So, the few people who do create audio fiction meta-content, even if they begin as separated from the industry, don't stay separated for long - they will start making contacts with producers, they may start finding people offering cameo roles in shows, and eventually, they'll consider moving into podcast production. If your requirement for a "credible" voice within audio fiction journalism is one that has absolutely no connections with any actual production, I'm sorry but that ain't happening - the scene is too small, and people move between production and commentary so often, that "true independence" isn't a thing.

With that said, these journalists do a lot to make their affiliations visible up front, which is the other way to manage conflicts of interest within the scene - by declaring them. I'd be a lot more suspicious of a journalist that doesn't put their affiliations up front, honestly.

The Rusty Quill Response

So, I wrote yesterday that I wasn't expecting a response from Rusty Quill for a good three days - they are a group, it takes time to coordinate a response, I figured I could relax for a bit. However, Rusty Quill has already produced a response, and that alone says something - it says that a single person has dictated this response. Considering the record speed, I also doubt that it has been looked over by anyone else. Knowing these things, I find it very likely that this is Alex Newall's response specifically, speaking for Rusty Quill, rather than one that that the leadership at Rusty Quill has worked on together.

I'm not going to go through the whole thing point by point - I don't have the time, and this post is already too long for most Tumblrites to consider going through it. But on a more general level, I find it interesting that the response contains not a single link, not a single pointer towards contrary evidence. Almost certainly this is due to the timeframe - were I in RQ's position, I would be going through our paperwork to find some boilerplate contracts to provide some counter-evidence to the article, or providing some financial details to show where the money is going, but finding, redacting, and publishing these things takes time. RQ has done none of this, and this isn't necessarily a point against them, but it does mean that Rusty Quill hasn't done much more than shout "Am not!" into the audience.

To talk about one specific point, I also find it interesting that, having been attacked on the subject of crew pay rates, they talk about how their cast have very good pay rates. This might be true, I don't have the resources to fact check that, and I hope it is - actors do deserve pay. But it is worth noting that actors are on a production for very little of the time - it's the editors, sound designers, musicians, transcribers, etc who put the most time on to a production. In general, you'd expect that the crew would be getting more money than the cast, because the crew is going to be putting in more time (although, fair's fair, the vast majority of audio fiction out there doesn't do this, because the only "crew" is the producer, who is usually financing the production out of their own pocket).

Questions?

So, I figure that if I'm putting myself out there, I might as well offer the opportunity for people to pick my brain. Have a question about Audio fiction production? Want to hear my explicit comments about something someone has said? My asks are open, I'll do my best to come back and answer any asks that come my way.

#tma #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #rusty quill #rq #industry explainer #audio fiction

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

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Paradise: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: Spencer finally meets your parents, but it doesn’t go as well as you thought it was going to go. Are you a bad girlfriend for letting your dad treat him that way, or is it completely out of your control?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

A small-town diner will have a lot of gossip that filters through, so it's the best place for information. You walk in with your two coworkers, and you're overwhelmed by the amount of people that are inside. This place is very busy for a place that's in the middle of nowhere.

"Be right with you," one of the waitresses says as she passes by you.

"It's not even lunchtime yet," Derek mutters to you as you three take a seat at the bar counter.

"The sign said people will travel for miles for Flo's Donuts," you shrug.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." The same waitress who passed you by is now behind the bar. Her name tag says her name is Betty. "Would you like a dozen to share?" You take out your badge and show it to her, and she realizes how serious this is. "Ooh. FBI."

"Ma'am, we're trying to trace the steps of a couple that may have been here a few days ago," Derek says.

"Darlin', I've waited on eighty-seven folks since we opened this morning. Somebody would have to come through here doing cartwheels on fire for me to remember."

"Would you take a look anyway, please?"

You take out the photos of the latest victims and show them to her.

"Huh! Well, I'll be. I do remember them."

"Were they doing cartwheels?"

"No, but I was. The lady left me a $10 tip for breakfast two days in a row. Nice couple. Are they in some kind of trouble?"

You don't want to give too much away, so you keep it sweet and short. Since the Gallens were here, then that means they were staying somewhere close by. Sherwood is a town that's on the east side of Lake Tahoe near the California state line. This area has over three hundred hotels, motels, and resorts. Penelope sent over every single phone number and address to everywhere the couple could have stayed.

Instead of going to three hundred businesses, you have to narrow down the list. Then, you'll be able to go door to door and show pictures of the Gallens in hope someone knows who they are. This process could take days or even weeks, but you don't have the manpower to make it go by faster.

At this point, what choice do you have?

It took all night to narrow down the list, so you had to pick this up the next morning. Everyone had been up late working on the list, so when you walk into the station the next morning, you see takeout containers everywhere.

"Morning JJ," you greet with a yawn.

"Sorry for the wake-up call."

"It's fine. I'm always tired," you wave her off.

"It looks like we've got a possible missing person," JJ says. "Ian and Abby Corbin were in Reno for the weekend. They were supposed to be home yesterday in San Luis Obispo. They could've driven right through Sherwood. They've already been missing a night. His mom's looking after their two kids."

"Call me when everybody gets here," Hotch says.

JJ turns to the table where all the take-out containers are, and she grimaces in disgust.

"What is this? Left-over Kung Pao chicken? That's disgusting." She picks up the containers and tosses them in the trash, and she notices the sheriff staring at her. "What?"

"The smell of Chinese food makes you sick, but you don't even flinch when you look at those pictures?"

JJ looks uncomfortable by his comment, and you're quick to jump in.

"JJ is the toughest woman I know."

"Thanks," she whispers to you.

"Here, eat this. This should help with your sickness."

You hand over a good snack that her baby boy will enjoy. She smiles and takes the snack gratefully. Soon, the rest of your team gets to the station, and the Sheriff gathers his men for the profile.

"Ian and Abby Corbin have already been missing for over twenty-four hours, which means we may only have until tonight to find them. According to their families, they left Reno yesterday and were planning on stopping somewhere for the night. They didn't use a credit card. Unless they travel with a lot of cash, the room wasn't too expensive," Hotch begins.

"They were not traveling on the interstate. That eliminates over half of our previous search," Emily adds. "It sounds like we're looking for somebody who works the night shift at a back road motel, and we think he's most likely in his early to mid-thirties."

"Why is that?" the sheriff asks.

"Abducting couples is an ambitious task, and this guy's had time to perfect his skill."

"He could be older."

"Don't get hung up on his age. That's the hardest thing to predict," Rossi says.

"What we do know is that females take extensive beatings from him. That, combined with the sexual assault, tells us he's a violent anger excitation rapist. A sexual sadist like this can't get off unless he's torturing and watching the effects on his victims," you state. "That part of the torture is psychological. This is another reason he takes couples. Chances are he forces one to watch his power over the other."

"Because only the women suffer sexual torture, he's likely a malignant misogynist. This typically stems from an extreme hatred towards a woman who was relentless in her psychological and physical abuse," Emily adds.

"How do you know the dad wasn't the abusive one, and he's just continuing the cycle?" the sheriff asks her.

"Only a woman could make him hate women this much. The idea of the 'terrible mother' is best illustrated in world mythology by the negative aspects of the great mother. Instead of nurturing her children, she destroyed him, and given this upbringing, it's highly unlikely he'd ever been in a relationship let alone been married."

"Since he works in the service industry, he's forced to deal with a lot of people. So, he can probably hide his aversion to women until he gets them behind closed doors. With that said, we shouldn't rule out anyone with prior offenses toward women."

"Given the amount of time he spends with his victims," Hotch says, "he requires a great deal of privacy. He may even utilize an ATV to get away from the accident sites, so the property may back up onto an off-road trail. We should therefore concentrate on the most remote motels first. Thank you."

It's time to go door to door asking managers if they had seen the missing couple. There are too many properties to double up, so you have to go alone. After a dozen people have told you they know nothing of the missing couple, it's already sundown. Everyone has been working their asses off, and it seems like you're not getting anywhere.

You make it back to the police station when everyone gets through their list. No one has any good news, and you're about to collapse from how tired you are. Hotch is still out, and you're about to call him and ask if you can take a break when you get a call from your mom.

"Hey, mom. Did you get my message?"

"I did, sweetie. Your father and I are in town right now. Could I steal you away from your job for dinner?"

"Let me ask. Send me the address, and I'll let you know if I can or not."

"Okay, sweetie."

You quickly hang up on her and get Hotch on the phone. He's not too particular about you leaving, but since your parents are down the road at a local restaurant and you've finished with your list, he allows you to go. If he needs you and Spencer, then all he has to do is call, and you'll come right back.

"Spencer, let's go," you say and grab your jacket.

"Where are we going?"

"To dinner with my parents. We won't be long in case Hotch needs us back."

"Meeting the parents, huh? Good luck, man," Derek says and pats him on the shoulder.

You two take one of the government cars and head over to the restaurant, and your parents stand when they see you enter.

"Mom! Dad!" you grin and give them both a hug. Your dad holds you for a tad longer than your mother, but you don't think anything of it. "I'd like you to meet Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mom and dad, Julie and Joey."

Your dad immediately stiffens up, and you look at him to see his eyes seething red with anger. He's trying to hide it, but you can see the underlying threat in his eyes.

"Be nice," you whisper to him before taking a seat in the booth with Spencer next to you, and your parents across from you.

"Spencer, it's nice to finally meet you," your mom says with a smile.

You wanted nothing but to enjoy dinner with your parents, but you can feel the tension in the air even without your abilities.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Y/L/N."

"So, how did you two meet?" your dad asks.

"We met at work. I had just started and he helped me learn the ropes. It wasn't until about seven or eight months after we met that we started dating." You think about Lila Archer, and how he was smitten with her. Man, that seems like so long ago. "He's a doctor, you know."

"Y/N," Spencer blushes.

"Really?" your mom asks.

"Yeah. He has three PhDs, three Bachelor's degrees, and specializes in statistics and geographical profiling. He's very smart," you grin proudly.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" your mom asks.

"I am."

"You're too young to be in love," your dad snaps.

Your dad stares at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looks at Spencer and holds his utensils with a grip so hard that his knuckles turn white.

"Dad, I can feel your anger. What is the matter?" you sigh.

"Nothing," he shrugs.

Your mom places a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs her off. You're not sure what's causing this behavior, but you try to ignore it. Even after the food comes, your dad still holds a sour look on his face.

"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" you ask, tired of his shit.

"Nothing. I'm fine." You glare at him, and he mutters something under his breath that you hear as clear as day. "Spencer isn't good enough for you."

You slam your utensils down on the table with a loud clang, and Spencer stays silent next to you.

"I love him, Daddy. That should be more than enough. We need to get back. Call me when you have a better attitude. Come on, Spencer."

You two slide out of the booth, and you toss down some money for the meal you know they were going to pay.

"I'm sorry, Spencer," you say when you get into the car.

"Don't be."

Still, you can't help but feel bad. You head back to the station, and when Derek sees the sad look on your face, he wants to question it. Spencer shakes his head at his friend, and Derek holds his tongue for now.

"Where are we at?" you ask, eager to get back into the case.

"Garcia found a connection between a motel handyman and Rebecca. They went to high school together. So, I thought maybe he was connected to other victims. It turns out he's not, but there's something else that all of the women have in common. Rebecca was found in a bra, a t-shirt, a skirt, and flip-flops. Johanna was found in a dress and sandals, and Melissa was wearing a bra, tank top, and jeans. None of them were wearing underwear."

"How do you know it was taken?" Spencer asks.

"Because they all packed it in their bags, but none were wearing it during the collisions. He leaves his victims in a car without their underwear and waits for them to be hit. A violent collision of metal against flesh. It's like the accidents are the final rape. This sexual aspect didn't show up overnight. This is something he's been building up to."

"So, this guy sees these collisions as some kind of rape?" The Sheriff asks.

"We know that an underwear fetish typically begins in adolescence with peeping in neighbors' windows. When that no longer satisfies them, they'll burglarize homes and start taking the object that arouses them."

"If they get away with that long enough, they become more confident. Then the object becomes the woman wearing it. That's when rape can occur. The one constant is they always take the underwear as a souvenir."

"Is it possible a pervert like this has ever been arrested?"

"There's a good chance a serial sex offender with an underwear fetish has been caught before."

"Right again, Agent Hotchner," Penelope says.

You didn't even know she was on the phone with the rest of the team.

"What is it, Garcia?"

"For the last two days, I've been searching through ViCAP for similar rapes and murders in cases that are still open. That has yielded me with diddly squat. So, I regrouped. I looked at some pictures of baby pandas. I went back in and I started searching for similar rapes and murders in cases that had been solved.

"Five months ago, this guy named Clint Barnes is convicted of five rapes that have been thirty miles away in Selbyville. Now, what's interesting, and by interesting I also mean icky and sad and wrong, is that Mr. Barnes only stole the undergarment of his last victim and she was beaten in exactly the same manner as our current victims. She was the only one who died," Penelope explains.

"The first four showed no sign of torture?"

"According to statements made by the survivors, yes. There were some questions about his performance. Things like, 'Did you enjoy it?'"

"That sounds like a power reassurance rapist. That doesn't fit his last crime at all," Spencer says.

"The last victim wasn't his. It was our unsubs."

"I'll push a rush through the DA's office," the Sheriff says.

With him asking the DA for the files from Selbyville, they come pretty quickly. He must know the DA for it to come that quickly.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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ladyluscinia · 1 year

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I was too busy, uh, watching more Black Sails yesterday (😆) to really notice how huge the pirate poll blew up until the drama was all over my dash, but damn

Anyway... wait, pause to acknowledge a few disclaimers like a) Black Sails and OFMD are entirely different shows for different audiences with different messages, so the individual words "gay", "pirate", and "show" hit almost every similarity they have (and they both do what they are trying to do! - it's just a poor comparison to each other), b) even a little harassment goes a long way for OP so maybe Tumblr should do less blatantly mocking them, if only because there are thousands of us and they are kinda outnumbered, and c) voting Flint in a silly pirate poll is not bravely taking OFMD to task for problematic aspects no matter how you spin it. Ok, now... Anyway, I do think this whole thing is another great case study in how petty fandom drama can look so much bigger than it actually is.

Like, for all the current narrative is this huge wave of Black Sails fans jeering and joking in the tags in support of curbstomping Stede, real numbers paint a different picture. When I checked the poll this morning, a few hours after it closed, it had around 2300 reblogs. A lot, to be clear. Plenty to look overwhelming to the poll runner in their notifs. But compare that to the total votes:

2300 vs 21,500??? Stede lost with something near 4 times as many votes as the total number of reblogs. The vote difference was nearly twice the reblog count. Even if every reblog came with commentary (not true) and all commentary was Flint fans maliciously dunking on OFMD (not remotely true), that hypothetical "toxic" element still would never have been anything near the majority. And this makes perfect sense!

It's a random cross-fandom tumblr bracket! You look at two pictures and pick either your blorbo, your fandom, the best vibes, or the guy you don't have filtered for being annoying. Hell, just positioning it at all as OFMD fandom vs Black Sails fans / OFMD haters isn't accurate, because I'm a decently skewed OFMD blog and literally everyone I saw in my section of this (massively divided) fandom was voting Flint 🤣. He wasn't an underdog in any respect.

I'm sure there was enough notably aggressive hate to upset OP since they are the one who would be getting all the notifs and even anons (who I'm sure we all expect to come in with calm and well reasoned observations 🙃), but I'm not actually sympathetic enough to pretend they didn't react terribly and contribute to blowing it out of proportion.

Flint didn't win due to a harassment campaign or even a massive resurgence of dedicated fans, guys, and Stede didn't get unfairly curbstomped into oblivion. Tumblr just widely voted on their fave pirate the way tumblr does 🤷‍♀️

#fandom culture #black sails #our flag means death #i will say that *as* an ofmd blogger #seeing people accuse the toxicity of coming from outside the fandom is adjdjfhkfdnlk #tumblr #ladyluscinia #pirate poll debacle

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of-twilight-and-moonshadow · 1 year

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Bullet Club Reunion - Emery x BC/Elite

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

This... didn't go as I originally planned it would. Takes place somewhere around the 2021 area, summertime. Estimated.

This does kinda show where she met Damian and ELP though, which later leads to other chapters of theirs, Love Language (damian) and Comfortable Silence (ELP -- he does have more, just check the masterlist).

Summary: Emery attends meet-and-greet convention that is hosting all the companies; New Japan, WWE, AEW, ROH, Impact, and Indies. There, she gets to meet with fans and old friends-- and make new ones. But what happens when the bratty Dark Angel starts to slip out? Well, someone's gotta put her back in her place, of course.

Word Count: 3,249

Tag List: @summertimefun1982 @katries @blxxckheart @pleasantpastels @moxxieswitchblade

(switchie, I'm tagging you because of the antics near the end of this >>; )

Warnings: dom-sub vibes, other languages spoke (with translations provided by google), jealousy

(divider by)

Emery loved events like this. It allowed her the opportunity to connect with the fans, much like she was able to when she was sixteen. Her brown eyes would scan over each person she saw, keeping an eye peeled for anyone that could need a friend—like she had needed Kofi. Even though she hadn’t known she did, fate had decided for her and threw him into her life. For that, Emery was eternally grateful.

She was also grateful for the air-conditioned building the convention was being held in, as the hot, humid South Carolina summer sun was making it almost unbearable outside.

Emery had been to many different conventions and meet-and-greets, but this was the first she remembered being a part of that had people from all the wrestling companies. There were representatives from New Japan, Ring of Honor, Impact, All Elite, WWE, and multiple independents. It was nice, she had to admit, that they could all mingle and talk with one another—instead of some invisible barrier seemingly keeping them apart.

“Ready for a break?” Kenny asked her, looking to his right. They were sharing a table for the event, with Matt and Nick at a table beside them on Emery’s side. Brandon was roaming around the convention, sticking mostly with the Bucks to film bits for Being the Elite.

“Yeah, that’d be fine,” Emery nodded, looking over at the brothers, “You guys taking a break?”

“Might as well. My wrist is getting a little sore anyway,” Matt frowned, rolling the wrist in question in an attempt to soothe the bones and muscles. He had recently landed on it wrong during a match, resulting in a minor tear. It wasn’t enough to need surgery or a brace, but the doctor did tell him no wrestling for at least two weeks to ensure it healed properly.

Kenny and Nick put up the ‘Back Soon’ signs on their respective tables before they all got up and started walking around the large room, seeing who was there. Unfortunately, some of the wrestlers couldn’t make it to the event, so some spots were empty- but there were still a decent number of names there. Colt Cabana and Mark Sterling were among the AEW roster that couldn’t make their appearances, as well as Ring of Honor’s Dalton Castle and Impact’s Chelsea Green, Emery noticed as they passed by the ROH and Impact sections set up. Reaching the start of the WWE tables, she noticed a few empty spots but also saw several people she’d love to talk to.

The unfortunate part? She was way too shy to approach them.

Namely—Finn Balor. Emery was well aware he had created Bullet Club. Without him, there would BE no Bullet Club. She had also used inspiration from him for her Dark Angel persona, carefully watching all his matches where he would bring out the Demon.

Beside him sat Damian Priest, his fellow Judgement Day stable mate.

“Very attractive stable mate—" Emery blushed at the thought that crossed her mind, quickly looking away before he could see her ogling him.

“Haro, Finn,” Kenny greeted in Japanese as they passed by, giving him a respectful nod. (T: "Hello, Finn.")

“Hajimemashite, Kenny,” Finn smiled, “Dangan club wa atode 4ji koro ni issho ni atsumari masu.” (T: "Nice to see you, Kenny." "Bullet Club is meeting together later on, around four.")

“Karera wa? Tanoshi sou desu ne. Kaigi wa doko ni ari masu ka.” (T: "Are they? Sounds fun. Where is the meeting?")

The Bucks nudged one another as they watched Emery’s face drop into a frown as she tried translating the words. Japanese never was easy for her to learn, so for most of her time spent in New Japan, she heavily relied on Kenny to translate. They also knew, as did Kenny—and anyone who knew her, really—that Kenny’s voice, especially when he spoke Japanese, made her weak in the knees. If she were animated, she would have hearts in her eyes as she listened to him speak the language.

“Hol no tan ni aru saigo heya, executive no heya.” (T: "Last room at the end hall, the executive one.")

“Ii desu ne, sokode o ai shi masho u,” Kenny nodded as a fan approached Finn’s table. (T: "Sounds good, we will see you there.")

Emery stood there beside him, a pout on her face as she listened to the two talked, the Japanese rolling off their tongue flawlessly. Kenny laughed when he saw the look on her face, deciding to toy with her some more—knowing how she felt when he spoke the language.

“Dou shi ta no, watashi no tenshi? Anata wa iwa re ta koto wa kanzen ni rikai suru koto ga deki mase nichi ka? Aa, demo, watashi gak ono you ni hanasu toki, anata ga watashi no koe wa kiku no ga dorehodo suki ka shitsu te iya masu. Tanoshin de iya masu ne?” (T: "What’s the matter, my angel? Are you not able to fully understand what was said? Ah, but I know how much you like listening to my voice when I talk like this. You enjoy it, don’t you?")

“Zonzai,” Emery huffed, using one of the few words she did know in Japanese, causing all three to chuckle at her. (T: "Rude.")

In a rare public display of affection, Kenny leaned close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before they continued on. Soon after, they came across a rather… interesting setup.

“Okay, Creed, how much did you pay to rig THIS up?” Emery laughed, seeing that his table was right next to a table that sat Claudio and Adam Cole. To the other side of Creed was another table with Tyler Breeze and NWA’s Dirty Dango.

“I beg your pardon,” Creed recoiled defensively, “I would never do such a thing.”

“Right, sure,” Emery nodded, narrowing her eyes playfully. She saw the spot beside him was empty and looked at the banner behind Creed, her heart dropping in dismay. “Kofi couldn’t make it?”

“Nah,” Creed shook his head, frowning, “One of his kids got sick the other day. One of those contagious bugs. I can video him if you want to talk?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pointing to it as Emery’s eyes brightened up. Quickly, Nick and Matt jumped in, shaking their hands.

“Nah, nah, nah—you call him, she will take your phone for the next five to seven hours,” Nick warned, Emery frowning at him as Creed slowly slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Zonzai,” Emery glared at the Bucks, crossing her arms in front of her. (T: "Rude.")

“Nice going, Ken. You and Finn started her on her Japanese trend. Now she’ll keep on for the next, oh… three days?” Matt sighed as Kenny shrugged.

“Maybe I’ll teach her more, just to expand her vocabulary, and she can annoy you more,” Kenny threatened playfully as the Bucks rolled their eyes.

“Great.”

“Exactly what we need.”

“Do I get a hug, or am I still dead?” Adam asked, giving his best puppy dog eyes to Emery.

She smiled over at him, taking a step forward before pausing.

“Hmm… I should check with Kye first. Something seems… off.”

“Oh, come on!” Adam laughed, deflating at the accusation, “You should know him and me by now. We team up and then fight, team up and then fight. It’s our cycle, it’s what we do.”

“So, like a rotating boyfriend. On again, off again,” Nick smirked.

“Sure,” Adam shrugged, “I bet within the next year or so, he and I will be back together.”

“…. Okay, fine I guess you can have a hug then.”

“Sweet,” Adam smiled, hopping up off his chair and around the table. His arms snaked around Emery’s body, giving her a warm hug, smiling to himself as Emery returned the hug.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Emery murmured against his chest, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, same. It’s been a while,” Adam whispered back, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he let go.

“What, no hug for me?” Creed questioned, unamused.

“I dunno depends.”

“On what?” he deadpanned, not liking where this was going.

“Give me a rematch.”

“Never.”

“Then no hug.”

“Fine. I don’t need one anyway,” Creed frowned, waving her off.

“ZONZAI!” (T: "RUDE!")

“This is Swiss, by the way,” Adam said, introducing Claudio as he gave a wave from his seat. Emery turned her glare away from Creed to smile at Claudio, giving him a friendly wave.

“You hear about the thing later on?” Kenny asked Adam, who gave a nod.

“What thing?”

“Yeah, Finn told me. You guys gonna be there?”

“Be where?”

“Might consider it,” Matt shrugged.

“Consider what?”

“It’ll be nice hanging out together.”

“Guys,” Emery cried, pouting, “Stop ignoring meeeee.”

Everyone, including Swiss, Creed, and Breeze (who had walked over closer), laughed as she crossed her arms in front of her.

“Are they bullying you again, Darlin’?” Hangman questioned, walking up behind her.

“Yes!” Emery frowned, spinning around and throwing herself against his frame, her arms wrapping around Hangman and holding tight. He sighed, a small smile crossing his face as he wrapped his own arms around her and rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Hangman?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her as she tilted her head up.

“Do you know what nice thing is going on later that people might be going to?”

Hangman swallowed thickly as he stared into her eyes; accompanying her pout were the patented puppy dog eyes that worked on just about everyone she met. He stayed silent, unable to look away, but when her chin started to wobble, and tears began to build at the edges of her eyes, he panicked.

“It’s a surprise,” Hangman quickly said, his blue eyes wide as he finally was able to blink.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah—you don’t want to ruin the surprise, right?” he asked her as she slowly shook her head. The puppy dog waterworks that threatened to spill were gone, her chin no longer wobbling.

“All right then,” Hangman smiled, giving her forehead a quick kiss. As she let go of him and turned back around to the others, Hangman gave a silent but very visible sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly as he shook his head.

“I told you not to teach her the puppy dog eyes,” Nick frowned, lightly smacking Matt on his shoulder.

“Ow, hey!”

“You guys are way too much,” Creed shook his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world,” Emery smiled. She loved her dysfunctional friends and makeshift family unit.

“You guys been over there yet?” Adam asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. They all looked and saw the all too familiar black and white symbols on several tables, as well as the distinguishable ‘NJPW’ letters nearby.

“Not yet. Who’s here, do you know?” Matt asked him.

“Not too many, I think only six or seven actually showed. David Finlay and O’spreay are no-shows.”

“Good,” Emery deadpanned. There was no love lost for O’Spreay and something about Finlay she just didn’t like too much.

“But I have noticed Robinson, Ishimori, ELP, and Switchblade.”

“Jay’s here?” Emery brightened up.

“Yeah, he’s down there. Have you met the others yet?” Adam asked her.

“I think I remember Juice a little… but not the other two. Kenny, can we—”

“Our break’s almost up, Angelface. Maybe if we have time later,” Kenny told her as he began steering her away from the black and white.

“Fine,” Emery pouted, “Bye guys, we’ll see you!” As Emery, Kenny, and Hangman walked away, Matt, Nick, and Adam shared a look of amusement.

“It’s funny how much she’s opened up since the end of 2013,” Adam smiled, “Heck, even since I left in 2017. She was still a little shy back then, only being herself around certain people. Now? Even Swiss gets a warm welcome.”

“Right? I think it’s Kenny’s weirdness that’s rubbing off on her,” Nick joked.

“Very likely,” Matt agreed, “Anyway, we gotta get back too. See ya later at the reunion.”

“All right, guys, I’ll see ya.”

----A Few Hours Later---

“But I’m hungry,” Emery frowned as Matt and Nick carefully led her through the hall. Kenny was walking along behind her, his hands covering her eyes in an effort to keep the ‘surprise’ going.

“We know you are Ree, but you can eat at the surprise,” Nick told her.

“There will be food there?”

“Should be—if someone thought about getting some…” Matt frowned as they stopped right outside the closed door. They had led her around the hallways for a solid ten minutes or so, tricking her into thinking they had gone farther away than they actually had.

“All right, ready?” Nick asked her as she excitedly nodded her head.

“Are you gonna tell her, or are we?”

“We should let Hangman—he’s the one that said it.”

“Said what?” Emery frowned; her eyes were still covered by Kenny’s hands. He dropped his hands, letting her see the closed door before she turned around, confused. The Bucks stood beside Kenny, looking at her apologetically.

“It’s…. not really a surprise, kitten,” Kenny admitted, an apologetic smile on his face.

“What?”

“Yeah, Hangman came up with something on the fly to keep you from crying.”

“Ihr idioten!” Emery growled, crossing her arms in front of her as Claudio was walking by on his way out of the venue. He stopped short and looked over at her, a brief look of amusement on his face before he switched it to shock. (T: "You jerks!") ((german))

Behind her, the door opened, and voices flowed from inside the room; shortly after, it clicked shut softly. Whoever had exited the room stood behind her in silence, watching and waiting.

“Language, little lady.”

“Verpiss dich, Schweizer,” she grumbled, not even looking at him as she pouted. (T: "Piss off, Swiss.")

“Rude,” Claudio frowned, causing Kenny to look at Emery in surprise before sighing in disappointment.

“She really being cruel?” Nick asked Claudio, who nodded in return.

“I’m slightly insulted and impressed at the same time.”

“Niemand--!” Swiss held up his hands in surrender before exiting through the door, leaving them to their own devices. (T: "Nobody--!")

Kenny frowned at her, cutting her off as he said, “Sate, juubun nani chiisana onnanoko. Anata ga furumawa nai nara—” (T: "Okay, enough little girl. If you don’t behave--")

“Shove it,” Emery huffed, turning her head to look away from all of them.

From behind her, a strong hand wove into her hair before gripping and yanking her head back slightly. The sudden action caught Emery by surprise, a gasp escaping her throat as her hands reached back to grab at the hand behind her.

“Is my princess being a little brat?” A familiar voice growled in her ear, his head resting against hers. Kenny, Nick, and Matt stood there silently, not doing anything to help her—not even when her eyes darted to them from her current stance, wordlessly pleading with them.

“Sorry, Ree, you brought it upon yourself,” Matt shrugged.

“Besides, you were so excited earlier to see him,” Kenny told her, his eyes narrowing in slight jealousy.

“I—I—”

“Here I was hoping we could have a fun time. Hadn’t seen you in some years now… but no,” the voice sighed in disappointment, tugging back a little rougher, “No, you had to go and cop an attitude for no reason.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Jay.”

“Not me you should be apologizing to, Princess.”

“I’m sorry, Kenny.”

“And?”

“H-he’s gone—”

“Say it,” Jay growled, his grip tightening in a warning.

“Sorry, Claudio.”

“Good girl,” Jay commended, his grip loosening slightly, “Now, are we going to behave, or do I have to show the rest of Bullet Club how to keep you in line?”

“I’ll behave.”

“Good choice, princess,” Jay told her, kissing the side of her head as he let her go, smirking at Kenny, “That’s how you deal with that. I thought Dark Angel was your territory, Omega. Didn’t seem to be able to handle her that time.”

“I would have gotten there, but you had to butt in, White,” Kenny glared at him.

“Wait—did you say ‘rest of bullet club’ ?” Emery questioned, turning around to face Jay with wide eyes.

“That’s right, princess. Did these idiots not tell you?”

She shook her head no, holding her breath as she waited in anticipation.

“Of course, they didn’t,” Jay rolled his eyes before pointing over his shoulder, “Finn realized that a good chunk of Bullet Club past and present was going to be at this event, so he decided to hold a mini-reunion.”

“Really?!”

“Really. Shall we?” Jay extended a hand towards her, which she giddily took, missing the dark look across Kenny’s face as she followed Jay into the room. He threw a wink over his shoulder before the door shut behind him, leaving the Bucks and Kenny outside in the hall.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it, Matt?”

“Nope, and I think that’s a new record.”

“Record for what?” Kenny snapped, looking at the brothers.

“For someone making you jealous,” Nick laughed, “C’mon, let’s get in there before the current Bullet Club steals her away from us. You know she’s a fan of ELP.”

Kenny quickly pushed past them and stalked into the room, trying to keep his composure. He noticed that Phantasmo, Ishimori, and Juice had already swarmed Jay and Emery, and it took everything in him not to walk over there and lead her away. Soon, even Chris Bey and Ace Austin joined them, talking to Emery and making her laugh.

“He’s jealous, ain’t he?” Anderson questioned, coming to stand beside Matt.

“Record time, too,” Matt told him, causing Anderson to let out a low whistle.

“Wow. Jay really knows how to push those buttons, doesn’t he?”

“Yepp,” Nick nodded, chuckling slightly as he noticed a frown appear on Jay’s face. El Phantasmo had whisked Emery away towards the food table, seemingly stealing her from his friend.

“Looks like Jay has some competition himself,” Matt noticed, grinning.

“Not jus’ him,” Finn said, walking over to them, “Damian’s been talking my ear off all evening abou’ her.” The Irishman nodded his head in Emery’s direction, and they watched as the tall Puerto Rican walked up to her and El Phantasmo. He said something to her, causing her to laugh—and immediately, Phantasmo’s face seemed to fall a bit.

“This is going to get really, really interesting,” Nick realized.

“Just wait till Hangman finds out,” Matt chuckled.

“She’s gonna have to have a battle royal or a tournament—something—to crown a winner,” Gallows said as he joined the group, watching across the room.

“My bets on Kenny,” Nick shrugged.

“Why Kenny?” Anderson asked.

“The eyes, gaming, dorkiness, and the Japanese.”

“Jays got an accent, pretty eyes, very toned and muscular, and isn’t afraid to put her in her place when the Dark Angel comes out.”

“Fair point. But Damian’s tall and has all those muscles, plus speaks another language.”

“So? Hangman’s a cowboy. All chicks love cowboys. He’s got an accent of sorts-- and blue eyes.”

“Riley’s tall, toned, and has a blue-green looking eye color. Loves music too. An equal mix of good guy and bad boy.”

“Something tells me this isn’t going to be over any time soon,” Nick smirked, watching as Emery was surrounded by almost everyone, a smile on her face as she listened to each one. This was definitely going to get interesting.

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theresthesnitch · 2 years

Note

can I ask 8, 18 and 19?

Sure you can, Love! Thanks for sending them.

Send me an ask from this list!

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

Nearly everything I read gets a comment or kudos on AO3, sometimes even on rereads. That's not universally true, but it's more true than not.

Reblogs, I'm worse at. If I read a fic because it came across my dash, and I read it there, I reblog it immediately. If it's something I know I love and will be reading, I'll reblog with a TBR tag. If I open it and it takes me two weeks to get to it (because that does happen) I don't reblog, generally. I don't usually seek out a reblog of a fic unless it's active on my dash. (I recognize that I could do better here. Sorry fellow writers!)

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

Sigh... Twist of Fate, which I can't tag because I deleted it from AO3 so I could rewrite and repost it. Basic premise was Wolfstar meeting in a club, kissing, but failing to exchange numbers or names, cannot find each other again. Meanwhile, James and Lily (who were there with Sirius and Remus, respectively) meet, date, fall in love, and get engaged, including introducing each other to their best friends.... and the plot revolved around a bunch of near misses with Wolfstar never getting together until.....

It's been a year, almost, since I worked on it, and it only had a handful of followers anyway. I keep promising myself I'll go back and finish it, but alas...

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

Mostly, I edit them. I do at least a casual read through. I won't post smut without a solid read through, because awkward smut is just uncomfortable. However, sometimes I post with far less editing than I should because I'm just doooooone.

#snitch answers asks #another writer ask game #Twist of Fate

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avulleonastick · 2 years

Text

@toasthaste tagged me for a "put your playlist on shuffle and post the first 10 songs that pop out" thing, so!

(I'm using my "liked songs" playlist on Spotify.)

1: High on Life (by Afterklaps)

I had to actually double check I shuffled, because this is in the most recent like, ten songs I've liked. Also, it fucking slaps I love it so much. I've listened to it on repeat for like, hours, and I'm still not tired of it. (This is very rare, normally I play songs until I hate them.)

2: Killer in the Mirror (by Set It Off)

Set It Off! I'm glad they are here, they are probably my favorite band like, by the numbers. I've listened to their entire discography and liked half of it. (They're like, angry white boy punk rock, but not quite as misogynistic as most of that genre feels.) This song in particular reminds me of taking long walks through this park near one of my old apartments, because I did that a lot while I was in my listening-to-set-it-off phase.

I still sometimes seek out Set It Off and listen to their songs! I have not totally played them out, which is cool.

3: This Ain't Nothing (by Craig Morgan)

Country Music! This is an important part of my, like, history or whatever. I grew up listening to country music, so it will permanently have a soft spot in my art even though a lot of it is Big Yikes. This song is Little Yikes. I still like it! I had a big country kick last year where I liked a whole bunch of country songs from the nineties and early aughts that lasted about two weeks (a good two weeks though!) Anyways that was before I transitioned most of country music feels worse because i know the singers would hate me now anyways!

4: NONSTOP (by OH MY GIRL)

K-pop! I love k-pop! There is respectable k-pop, and then there's horny pandering k-pop. This is horny pandering k-pop. Not maximally so (thank god I didn't get stuck with any EXID songs), but still pretty pandery! Anyways I listened to this song... NONSTOP (heh, but actually). I really like it.

I got into k-pop when I was learning Korean, and it stuck because it is objectively Peak Pop.

5: Whiskey Lullaby (feat Allison Krauss) (by Brad Paisley)

It's the Country Suicide Song! It's about suicide! It was very popular when I was in high school! It's also very good! Probably don't listen to it if you are troubled by suicidal ideation!

It contains the line "So he a bottle to his head, and pulled the trigger", which is a line that has lived rent free in my head for the last like fifteen years.

(Also yes, that is the Accidental Racist guy. This other stuff is better than that.)

6: 東京IMAGINE (by Carat) (Read "Tokyo IMAGINE")

J-pop! I have listened to a lot of J-pop because when I immerse myself in Japanese I also try and listen to lots of Japanese music. Tragically, I generally don't like Japanese music as much as I like English or Korean music. It sucks, and I am very mad about it. My life is very hard.

This song slaps, though. I found Carat fairly recently, and I love them a lot.

7: Maybe You're the Problem (by Ava Max)

Ava Max! I found her in the last year and I love her music so much. It is very Angry Heterosexual Girl Power which is sometimes a surprise to me because I sometimes forget straight women exist. Her songs rock, though. Probably the first genuinely excellent Spotify Radio I've ever had was based on an Ava Max song, where I got more Ava Max songs and a whole bunch of other pop artists with similar sounds.

8: Empire (by Beth Crowley)

I have nothing in particular to say about this song. I recognized the name, but didn't actually remember what it sounds like. I'm listening to it now, though, and I remember it and it slaps. I dig it.

9: Tic Tic Toc (by T-ARA)

T-ARA! One of my first favorite k-pop bands! I found T-ARA through the Japanese covers of their own songs when I was doing japanese immersion way back when. I loved those songs so much, I listened to them so much like... way back in sophomore year of college. I still love them, but not quite as much as I loved them then. This is not my favorite of their songs.

Also I hear there was some pretty horrible in-group bullying that went on in that group which makes me vaguely uncomfortable when I listen to them.

10: Get the F*ck out of Here (by Kobra and The Lotus)

I legit didn't recognize this song name, but I recognized the first couple bars when I played it. It slaps, but I have no particular feelings about it. It is metal, though! That is good! I like metal a lot, and it's important that it's represented here. Alas, I wish this was Battle Beast, my Favorite Metal Band. Or, alternatively, Smash into Pieces, the most prolific band in all of history which I mostly like.

I'm not going to tag people because I'm a Coward! But you should also do this, and then lie and say I told you to do it! Interact with me! Shower me in attention!

#me talking about me #ask meme #or like #something adjacent to that

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

Never Again, I Promise

AO3 link! y'all, listen, this one was floating around in my head for weeks and I finally had a breakthrough cause of a random tumblr post I made..... anyway, you know what? I finally forced myself to finish it up I hope y'all enjoy it, tell me your thoughts if you'd like to! and as always, sorry for any grammatical errors!

warning: implied abusive parents, clingy reader, and lactation

-----

"Cassie, hi, do you know where your mother is? I've been looking for her all morning." You asked when you ran into Alcina second oldest daughter, Cassandra.

Cassandra scratched her head. "I think she might be in the library or her study or her office. Honestly, Y/ N, Mother is usually all over the castle before a meeting." Cassandra replied.

You nodded your head. "Okay, I'll just check all those places until I find her. Thanks." You replied before heading to the library.

You didn't expect yourself to want to be near the tall vampire lady when you first arrived at the castle, but she was so kind to you that you took to her like a baby animal imprinting on the first thing it saw. The library was a bust, but you did find Daniela, Alcina's youngest, in there studying her French.

"Hey, Dani, do you know where your Mother is? I asked Cassandra and she said that she might be here, her study, or her office." You asked as you walked up to her.

Daniela shrugged. "Well, there's a meeting coming up so those last two choices are good places to look. Unless, no, I can't tell you about that place. Anyway, yeah, her study or her office, check there. If you still can't find her then come back and we'll look for her together." Daniela replied.

You sighed. "Okay. Thanks." You said before heading out of the library.

You checked her study, knocking on the door first and getting no reply so you opened the door slightly and poked your head inside. Sigh, she wasn't in there either. You crossed your fingers and hoped that she was in her office. As you walked in the direction of her study which was on the other side of the castle you ran into Bela, Alcina's oldest.

"Bela, hi! Do you know if your Mother is in her office?" You asked.

Bela nodded her head. "She is! I just came from there, but if you go in there be cautious. There's-"

You cut her off. "A meeting, I know. I'll try to be respectful of her space." You replied. That was going to be a bit hard to do since you just wanted to invade her space as much as you could. You headed to where Alcina's office was and knocked on the door. "Alci?" You called out, your voice slightly muffled through the thick door.

"Come in, little one." Alcina said and you pushed the door opened. "What can I do for you?" Alcina asked as she continued to do her work.

You walked over to the desk. "I was just- can I sit?" You asked. Alcina nodded her head and you wedged yourself between her and her desk much to her surprise.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Alcina asked as you got comfortable in her lap.

"I asked if I could sit and you said yes. I can, I can mo-" You started to say but Alcina shook her head. "I'll be good, promise." You said quietly as you let her get back to her work. You quickly grew bored just sitting in her lap and started squirming, moving along to a beat that was playing in your head.

Alcina pressed her hand into your side to keep you still. "Y/N, I cannot concentrate if you're going to do that." Alcina said. "Why don't you go bring a chair over and you can sit next to me?" Alcina suggested.

You pouted a bit at the idea, but reluctantly removed yourself from her lap to bring a chair over. She patted the top of your head when you sat down and you smiled to yourself. You didn't want to seem like you were trying to annoy her, but you were still bored so you tapped her arm.

"Yes, Y/N?" Alcina asked, not taking her eyes off her paper.

"Alci, I'm bored." You replied. "Do you have anything I can do?"

Alcina let out a small sigh before nodding her head. "The girls used to come in here all the time. There are pencils, crayons, paper, and colouring books. You can use whatever you want, but please try to keep as quiet as possible. I still have tons of paperwork to do." Alcina said.

You nodded your head. "Okay, Alci." You replied with a small smile before digging into the drawer that Alcina had pointed to. You sat on the floor by the fire after you'd gotten some coloured pencils and a colouring book. As you coloured, you started humming to yourself, catching Alcina's attention.

"Dear," You snapped your head up to look at her, flushing a bit. You gave her an apologetic smile. "Thank you."

It wasn't long before you stopped colouring to look up at Alcina. "Ali?" You called out. She hummed in reply. "Can I sit in your lap again? The floor hurts." You whined. You heard her sigh a bit before she nodded her head, scooting her chair back a bit so you had enough room to get on her lap. "Much better." You said with a small sigh as you sat on her.

It was an hour later before Alcina patted your side to get your attention. "I'm afraid I have to make a call to Mother Miranda, little one." You nodded your head and got up from her lap.

"Can I stay?" You asked. Alcina shook her head. "Please, Ali? I'll be quiet, promise."

"I don't know, Y/N. This is a very important phone call." Alcina said as she headed to the phone. You nodded your head, understanding her decision. "But if you really promise to be quiet then I suppose." You smiled at her and moved to pick up your stuff when she stopped you. "It'd be best if you stayed right here. Things with Mother Miranda can get quite... tense. And I'd hate for you to get caught in the middle of the rage she incites in me. Do you understand, little one?"

"I understand, Ali." You replied, albeit a bit dejectedly. You moved your things up onto Alcina’s desk as she sat down in front of the phone.

Alcina gave you a small smile before she dialled Mother Miranda’s number. You had tuned out most of their conversation, only ever jumping when Alcina would growl and pull you out of your thoughts. You didn’t let it bother you much, but you still closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm yourself down. It was going well until Alcina had slammed the phone down onto the receiver and threw it at the wall on the other side of the study.

You quickly got up and headed over to where she was seated, your heart beating fast. “Alcina?” You called out, but she ignored you. You called out her name again, attempting to rest your hand on her shoulder, but froze when hers shot out and grabbed yours.

Alcina slowly turned to look at you, her eyes narrow as she stared at you. Her nostrils flared and her chest heaved heavily. You let out a small whimper and tugged on your arm when her grip tightened. “Alcina, please, you’re hurting me.”

“I thought I specifically told you to stay at the desk.” Alcina growled. “But what can I expect from a clingy little mouse? I tell you to do one thing and you don’t listen. Do you need a punishment to help reinforce the rules, is that what you require? Answer me!” Alcina spat at you.

Your lip trembled as she spoke to you. Did she really think you were clingy? Your face flushed as your anger got a hold of you and you ripped your arm from her iron-like grip. “I hate you! I hate you! You’re just like them!” You didn’t realise you were crying until you had run out of the office and to Alcina’s room.

You hid in the closet, terrified of what she’d do if she found you. She wanted to punish you, she wanted to hurt you. You whimpered at the memories of what your parents did to you if you even so much as breathed in their direction. But your Alcina would never hurt you, would she?

You wrapped your arms around yourself, sobbing into your knees. “Clingy. She thinks I’m clingy.” You whisper to yourself. You sniffled and felt yourself tense at the sound of heels, Alcina’s heels. You burrowed yourself further into her closet, grateful for how big it was.

“Y/N, I know you’re in there.” Alcina rasped out. “Please, I’m sorry. Please, just come out.” You could hear the cracking of her voice. “When you said that you… you hated me, my heart broke, draga mea. I never wish to harm you. And when you compared me to those monsters you had to call parents, I felt sick to my stomach. I don’t wish for you to view me as you view them.”

“Alcina?” You replied softly, not moving from your spot. You heard rustling in the room before the closet door opened. “Alcina?” Your lip trembled again as you felt tears build up in your eyes again.

Alcina crouched down in the closet before crawling over to you. “Iubirea mea, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for the way I snapped at you, please?” Alcina asked as you crawled into her lap, burying your head in her neck.

You sniffled. “You… you called me cli-clingy. Yo-you h-hurt me, Ali.” You whispered into her neck.

“I never should have said that. I was just so frustrated with Mother Miranda and you… I never want you to see me like that again.” Alcina replied, pressing kisses to your forehead. You nodded into her neck, scooting down to lay in the crook of her arm. You were still crying softly as she caressed your cheek. “Shh, shh, little one, I’ve got you.” Alcina said as she brought one of her breasts out of her dress.

You squeezed it in a silent question and Alcina nodded her head. She let out a small sigh when you latched onto the nipple, putting you in a better position to get her milk.

“Never again, my love, I promise. Never again.” Alcina said softly as you drank from her. You felt your eyes start to droop as you suckled at her breast. “Rest now, little one.” Alcina pressed another kiss to your forehead, running her hand down your back as you fell asleep in her arms.

-----

Tag List (click here to join): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp,@rachelthefanfictionwriter ,@d14n4ol, and @peachesandlesbians

(@Followingmyheartledtoyou, @Gansito83 - won't tag properly) and Anna (no @ yet??)

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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sslow-dancer · 3 years

Note

hi! can i request a one shot with polnareff x reader but he’s still stuck as the turtle but a twist like the princess and the frog? the reader kisses the turtle and he comes back to being his old (part 3) self because the reader is the one? lots of fluff plzzz? ty ;w;

A/N: Okay but this idea is so unbelievably cute?! I apologize for taking forever to get it done. I went a bit deep and overboard with the storyline on a request that is so simple and I’m pretty sure this is my longest one up to date actually BUT- it’s whatever. There’s plenty of fluff near the end, I promise. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it too!! 🤍

(If this flops, I will be so sad omg)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re The One, My Love.” (Jean Pierre Polnareff x Reader)

Warnings: mentions of drug abuse and depression

tags: gender-neutral, gender-inclusive, jean pierre polnareff x reader, turtle pol, magical, kiss, twist, slight angst, sfw, fluff

Description: One day after having to escort Polnareff as orders from your boss, you begin to grow quite fond of him. During your usual hangouts, you jokingly offer to kiss him as a way to recreate one of your favorite fairytales.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You giggle as Jean pulls you into a kiss, you feel him smile as he holds your face gently. You’re happy to see the man you love not be as serious and hurt as he was when you first met him. Your expression reminiscent of the memories shared between you before this moment.

~A Year Before~

Your personal servant had drawn the curtains. Your eyes fluttered open, body awaken by the bright sunlight shining from your windows and murmurs outside your bedroom. You groaned in frustration as you threw a pillow at him, he managed to catch it and place it back by your bed frame. You huffed,

“Didn’t boss say I have the week off? I’m allowed to sleep in.” you stated blankly, remembering how you had the strong urge to strangle him for ruining your slumber. He shook his head as he sat by the edge of your bed and pointed at the clock that stood on top of your nightstand. You distinctly remember the screen marked 7:25AM exactly. You sighed as you thought you could’ve at least slept in by 10. You sat up and criss crossed your legs and played with the lose strings of your blanket as he replied.

“Technically you do, but today is last minute and different. Sr. Giovanna wants you to escort out a close individual he works with today by 8.”

Frustrated, you plopped your hands down onto your lap and rolled your eyes as you said back,

“Not to be bratty but...can’t he just do that himself or get one of you to do it?” you raised your pointers and middle fingers to create air quotations “This individual must be pretty important if not even the boss can take care of it.”

Your servant shut his eyes and sighed. After what you had just told him, deep down you felt bad about how much he had to deal with your bull on a daily basis- not to mention your constant grumbling in the morning whether he woke you or not. Either way, you were pretty grumpy most mornings. He shook his head again.

“It’s not that either. Sr. Giovanna could easily lead him out but he’s currently finishing business with other people in the country. Sr. Mista is with him as well so you’re the only one we have present. They both must attend all meetings, they are not to miss one.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What’s so important about him or her or whatever the hell they go by?”

“I’ll let you figure that out for yourself.” He said finally as he patted your bed as a way to non-verbally tell you to get ready.

You huffed when he exited the room, plopping your back down hard into the foamy mattress. You roughly grabbed at the pillow you had thrown earlier and placed it over your face, you screamed into it for a good 10 seconds.

Looking back, were you being a little too dramatic? Yes, sure- of course. It’d make anyone cringe if they were to had witnessed it though you didn’t really mind. You were still maturing anyway. You were still getting used to the life Giorno Giovanna and Guido Mista had offered and gladly given to you.

Before meeting your boss Giovanna and his right hand man Mista, you had been living life miserably at home. Though before anyone asks, no: your parents were not abusive, no: your siblings weren’t either, no: nor were your friends or teachers. You had just become very distressed with the life you were leading on. You didn’t like the person you were and were expected to become. Anxiety took over rather unexpectedly. So what did you do when you had enough? You moved on to drugs.

You were surprised to find out how easy it was for a person in their late teens to gain access towards those terrible substances. But none the less, you later learned your dealer was from the mafia known as “Passione.”

Was it dangerous for you to have figured out that information? Yes. However, you remained cautious and never told a soul...until one day you bumped into the now late capo, Bruno Bucciarati.

You were walking down your local dealing alleyway, hands in pockets and school bag still in sight. You usually dealt after school as many adults were distracted by the kids that filled up the streets. Thus making them barely notice the illegal activity going on as a large number of students would walk down alleyways as a shortcut to their home. You were swift in paying back and receiving your desired substances anyway.

All of a sudden you heard a distant call, a call out of your name. You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at the direction from where the call was coming from, that’s when you saw him. He stood a few feet from you.

“I’m glad I was able to find you...my name is Bruno Bucciarati. Your parents sent me to look for you, they’ve mentioned to me that you’ve been coming home late from school lately.”

You only shrugged and completely ignored his claim. You began walking away but were stopped again when he said,

“Leaky eyed Luca deals with you, doesn’t he?”

You kept your gaze forward and your back turned away from Bruno. Turning your head slightly over your shoulder, you mumbled,

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone?”

Without having to look at him, you knew he had tilted his head when he answered.

“That depends. If you answer honestly, no trouble will occur. I’ll remain calm with you, that is a promise.”

You blinked, sighing as you kicked at the small pebbles near your feet, staring at your shoes as you thought about what he said.

You had been dealing with Luca and you knew that his business was risky. Though you didn’t care. You felt that you needed to get the drugs you wanted pronto and Luca was the only one who would give them to you quickly. You shook your head, deciding to give up as you didn’t want anyone to notice you both speaking. You turned to face him and quietly replied,

“Yes, he deals with me. He’s the provider, I’m the receiver.”

Bruno smiled, satisfied with your answer.

He followed up with informing you that Luca had been killed at a local airport and was told to investigate his death. He didn’t provide too many details as to the cause of his death but you didn’t feel like asking anyway. Bruno admitted he came to speak to you as hours prior one of your parents really did come to speak to him about your behavior. After connecting some dots, he suspected you had something to do with Luca’s death as you were not attending school and were gone for most of the day. Not to mention, your teachers had called your parents that day as well.

Luckily, he was able to clear you out as a suspect as you cooperated with him and weren’t sweaty or completely jittery. He also gave you a little talk about using drugs. He promised he wouldn’t tell your parents that you got yourself involved in that abusive life if you promised to not buy more again.

You truly felt at the time that he was the only one who understood and cared for you in just the short time you met him. Your eyes watered as you complied with Bruno, promising to do what he suggested. A promise you have held onto forever.

After some investigating of your own, you found out that it was your future boss that killed Luca. You were rather impressed than angry that he was able to kill him. You honestly believed Luca would never be caught.

Back to the day you had to escort this individual- after some more complaining and grumpy remarks towards everyone in the household, you were finally ready to meet them. Your personal servant led you to the front door. He made sure to quietly remind you to be polite.

Your attention turned to another servant walking down the stairs towards your direction. A pillow in hand with a piece of cloth covering whatever was on top it. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, laughing as you sarcastically remarked,

“Is this some kind of joke? It’s not April, is it?”

“No, but I guess this household treating me with the upmost respect is.”

Your eyes widen. ‘Did that thing under the cloth just speak?” you asked yourself.

The servant removed the cloth and there revealed a turtle. A turtle with a key-shaped hole embedded on its shell. You almost assumed that the turtle smirked at you when he added,

“I know, don’t be too surprised. I plan to get out of this animal once my soul decides to give up. I haven’t always looked like this, ya know.”

Your mouth gaped open as to say something, but you quickly shut it as you didn’t know how to reply. He chuckled,

“Hand me over to them, we’ll talk more when we get to my destination.”

You hesitantly took the pillow from the servant’s hands and remained in shock as you walked out the door. You were careful not to drop him as you got down to the front gates. Gulping as you asked,

“So...my servant wasn’t that specific on me having to leave you in the car or actually riding with you. It’s kind of my fault as I don’t like to listen and talk in the morning...”

You nervously laughed as he looked up to you. He replied,

“It’s quite alright. I was told you have to ride with me. But don’t worry, you won’t have to stay for long. It’s only around a 10 minute ride.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You sat behind the passenger seat and placed the pillow in the middle, right next to your side.

The ride was relatively quiet, you looked out the window as you kept a fist under your chin. Your expression showed that of concern. You were too nervous to say anything. Even though he had joked back earlier, you were afraid he didn’t like you as his voice stayed stern throughout your small talk. You were afraid you had offended him in some way.

Your mood changed when the driver alerted that you had arrived. You thanked him as he opened the door for you, your hands grasped the pillow tightly so the talking turtle wouldn’t fall. You asked him with a small voice.

“Is there anywhere you’d like for me to set you?”

“Yes... put me on top of that balcony over there. I want to look at the lake.”

“Of course.”

You did as he said and sat him on the balcony. Your eyes gleamed when you caught sight of the glimmering water and greenery of the setting. You’ve always known that Italy is one of the most beautiful places in the world but at that time you had forgotten and were fascinated all over again. Like when a child sees a playground for the first time.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, you nodded.

“Yes, it really is. It’s no wonder you asked me set you on here.”

“Yes... I wanted to look at one more beautiful sight before I go. Like I said earlier, my soul is no longer fit to be here, so I might as well admire my surroundings for now.”

Your mind quickly became curious after he said that. You wanted to know more behind what he meant. You weren’t going back to that car until you got answers. So to make things easy, you started off with asking his name.

“If you don’t mind... would you like to tell me your name?”

“It’s Jean. Jean Pierre Polnareff.”

‘So he’s French.’ you remember thinking, his accent wasn’t too thick but you assumed and your assumption was right. After that, you went on to tell him your name and your experiences before meeting boss Giorno Giovanna. He shared the same with you.

You talked for so long in fact that you paid off the driver of your assigned car to go back and finish his shift early, promising them that you’ll find a ride later yourself.

You ended off the chatty night with placing Jean under a nearby bench and waving at him. You were saddened but Jean said he enjoyed your company so much that he’ll try to stay for longer and that you’re welcome to come him visit him everyday.

And so you did.

For months you came by to talk to him. You were happy to see that his soul wasn’t giving up yet- you knew you would cry if it were to one day. You had come to realize that you love him but you didn’t know if he felt the same way about you. You had only seen his face once- that was the day he decided to show you the physical embodiment of his soul.

You thought (and still think) he was so beautiful. The missing of bottom limbs and blindness in one eye did not bother you at all. His white-silver hair, style and personality is what did it for you. What it did to make you fall in love with his vanity and him. Just him. Jean himself.

~A Year Later~

It’s been a year now and as per usual, you spent half your days speaking to Jean by that same lake you were ordered to drive him to.

Boss Giovanna and Mista have noticed how fast you are in missions since then. They appreciate that you get things done but they still remain curious as to why you’re more happy and less grumpy than you were before. Though they don’t bother to ask, as they’re kind and don’t want to ruin your pure joy.

Today isn’t particularly different. All you had done earlier in the day was speak to a few citizens in town and dealt with giving details to your boss about a certain drug epidemic at a school. Nothing too out of the ordinary, a situation like this occurred at your old school too years back. Your duties were basically done once you learned information got to police.

You drive down to the park where the lake is at, smiling when you see a familiar small green circle on the balcony, looking over the glimmering waters. You park in the nearest lot and lock your car after getting out. You excitedly run over to Jean and smile when he turns his little head to greet you.

“I’m glad you’ve come again.” he says with a smile.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” you reply in a genuine tone.

You go on to talk about random topics and subjects as you always do. The conversation moving onto favorite pieces of literature and genres.

You roll your eyes in embarrassment as you tell him your most favorite one- one that is a fairytale and goes by the name of “The Frog Prince.”

“Well... it’s very fem of me but I really enjoy fairytales. Especially the ones from the Grimm brothers. My favorite is actually “The Frog Prince”

You place your elbow on the rail and use a hand to cover your burning cheek. Hoping that the redness rushing to your face won’t be noticed by Jean and that the sunset covers it up. Jean only laughs and hopes to comfort you when he says,

“Oh, that’s fine. Who cares if it’s feminine? They’re very well written stories and people shouldn’t be ashamed for what they like. I admire that your favorite genre is fairytale, you don’t hear people say that as often, you know?”

His words do comfort you and you thank him for that. He welcomes you and you feel like you’re actually looking into his sapphire eyes. The ones you fell in love with so long ago. You speak up before you’re even able to fully think.

“Say, the frog prince and the princess kissing, huh? Why don’t we kiss and see if it turns you back?”

Shit.

‘Did I really just ask that?’ you ask yourself ‘What the actual hell is wrong with you?!”

“I don’t see why not...”

“Huh?”

You’re stunned. You thought he would get offended for spurting out such a stupid thing. Of course your request won’t work- that shit is from a story book. It’s pure fiction. This is real life.

He’s a turtle now and you’re a human. You can’t and you won’t kiss him. You raise your hands up in defense.

“Hey, no! No need to play along after saying something so stupid to make me feel better. I just blurted that out I’m so sorry-“

“No, it’s okay. And I’m not playing along, I’m being serious. Go ahead. I’ve grown to like you a lot, a small kiss wouldn’t hurt.”

This answer is not what you expected. You nervously fiddle with your fingers as you look around. You sigh as you give in.

“Fine. I like you a lot too and I’ll do it. Let me just-“

You lift up the top half of Jean, his front turtle legs up in the air and his little face staring up at you. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, you slowly lean in and- kiss✨

The turtle falls out of your grasp. You stop puckering your lips and open your eyes. In a panicked state, you frantically look over the balcony and both sides of you to find him. You look forward and gasp. You grab at the railings to hold you steady.

There sits a groaning man on his knees. He rubs at his neck as he silently curses to himself, blinking fast and harshly as he tries to understand what’s going on around him. It’s dark now but the moon shines bright enough for you to get a better glimpse of him. You furrow your eyebrows as you slowly recognize who he is- Jean.

He has that same white-silver hair, sapphire eyes, big stature though the only difference is no eye glass in sight and his “legs” aren’t made out of metal.. they’re completely real. Flesh and all and you know that blood flows right through them like the rest of his body.

“J-Jean?” you whisper.

The man doesn’t hear you. All he does is groan and cross his legs in front of him. He stretches his arms and looks over any possible injuries on him.

“Jean.” you say again, louder this time.

He finally looks up at you. And there they are, those sapphire eyes you love so much. That face you’ve grown to be so fond off. His expression more than surprised. Though that expression quickly changes and softens- his eyes crease and a small smile appears. He says your name. And you tear up after he does.

He attempts to get up but his legs give up on him. You sprint to his side before he falls, letting him use your shoulders as support. He blushes.

“I’m sorry... I haven’t had real legs in years. Apparently I forgot how to use them...”

His voice is softer than before, the sternness isn’t there. He sounds younger almost. You giggle, as you use a hand to wipe at the tears of your eyes.

“Okay, I think I can stand now. Let go of me so I can look at you fully.”

You do as he says and as you watch him wobble, you reach out to help again but he shakes his head, waving your hands off as he’s able to maintain balance. You grin proudly when he does.

Jean turns to face you, he clasps your hands together and brings them up to his lips. You blush as he proceeds to hold them over his heart. He looks at you with pure love in his eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. What you suggested was silly but it worked.”

“Yes, you’re welcome...” you say softly, looking down. He makes you look up again.

“You’re the one, my love. You always have been and always will be. My feelings for you started when we first met, I meant what I said. I have grown to like you a lot though it’s more than “like”- it’s love. And I’m so happy to know you feel the same way.”

You tear up at this and hug him. He hugs you back and you can’t believe that he does.

The turtle is no more and you have your true love back to human form.

He raises your chin up with his thumb and pointer, he kisses you and you kiss him back. The kiss long and meaningful.

You’re happy to know that the man you love, loves you too.

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jinx-jade · 3 years

Text

A Fairy’s protection Chapter 3

“I’m sure your wife will love them, Mr. Hade!” Marinette heard Mia, one of the young teens she had employed by Lao’s recommendation, cheer as she most likely waved goodbye to the older gentleman.

Mia was the only employee in the shop today due to it being a school day.

“It’s a wonder that she found such ‘respectful’ and ‘clean’ children to help around the shop.” Marinette heard one of the more uptight, rich snob customers comment to her friend.

Mia tensed a bit but kept her head down and continued working and helping other customers.

“She’s truly lucky. I haven’t once seen a ‘street vermin’ near this lovely flower shop.” The woman’s friend responded, causing the first woman, who Marinette has now identified as Mrs. King’s daughter, Zoe King, to laugh.

Mrs. King was one of Marinette’s regulars. She was always coming in for teas and treats, sometimes bringing her friends to gossip and snack. Marinette wasn’t too fond of some of the company Mrs. King kept but Mrs. King herself always made pleasant company.

Marinette let out a sigh and made her way to Zoe and her friend. With the way Mia's energy would tense and swirl with hurt and annoyance Marinette figured it would be best to get them to stop the insult-laced comments.

“Can I help you?” Marinette questioned the two teens in a sweet voice.

Zoe’s friend scoffed, most likely about to make a rude comment when Zoe placed a hand on her arm as if to tell her to be quiet or watch what she says.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Zoe said in a pleasant well-mannered voice vastly different from her previous gossiping voice.

The energy of Zoe’s friend was confused by the sudden change of attitude.

“Miss Zoe, I didn’t realize you walked in. Is Mrs. King here as well? If so, I can mix up a batch of teas for her.” Marinette greets, gesturing for them to follow her as she made her way back to the front counter.

Zoe followed hesitantly her head hung a little lower than her usually ‘picture-perfect’ posture. Her friend followed after Zoe curiously.

Zoe’s energy was swirling around in shame and nervousness. Her friend’s energy swirling around in annoyance and curiosity.

“Actually Miss, My mother isn’t here. I came with my friend Clare to look at the flowers and get some treats.” Zoe informed Marinette, trying to mask her nerves as she spoke.

They had already reached the front counter, Marinette turning to face Zoe and the newly dubbed Clare.

“It’s a shame that Mrs. King couldn’t come in,” Marinette said with a thoughtful expression.

“I’ll just have to give her a ring and ask what kind of tea she would like,” Marinette said, with a deciding nod. “ Oh! Mrs. King had mentioned that Mr. King was interested in the teas as well. Perhaps I could get his opinion?”

Zoe and Clare seemed to panic at that, but before either girl could stop her from calling, the phone answered, and Mrs. King’s voice rang through it with crystal clarity.

“Hello?” Mrs. King questioned.

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. King, I was wondering what teas you would like mixed up?” Marinette asked, her voice as sweet and innocent as ever.

“Oh! Miss Dupain-Cheng! My apologies, I didn’t save the shop’s number.” Mrs. King says, causing Marinette to giggle.

“There’s no need to apologize Mrs. King, and I thought I said you could call me Marinette. My last name is such a mouthful,” Marinette informs her. Mrs. King only gave a light laugh in response.

“That’s right you did.” There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Mrs. King seemed to be talking to a man, most likely Mr. King. “Sorry. It seems my husband and I have somewhere to be. Is there a reason for this call?” Mrs. King asked.

“Uhm,” Marinette lets out a hum as if trying to remember before she made eye contact with Zoe.

“Oh! I wanted to know what kind of tea you and Mr. King would like? I figured since Miss Zoe and Miss Clare were already in the shop they could bring it back for you.” Marinette said as if she had just remembered.

The other end of the phone went dead silent. When a voice filtered through the phone it was not Mrs. Kings.

“Hello, Miss Dupain-Cheng, this is Mr. King. My wife and I will be at your shop in a bit to pick out tea mixes. Could you keep an eye on my daughter and Miss Odle?” Mr. King states more than asks.

“Sorry, but I’ll have to have one of my employees keep an eye on them. Would that be acceptable?” Marinette asked, knowing that not all parents like leaving their children with strangers. Mr. King had probably only been ok with the idea of her watching Zoe and Clare due to Mrs. King already knowing her.

Mr. King sounded like he wanted to disagree or ask why she couldn’t watch the children when the King’s voices became muffled as Mrs. King spoke with her husband.

“Ehr. Uhm. My apologies, I wasn’t aware that you are missing your sight, Miss. Dupain-Cheng. A trusted employee of yours will be acceptable to watch over my daughter and Miss Odle.” Mr. King informed her.

The call ended, Zoe and Clare looking a bit pale.

“Why don’t you young ladies take a seat at one of the tables. I’ll have Mia keep an Eye on you, per Mr. King’s request,” Marinette said, handing a plate of treats to the girls.

Clare took the plate with a quick thank you and quickly moved to sit at the tables with Zoe.

“Mia,” Marinette called, raising her hand a lazily to call over the young employee.

Mia walked over to Marinette, having seen the whole scene with the King and Odle girls.

“Yes, Miss?” Mia cheered, with a smile.

“You remember Mrs. King, Yes?” Marinette questioned.

“Mrs. King is one of your regulars. The sweet lady who looks too young for what age she says?” Mia said curiously.

Marinette chuckled. “That sounds about right, her voice makes her seem young as well. Anyway, those two young ladies, one of them is Mrs. King’s daughter, the other is her friend. Mr. King wants an eye kept on them.” Mia nodded her head.

“I’ll keep an eye on them for you, Miss.” Mia cheered before disappearing towards the table.

Mrs. and Mr. King came in fifteen or so minutes later, Mrs. King directing them to the front counter when it was clear that Mr. King wanted to go towards Zoe and Clare.

Marinette had given Mr. King some tea samples to try as Mrs. King picked out the mixes she had already decided on. Once they had chosen their tea Marinette began wrapping them up. She was almost finished packing the order when they heard a scream and then aloud slap ring through the air.

Everyone in the shop’s attention turned to the table that had the young King and Odle heiresses and who appeared to be a shop employee.

The shop employee was holding her cheek with tears in her eyes, causing a clear picture to form in everyone’s heads about what had happened.

The Odle heiress seemed to have been the one to slap the employee, seeing as the King heiress was in shock, seated on the opposite side of the table.

Marinette put down the package and made her way to the table stepping in between Mia and Clare.

“Is there a reason for your assault against my employee, Miss Clare?” Marinette said in a neutral tone of voice.

A few of the adults tensed at the words Marinette used.

“This street rat spilled water all over my designer dress!” Clare huffed, still very upset.

Marinette was about to say something when Mia placed a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine Miss,” Mia claimed, removing the hand that was covering her face with a slit hiss.

The others in the store gasped in shock. Mia had a split lip with heavy bruising already appearing on her cheek.

Marinette cleared her throat getting everyone’s attention.

“If everyone could leave so I can close the shop and take this I would be very grateful,” Marinette claimed in an authoritative tone of voice. The people left the shop without much fuss.

“Mr. and Mrs. King, you are free to take Miss Zoe and leave, but I will have to ask Miss Clare to stay. If you could give me a number to contact Miss Clare’s parents or guardians that would be helpful as well.” Marinette states.

Mrs. King told Marinette Mrs. Odle’s private number. After typing it in she selected the call button.

The call itself took no more than fourteen or fifteen minutes, the Odle’s arriving half an hour later.

The perks of being in the business district Marinette guessed.

The Odle’s had only been in the shop for a minute or two when a police car parked outside the building and its driver, a man in a police uniform with black hair and blue eyes walked in.

Tag list: @Moon5608 @animegirlweeb @asrainterstellar @toodaloo-kangaroo @mystery-5-5 @casual-darkness @user00000003 @iloontjeboontje @alyssadliv @jayjayspixiepop @corporeal-terrestrial @all-mights-asscheeks @adrestar @moonlightstar64

#maribat

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mystic-deep · 3 years

Text

"Sensei said girls love swans." | Okkotsu Yuuta x fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Just a small box of chocolates, bought on a whim, gifted for no apparent reason. Or so you say.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: none, good bad advices from Gojo.

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: I'm working on three other stories with Nanami, Gojo and Toji but had to write something for best boy Yuuta. We're getting volume 0 animated! This was done at the speed of light so please forgive any errors.

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 2.29 k

Valentine’s Day was quite a surprise this year. You didn’t expect the world to just revert back to old habits so soon, but then again you understood the craving for what was once considered normal. More than a year had passed since the Shibuya incident and with Gojo Satoru finally being released from his prison, things were slowly calming down.

Two major changes came as a result of the near annihilation of Tokyo, one was that now the world was aware of the existence of curses and two was the high number of people that had awoken cursed energy. What were once empty classrooms and training grounds of the Jujutsu Tokyo High School, were now filled with first year students ready to learn from the best. Although the older generation was composed of just a handful of students, they were really the top of the Jujutsu world.

All of your senpais were impressive in their own right so all of them had gathered quite a following of first years. The most popular, by far, was Fushiguro Megumi, the one that possessed the Ten Shadows Technique of the Zen’in clan. A lethal combination of looks, power and status, or so your classmates claimed.

On the opposite end of the spectrum was the third year Okkotsu Yuuta. He was a rare sight on campus and whenever he was present he didn’t interact much with any of the first years. The first time you’ve met him was during a group mission where he was there to supervise. The curse ended up being a special grade and if Yuuta hadn’t jumped in to help you, you’d all be dead. You still remember the bitterness of your classmates when he offered his feedback. Clearly he was right on all points but he didn’t honey glazed any of his words. That incident had caused a string of nasty rumours to spread and everyone in your class began to avoid him as much as possible. You guessed no one was in a hurry to offer him any gifts today.

As for yourself, you tagged along with some of the girls from your class as they chose the best chocolates for their favourite senpais. You didn’t have anyone you really wanted to gift them to, so you bought a small box purely for selfish reasons.

You headed back to campus and as you approached the training grounds you noticed that a small crowd of students were already gathered there. In the middle of them stood Megumi whose arms could barely hold the large number of gifts he had received. The deadpan expression on his face made it clear he wasn’t enjoying the attention.

“You girls better hurry, Megumi-kun looks like he has reached his limit.”

Turning around you were greeted by Gojo who was also carrying quite an impressive quantity of Valentine’s gifts.

“Sensei is really popular.”

“Please don’t sound so surprised.”

As your little conversation went on, your friends quickly abandoned you in order to join the crowd.

“Not gonna join them?” You shook your head as your hands tighten on the handle of your backpack where your box of chocolates was hiding.

“I didn’t buy any chocolates...I mean I did buy chocolates just not for...I should probably head to class.” Feeling too ashamed to admit your selfish purchase, you hurried down the path to the main entrance before Gojo could question you further.

Just as you were about to reach your destination you suddenly noticed a figure not too far from you. Yuuta was strolling along the same path and his expression was not a happy one. Your earlier guess must have been correct judging by his slumped shoulders. Now you never truly worried yourself with his well being, but it just felt so incredibly unfair that he was marginalized like this. At the end of the day, even if he wasn’t easy to talk to, he was a responsible senpai who wouldn’t hesitate to jump in to help others when needed. With that thought in mind, you quickened your pace and called out to him.

“Okkotsu-senpai! Okkotsu-senpai, please wait!”

He stopped in his track and turned to look at you with a surprised expression.

“Y/n-chan, are you okay?”

You nodded as you caught up with him, impressed that he even bothered to remember your name, and opened your backpack to retrieve the box of chocolates.

“For you senpai, Happy Valentine’s Day!” You gave him the most sincere smile you could muster and handed him the small box. Oh well, better for your cavities you suppose.

With a trembling hand he took the small gift and grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you! I’ll treasure it!” It was just a box of cheap chocolates, you thought, definitely not worth the excitement.

“Urm I’m happy you like them. Anyway, have a good day, see you around!” You practically dashed to your classroom, cheeks red from embarrassment. You didn’t know why you were so nervous or why that silly grin of his made you so flustered.

As you sat down at your desk, you wondered if you did the right thing. You didn’t want him to believe you had feelings for him and you also hoped he didn’t think you did it out of pity. You just thought it was the right thing to do at that time and it was just a small gesture, definitely not worth a second thought.

Or so you hoped until White Day arrived and you found quite a surprising gift on your desk that morning. A large bouquet of roses, there must have been over a hundred. No note though, as if the person that had left them just expected for you to know whom they were from.

You could hear the whispers of your classmates and you shifted uncomfortably. You weren’t really popular, no reasons for someone to give you such an impressive present, so of course rumours began to spread.

As you sat on a bench during lunch break with the bouquet in your lap, you raked up your brain trying to figure out who would offer you flowers.

“Oh no, you don’t like them!”

Yuuta’s voice brought you back to reality and you blinked ever so slowly as you looked at his worried expression. Your eyes dropped to the red roses in your lap and then back to your senpai that was just a few feet away from the bench you were sitting.

“These...these are from you?” Well you did gift him that box of chocolates and this was White Day, technically he was supposed to return the gift. Still, a cheap box of bonbons couldn’t compare to the expensive bouquet that he had gifted back.

“Gojo-sensei said you’re supposed to buy something impressive in order to show your appreciation for the gift you received. I didn’t know what you liked and he suggested roses, he said all girls loved red roses.”

Of course it was Gojo Satoru, it was always Gojo Satoru.

“Senpai, thank you, but this is too much! Those chocolates weren’t really that expensive.”

“No, no, they were pretty good! I ended up eating the whole box! Gojo-sensei tried to steal one away, that didn’t end up well for him.” Good, you thought, he deserved it for unnecessarily complicating things.

“Well if you say so, then I’m happy. I’ve never received flowers before, well my father bought me a bouquet when I graduated middle school but I don’t think that counts.”

“I’ve never received chocolates before, so I guess we’re both at the beginning.” The beginning of what, you wondered, as he offered you a somewhat sly smile.

“I should get these to my room before they wither.”

“Yeah I should probably head to the training ground.” You said your respective farewells before going in opposite directions. This had been awkward to say the least and you were glad it was over.

However, naivety got the best of you. The next morning you were greeted by a large teddy bear that was placed in your seat. Your eyebrow began to twitch as you heard whispers spreading in the classroom.

“Hey is that from Okkotsu? Super creepy!”

“Yeah, poor Y/n-chan.”

“What do you mean by that?” Your patience had reached its limit and with narrowed eyes you turned to look at the girls you heard whispering.

“Don’t you know, Okkotsu curses his lovers!”

“Yeah, he becomes obsessed with them and then they die in mysterious ways!”

“That is literally the most idiotic thing I’ve heard in my life.” Sure, you knew the story of Rika, but from actual reliable sources you also knew that it was a tragic accident that happened when Yuuta was only a child. It was disturbing how they twisted the story just because they were afraid of him.

“If you have this much time to waste on spreading such stupid rumours then I suggest you channel that energy in training. Otherwise you’ll be stuck at grade 4 until the end of days.” As a grade 2 sorcerer yourself, maybe you shouldn’t have looked down on them, but for some reason the way they were acting towards Yuuta was just infuriating and you found yourself becoming quite protective.

You never snapped at them like this before, if anything you were considered quite docile, so the whole class fell silent. You grabbed the giant teddy bear from your seat and stomped towards the door, nearly bumping into Gojo as the later stepped inside the room.

“Where you going Y/n-chan? Class is about the start.”

“I’m going to find Yuuta!” You huffed and walked out of the classroom, knowing full well that you will probably get punished for your actions.

“Y/n-chan is so determined! Everyone, you should have more determination as well!” That was the last thing you heard as Gojo closed the door behind you.

You began your search for Yuuta, trying to ignore the looks that the faculty members you came across were giving you. You must have looked quite ridiculous, carrying that large teddy bear around.

You finally found him near the armoury, and judging from his sweaty appearance you guessed he had just finished training.

“Senpai!”

He looked at you, almost in a panicked way and you quickened your pace so he couldn’t make a run for it.

“Y/n-chan, what-”

“Senpai, this has to stop.” You really didn’t want to tell him your real motives from that day but you also couldn’t let this chain of gifts continue.

“That box of chocolates wasn’t initially for you. I bought it for myself, I only gave it to you because senpai looked so upset. I’m sorry that you misunderstood, it’s not pity or anything, I just thought you deserved it.” You didn’t even stop to breath, you had to let it all out and explain before you lost your nerve. “I’m really happy you liked them but I don’t deserve all these presents in return.”

You looked at him and expected to see anger or disappointment, instead you were greeted with light laughter.

“You’re really cute! Maki-san said not to tease you too much because you’re such a good girl. I guess she didn’t realize how much of a good girl you actually are.” The way he said ‘good girl’ made your heart skip a beat. It sounded almost provocative.

Within a second, he had closed the distance between the two of you and his hand reached to stroke your cheek ever so gentle. Suddenly he was there and you became hyperaware of his powerful presence. You noticed the pretty colour of his eyes, how his hand was just a bit rough and how that small smirk of his made your knees weak and your cheeks burn. You gulped and he seemed to enjoy your reaction.

“I don’t mind that the box of chocolates wasn’t for me. I’m just glad it gave me the opportunity to talk to you.” At this point you felt so bad you hoped the earth beneath you would just crack open and swallow you whole.

“Anyway, you should probably head to class before Gojo-sensei gets upset. Let me get that for you.” He reached for the teddy bear in your arms but you gripped it and pulled back.

“I would like to keep this, it’s a special gift from senpai and I’ll treasure it.” Sure this all began because of a silly box of chocolates but you were also happy that you finally got to see a glimpse of him that not many people got the chance to see. Now that you had a taste of it, you wanted more.

“Well I wasn’t planning on taking it away, just wanted to help you carry it.”

“It’s fine, the whole school saw me already so I might as well parade with it back to class.”

He studied your face for a few moments before his expression turned serious.

“Y/n-chan, do you think we could go-”

“I’d love to go on a date!”

You beat him to it but you wanted to make sure he knew, even before asking, that you really wanted to get to know him better.

“I see, I’m really happy.” His hand reached for yours and gripped it gently. It never failed to surprise you how cool and confident he looked at times and then he did a one hundred eighty and turned into this awkward and adorable mess.

“I must admit this is the first time I’ve asked someone out. I’ll be sure to ask Gojo-sensei-”

“Oh no, please promise me to never ask Gojo-sensei for advice concerning girls.” He was probably laughing like a mad man while giving Yuuta such cringe worthy ideas for your gifts.

“Oh but sensei said girls love swans and-”

“Never!”

#jujutsu kaisen #okkotsu yuuta #okkotsu yuuta x reader #gojo satoru #yuuta okkotsu

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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pillow-anime-talk · 4 years

Text

sex but in yandere style.

request: hey bab! can i have hcs nsfw for yandere!mello and !near (separated)? being yanderes changes in something?

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of jealous/rough sex, boss kink, gun play, humiliation, degradation, slutty names + semi-public sex, cock warming, oral sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, pet names

includes: female reader ft. mihael keehl & nate river {death note}

author’s note: hiiii, cutie! being a ‘yandere’ means being nice and lovely to others, then showing your true, possessive side. sometimes yandere character uses physical or verbal violence to show their feelings. they can also be very jealous, but they does it all out of love and the will to protect their loved one. i’ve already written a few things with yandere characters from ‘death note’! you can see them here; click, click & click. have a nice day/night, ily!

— MIHAEL

↘ At the beginning, sex with Mihael was really tender, calm and super lovely. Maybe it was because of your young age, and also because of your shyness, ‘cause it was your first relationship, but after a long time you could afford more in bed. Definitely more than other people.

↘ The kisses themselves were joined by strong bites or hickeys, instead of praising you, Mello was pulling your hair or spanking you on the already red, bruised ass. There were also moments where you were fucking all night long in different places in your apartment, and then you fell on the bed in your room with exhaustion, without even having the strength to take a shower or make a dinner.

↘ Mello is definitely the type who will find a good reason to have sex with you; most often the rough, jealous, consent sex, or that one special kind in which he’ll show others that you are his and only his.

↘ Someone accosted you at a party? Mihael will fuck you in the club bathroom so hard that the whole main hall will hear your screams and loud moans. Someone asked for your phone number when you were at the gallery? Definitely when you two get home, the twenty-year-old will push your body against the wall and then tell you to get down on your knees. Did you ignore him and write with your bestie on the phone? He’ll take you from behind on the carpet and call you the worst whore who doesn’t listen to him.

↘ He’s the dominant type and loves to give you orders; he likes to punishment you when you make a mistake, but he also likes when you be submissive and respectful to him.

↘ Mello is a mafioso. He has a huge as fuck kink with you call him ‘boss’ or ‘master’. He definitely wants to use it in your sex life.

↘ If you wear nice lingerie, pretty collars or thigh high socks and you’ll name him by these word(s), he will be very happy and give you the best sex ever. Maybe he will even stroke your head or bring you a little gift the next day. Who knows?

↘ If you upset him too much, Mihael will definitely use the gun to calm you down quickly and effectively. He will unlock it and attach it to your neck or temple, telling you how bad and silly you have been.

↘ Adrenaline is booming in your body like never before. He will definitely run the gun over your both collarbones, both nipples, and stomach as well.

↘ You will also cum harder when the gun barrel touches your wet sex.

↘ He loves to humiliate you during sex or sexual activities and portray you as a person who wouldn’t be able to life without him. Mello loves calling you his ‘fuckdoll’ or ‘cockslut’. Your cheeks are always flushed when he talks to you like this. Maybe it’s degrading, but you love it anyway.

↘ He’s not good at aftercare, but he’ll probably give you a towel or a wet handkerchief so you can wipe your face from his cum or your thighs wet from your own orgasm. But don’t feel that he will do something more. It’s not his style.

— NATE

↘ Sex with Nate was, is and definitely will always be calm and affectionate. Both of you don’t like to rush and tire. However, making love for him is a form of reward and fun. It’s a canon that he’s a big brat and likes to tease you when the situation is right for it.

↘ I mean, even if you do deserve something, you don’t have to get it, yeah? Near is the one who decides if you get his dick, fingers or tongue or not. You have nothing to say here.

↘ As for teasing and upsetting you; he loves to do it in public.

↘ For example: when you are on a date in a cafe, when his subordinates are around, when you talk with family or friends on the phone and talk about your day or plans for the next weeks.

↘ Nate will touch your smooth hand, your thigh, kiss your ear, maybe even bite it lightly with his teeth. When you ignore it or turn away from him, he’ll do more to get your attention.

↘ For another example, he will pull your hand and you will land on his warm lap.

↘ You won’t even notice the moment when his cock will rub against your pulsating hole. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a coffee shop, if Gevanni or Lidner are in front of his desk, or that you’re talking to your mother about a recipe for a pear pie. It absolutely doesn’t matter because Nate is just going inside you very deeply, touching a sensitive g-spot which causes a low groan from you.

↘ Aside from public or semi-public sex, Near loves to tease you in many other ways.

↘ I mean, refusing you to orgasm or giving you too much of them; it depends on his mood and day.

↘ If he’s denial you to have an orgasm, you definitely said something stupid or did something that made his work longer. During sex or fingering, he will ask you some questions or statements like, ‘Are you sure that you deserved it?’, ‘But you were bad for me, do you really think that you can cum?’ or ‘Give me one reason why I should let you cum.’. He’s so mean and insensitive when he’s upset... It’s a hecking pain.

↘ However, if you’ve been good and he has a good day/evening, he will eat you out as if he hasn’t eaten anything for the last two years. His tongue penetrates your tight walls so well, explores your soft skin, matches with your own tongue. He’s a great giver.

↘ But she also likes to receive. After all, there’s nothing better than giving him a blowjob under his desk while he’s doing important business over the phone or sends e-mail to other task forces. He’ll lightly grab your hair or squeeze your cheek saying how sweet and beautiful you are with his cock in your mouth or hands.

↘ He gives you cute nicknames like ‘my baby’, ‘my pure kitten’ or ‘my lovely facedoll’. You also like to praise him (another canon, wbk), but he does it more often because you are sometimes unable to say a single word.

↘ He doesn’t really understand the idea of aftercare, but from time to time he will suggest you a bath or shower with him. You will definitely appreciate it and repay with a back massage or cooking something tasty for the next day.

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frogtanii · 4 years

Text

hq boys as the crimes they’d commit

warnings: CRIMES, crackfic, probably many typos idk i’m so tired lmaooo, cursing, drinking ??? idfk 😩💦

an: and i did this for what?? inspired by hq hcs royalty @sugardaddykenma @hina-wit-da-glock (AJSKSJ SORRY FOR TAGGING Y’ALL IF YOU SEE THIS, IT IS DEF NOT UP TO PAR W Y’ALLS WORKS ILY)

karasuno

sawamura daichi- insurance fraud!! somehow this is such a dad crime to commit?? dadchi didn’t try (dumb excuse, how do you accidentally commit insurance fraud smh) to commit insurance fraud but at one point in his late-thirties, he was very very broke and was already working as much as possible so, he decided to fake an ankle injury, as you do, and filed a bunch of claims which made him bank. daichi kept doing it until he was able to quit one of his jobs and buy himself a really nice suit and a rolex (uhhh 🥵). he somehow never got caught tho and to this day, none of his friends know how he was able to afford a tesla on a cop’s salary (sorry daichi but acab 😔✨)

sugawara kōshi- child abandonment!! ok you can try and fight me on this but i feel in my bones that suga absolutely despises children. he can tolerate ages 10+ but anything younger than that, he will punt them into the next dimension. the thing is, people just assume he likes kids because of how good he is with his team which is why his aunt begged him to babysit his nephew taro. taro was being an absolute brat when suga took him out for the day and he was 👉👈 this close to snapping. he put taro down for like 3 seconds to pay for their ice cream and when he turned back, the demon spawn was gone. he panicked, running around the park looking for taro when it turns out, taro was just bent down behind the bench. some random karen called the police and suga has never craved murder more.

nishinoya yuu- arson!! you CANNOT tell me nishinoya doesn’t have a ~murder~ playlist that he listens to to get himself hype (me too noya, me too). one night, he got a lil too hype listening to start a riot by duckwrth and watching demolition videos on youtube. he snuck out of his house to an empty shed like 30 minutes away and maybe... lit it on fire while genocide by lil darkie played on a speaker nearby. what he did NOT anticipate was the absolute size of the fire so he freaked out and called the firefighters who promptly called the police. he didn’t want to get grounded so he called daichi to bail him out. daichi still told noya’s parents 😔.

tanaka ryūnosuke- vandalism!! tanaka had been on alt tiktok and saw a group of cool friends spray painting an abandoned building. he thought “that’s cool, lemme do that!” but then he realized he had no friends (AHDGS JK I LOVE TANAKA). he asked nishinoya who was grounded from the arson incident and he knew he definitely couldn’t ask daichi, suga, asahi, or enoshita so he decided to go it alone. that proved to be a MASSIVE mistake. he got the supplies, arrived to the building of his choice (thanks saeko :3), and decided to spray paint a huge p3ni5 in bright red paint. he finished “successfully” and zoomed back home. what he didn’t realize with his two-and-a-half braincells is that he signed his glorious piece with his full name. the cops were at his house the next morning...🧍

hinata shoyō- forgery!! hinata did NOT think that forgery was even a crime. how was he supposed to know that he wasn’t allowed to copy his mom’s signature on a permission form! all he wanted was to go to an overnight training camp 😿

kageyama tobio- attempted murder!! kageyama swears it sounds worse than was and he is absolutely incorrect. what happened was so much worse. he and hinata were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater (you can’t tell me they haven’t done some dumbass shit like this) and kageyma lost almost instantly (he has the tiny lungs of an asthmatic). he didn’t want hinata to notice so he held hinata’s head under the water for like 10 seconds. suga walked in though, saw hinata thrashing around in the water and immediately called the police. kageyama never forgave him.

tsukishima kei- cyberbullying!! first of all, i had no idea you could get arrested for cyber bullying!? that being said, neither did tsukishima who spent 80% of his time making fun of people online (and on his real account!! bold). eventually one of the people he bullied (hinata) reported him on instagram and his very lame account was deleted (pls don’t bully people online 😤).

yamaguchi tadashi- shoplifting!! andjksh this is so funny because this scenario has happened to me and i can just SEE this happening to poor tadashi. yamaguchi gets super late night cravings (and usually tsukki will walk with him at like 3 am 🥺 nEWAYS) so he’ll sneak out and walk to the mini-mart near his house. one night, he was so tired but also super hungry so he went onto his nightly routine and basically sleepwalked into the store. he picked out his favorite chips and candy bar (which are sour cream&onion lays and milky ways in case you were wondering 😌✨) and just... walked out the store without paying. the store clerk was mysteriously missing so yamaguchi made it all the way home, ate half the bag of chips and passed out without realizing what he’d done. once he did, he cried for 2 hours straight.

nekoma

kuroo tetsurō- telemarketing fraud!! kuroo originally did telemarketing fraud as a joke?? like he was trying to prank call someone pretending that they had lost their information and they actually gave it to him??? he was mildly concerned but even more excited. he did it over and over again but he never used the info for anything. to this day, kuroo literally has a notebook full of credit card numbers and bank account passwords but he refuses to use it because he believes it’s ✨wrong✨(but it isn’t wrong to take all that information in the first place under false pretenses, not realizing that once people find out, they are forced to close credit cards and accounts but go off self righteous king). once he brought the book up to kenma and he offered to sell it on the dark web. now kuroo feels less bad about what he’s done! :D

kozume kenma- computer crime!! pfttt this one seems kinda obvious but what do you expect from kenma :). he spends so much time on the internet, he’s definitely picked up some less than legal skills that still help him now 👀. kenma did little mini crimes like getting into other people’s wifi but his crowning achievement was when he hacked into the minneapolis pd website and had it so when you opened the page, a black lives matter screen came up. he never told anyone that it was him who did it but he thinks it’s the best he’s ever done.

yaku morisuke- racketeering!! yaku, the feral king, ran an underground gambling ring in the basement of nekoma (do they have basements?? who knows! i don’t!) during his third year. the only reason it didn’t get shut down was because coach nekomata took a portion of yaku’s profits whenever he won (which was literally all the time). everyone on the team has lost money to him which is why they never play with him anymore. they won’t even let yaku play monopoly 😔.

haiba lev- indecent exposure!! poor lev’s head is so empty, he tends to fall for whatever pranks his senpai’s do to him. this time kuroo had somehow convinced him that in order to grow his schlong, he had to run outside naked for 10 minutes because the moonlight had special growing properties. lev was a lil scared ngl because he was already superrr tall and didn’t need to grow his height (or his dick ((boy is hung)) but poor lev is insecure) but he did it anyway. long story short, an old woman saw him parading around the neighborhood naked and called el policia. 0/10 dick did NOT grow and had to spend a night in jail naked 😿

aoba johsai

oikawa tōru- prostitution!! KAKKAKA iwazumi made fun of oikawa for being so shitty and said that he couldn’t pick up anyone if he tried. flattykawa took this as a personal challenge and went out onto the street, asking people if they’d have sex with him. with the way he was asking (and the way he was dressed), people assumed he was a paid w h o r e and someone eventually reported him. iwazumi had to pick oikawa up from the station- he never let him live this one down.

iwaizumi hajime- battery!! it wasn’t technically battery but oikawa is a lil bitch and overreacts (at least in his words -_-). the amount of times iwa-chan has beat the absolute shit out of oikawa is uNREAL. he just can’t handle the stupidity sometimes so he just smacks the crap outta him. not for real for real but the way oikawa reacts, you’d think a murder was occurring. one time, shittykawa screeched so loud, they got a noise complaint -_- hajime hates it in these streets.

matsukawa issei & hanamaki takahiro- conspiracy!! issei and hiro have a secret blog where they discuss conspiracy theories and such but one day, hiro found an article that explained how jfk’s death was an inside job. he sent it to issei who began to theorize how HE’D do it. that devolved into a massive thread on their blog of how’d they murder a president which blew up and caught the attention of the cia who sent the a letter telling them to quietly delete the blog. they did because they were terrified but they kept the letter and now it’s framed in issei’s apartment.

kyōtani kentarō- assault!! baby is an angry little boy but for all the right reasons. he was at a bar (when he’s all grown up, duh) and he spotted an absolute drunk creep hitting on a girl who clearlyyyy did not reciprocate his feelings. kyōtani, being the respectful king that he is, went over to the guy, pulled him by the jacket and beat. the. shit. out of him. while the bartender was happy with the fact that the creep was out, he was not impressed with the damage to his bar. he just sent kyōtani out who casually adjusted his leather jacket and rings, and hopped on his motorcycle to ride away into the night. i am the FATTEST simp for this man ONG 🥴

shiratorizawa

ushijima wakatoshi- stalking!! poor ushijima has no idea how intimidating he can be. he was on a train late at night after practice and the woman sitting across from him left her purse sitting on the seat. being the gentleman that he is, he took the purse and followed her to return it. the only problem is that the closer he got, the faster she ran and when he tried to speak (yknow with his scary, deep, baritone voice), the woman screeched and called the cops on him because he was a “strange, big man who was following her home.” when the police showed up, ushijima was painfully confused and just held up this tiny ass purse in his massive hands. the cops laughed.

tendō satori- ???!! no one knows what crimes (or how many 😳) tendō has committed but each of his teammates have different ideas- ushijima: “i don’t believe tendou is capable of committing any sort of felony. well, maybe murder”; semi: “of COURSE he’s capable of crimes??! do you know how many times i’ve seen him come into the dorm with a suspicious stain of red on his sweater?? *shudders* if i end up dead, tendō did it...” in actuality, the only crime tendō has committed is ~drugs~ but he’s not bouta tell his friends that.

goshiki tsutomu- would be a VICTIM!! my baby tsutomu would NEVER commit a crime!!! i love this man with my everything and the only crime he’s committed is being too damn cute 😤🥺

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

I Want To Hear You Say It

Chapter 3: Claw Marks

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: Listening to the FNAF timeline and thinking about that tiktok

Prev.

He dreads going to the hideout. He doesn’t want to think about what he's going to say, what excuse he’s going to make up that will keep everyone satisfied with his answer. The correct thing to have done on the journey home would have been to make up a believable lie but without the safety of numbers and the area that he was in- he had to focus on not getting caught- his mind too preoccupied with his surroundings to actually have time to think.

His steps are heavy, short breaths that fill his lungs and leave in puffs, bones aching and he finds himself nearing the building. Dark in color, weeds sprouting from the edges, the color of the building, once something deep and polished, is now faded and dirtied with random tagging symbols that have long been washed out by the weather. He stands at the door, sky clouded overhead and a light mist that falls onto him and makes him uncomfortably wet. His stomach is full with chicken that you bought and shared with him. The hideout is dark, the windows boarded up and he can’t hear a sound coming from inside. No screaming, arguing, music, or singing. Tomura stands outside a hidden door and he takes in a deep breath, cold air chilling at his throat and making his mouth dry.

He walks inside; the door creaking as it announces his arrival to anyone who is willing to listen. His eyes scan around the old room, the floor solid underneath as he takes careful steps, hands poised and a deep unsettlement that settles in his bones as the stillness seems to place everything inside on pause. His mouth opens, his tongue coming out to lap at his lips, a passing thought flashes by that he should call someone’s name but as quick as it came, he denounces it just as quickly. He won’t risk calling someone’s name- someone could be listening in, the hideout could be abandoned and still wiretapped in case any wandering heroes had gotten lucky- no, he’ll walk around and assess.

He takes a careful step forward and then the room is bathed in a yellow light. His shadow stretches and distorts, elongating and he feels bare, his face naked and cold, immediately, placing his hand over himself in a mock attempt to mimic Father. His eyes snap up, hand already reaching forward with every intent to rid the possible threat until he lands on sun colored eyes.

“Tomura-kun!” Toga says especially, her smile wide and a slight skip to her step as she walks towards him. “You are alive!” The way she says it makes it sound as if there were doubts. “Took you long enough to get back, huh?” Her smile is almost teasing as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

He gives her a disgruntled look, eyes narrowed and wants to snap a response towards her. His eyes meet hers where she does not falter, smiling sweetly at him with a certain glint in her eyes. “Where are the others?”

Her smile falters, a hand at her side fisting at the loose material of her joggers. The hem of an oversized sweater spilling past the waistband of the joggers. “Sleeping,” she says with a tight voice and under the light he realizes that her arm is dusted in a purple bruise, dark in color as it spills to blue with a hint of sickly yellow. “Where were you?”

He eyes the bruise, a scowl on his lips as he meets her gaze yet again. “Nowhere important.” Words get stuck in his throat, the bruise dancing in his peripherals, filling his mind with other unseen possible injuries. Her face is clean, free of any marks as she stands in front of him. She can stand; Toga is still standing in front of him. “The mission?” His nails dig into his skin, pulling at the old scars that have long closed up.

Her smile falls and he finds annoyance lapping at him. She shrugs, her hands spreading wide as she looks at him and her shadow dances along with her. “Went as planned. We were able to find a new location in case this one goes south but we did run into trouble while transporting the items.”

“Trouble?” He takes a step towards her, eyes glancing behind her trying to find wandering movement that lies in the shadows.

“Spinner hit his head pretty hard so for now he’s resting. Twice went to find Giran so he can bring in some type of aid or something-” she waves her hand in a tired circle- “I didn’t really pay attention,” she finishes, her smile returning. “Anyways, now that you’re here, I’m going back to bed.” She turns on her heels, her hand coming up to cover her yawning mouth. She pauses as she steps to the other side of the entrance to the hallway. “Oh, by the way,” amusement has left her face, a thin smile on her lips that doesn’t reach her eyes, “your hands on your bed. You must have dropped them when we split.”

He stands in the empty room, eyes growing heavy and anxiety grabbing at his insides. His collar is too close to his neck, wrapping around the base in a tight hold that makes it impossible to swallow, acid riising and leaving a tart taste on his tongue, heavy and sickening. “Thank you,” he whispers to an empty room with eyes glued where Toga stood just a minute ago. His hand spills from his face and falls beside him in a limp.

The doors that line the hallway and spill onto different ends are all closed, subtle chipped marks carved into the wood to indicate which rooms are occupied. His hair still smells of your shampoo, light and sweet. His clothes reek of what you used to wash them. His hand forms into a fist as he thinks about you. It’s a fleeting thought that he latches onto and soon enough he isn’t able to escape you from entering his mind. His hand wraps around the doorknob with a pinky raised as it twists under his palm. He enters his room as you enter his mind. True to her word, his hands are displayed on his bed, laid in an orderly fashion.

He stands at the edge of the bed, eyes lidded as he stares at the hands. Slowly, he grabs each hand, one by one, each placed back at their respective spots, a heavy weight that falls on him with each addition, a tight grasp that holds onto him with a promise to pull him down and suffocate him, the promise of false love and a mock hug as hands encase him. The last hand that goes on his face is held tenderly, the palm facing towards his face, an open strike that is welcomed and makes him feel calm, settling his nerves for just a moment. The hand is cold and heavy against his warm skin. The thick cartilage is tough- sturdy and unwavering- his fingertips flutter against the raised bridges, lowering until it reaches the metal end.

His hands are nothing like your hands.

He can almost feel your touch. It was light and fluttery, soft against his face. You held him with care, trying to calm him down when the first thing he had done to you was pin you down. You were nice to him. You told him that you had done it because you wanted to believe that you were a good person. His hand tremors, sliding past the metallic end, a light brush against his chest that stills as it reaches his stomach, clenching at the shirt with a careful grip, twisting the fabric in his hand. You quite literally picked him off the streets and gave him a temporary home. You gave him kindness that he hasn’t witnessed or felt in so long. You were kind to him- doting over him and making sure that he was fed. You washed his clothes and had calmed him down when he feared that he had lost his hands. Your hands held him together, grabbing at him and pulling him close to you. He sucks in his bottom lip, remembering the pull of your thumbs against his chin, the touch that you gave him that didn’t fill him with sickness.

He misses your touch. There’s a deep tug in his body. It pulls at him, tugging against his very essence and making him feel stretched out. His chest stutters, rising and dipping with lungs that expand and a heavy flush that warms his body. His eyes go wide, pupils dilating as he leans over, hand leaving his stomach and resting on the bed in a closed fist, the pads of the fingers dig on the top of his head, clenching as they squeeze his head with a painful grip.

He doesn’t need this right now. He doesn’t need you invading his mind. He can’t handle the thoughts and feelings that come with you. The need to see you. The need to have your hands replace the ones on his neck. He’s breathing heavy, wheezing over the bed, mouth gaping under the palm of Father, his heart erratic and mind wandering. He’s never felt like this before. He’s never had emotions this strong. The desire to see you is stronger than anything he’s ever faced- stronger than anything he remembers. He’s gasping for air, eyes watering and he stands straight, a hand placed along his neck as his nails etch themselves against him, sin bleeding out, hot and thick against his skin.

The sun is setting, casting a soft orange glow across the city as you walk home. It’s quiet, your phone buzzing in your hand and merely swipe at the notification for the Discord chat that you’re part of but never engage in. The time reads back to you and you come to a slow, walking towards the edge of the building, standing against the corner with eyes trained on the time.

You wouldn't call yourself overly paranoid. Sure, you've heard things that go bump in the night and hid yourself under the covers rather than go and investigate, you've slept with rather odd, sharp objects under your pillow and have practiced time and time again how quickly and quietly you can reach into your bedside drawer and pull out a pair of scissors. But that was in the past. You've grown past the need to hone your skills and now all you have for protection is an old stuffed bear with stuffing that has gone limp and dull.

You stand at the edge of the alleyway, taking a few steps into the dampen area, clicking your tongue as you step into a puddle. There’s a deep feeling that washes over you, making you chew on your bottom lip and edge deeper into the growing dark area. You take a small step to the side, your head tilting as you search for any shapes that are too humanlike, looking for anything with soft, blue hair or a hint at it and with a final step, your phone buzzes your hand. It’s stronger- a phone call, you realize. Snapped out of whatever trance you had, you turn around and make your way out of the alley, frowning as the words “Scam Likely” is written on your phone. You click and pull at the red phone symbol, the call ceasing immediately and you walk in a crowded street.

Perhaps you should have given Tomura your phone number. Or had offered him a ride or insisted that he stay for another night. He didn’t seem well enough to leave- much leave the way that he did. You purse your lips, your pace increasing as you walk home, your bag patting lightly against your back. If you had at least given him your number then he could have called you or sent you a message indicating that he was home or at least safe. You let out a sigh, your lips pulling into a thin line.

The trek to your apartment is short, your hands resting along the rail as you climb the steps, unable to stray from the memories of when you had to help carry him up the steps. He had only rested for a day- if you wanted to be generous- and had eaten only two meals and slept on a couch. He couldn’t have possibly been comfortable. Maybe if you had insisted that he stay another night then you could tell if he had been lying about any hidden injuries. But there was no dried blood when you checked the shower, no stain that had caught against the porcelain or carpet- it was clean. You fret over a stranger- the only facts that you know of are that his name is Tomura, he works in a bar, and he’s socially inept. You check the time on your phone- there could be a possibility that you can pass by the same area and see if he’s there or any trace of him- but no. You grimace at thought- it sounds too stalkerish, as if you’re waiting for him to arrive and if he is there by any chance, you don’t want him to feel bothered or- You gasp as you bump shoulders with someone, stumbling a bit and you're grateful you’re on a flat surface rather than the stairs.

“Oh my goodness!” You raise your shoulders, pulling them close to you. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking-”

“Hey, hey,” the person says in a calming voice and you close your mouth, stepping away as your neighbor comes into view. “It’s cool, don’t worry about it.” He stands tall in front of you, a soft purple hue of skin that darkens slightly at the tip of his ears. Spiky hair that jets out in multiple directions, a dark blue that almost shines blue and purple under the light covers his forehead in wispy bangs with two curled, ram-like horns that protrude from the side of his head, dark in color with silver highlights. “I wasn’t looking either-” they laugh, sending you a friendly grin that is quickly overwritten with concern- “Are you okay?”

“Oh, er, yeah. No, I'm fine. Sorry about bumping into you again-” you step to the side, already waving a goodbye- “I’ll-”

“Wait!” He says in a rushed tone, spinning on his heels to look at you, a nervous chuckle spilling past his lips. “I, uh- Ha, sorry. So uh, did your friend go home?” He jerks his head to your door, eyes shifting nervously.

You blink at him, the moments with Tomura briefly forgotten as you strike conversation with your neighbor. “Oh, yeah. He went home last night,” you trail, the word “home” not feeling correct on your tongue.

“Oh, really?” I uh- didn’t see him.” His smile is tense and his eyes widen. “Not that I was spying or anything. I had to pick something up from the pharmacy late last night and I noticed-”

“No, yeah. He left.” You give him a tight smile and edge backwards. “Listen, I have to go and put... something away.” You give him a final grin, toothy and forced. “Bye!” You wave a goodbye at him and promptly hurry to your door where you- thankfully- have no trouble opening it.

You shut the door, your back against the wooden frame, your eyes drooping and you slide slowly to the floor, bringing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on the spot that you have created. Your bag presses uncomfortably into your back, the items inside pressing into the faux leather and into your soft back.

You close your eyes, trying to hear the sounds of wandering steps, mouth pulling into a thin line, and brows knitting together. “Maybe I should have asked him if he saw him anywhere,” you mumble under your breath. You let out a bitter laugh, raising your head and resting it against the door with a faint thud. “Great,” you whisper to yourself, “now I’m thinking about him.” You exhale, letting your eyes close with a weak smile stretching across your lips. “Well,” you trail, slowly opening your eyes, “it’s out of my hands now. Best I can hope for is that he’s home safe.” You push yourself off the floor, wincing slightly at the movement.

You flutter around the apartment, changing out of your uniform into something more comfortable, your hands aching and body accepting the weariness that it possesses. Your sock clad feet walk around the apartment, phone in hand, as you walk into the kitchen.

It’s a decent size, enough for things to be ordered in a way that makes it feel both cluttered and homely. The fridge is decorated in an assortment of magnets- new with vibrant colors and cute designs, old and faded, simple in design but something from long ago- pictures and various numbers and business cards placed on the surface. You open the fridge, food and ingredients inside but it’s too much work to actually prepare the food itself and wait for things to defrost. You close the fridge with a huff and make your way to the living room.

You stand at the edge of your couch, the blanket that Tomura used is folded at the end of the couch. Your brows knit, a frown tugging on the corner of your lips. You sigh sadly and there’s a bitter taste on your tongue, thick and heavy, and you scrunch your face. In your hand, your phone gives a curt buzz- a message from your friends. Your mood brightens and you sit on the opposite end of the couch, away from the blanket, and curl up at the end, eagerly responding to your friends' plethora of messages that you had missed- and partly purposely ignored due to heavy thoughts- on your walk home.

You sleep on the couch, covered by a throw blanket, a deep blue color that covers your frame as you curl under, a stuffed animal in your grip with shiny black eyes that reflect the television, an assortment of colors played against the room, and reflecting in the eyes of your comfort object. You sleep soundly, undisturbed and protected by glass, watched and protected by a pair of crimson eyes, between the blinds. Tomura Shigaraki sits with his knees pulled up to his chest, thin scratches around his neck and a burning desire in his chest to reach forward and accept your generosity that you had given him.

He’s confused on why he’s here. He's out in the open, Father on his face which would surely give away his identity- could that be why you didn’t recognize him, he wonders- and he’s outside like a stray animal, waiting by your door and watching you sleep. Maybe that’s why he’s back. You didn’t fear him and while fear is something that he really does long for, something that so undeniably means you have the upperhand in something, it was different this time. You sat near him, did his laundry for him and cared for him on the pretense that you wanted to be a good person. That’s almost laughable, really. You treated a literal villain as some wounded puppy and practically saved his life. Heck, if it was anyone else or maybe if you had decided to watch the news more often, he would’ve been found out and captured. You wanted to be a good person and because of that, you are good to him.

It’s fascination more than anything. This odd sense of longing towards you, the way that your hands felt on him and how you fretted over him as he panicked- he places his hand over Father and lets out a breath. The air cool, nipping at him with a slight shiver, and he looks inside with blank eyes, remembering how it felt to be inside, the candy scented candle that filled the room and how overtly sweet it was when he woke up. You were nice to him, there didn’t seem to be a hero in sight, so the probability of you being watched over is fairly low- you were nice to him and you trusted him enough to know where you lived. His leg tremors, eyes narrowing through the gaps of the fingers on his face as he stares at your unmoving frame. His hand flutters against the glass, index resting followed by the other three, and his prints are left.

Your blinds are left open and he snorts at your lack of self-preservation. He can let it slide since your little home isn’t somewhere where people can easily see. But here you are, covered by a blanket that he hadn’t used- the one he touched remains folded at the end, untouched and your legs pulled away from it. He watches you for a long time, his phone buzzing with either notifications from his mobile games or those from the League. If he were to be frank, he finds it all so difficult. He’ll complete and fulfill his vision, he’ll lead his comrades into victory, But for now, he'll rest against your balcony, and watch you sleep.

taglist:

@dillybuggg @gladiatorandroid

#shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura headcanons #bnha shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki imagines #yandere tomura shigaraki #slight #sorry for the shortish chapter #thoughts ran out #bye #love you #drink water babes

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