#couldn’t decide which version i liked best so here’s all three

[dorotheataylor]

Back to December

Pairing- Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

Summary- You broke up with him because you thought he deserved someone better than you. But here you stand, outside his door, apologising for that night, after realising you loved him too much to let him go. Based on Back to December (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.

Warnings- angstttt but fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, no curses!au, swearing (maybe), slight ooc suguru (hes called clumsy hehe), probably my english lol.

Word count- 2.3k (excluding lyrics)

A/N- atp yall just know how much big of a swiftie I am lol. So here’s a new fic based on another taylor song haha. And from now on I will write for JJK fandom too coz i’m obsessed lmao. Let me know if you find any mistakes coz this isn’t proofread and hope y’all enjoy.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You knocked three times on the door of the house you knew all too well as you picked your nails.

Will he want to see you? Will he shout at you? Will he tell you to get lost? Whatever he does, you knew you deserved it.

You stood outside his door impatiently, nerves getting the best of you while you waited for him to open the door. You could hear things falling down from behind it.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always the clumsy one. One of his things which you missed too much. Your eyes fell on thought of this. Oh how much you wished for a change in your mind back then.

You heard the lock of the door being undone and you started to freak out from inside. Was it a good idea to come here? Maybe. You were about to find out.

“Sorry for the delay. I was caught up-” You heard his voice quiet down when he saw you. God how much you missed his voice. You could listen to his voice every second of the day if possible.

You’ve been good, busier than ever

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in your presence on his doorstep, as if he was making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

The way he said your name, ached your heart. Because it wasn’t filled with love or warmth as before, instead it was more like recognising a stranger.

You took a deep breath before speaking, “long time no see, Suguru.” You smiled slightly.

He couldn’t believe it. He never thought he’d ever see you again after that unfaithful night. The wishes he made to see you every night before he went to bed actually came true. He could actually hear your voice after whole six months. He felt like he was about to cry.

Your guard is up and I know why

All he wanted to do at this moment was to take you in his arms and never let you go again. But he knew he couldn’t. What if you were here to make things even more awful than they already were? He couldn’t handle another heartbreak. So he stood his ground and decided to talk to you in a civil way.

“Come inside. It’ll start s-snowing soon.” He said, mentally cursing himself for stammering as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Thank you.” You muttered before entering his house. The familiar feeling came back to you. The aura and memories of his house, where you had spent countless nights together crashed into your mind like ocean waves. It was overwhelming and you did your best not to burst into tears.

“I’ll bring you something to drink. You can make yourself comfortable till then.” You heard him speak as he quickly walked into the kitchen.

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You knew he was doing his best to avoid a more than casual conversation with you. Because the last time you had talked, things turned bitter.

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

You still remembered that day like the back of your hand. He had showed up at your house with roses to surprise you and take you out on a surprise date. And you, being a stupid person, ruined it all.

“Here. I didn’t have anything else except for hot chocolate plus I know how much you love it.” He said handing you the cup filled with hot chocolate, his voice becoming a soft mutter at the last part.

‘He still remembers my likes and dislikes.’ You thought as you smiled softly at him and took the cup, your hands brushing a little. Your cheeks immediately turn red as you tried to hide them, while Suguru thanked the gods that his red cheeks won’t be obvious because it’s winter.

I’d go back to December, turn around and make it all right

But you knew him. You were slightly relieved you still had some effects on him like before. How much you regretted leaving him like that. If only you could go back time and make things right.

You took a sip of your hot chocolate before speaking, “thanks for the hot chocolate, Suguru.”

Geto thought he’d just die right now. The way you said his name, it made him want to forget everything that happened and just hold you into his arms, never letting you go again. But he knew he couldn’t do that.

After some long moments of silence, you decided to break it and said, “how have you been, Suguru?”

“I’ve been- good.” He said with a pause in between. He was lying, but he didn’t want you to know his mental state ever since you had left. “What about you?”

You couldn’t repeat his answer for this question, because you knew it was far from the truth. You couldn’t quite recall the last time you slept peacefully. Maybe it was when you were in Suguru’s arms, safe and loved.

Staying up playing back myself leaving

Your mind replayed memories of that unfaithful night, as if trying to torture you for what you had done. It had started to hurt physically. How much you just wanted apologise and hold him into your arms. But you knew you had lost that right. Why? Because of your stupid insecurities.

You had been in a few relationships in the past apart from Geto. And you were always called out for every little thing you did. Whether it was from the way you ate, or the way you talked, they’d make sure to remind you that you weren’t enough and weird, until they all left you alone. This lead you to believe the same, that you were the problem.

That was until you met Suguru. He was everything you could ask in a man. He was charming, a true gentleman, kind and caring boyfriend who never failed to remind you how much you mean to him.

And I think about Summer, all the beautiful times

You often daydreamed about all your memories from your relationship, from sneaking out at night to late night car drives, from celebrating each other’s birthdays to forgetting plans you’d made with your other friends. Your relationship with him was something you read in books about.

You still remembered the day when you realised that he was the guy you were going to marry someday. You had overheard him talking to Gojo about you. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but when he mentioned your name, your ears had perked up. And the way be kept on talking about how amazing you were and how much he loved you, you knew he was the one for you.

Then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept right into my mind

But of course you had to ruin it all. The ‘what if’ thoughts came back to you. The thought of losing him because you weren’t good enough for him, scared you. You had told him about your past relationships, and he always reminded you that you are more than enough for him and he loves you with all of his heart.

Fuck your stupid negativity. You tried to believe him, you really did. But your mind wouldn’t let you. So it lead you to the one thing which you knew you were going to regret for the rest of your life. You let him go. And you hated yourself for it.

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

You still remembered the way his face had immediately fallen the moment you spoke those words. He had tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. And you had slammed the door shut on his face.

Geto didn’t stop bombarding your phone with countless texts and missed calls for days. But you didn’t reply to any of them. Until one day he stopped. Maybe he realised that he was just wasting time being after you. Maybe he realised that you were the problem after all.

It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

Wishing I’d realised what I had when you were mine

You thought you had did the right thing but turns out, you didn’t. You had only made things worse for both of you. Because you know what they say, you only realise the value of something when its gone. And it turns out that you had loved him too much. You couldn’t let him go. Because you had realised that he was too precious for you to let go and you couldn’t survive without him.

So here you were, six months later, on his couch, drinking hot chocolate. You slowly came out of your thoughts and said the only thing which came into your mind, “I’m sorry.”

To say Geto was surprised was an understanding. He expected anything but an apology from you tonight. Blame him for being conscious and hurt. He didn’t say anything, giving the cue to continue.

“I’m so sorry, Suguru.” You started, trying your best not to sob, “I know this is probably the last thing you expect from me and won’t believe me but I mean it. I’m really sorry. I’m such a fucked up person, who always makes things worse, ruins perfectly going on lives of people, who always lives in self-doubts.”

“Y/N, I-”, Geto started to say something but you cut him off before he could say it.

“Please let me finish.” Geto nodded in response.

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me so right

And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry

“I miss everything about you, about us. I miss how every morning you didn’t fail to wish me ‘good morning’, I miss how you never forgot to check up on me, I miss how you always found a way to make me feel special. I miss how you always held me close to you whenever I didn’t feel like myself. And most of all, I miss the way you used to love me.” You said, tears now falling uncontrollably from your eyes but you don’t care, determined to make things right.

I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t

So you continued, “thing is that I love you, Suguru Geto. And I love you too much to let you go. I made a stupid move by letting you go when all I wanted to do was hold you into my arms. And I hate myself for it. These past six months, I’ve been terrible. There’s not been a single day where I have not wished for myself to be somehow able to go back in time and make things right, stop myself from leaving. But I know I can’t.” You took a deep breath.

So if the chain is on your door I understand

“I know my actions are not something to be easily forgiven, but I promise to do anything to win your trust and love back. I’m willing to change. I’m willing to make things up with you. I swear that if you take me back again, I will love you right and never let you go. Because I have realised my life is nothing if you’re not in it. Please take me back, Suguru. I promise to prove myself worthy of your love.” You couldn’t speak anything after this, sobs continuously escaping your mouth.

Geto stood there, tears in his eyes as well, contemplating what to say. Your apology had caught him off guard, but he knew you had meant every word. He knew that his life was incomplete without you too.

But this is me swallowing my pride

You didn’t hear him speak for a good few minutes, so you take his silence as rejection. Of course he would reject you. You had hurt him, why would he want to get back with someone like you. You let out a shaky breath as a sigh, disappointment for you escaping through it as you stood up.

Standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night

You attempted to smile through your tears. If this was going to be the last time you see him, might as well say goodbye with a smile.

“I got your answer, Suguru. Thank you for giving me best moments of my life. Maybe I didn’t get to have you back, but at least I can live on with your memories. Maybe I-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt a pair of all too familiar lips on yours, shutting you up.

It turns our freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

You widened your eyes from surprise but immediately shut them as you kissed back, your hands reaching to hug his neck, bringing him closer to you. Suguru wrapped his one arm around your waist and other made its way in your nape, holding you just like he always used to.

Both of you could taste salty tears as you kissed, but weren’t sure who’s they were. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you. You poured all of your love, apprehensions, bottled up feelings for him, regrets into this kiss. He kissed you with same passion. As if your lips were the only thing he needed to survive.

Few moments later, Geto pulled away, foreheads still attached to yours, as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, in these six months, you made me realise that the only thing which can complete me whole is you. Not getting to tell you these was tearing me apart. I thought I had lost you for good, but then you showed up at my door and all those feelings I had for you doubled. I love all of you, Y/N and I always will. And I’m willing to give us another chance, just promise me that you will talk to me next time you have those negative thoughts.”

Your heart melted hearing his words as you nodded, “I promise.”

Suguru ran his hand through your hair as he spoke again, “and I-I’ll need some time to completely forgive you. I hope you understand that. I’m just scared that you’ll leave me again.”

You quickly shook your head, “I mean it this time, Suguru. I’d never even dream of leaving you. I just got you back. And it’s okay. Take your time. I’m willing to wait for you, even if it is for an eternity.”

Suguru smiled at your words and pulled you into his chest as he swayed you slowly, holding you tightly close to him, and you finally felt complete again. You kissed his neck as you returned his gesture, silently promising him and yourself to never give up on him and let him go ever again.

I’d go back to December all the time

________________________________________

Ahhh I loved writing angst sm but it always breaks my heart if it doesn’t end with fluff. Anyways hope y’all liked this and if you want, you can send in request for JJK characters too!

(I might’ve gotten a little carried away at the end but i think it was worth it lmao)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu sorcerer #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto angst #geto x you #gojo satoru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #gojo x reader #taylor swift #speak now taylor’s version #back to december #jjk angst

[r1pp4r]

Hello There! I hope you're ok, I was wondering if u can help me, It's my first time asking :( ...

Anyway, imagine being captured during a mission, the enemy results being someone from your past an ex boyfriend or something like that, and he's trying to break your spirit which is not an easy task, so finally he ask why are u keep high hopes and confidence, and you answer him with a smile and a "he's going to find me and that will be the end for you"

Would be so cool with König 🤞🏻 but u can decide that 🥺

i hope i did your idea justice!! <33 i tried my best :)) im sorry its a bit long, and not much of tha boys🧍‍♂️i kinda liked the idea of keeping it mysterious n not much of them

anyway!! here ya go <333 i’ll make a ghost version if y’all like this one :)) anyway this’ll be sfw!!

warnings: mentions of gore and violence :))

——————————————————————————————

you could feel the hair nearly ripping from your scalp as you were being drug a across the floor in a large, open warehouse room. you kicked and scratched, thrashing your arms like you knew how.

but you were like a caged animal, with no escape. thrashing and trying to run. but to no avail. you were on a recon mission with KorTac, and a few of you had gotten separated. including you. but that was their plan all along.

you grunted loudly as you felt you back thrown against a chair, your hands being bound to the back of the metal chair. you struggled once more but finally realized it was futile. so you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before whatever cloth was over your eyes was removed.

it took you a minute to adjust to the bright fluorescent lights, blinking out all the dust which gathered into your eyes. but as you opened them, you could hear people around you. talking. it was loud, and you couldn’t think.

“oh, you’re awake huh.”

that voice was familiar. too familiar. you began to struggle almost worse, your eyes widening as you realized who it was. but the hand on your shoulder made your blood run cold. the weight was the same. the exact place he touched was the same. you knew it all too well.

“it’s been a long time, yeah? when was the last time we saw each other? was it- no no no. it was france. three years ago.”

the voice made you sick. it was disgustingly sweet, and the way his hand trailed over your skin made it crawl. your hands flexed against the zip ties and tape that were binding you down. you could barely breathe as he had taken all the air from your lungs.

the man came around to the front, squatting down in front of you. of fucking course. but how the hell did he get in to europe? especially here? those are questions you’d get later, but for now you kept eye contact. your gaze was cold as you had a mask which covered your nose down.

“let’s take off that little fuckin’ mask shall we?”

you threw your head back as the man reached out, a sinister grin on his lips. but as you threw your head back he grabbed your jaw and throat, nearly crushing it as he ripped your mask off.

the mask was more than just something to hide your face. it had become your identity and once the man ripped it off, you felt violated.

“there’s that pretty little face i missed.”

without thinking, you spat in his face, your chest heaving as you stared at the man with a deadly stare. your eyes were narrowed and you were clearly holding your ground. the man chuckled, shaking his head as he pinched his nose between fingers and wiped the spit off.

you didn’t care. you knew this man wouldn’t do anything to you or at least you thought.

and as you heard a deep breath, you suddenly felt pressure against your jaw and it was hard. it nearly knocked the chair over and of course he’d punched you. you coughed, spitting out blood as you sat back in your chair, staring at him.

“know your place, bitch!”

the man flung his hand slightly and it was obvious he’d barely thrown a punch before.

“you’re here to give me some information and then we’ll be on our little way. got it?”

you didn’t say anything. you didn’t even move a single muscle. you were trained for moments like these and you wouldn’t let a man like him break you. but you also didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. so you just didn’t say anything.

you didn’t have any of your gear on you. they’d obviously stripped you of everything but you could see it on the table. you didn’t know how long it had been since you’d gone missing and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he found you.

so you just knew you needed to hold your ground and keep composure. you were ready for this. you were made for this. you absolutely knew he was coming for you, and you’d be dammed if you were dead. you wouldn’t leave him like that.

but as the man tsked, it broke you out of your thoughts. you watched as he began walking over to you as he placed a hand on your jaw, gently tilting your head to look up at him.

“aw sweetpea. you’re not gonna talk? i’m sure you will soon.”

the man spoke. you didn’t move once again. but you looked over to the side where the door was. you were waiting. he gripped your jaw once again, causing you to look at him. you still didn’t say a word as you turned your head back, getting his hand in your mouth and you bit down as hard as you could. you could feel his bones flexing under the sheer power of your bite and you definitely drew blood.

but you didn’t care.

the man stumbled back, holding onto his hand as he screamed. you just sat there in the chair, blood running down your chin as you kept your hard and heavy gaze pinned upon him.

“you fucking cunt! fuck! you- oh you shouldn’t have fuckin done that!”

the man yelled at you. he held onto his hand, hissing at the pain but you just sat there with a dumb little smirk on your face. he obviously didn’t know what was coming and you wouldn’t give any evidence to what was.

but you knew he was coming. he had to. the tracker in your suit, walkie, and almost all of your gear proved that. and as if he’d ever let you out of his sight for that long.

you truthfully thought that would be it, but once the man had gotten his hand wrapped, he walked back over, placing a chair in front of you and he sat. the grin on his face truthfully sent a shiver down your spine. he was going to hurt you and he’d make it painful.

but you wouldn’t budge.

———

you were bloodied, bruised to a pulp. even though you were sobbing from the pain, you hadn’t given anything up. and you wouldn’t. you hadn’t said a word besides a few nasty remarks and retorts, which obviously just landed you more blows. you could tell the man was getting frustrated as him and his colleagues began arguing. you coughed, looking back at the door once more.

you could feel it. you could feel him. his presence was absolutely menacing and you knew he was coming for you. but did they? absolutely not. otherwise they never would’ve put their hands on you.

the man walked back over to you, and gripped your jaw once more, shifting your focus. you had a dead set look on your face and your eyes were numb. at this point you would’ve let them kill you, because the rage of him wouldn’t disappoint.

the man groaned loudly, narrowing his eyes.

“you were never this strong when i knew you. what happened to the little bitch i knew, huh? the little girl that tucked her tail between her legs at the sight of a man, huh!?”

he yelled, slapping you across the face once more.

you finally turned to look at him with a smile as you heard the sounds of men talking outside the building. you knew exactly who it was.

“you’ll be dead soon enough.”

was the only thing you said and the man scoffed, guessing you were referring to the obvious reinforcements that were coming to save you and of course the man didn’t think anything of it.

“we have this place surrounded little girl. no one’s getting in or out.”

he pfft’d. the other guards were laughing slightly. even with the radio chatter outside, they didn’t seem scared. but they should’ve been.

the man finally sighed and walked over to the table which had various weapons that had been used against you. but this time it was a gun. your eyes widened a bit, and you thought this was it.

but he was coming for you.

“those boys out there are the least of your worries.”

you finally spoke out.

you chuckled, leaning your head back against the chair as the man then pointed it at your chest. the man laughed with you, and of course it wasn’t for the same reasons. you’d let him have his fun and his moment. but this wasn’t ending well for one of you, and it wasn’t you.

“oh really? what could i possibly have to worry about besides them?”

and the smile which graced your face with was something beautiful. it was a real genuine smile as you began to hear the yelling. you knew exactly what was coming.

“just him.”

your tone was flat as the man raised an eyebrow. and as if on cue, the door was busted down. and there he was.

of course könig had come for you. he was a bit farther away but you could see the rage in his eyes. you saw as he looked to you, his eyes widened with concern as he saw the way you were bloodied and bound to a chair. but seeing a man with a gun to your chest?

how dare he.

and as könig began sprinting towards the man who had just tortured you for god knows how long, you took comfort in knowing that this man would be dying at the hands of your lover. and god would he die.

könig wasn’t kind, nor merciful. but hell was terrified of him after what he did to the man who put his hands on you. you couldn’t keep your eyes on him, because you’d never seen him move this fast. könig would usually take his time, but for what they did to you? a fast death was merciful. and as silence rang loud in the building once again, your thoughts were broken by heavy footsteps.

“oh.. my libeling..”

könig’s tone was soft, but the rage in his eyes was still burning bright. with his stature, he had to get on his knees in front of you, untying the ropes in which bound your hands to the back of the chair.

“don’t.. don’t worry, i’ve got you. you’re safe i’ve got you now.”

and as you fell forward, könig wrapped you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. you knew he would come for you.

#konig x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x female reader #ghost x oc #ghost x reader #konig imagine #konig x you #konig headcanons #konig smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod mw x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #cod x oc #cod headcanons #konig x y/n #konig x oc #konig x female reader

[pedroshotwifey]

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

#joel miller #fan fiction #pedro pascal #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #bless this mess #the last of us #tlou #we likey? #exhibition kink #enemies to lovers #dark!joel miller

[goldxbug]

Submakers i’d order void subs from if i had $$

Disclaimer: This is supposed to be fun, light hearted wishlist for subliminals because i love subliminals and only have been focusing on the void currently.

I recently came across someone ordering a df custom sub, they mentioned they got results but then they decided to change their df so they’ll be ordering a different sub from another sub maker💀

This got me thinking which submakers i would love to order void subs from! (because as we all know void is not a common topic)

If i had $$ to spare here’s who i would purchase void state subs from!

(My top three are starred)

Vetala (i have gotten amazing results from her subs like longer hair, bigger lips, nicer family, more confidence, prettier face in general)

⭐️ Slade (their void sub has so many results and everyone swears by their problem solving sub on reddit, twitter and discord servers so i think a new void sub or wake up in the void sub by them would be so powerful)

Kottie’s new AI formula has so MANY results (someone recently entered the void using kottie’s dream life sub)

⭐️ Neptune (i came across neptune’s channel after doona shared her sub in her success story, i noticed that her WL ug subs have amazing and drastic results! Her formula for drop sub for a wake up in the void sub would be amazing because i had instant drastic results when i used it, i even tried out her beauty subs on her second channel and looked prettier in just one listen, her subs are no joke and pretty underrated in my opinion)

⭐️ Moza morph’s NEW formula!! wake up in the void sub would guarantee results for sure! The amount of results that she has shared with her new formula has me convinced

Lay subliminals has so many results from her pale white sub so that formula seems to be pretty good

Bunni (her sub oops, mogged you is now unlisted but i get results in just one listen, so the formula she used for that sub would be great, i’d probably ask for the same song (cause it’s SOOOO fun) and a calm version to play overnight) (her VS sub also made me skinner in just one day)

Sttaly has quite a lot of results from paid subs but they can be quite pricey (also note: they mention the name of the sub user in the custom sub so sharing custom subs from sttaly might not be fruitful, she mentioned it on her instagram)

Lola bunni that goes by siren now her @ is youngsiren on youtube has great results to share! Someone used her df sub and got such drastic results her friend couldn’t believe it’s them with no filter!

I guess that’s it for my list!

SPECIAL MENTION:

THANK YOU TO THE ANONS FOR SHARING PAID CUSTOM SUBS FOR FREE FROM I WANT IT I GOT IT! YOU GUYS ARE SO COOL AND SWEET!

AND THANK YOU PINK FOR SHARING NOT ONE BUT THREE PAID VOID CUSTOM SUBS FROM KOTTIE, ITZKUZOME AND ENCHANTED WORKSHOP💗 BEST BLOGGER FR!

LASTLY THANK YOU TO THAT ONE PERSON WHO PAID FOR A CUSTOM VOID SUB FROM LUMINALPLAY AND LET HER POST IT ON YOUTUBE! (the sub user entered the void with it)

#void state #void #voidblr #the void state #subliminals

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister Ch6 and Ch7

Double Post:

Chapter 6: "Why Don't We Go On A Date?"

Chapter 7: "As Long As I Have You In My Life"

Summary: After Dazai's horrifying discovery that he is Odasaku's sister's "lifeline" and "only tie to her brother" the boy tries to give her something more permanent than a sad suicidal mistake like him.

Warning: pm! fifteen year old dazai, Dazai self destructing Odasaku death mentions, mention of torture/cruel training, manipulative behavior from both sides, underage drinking, talks of suicide. I gave Oda's sister a name but you can imagine it as y/n.

(This is chapter six and seven of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro Here: (just cause the first chapter is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 10k total

Chapter 6:

Osamu..I think you’re a good man. 

Six little words, six little words brought his entire world to a stand still. 

The foolishness of them danced across Dazai’s brain over and over again trying to decipher anything and everything about them only to come up empty. He couldn’t comprehend them, he couldn’t form them into reality no matter how hard he tried. 

So much so, that time passed by in a millisecond, Dazai staring at absolutely nothing, not present in the world at all. 

The bustling laughter of children as they made their way to school, the soft music from the speakers of the nearby shops, the feeling of a soft breeze across his features, none of them registered inside his brain. 

The only thing that did was the weight on his back, both emotional and physical as Asagao’s form slept motionless, unaware of the malfunction she had ushered by saying those six stupid, foolish and dangerous words. 

Just then, his phone started to sound inside his pocket only for the executive to finally look down and pull the object out, the move causing Asagao’s lips to let out a disgruntled groan in the process in order to shift the back of her head further across his shoulder. 

Answering the call, Dazai then heard a very familiar voice, pissed off per usual. “Hey Dazai! Where the hell are you!? I’ve been waiting for you to start this raid for three hours! You better get your sorry ass over here right now before I kick ya into next week, you hear me?!” 

At that, the boy’s eyes couldn’t help but flash with realization. Oh yeah, that’s right. Chuuya and him were supposed to raid a rival organization's hideout today. 

You see, the thing was, that whole little plan had slipped his mind because it was so utterly unimportant to him in every possible way. 

So much so, the bandaged menace lifted an eye in amusement. “Oh yeah, I decided I’m not coming! I got more important things to do. So do your best in my place, kay?” 

Lifting the phone away from his ear, he then waited as Chuuya’s voice shouted straight through the speaker, peaking the audio from how close he was to the device. “Ha?! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! You can’t just ditch!! What the hell do you gotta do instead?!” 

Dazai then put a finger up to his lips before humming back teasingly. “So nosey Chuuuya, are you jealous?” 

Almost immediately, the hot headed boy replied, disgusted by the notion. “Why the fuck would I be..! 

Yet that’s when the mafioso smirked before reaching forward in order to wrap his fingers around one of Asa’s crimson strains of hair hanging by her back in order to speak suggestively. “If you must know, I’m spending my day with a beautiful woman. So now you see why I can’t be there for your little raid. I’m already gonna have my hands full with something else.” 

The way he spoke those words, it was like he was implying something. Like he had just found another whore to sleep with and break for his own pleasure. And although that wasn't the case this time, Dazai knew that Chuuya would make the incorrect connection for him. 

And a moment later, the idiot man did just that. “You sick bastard! I swear to god I’m gonna..” 

Dazai only cut him off though, satisfied with the rage he had incurred before cheerfully replying back in a devious tone. “Oops! Seems like there's a bad connection. Gotta go, Chuuya! Now go be the good dog you are and capture that organization for me! Kay, byeee!” 

Then before he could interject, the brown haired mafioso quickly hung up the phone before throwing it into the grass with a large sadistic smile.

Ah, that was better. Nothing like Chuuya’s idiot thinking to snap him back to reality. 

Glancing back towards the sleeping Asagao, Dazai then lifted his hands up in order to physically push her head off of his shoulder only for the girl to groan in irritation, still not awake yet. 

Dazai then turned his body only for Asa’s head to fall onto his lap instead, the sudden warmth causing her to snuggle deeper only for the boy to tense at the sudden contact. Did this girl have no shame? She was just cuddling up with a murderer like nothing. 

Forcing himself to relax at the contact, the man then looked at her in exasperation. Damn, this girl slept like a rock. He supposed he’d have to try something else. 

Lifting his hands up, he then slipped his fingers around the large circular frames of her glasses in order to pull them off slowly with hum. “Time to wake up, sleeping beauty. Being so defenseless around a man like me, it’s not a wise decision.” 

She didn’t respond though, causing the boy to then narrow his expression before pressing his forefinger straight in the middle of her forehead roughly and poke the surface only for her to finally flop her eyes open with a whine. “Samu..” 

What was going on? She was so warm, so comfortable. 

Hold on, why was Osamu in her dreams? 

Just then, Asa then seemed to register the situation before she blinked in realization in order to propel her head off of his lap and gasp. “Osu?!” 

Laughing at her confused state, Dazai  then turned his head towards the fumbling girl. “Good afternoon, sweetheart. Glad you could join us today.” 

Asagao was still groggy though, the events of last night not fully registering as she placed a hand to her head. “W-What? What happened? Why was I…” 

Yet Dazai was happy to cut her off, his voice coming out pained and over dramatic as he held his back with a fake little pout. “You fell asleep on me and now my back really hurts. You’re so mean, Asa-channn making me stay here like this. Owwie..It was so uncomfortable!” 

It wasn’t really, but the boy wasn’t about to tell her the real reason why he had stayed complacent the whole time.  He didn’t want her to know that he had malfunctioned beyond basic human understanding. 

That just the mere belief in him had caused the boy to unravel. 

Asa only turned her head though, not really buying his “poor me” act in the slightest. “But you stayed here this whole time? Why didn’t you wake me up?” 

Almost immediately, the girl was confused. She knew Dazai wasn’t a touchy kind of guy, so the fact that he had willingly let her sleep on his shoulder for hours wasn’t in his character. So why had he done it? Why had he allowed such a thing?

And that was the question wasn't it? Why didn’t Dazai wake up, why did such a simple yet foolish statement cause him to lose sight of reality. It was stupid, he was stupid for it. Those words didn’t even mean anything. So why was he so enamored by them all the same?

But of course, he said none of those things, his mind an impenetrable fortress as he only smiled goofily in order to cover up his own conflict. “How could I when you looked so cute?” 

Asa didn’t even blink though, seeing through his facade in an instant. “I’m being serious Osu, you didn’t have to stay here for hours. You should’ve just thrown me off. I’m sure you had something important to do today.” 

That’s what he should’ve done, both of them knew it. Dazai wasn’t the kind of man to just selflessly allow such a thing to happen. Usually he’d just leave them in the grass and abandon them all together.

But this time, for some reason that Asa couldn’t figure out, he stayed. 

Not wanting to talk about such things anymore, Dazai then glanced towards the phone a couple inches away from him before recalling Chuuya’s pissed off reaction. 

And yes, he did have something to do today but letting his partner struggle was way more fun. So maybe this wasn't so bad after all. 

Because of that, the boy simply shrugged before fixing his crumbled black jacket carelessly. “Nothing interesting, but I must thank you, love. You gave me something far more entertaining in return.” 

Not understanding Dazai then watched Asa bat her innocent little eyes and turn her head in return. “And what’s that?” 

Already feeling his lips curve into a smug sadistic smirk, he finished cheerfully. “Why, an opportunity to mess with my favorite dog!” 

In fact, Dazai could already picture the stupid dumbfounded look on Chuuya’s face when he told him that he was ditching. It was music to his ears. Now he couldn’t join the raid, not when he had already gotten such a satisfying reaction from his favorite toy.

And though Asa didn’t fully understand what he was saying, his twisted response didn’t bother her in the slightest. In fact, it was the opposite, the girl thinking he would’ve been pissed after hours of having to be her pillow. 

Brushing the dirt and grass off her skirt, Asagao then pushed her feet to stand before looking out towards the bustling sounds around her. “Well, I’m glad you’re not mad but I guess I should be heading back. I already took up way too much of your time.” 

After this annoying night, the only thing she wanted now was to crawl back in her bed before she died of embarrassment from drooling on her brother’s best friend's shoulder without knowing. In fact, she could already feel the heat emerging to her cheeks at the memory. 

Yet that’s when Dazai paused before glancing towards the girl. “That might not be the best idea, love.” 

Asagao then paused only for the mafioso to grab his phone in order to show her the message he had received just a couple minutes prior. “I had my men stake out the place and it seems like Ango is still there. If you go back now he’ll probably try to drag you back again..” 

Then all at once, she felt her face fall. Oh yeah, Ango. She had forgotten about that stuck up, straight laced, government agent. Damn it, looks like she couldn’t relax like she wanted to now that he was chasing after her again. 

Grumbling to herself, Asa then ran a hand across her face with frustration before shaking her head in exasperation. Just when would he give it a rest? “...Great...looks like I can’t go home after all..” 

She then closed her eyes, trying her best not to show her annoyance before Asa sighed in order to turn back to the bandaged boy with a wave of her hand. “Either way, thanks again, Osu. I’ll let you get back to your illegal activities now.”

Dazai then watched her start to leave, already knowing that she was going to bumble around the city in order to kill time until Ango left. The question was, would she even make it back home with her blurry offset eyesight? Now that was to be determined. 

Just then, last night's events began to play in his mind like some kind of punishment. There was her voice again, mocking him into still silence. 

Osamu..I think you’re a good man.

Just great. First Odasaku was haunting him and now his sister was doing the same. Why couldn’t he get her foolish little statement out of his head? 

It’s not like he was happy about it, it was just a delusion on her part after all. Although now that he thought about it, Asagao seemed to delude herself about everything. 

She deluded herself by hoping that life had meaning, she deluded herself into never looking at the negatives and she deluded herself into thinking her big brother resented her even though it was not true.

But the biggest mistake she seemed to make was picking Dazai to be her constant, her unmovable tangible source of Odasaku’s life. Sure, letters were one thing, they were physical, unchanging, but him? He knew that he wasn’t reliable in that sense. 

Yes, Dazai knew himself better than anyone else. He was fragile and flighty, a flicker in this pathetic life that could burn out with just a slightest blow of air. He was wavering and artificial, and the fact that she had so openly stated that he was her lifeline was something that the boy found incredibly foolish. 

Because he couldn’t give her what she desired, what she needed more than anything. 

She couldn’t ground herself with him, even if she wanted to.

Because Dazai didn’t want to live, he didn’t want to wake up tomorrow and carry on with this joke of a life. And one day he was sure he would succeed in his wish to finally disappear from this world entirely. It was inevitable, and yet Asagao still clung to his physical body simply because she had nothing else to prove Odasaku’s writings. 

And Dazai knew she would be ruined like that, that putting such desperation into an already dead man would result in a cataclysmic detonation beyond human prescription. 

Because of that, the boy felt himself move, reaching forward in order to grasp onto Asagao’s hand and pull her against his chest. “You know, since we are now both suddenly free. Why don’t we go on a date?” 

Asagao only paused though, feeling the warmth from the proximity before turning to look at him in confusion. Did she just hear that right? No, it couldn’t be. “You’re asking me on a date?

Lifting his hands up with excitement, Dazai then spoke back. “Why not! My darling girlfriend has planned two of them already. I think it’s time I do the honors this time.” 

And he thought Asa would jump for joy at that, although it seemed she only stared at him with disbelief, like she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. “I didn’t think you’d care about that kinda thing..” 

Pouting his lips, Dazai then jumped back from the girl in question before dramatically whining back. “How mean, Asa-chan. How could you say such hurtful things to your boyfriend like that? Did you ever think I just wanna spend some extra time with my cute girl?” 

Once again though, Asa deadpanned, not buying his boy-ish act. “Not really no..”

Gasping at her blunt reply, Dazai then shoved his hand over his heart in order to hunch over like he had been shot. “Ouch. You wound me, love! I don’t know how I’ll ever recover now!”

Although that’s when Asagao simply shut her eyes before giving a heavy sigh in order to turn back to the boy with a light smile. “Osamu, I appreciate the gesture but you know you don’t have to push yourself like that for me. I’ve already bothered you enough by going past our agreement and fell asleep on your shoulder without asking. I couldn't expect more.”

At that, Dazai couldn’t help but pause. Ah, she knew he was going out of his character and pushing himself past what he would normally do. What a clever girl, picking him apart like that. He couldn’t help but admire it.  

And though she was right in a sense, it wasn’t about want or not. It was more of a need. The need to give Oda’s sister something more reliable and tangible then just a sad suicidal boy like him, something that wouldn’t fade from her fingertips without warning. 

Because of that, Dazai simply reached forward in order to hold onto both her hands, a new sparkle in his eyes. “Aww Asa-chan, you’re so sweet for worrying about me. My heart has been restored! And don’t worry about the agreement, just think of this little outing as a freebie!” 

Asagao still didn’t seem overly convinced though, the girl trying to decipher his hidden intentions silently as Dazai smugly smiled. Oh, she was working overtime to get into his head, wasn’t she? Too bad he wasn’t going to reveal this little secret. 

And just as the boy predicted. Asa was stumped. She knew he wasn’t being genuine about asking for a date, that he had some kind of plan underneath it all. Hell, the boy didn’t even care about her, that much was already established. So why all of a sudden had Dazai asked for this strange request? 

She was curious, sure, but Oda’s sister still tried to stay strong, knowing she had already burdened him way too much today. Who cares if he was trying to manipulate her right now into something, their agreement was only about the letters. Nothing else. 

And she had already broken that rule tonight. No, she couldn’t break it any further. 

Yet that’s when Dazai lowered his eyes slowly before adding nonchalantly. “Oh, and did I forget to mention we are going somewhere that has to do with Odasaku?” 

Then all at once, Asagao felt her head immediately snap back to his. Wait, he was going to take her somewhere that her brother visited? Damn it, he knew she couldn’t resist that, not when she had been searching for traces of him all throughout Yokohama. 

Dazai on the other hand was smiling like a fiend, knowing that he had her right where he wanted her. From just the look on her face he knew she was squirming with conflict right now. Just the way he liked it. 

A moment later, Asagao replied, her voice slightly desperate. “Where?”

The mafioso then darkened before pushing a mocking finger up to her lips in order to cut off her curiosity. “Ah ah ah, you gotta say the magic words first. Now, let’s try this again..” 

Pushing his fingers away, Dazai then dipped his head down in a dramatic bow in order to lift his hand out to the girl in question, already knowing she was trapped against a metaphorical wall. “What do you say, love? Will you go on a date with me?” 

And for a moment, Asagao paused, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But the more the silence clung onto the air, the more her fingers began to fidget and twitch with the idea of finding out more about her brother. 

Then all at once, her resolve faltered before muttering under her breath with embarrassment. “As long as you don’t mind..” 

Yet Dazai only shook his head at the weak attempt, wiggling his fingers in front of her before humming back in dissatisfaction. “I need a yes, love.” 

And then he waited, he waited for the submission that was a guarantee. Yes, Asagao was clever, she read him a million different ways but it seemed he still knew how to get what he wanted. And this time, he would win their little game. 

Taking a heavy breath, Asagao then closed her eyes before lifting her hand out to the devious man in question, already knowing she had lost this round. “Yes, Osamu. I’ll go on a date with you...” 

Although before her fingers could make contact with her hand, Dazai immediately closed the distance before grasping onto her hand with an excited cheer. “Yay! Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Come on, let’s go!” 

He then shifted his fingers down to her wrist before turning around in order to drag the poor girl down an uncertain path as Dazai beamed happily, pulling his tamed little puppy along the way. 

And with that, he marked another tally in victory. 

Dazai Osamu: 2  Oda Asagao: 1

----

Chapter 7:

Throughout her blurry uncertain vision, Asagao felt her body pulled towards the unknown as she focused on the solid black mass that had consumed her whole world. And whether he realized it or not, the girl slowly felt the outside murmurs and voice disappear into her own mind. 

Because nothing else but him mattered to her.

Osamu seemed to have that effect on her every time she saw them, Asa always desperate to soak in everything about the oblivious boy regardless of the barriers in front of her eyes. His words, his actions, the way he held himself, the cadence in which he spoke, she categorized it all. 

Which was why his decision to take her on this date was so odd. 

Because as far as she knew, Osu wasn’t that kind of man. He was a cruel, manipulative, mafia executive that only did things out of pure entertainment or for some kind of tactical advantage. 

Yes, her brother was different but Asagao knew that the blood in her veins didn’t fully protect her from Dazai’s real character. 

Which was fine. She didn’t care that he was incapable of emotion and kindness. That’s not why she was here in the first place. She wasn’t that simple minded, and the last thing she wanted him to do was force himself out of that box and make him uncomfortable. 

But it seemed that today he wouldn’t take no for an answer which meant that he either had some other intention with their date or he was pushing himself to do something strange for the sake of Oda. 

Sighing to herself, Asagao then paused as her body collided with the mafia executive, not realizing the man had stopped completely. Oh, were they here already? She didn’t recognize this part of town. 

Yet that's when she felt his fingers reach forward in order to snatch the large circular frames from her face, eradicating her safety net as Asa’s eyes widened in fear. What was he doing? She didn’t want to see the world right now. “O-Osam..”

Although before she could protest, Dazai replaced the object with his hands, pushing her back against his chest in order to darken her surroundings before she could have time to process them. 

Then she heard his voice, sharp against her ear. “You’ll want to fully see this, love.” 

Fully see it? No, that was impossible. She didn’t want to see anything, she didn’t want to decipher anything fully. Then she would see the darkness, she would see the cracks in the perfect facade that life displayed. 

Dazai seemed to sense her distress though, his tone teasing as his fingers pressed deeper across her eyes to show her that they weren’t going anywhere. “What’s wrong, don’t trust your boyfriend? Afraid I’m going to hurt you while you’re defenseless like this?”

He was trying to scare her, to intimate her per usual. But if he thought that she was going to crumble between his fingers then he was sorely mistaken. “You know that’s not why..it’s just..my eyes..” 

Asa then heard him laugh in pure amusement before his bandaged arm brushed against hers in order to lift the surface and place it on an unknown doorknob in front of them. “Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” 

Did that mean he was going to keep her eyes covered for her until they got to where he wanted her to see? But what if he slipped up, what if he let go accidentally or for some kind of joke? What he was asking for required a lot of trust, trust from a boy that thrived on sadistic games. 

But even so, Asa complied, her fingers turning open the door as Dazai urged her forward in order for her breath to lodge inside her throat with each step. She had nothing to guide her, nothing but his body to rely on. 

Just then, his fingers found her wrist before lifting them up in order for her to register a railing as the mafioso hummed back into her ear. “Count the steps, love. There are twenty of them.” 

And so she did, the girl gripping around the railing for dear life as she counted each invisible step in her mind, careful not to trip as her back brushed against Dazai’s body in order to ground herself. 

Finally reaching the bottom, Asagao then sighed in relief only to hear him speak once again, the sound causing shivers to run down her spine. “Good girl, here’s your reward.” 

Yet that’s when she felt the safety of his fingers start to disappear from her eyes, causing Asa to gap in horror. Wait, what was he doing? He hadn’t given her glasses back. Was he serious about her seeing this place with her eyes? No, that was too scary. 

Blinding lights then filled her vision, causing the girl to squint before she couldn’t help but freeze at the very sight before her. And in a millisecond, she seemed to forget her own rule about viewing things from a blurry lens. 

Because staring back at her was a small cozy little bar, the atmosphere warm and secluded with rows of stools and the smell of liquor wafting through the air. 

Wait, she had seen this place before. 

Aggressively shoving her hands into her pockets, Asagao then pulled out the picture that Dazai had shown her last night before her eyes couldn’t help but widen with realization in order to lift the photo in front of the place slightly. 

Her assumption was right, it was a perfect match. 

Feeling any response fall silent in her throat, Oda’s sister whispered. “Is this…” 

Dazai finished for her, his hands in his pockets as he looked at the place in nostalgic sadness. “Bar Lupin, where the picture was taken.”

And almost immediately, Asagao felt her throat fill with emotion in order for her vision to blur with tears only for her to immediately blink them away. 

No, she didn’t want to only see the blurry picture of this place. She needed it to be real, to soak in every nook and cranny into it was permanently etched in her mind. 

Now she knew what Dazai had meant by saying she would have wanted to fully see this place without the barriers of her glasses. He was right, he was so incredibly right. This feeling, these physical floorboards under her feet. They felt so real. 

Her big brother had stood in this same exact spot, he had breathed in the same air and had seen the same view. 

Sure, she had been living in his old apartment for some time but Asagao had no proof that he had ever inhabited the place. 

But with the photograph between her fingers, Asagao knew that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. Oda was here, and now so was she. The idea was so simplistic and yet it brought her so much joy, her hands unable to stop the shake and smile towards the empty bar. 

Then she turned to the supposedly heartless mafioso before speaking through her tears. “Osamu, this is..thank you..I’m so happy..” 

So this is what he was trying to show her? He must have gotten the idea after hearing her outburst to Ango about not having anything but Osamu to cling to. How sweet, he knew she needed this more than anything. 

He always tried to act so scary but he really was like this, huh?

Dazai on the other hand stared at the empty place in silence as a mix of grief and familiar comfort coursed through him all at once. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t come back after Odasaku's death, and yet here he was all the same. 

The memories, the feelings were all so suffocating, he wished he never felt them in the first place. But this was the only place that Dazai knew Odasaku in, this was the only place that he could give Asagao. Because of that, he had gone against his own wishes. 

At least this place wouldn’t fade like himself, and that was enough for Dazai. 

That’s right, now when Dazai finally succeeded to die, when he left this world he knew that she could wallow her sorrows here, she could find her big brother in these walls. 

Now the boy wasn’t the only physical tie to Odasaku she had. 

Yeah, now he could die with peace again without the guilt of destroying the last piece of his best friend that resided in this shitty little life. Did that make him a good person? He wasn’t sure but this was something he felt like he had to do. 

For Odasaku, and for his precious little sister that the man had left in his fingers. 

Closing his eyes, Dazai then tried to wash away the feeling before settling into his usual seat by the bar in order to wave over the girl in question. “Let’s have a drink, love.” 

He then watched as she complied immediately, slipping into the stool beside him only for an unpleasant deja vu to fill his throat. Without her glasses she looked even more like Odasaku, especially from this angle. 

The bartender turned to him immediately, his tone plain. “What will it be, Dazai?” 

Tapping his fingers onto the top of the table, the mafioso already knew the answer. “Whiskey.” 

Then the boy turned his gaze towards Oda’s sister only to rest his head on the palm of his hand with a slight tease. “Well, what about you, darling? Don’t worry, they have apple juice.” 

He didn’t expect her to actually drink alcohol of course. She was just a fifteen year old girl, hardly old enough for liquor.

And hey, so was he but being in the mafia gave him a free pass. Besides, considering his other crimes, underage drinking was pretty low on the list of immoral behavior. 

Yet that’s when Asa pushed her lips together cutely before pushing her hand up in order to shield her hollow eyes and reply to the bartender. “Make that a double, please..” 

At that, Dazai couldn’t help but raise an eye, not expecting her response.“Ooooh, I’m impressed. But your brother would’ve had a heart attack hearing that.”

And he really would have. In fact, Dazai knew Odasaku would’ve definitely shut down Asagao's request for alcohol. Unlucky for her though, the boy wasn’t that considerate about laws and such. 

What could he say? Ango was right, he was a bad influence. 

Two amber colored drinks then slid into view as Asagao lightly traced her finger around the rim with a hum. “Would he? Then he better not find out that I started years ago.” 

Years ago, huh? Perhaps Asagao wasn’t as good of a girl as he once thought. “How scandalous, Asa-chan. Should I tell Ango about that?” 

At that, he watched her scrunch her nose up in disgust. “And what about you, Osu? You’re the same age as me.” 

Dazai only hummed though, knowing it wasn’t the same. “I’m also a criminal, love.” 

Asagao was silent, like she was processing the words before she threw the entire drink into the back of her throat before whispering bitterly. “Yeah well, so was I.” 

The words were so small and yet Dazai heard every symbol before curiosity and intrigue couldn’t help but take up his entire throat. Now why did she have to say something like that? Now he wanted to pry into her mind and pull out an answer. 

And there were many ways to do it, but none of them were savory in any way. You see, Dazai was skilled in manipulation and exploitation. He could seduce and coax even the strongest willed people. 

So trying to make Asagao talk about her life was as simple as blinking for him. 

It didn't matter if she seemed bothered when Ango brought it up last night. He’d get her to talk about it one way or another. 

Lifting his hand up excitedly, Dazai than beamed towards the bartender before waving. “Two more!” 

And as two more sets of liquor appeared in his vision, the boy simply slid them over to Asa with a fake innocence and a smile. “Go ahead, Asa-chan. And don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.”

He then watched Asagao look down at the new glass before picking up the object between her fingers.

And for a moment, Dazai thought he had succeeded in his bribe.

Although that’s when the girl simply closed her eyes before speaking into the glass plainly. “You know, Osamu. You don’t have to get me drunk. I’ll answer any question you want.” 

At that, Dazai felt himself pause before his smile dropped all at once in order for him to change into his true cruel nature. 

Ah, he should’ve figured it wasn’t gonna be that easy to coax her into his plans. He still wasn’t used to that, having someone that could read him almost instantly like a book. 

Although that’s when he truly processed her words. Wait, did she just say that he could’ve just asked her about her life? Interesting, Dazai had never had that before. Usually they shut him down and he had to resort to dirty tactics. 

How refreshing and yet utterly stupid on her part to open up to a man like him 

Parting his lips to reply, he then watched as Asagao quickly downed the two drinks he had given her anyways, causing his eyes to flash with confusion. 

Hold on, she had already figured out his plans to get her drunk and yet she was still going along with that anyways? What a strange girl. He thought she’d just push the glasses away. 

And with no answer to his intrigues, Dazai couldn’t help but speak back. “Then why are you still accepting it?” 

Pushing the glasses down from her lips, he then watched as Asagao paused before answering with a small smile. “Cause if you think I should be drunk for this conversion then I figured I should take you up on that offer.” 

She still wasn’t looking at him though, and Dazai concluded it was because she still felt uncomfortable because he hadn’t given her glasses back yet. It’s not like he minded though. She was really cute when she hid her face like that, all shy and meek. 

So instead, the boy didn’t speak about it, watching her call for another round of drinks before Dazai started his interrogation now that there was a rosy pink color to her cheeks. “Ango called you a hellhound. ” 

Almost immediately, Asa laughed under her breath before swirling the drink between her fingers. “Ah, so that’s what it is. You were right to order those drinks.” 

Dazai then watched as the girl threw back another shot before speaking distantly, like she was wrapping herself in some sort of memory. “The Hellhounds are an elite level of assassins, brought up from birth to be the perfect tools to those that hold their leash. Oda and I were orphans that were brought up into the same faction but because of my different way I saw the world,I was chosen as a candidate to be a hellhound.” 

Smiling bitterly, Asa then lifted a finger up to her throat before ghosting across the skin. “By age five I knew how to run a knife across someone's throat and put a bullet in their brain without them knowing. My ability allowed quick, precise and clean kills. You could say I was a bit of a prodigy, just like you are.” 

She then pushed, her face falling with unpleasant memories. “But the training..was intense...”

And as Dazai listened to her explanation things started to make sense. He didn’t know much about Odasaku before he joined the port mafia. He knew he was a freelance assassin but that’s about it. It made sense that he got those skills from somewhere. 

But try as he may, he couldn’t see sweet little Asagao as a bloodthirsty prodigy like he was. Sure, she had fought him before but the girl never seemed to intend to kill. 

Unless she was holding back on him this entire time.

 Ah, what a sneaky little princess. So hypocritical to tease him about playing around with her when she was clearly doing the same thing. She threw that gun away on purpose and limited her ability use during their fight to make it seem like he had the advantage. 

Now he wanted to fight her for real to see just how scary she could really be. 

Turning his head in curiosity, Dazai then pointed his finger towards her distant expression. “Is that how those pretty little eyes of yours became so hollow and empty?” 

He then watched as she clutched the empty glass between her fingers before the mafioso silently slid the rest of his drink over to her only for Asa to accept it gratefully. 

Damn, the answer to that question must’ve really been traumatic given that she needed more alcohol in response. 

And though most men would’ve changed the subject, Dazai only let her compose herself, silently watching as she closed her eyes before replying. “They made me see the darkest part of the world, they waterboarded me, disoriented me and then forced me to analyze every single depravity that the human mind could conjure up. It wasn’t for the weak of heart and… it broke something in me permanently...” 

Then before she could process it, memories and past feelings couldn’t help but creep up her spine. They were blurry and out of order but Asa got enough to know that her time as a hellhound wasn’t the most pleasant. 

Even now, she could feel the sharp cold chill of the icy tub as her ears drowned out any semblance of noise only to be assaulted with fingers on her face in order to scream at her to analyze the situation before her. She felt the blinding feeling of pepper spray in her eyes and blows to her head as she tried to answer the prompts that her captives had given her. 

She even felt the lingering sensation of cloth around her eyes as they plunged her into pitch black darkness for months on end only to blind her with bright lights and disorient her further. 

Her spine then began to shiver before forcing her eyes back open in order to blankly stare at the amber colored liquid in front of her. “I can’t turn it off anymore, I can’t help but see every fucked up corner of people’s intentions. My eyes catch every spec of darkness, every disappointment. So much so that it hurt to see, still does. I hate it, this thing they made me into..”

And that was the thing she hated more than anything. It wasn’t that those people had molded her into a robotic mold of their perception. It wasn’t that they essentially tortured her into their own design. 

It was the fact that she was now permanently damaged, doomed to live the rest of her life in a sacred manner. She couldn’t look at the world anymore without seeing the bad. She couldn’t escape the sharp headaches and nauseous feelings in her chest just by wishing she was any semblance of normal. 

Some days she even thought about ripping her own eyes out of her sockets, to perfectly gouge them out and blind herself so that she didn’t have to perceive anything ever again. 

Forcing herself to carry on, Asagao finished robotically. “But one day my body couldn’t keep up. They left me to die because I was no longer sufficient and Oda found me. Then he faked my death, hid me away, gave me my glasses so I didn’t have to see anymore and became an assassin in my place.” 

At that, Dazai felt his fingers slip into his pockets before feeling the metal of her glasses in order to pull out the object and place them on the table. 

He had taken them for her benefit but now that the boy knew the full story of such insignificant objects, it didn’t seem right to withhold them anymore from her. 

Sure, Asa had vaguely told him about the reasons for her glasses but now that the details were all laid out, Dazai couldn’t help but look at her with a new light. 

These lenses weren’t just a preference, they were a necessity to her. 

She needed them just like Dazai needed his bandages, and that was something the fifteen year old boy could understand quite well.

 It seemed like they had more in common than he originally thought. 

The girl accepted the glasses immediately, her fingers wrapping around the objects before placing the safe guard around her eyes before smiling softly in return. “And now, I’m free, my big brother gave me freedom.”

Freedom? The term was incomprehensible for the young boy. What did that feel like, to be free? To not be tied down by the darkness of the past? He didn’t know. 

Just then, Dazai’s mind filled with that same twisted mindset he had come to know. What a stupid girl, she was talking about freedom when she was sitting next to one of the most dangerous men in Yokohama. 

She had just dangled her skills and past resume in front of his face so carelessly.

Swirling his finger around the rim of his drink, the mafioso threatened back. “Shouldn’t you be a little more cautious about telling me all of this so easily? I am the demon prodigy after all. I could force you back into that life..”

And he could. If he really wanted to, Dazai knew he could pull her into the port mafia and use her talents for his own selfish desires. She had to have known that. 

But then why was she just spilling such dangerous secrets so easily? 

Asagao only hummed though, his threat leaving her unshaken. “Hypothetically yes, and I’m sure you’ve thought about it at least once or twice. I’m a tempting offer after all. Any executive would jump at the chance to use me..”

Then he watched as Asa narrowed her eyes for a moment before adding lightly. “But unlike what Ango believes, I know you won’t actually do it.”

Wouldn’t actually do it? Now that was a bold statement. He wondered what proof she had for that. “And why is that, love?” 

Although that’s when Oda’s sister turned her body towards him for the first time since their conversation in order to speak with a victorious tease. “Cause it’s not what Oda would’ve wanted.” 

At that, Dazai felt his lips curve into a bitter smile. Ah, she was right. She knew that Odasaku’s blood in her veins was keeping her safe. It was almost like she was rubbing that little detail in his face. Low blow.

For as dark and twisted as his mind was, Dazai knew that Odasaku had spent years trying to keep his little sister safe. Sure, having her in the port mafia would be a great benefit, but it would also ruin everything his best friend had ever worked for. 

And that was something Dazai couldn’t do, no matter how evil he claimed to be. 

Feeling himself laugh under his breath at her correct assumption, the boy then turned his head, playing devil's advocate just for the hell of it. “And let’s just say I didn’t care about that. What would you do then?”

Asagao then paused, thinking about his question before answering back with confidence. “Then I would let you drag me into the port mafia. But the only orders that I'd ever answer and respect would be yours.”

Dazai was certainly taken back by that. Was she serious? He knew her dedication to him was rather irrational but would she seriously put herself back in the darkness for his sake? Would she really disobey her big brother's last request that easily? 

Trying out to laugh off her foolish joke, the boy pushed his hand under his chin before teasing sensually. “I’m flattered, love. So you would be my loyal subordinate then?” 

But there was no hesitation or humor in her response. Only straight laced honesty. “Yeah, cause I need you by my side in order to see my big brother. Subordinate, girlfriend, they are just titles. An excuse, a way to keep each other around. In the end it doesn't matter what I’m called as long as I have you in my life.” 

And try as he may, Dazai couldn’t help the bitter, unpleasant taste that built up in his throat. No, she wasn’t serious. There was no way. Her admiration, her desperation to find her brother, would she really have gone that far just for Oda’s sake? 

He hated it, he hated the very little self respect she displayed, knowing that Odasaku would’ve also been horrified by what she was saying. She didn’t need Dazai in her life. Hell, her life would’ve been so much better without even knowing him. 

And he knew that their titles of boyfriend and girlfriend were a sham but he never thought it would go this deep, that she would so desperately grab onto whatever excuse she could find in order to connect the two of them together. 

Because of that, Dazai felt his mind run wild with possibilities.

In another reality, if that actually happened, if he had dragged Asagao back then did that also mean that Oda’s sister would’ve killed for him? Would she have snapped back to her old ways just in order to please him, to give him a reason to keep her around? 

Didn’t she know how dangerous that was? 

How could she possibly give a demon like him that much power to abuse?

Stretching her arms up in the air, Asagao then gave a goofy smile before beaming towards the boy all at once. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what we call ourselves. In any universe or reality it would still be the same. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon, Osu!” 

She said that so proudly, so confidently that Dazai couldn’t help but allow his eyes to fall back on his drink. How could she be so passionate about him? He was a mess in every possible way. No one wanted to hang around him, and for good reason. 

Their lives were so similar, both filled with horrors and brutal truths, and yet Asagao always wore a smile while he drowned in the pointlessness of it all. How could she do it? How could she feel so free when he was still chained by his own mind even today. 

Because of that, Dazai felt his own tipsy lips move without permission, whispering into his glass with a sadness he rarely let free. “After seeing all that evil, how can you not want to die like me?” 

And then he waited for her response, his shoulders tense and anxious from the sudden spilled murmur before Asagao lifted her head up in silent thought. “Mmm I don’t know. By all aspects that should be the case, right? But I’ve never felt that way, not once..” 

Then her lips formed a lighthearted smile in return. “I guess it’s because I’m waiting for life to pleasantly surprise me. Just like you do, Samu.” 

At that, Dazai lifted his head up in confusion. “How have I surprised you?”

Pushing her hands across the bar in explanation, Asa then replied lightly. “Well, you showed me this place to make me feel better, right? Even though I’m sure it brought back unpleasant memories, you still took me here for my sake..”

And Asagao knew that Dazai could act all he wanted but he had shown his true colors tonight. Sure, he may have used an underhanded tactic to bring her here but he had knowingly done the one thing she needed more than anything else. 

Dazai though, didn’t feel the same way, knowing this date wasn’t as pure as she was making it out to be. The only reason he brought her here was to shift her devotion and admiration to something else, something more permanent than a dead man walking.

Pushing his hand up to his lips, the boy frowned under the skin. “Did it ever cross your mind that my reasons were selfish?”

And for a moment he thought she’d be disappointed, that she’d yell at him or cry once she realized the fabrication he had set up to make himself feel better. 

Although that's when he watched the girl turn to him, her hand to her heart in absolute passion. “So what? Selfish and selfless, those are just small details. The results are the same. Doesn’t change the fact that you gave me such a precious gift..”

Lifting her hand to rest against her head, Asagao then gave the stunned boy a toothy smile of glee before adding wistfully. “But then again, nothing could ever be as precious as you, Dazai Osamu.” 

And with those words, Dazai’s eyes widened in order to find himself slipping back into the very same malfunction that had plagued him just a couple hours ago. 

Precious? 

Him? There was no way. He was just a pathetically depressed kid. He wasn’t anyone, especially anyone precious. She was the precious one, she was Odasaku’s beloved sister and he was..well..he was nothing of value..

So much so, the boy tried to wipe the compliment away, not knowing how to take it. “You’re drunk, love.” 

He then watched as Asagao’s lips turned into an adorable little pout in order to whine back to him through her rosy pink cheeks. “Whaaa, am not! I was being serious! I really do think you’re precious to me, even if you don’t feel the same. And anyways, It takes a lot more than..one..two..three..a bit of booze to knock me down!” 

Dazai then watched as the red haired girl looked down at her fingers before failing to count the number of drinks she had ingested only for the boy to snicker under his breath. 

Oh yeah, she was definitely drunk. 

So much so, the boy lifted his hand up before patting the top of her head like a little puppy in order to break her concentration. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re gonna burst a blood vessel if you think that hard.” 

Seemingly jumping back to life, Asa then lifted her finger in the air. “The point is..!” 

Her eyes then began to daze in order to slowly drop her head with confusion. “What was the point again..” 

Yet before Dazai could answer, Asagao was back at it, her expression changing back to one of passion in order to lean closer on her stool. “Oh yeah! The point is, why would I wanna die when there are still so many opportunities for the world to be beautiful? I don’t wanna miss one by giving up so soon..” 

Leaning even closer, the girl then gasped as she slid out of the stool completely only for Dazai’s strong bandaged arms to catch her before she hit the ground. 

Asagao didn’t seem to care though, her eyes showing through her glasses in order to lift her finger up and boop his nose with a slight giggle. “And neither should you, love”

Then the girl seemed to gasp in excitement before completely slipping out of his arms in order to turn to the small radio next to the counter. “Ah! I love this song! Turn it up Mr. Bartender!”

Skipping over to the open area, Asagao then began to bounce and dance to the song in child-ish glee only for Dazai’s eyes to travel down to the hands that once held her before balling his fists with a bitter chuckle. 

What was she saying? He shouldn’t give up on life? Foolish girl, he gave up a long time ago. It was too late for those kinds of words. She should’ve known that. 

How dare she put such pointless and toxic thoughts inside his head like that. 

Lifting his head to look up at the carefree girl, the mafioso then watched in stunned silence as she twirled and giggled across the bar without a care in the world. 

She looked so free like this, so unchained and open. He wondered how it felt, to radiate such genuine happiness and to be unequivocally herself. Because Dazai had never felt happy, not in that kind of way. 

He used happiness as a tool, as a mask to further his manipulation. He knew the concept, sure, but actually conceptualizing such a thing? He had realized from a young age that it was impossible for someone as broken like him. 

But Oda’s sister, she seemed to radiate the emotion with her entire soul, she knew the wonder and mystery of it. And Dazai couldn’t help but be jealous of such a fact, knowing he would never experience such a human emotion to the level that she was. 

That’s when his eyes couldn’t help but flash with painstaking realization. 

Oh, he had it wrong this entire time, didn’t he? Dazai had connected the similarities between their backstories, their intelligence, their manipulation and their necessity for his bandages and her glasses. 

But looking at her now, the boy knew they weren’t anything alike. 

In many ways Asagao was like a sun, her light always exuding positivity and hope with every response. She was unreachable, a fragile yet strong flower that was just barely out of reach in every possible way. 

And Dazai, well he was a black hole, unable to find anything of value but the darkness that always consumed every part of his twisted fucked up soul. And while she was unreachable, he was a ghost, flickering in and out of this life, unable to touch anything or anyone. 

They shared so many similarities and yet Asagao still saw the good, she saw the very best the world could offer while Dazai couldn’t even find one beneficial thing around him. 

He almost wished that they didn’t weren’t so alike, simply because then the boy could excuse their lives as plain nativity on her part. 

That’s what he thought all that positive bullshit came from in the first place, thinking that she was just a spoiled and sheltered girl that Odasaku had protected. 

But she wasn’t, she had seen just as much evil and pain as Dazai had. And yet, her responses were so vastly different. She had managed to keep her humanity while the boy had descended into a full blown monster. 

And Dazai would be lying to say he wasn’t both incredibly jealous and yet so genuinely intrigued by her in every way. 

No, that wasn’t the right word. 

He was enamored, he admired her resolve more than anything else. What a beautiful, enthralling sight. It was intoxicating, and enchanting in every way, seeing how she defied the corruption of the universe. 

Although that’s when the bartender interrupted his thoughts, his eyes also gazed towards Asagao in question. “Dazai, who is that woman?” 

Shifting his body to rest his back against the bar, Dazai then smiled to himself before answering honestly. “She’s Odasaku’s sister.” 

The bartender then felt himself freeze before looking at the girl in a whole new light. “I can see it.” 

Lowering his eyes in admiration, Dazai then felt his lips curve a bit wider. Ah, she’d be so happy to hear that. “Me too.” 

And he really did, he saw Odasaku in her so clearly, especially now. It was in her carefree attitude, it was in the sense of unbothered calm she always had when she was around him. If only Asa realized just how much she brought her big brother to life by just merely existing.

Lifting his head to the sky, the boy then closed his eyes in order to speak to his old friend. Oh Odasaku, why did you give me to your sister like this? Don’t you see I’m no good for her? Did you really trust me not to corrupt her?

Yet that’s when he heard another voice enter his mind only to watch a drunken man try to make his way up to Asa only for Dazai to darken his eyes in order to quickly jump off his stool and lift an arm out to the girl in question. 

Asa then felt his bandaged arms wrapped around her waist a second later, pulling her into his chest only for the girl to look up in her drunken daze. “S-Samu?” 

She was then met with his endless brown gaze, staring at her in order to slip his hand into hers with a light chuckle. “Can’t leave my girl hanging, now can I?” 

Feeling his head tilt towards the unwelcome presence, Dazai then pushed her body closer to him before glaring wordless in silent threat for the depravity that lay behind the drunken man's eyes. 

The stranger then stumbled away in order for the mafioso to hum in acceptance before his hands traveled to his “girlfriend’s” hips as she hummed to the music. “Didn’t think the great executive liked to dance.” 

Smiling under his breath, Dazai lowered his head, meeting her eyes. “What can I say, you’ve inspired me.” 

Yet that's when Asagao’s lips turned into a frown before turning away from his gaze with a mutter. “What am I gonna do, Osu? I can’t go home..Ango is gonna say annoying things again..” 

At the mention of Ango, Dazai felt his throat tick with unpleasant memories. Ah, that’s right. Ango was still staking out her place, hoping she’d come back. Well, it wasn’t like she could show up drunk either, then he’d really have a conniption. 

But it also wasn’t as if he could let the clumsy glasses-wearing girl out free in Yokohama. She couldn’t even find where she was going sober, which meant she definitely wasn’t going to be okay like this. 

Which only left one option left. 

Asagao then felt his lips brush against her ear before she heard Dazai’s next words, the meaning causing her entire body to shiver and her eyes to widen all at once. 

“If you really have nowhere to go then how about you come to my place, sweetheart?” 

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[meraki24601]

Can there pleeeeaaassseeee be a part 2 to Thief (Version 2)

???

Absolutely! I'm glad you enjoyed the first part!

Thief Version 2: Part 2

Part 1

-----------*-***-*-----------

For the week Hero was in and out of consciousness, Villain barely left their bedside. 

Hero had been telling the truth about their revealed identity. Villain had carried Hero into the medical wing of their best facility. Hero’s new bandages had already bled through. One by one, Villain refused each doctor who approached to help. Every one walked up with concern and passion to help in their eyes, but when they saw Hero’s face, determination turned to disgust. Villain couldn’t trust them with Hero. Not a single one. 

Not until Medic showed up. They burst through the med wing doors, complaining about being called in on their day off. They continued complaining as one of the nurses explained the situation, and they approached Villain and the unconscious body in their arms. This time, when they saw who Villain was holding, instead of disgust, Villain could only see sorrow. “Stupid Heroes always cutting my days off short.” They turned and called over their shoulder for someone to bring a stretcher, then turned back and stared Villain in the eyes, “You’re an idiot if you think I’m letting you go back in the OR looking like that. Go clean the blood off yourself. I’ll send for you when they’re in a room.”

Villain glared at Medic, “You do know who I am, correct? You know what will happen if I hear you let Hero die.”

“Yeah, sure, you’re the big bad Villain. I couldn’t care less about anything but saving my patients, so could you put them down already? We need to hurry. Is there anything vital I need to know before I take them back?”

“They’ve been homeless for about two months. I removed a tracker from their arm. They’re definitely malnourished if they’ve lost as much weight as I think they have.” 

“Alright. Thank you. Now get out of here before I kick you out.” With that, Medic turned away, taking Hero with them.

To everyone’s surprise, including Villain’s, they left once Medic and Hero disappeared through the OR doors. True to their word, Medic called the moment Hero was out of surgery. They had removed small pieces of glass from Hero’s back that must have been there since Villain threw them through a window, pulled out a bullet from their side that was most likely put there less than two hours earlier, rebroke and set the bone in Hero’s right leg, treated and sewed up several gashes made by knives and several others that seemed to have been from dog teeth and claws, and treated the many bruises covering their body. They were also under close watch for their concussion, which had been made worse by repeated injury, malnutrition, and dehydration. 

In summary, Medic simply sighed, “The idiot is lucky to be alive, so once you’re clean, you better get back here, 'cause I don’t trust a single one of these nurses to actually take care of them, and I want to go home.”

Villain made a note to make Medic their primary doctor. Back in the hospital wing, they could tell they had paid attention to every detail and worked hard to ensure Hero would live to see tomorrow. 

Like Medic, Hero decided they didn’t trust the nurses either. Outside of an emergency, no one was allowed in Hero’s room unless Villain, Medic, or one of Villain’s three most trusted guards were present. It didn’t matter much since Villain spent all the time they could in the small room with their sleeping nemesis.

They told themselves they stayed because Hero refused to stay asleep. Of course, they weren’t conscious enough of the world around them to know where they were or what had happened to them. It was just enough to cause them to panic and reopen their wounds. By day three, Medic and Villain had decided to strap them to the bed for their own safety. It caused them more stress when they woke, but at least Hero finally started healing.

Hero’s dog was probably the most help through the process. The first few days they had been held at another facility to be cleaned and their wounds treated by a vet Villain called in. After that, Villain decided to bring them in to help Hero heal and keep Villain company. It had surprised Villain when they first saw the dog with their red service dog vest. The animal had been instrumental in calming Hero down.

On day seven, they woke for real.

“Where… am I? Help.” Hero groaned, weakly pulling against the restraints on their wrists.

“Hospital. You’re fine.” Villain said, not looking up from the papers piled in their lap. “Relax. You’re safe now, Hero. Go back to sleep.”

“Who’s there? Let me go.” A small sob, weak and hopeless, drew Villain’s attention up to Hero’s open, squinting eyes. They searched the ceiling above them, blinded by the relatively bright light.

“You’re awake!” Villain gasped, throwing their work aside to lurch for the light. Since it was late, nearly 11 at night, and the curtains were drawn, turning off the bright overhead plunged the room into complete darkness. Cursing quietly as they bumped their knee on the end of Hero’s bed, Villain turned on the softer lamp on the bedside table. 

The few seconds of darkness were too much for the confused Hero. As Villain turned back to them, they realized the mistake. Hero’s eyes were clenched shut, mouth open in a hoarse, silent scream. They pulled at the bindings on their wrists and ankles, close to tearing open the skin despite their weakened state. Villain’s stomach churned at the sight of their Hero, consumed with fear and pain.

“Up,” Villain called to the dog, watching intently from his corner. The animal was instantly on the bed, giving Hero deep pressure therapy. The dog always seemed to know to be careful of Hero’s wounds, and Villain could feel themselves take a deep breath as Hero finally did.

“Edge, you’re here.” Hero gasped, petting the dog where it touched their hand. “Where am I?”

“You’re in one of my facilities.” Villain stepped closer so Hero could see their face. “You collapsed outside one of my stores.”

“Villain!” Hero yelled as much as their ruined voice would allow, “You captured me? I collapsed? I… No. You… You shot me with tranquilizers!” 

“Yes, that most likely was a large contributing factor in your collapse.” Villain laughed slightly as they petted the dog in Hero’s lap. “It’s alright, Hero. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you remember what I told you before you fell asleep?”

Hero shivered, “You said I couldn’t die yet, but I…”

“I did say that, yes. I also said I was going to take care of you. You’re safe now. You don’t have to live on the streets anymore. You don’t have to worry about another villain finding you. I’m going to protect you and show you why I fight against the Hero Agency. Then, once you’ve healed and understand everything, I’m going to ask you to join me.”

Hero gasped, causing them to cough a deep rasping cough that had Villain slipping gentle hands under their back to support them through it. “Relax. I’m not asking you yet, and you do have a choice when the time comes. For now, the main thing you need to do is sleep. Sleep and heal until you’re yourself again.”

#whump fic #whump #whump scenario #whump writing #whump ideas #whump tropes #hero #rescue #villain #villain x hero #medic #hospital #unconscious #neglect #injured

[rozaceous]

the blorbo-ification of korvin kwan

set in a combo of @vermillioncrown's 'the pros and cons of digging your own grave' and my 'a sunset every hour,' i wrote a scene for verm as gift fic, because i was so affronted by how mean the narrative was to My Boy (korvin) and how much i wanted him to get wrapped in a blanket and also have a dental visit. hence the title--i spiritually adopted him in a hopefully less cracked version of 'you lost the rights to your oc bc you were mean to them.' (we've all seen the screenshots of those posts, right???)

so this is allie finding out that dick grayson has been hiding an entire twelve year-old from her. she is not well pleased lmao.

Allie’s pretty sure that she’s timed Dick’s work schedule correctly, but she’s also willing to wait outside the doorstep of his latest safe house until he arrives and soothes her frazzled nerves about his general state of being.

What Allie is not expecting is for not-Dick to answer the door, and especially she isn’t expecting that someone to be a wavy-haired East Asian boy who opens the door but doesn’t undo the chain lock, peering through the gap between door and frame all squinty-eyed.

“Um,” says Allie, eyes flashing to the 302 on the door, which is exactly the number it should be. “I’m…looking for Dick?”

The evaluative quality of the kid’s stare does not diminish. “You’re too young to be a girlfriend.”

She’s helpless against the instant full-face squinch that sentence causes. “We’re more like mutually adopted siblings,” she hazards, voice tight, and regretful that everything regarding the usage of Dick's name sounds inappropriate for the public, especially under-eighteens.

A pause.

“Mr Richard didn’t tell you he underwent child acquisition,” he observes.

“He didn’t, and he’s going to rue that fact until the day he dies.”

“Sounds like siblings, yeah. You’re Allie, then?”

“He talked about me to you but couldn’t be bothered to mention you to me?” she mutters, mostly to herself.

“I was trying to pretend to not-hear him talk to you on the phone. Not really possible in this shoebox.” Some of the squinting eases. “If you can prove who you are, I can let you in until Mr Richard gets back. Otherwise I’m calling the cops.”

Allie is…impressed by that statement, she's pretty sure. “I haven’t got a driver’s license yet, but I’ve got a learner’s permit and a library card. Sufficient evidence?”

A hand pokes through the gap, fingers making grabby motions. Three minutes later has her standing in the kitchen, shoes and coat off, and peering at the meal prep in progress.

“Korvin,” as she’s been informed is the kid’s name, “I know Dickard’s idea of a good meal is take-out, but what the fuck? Do you seriously have to cook it yourself if you want a vegetable?”

“Mr Richard makes sure I get fed,” is the dodgy reply, and Allie knows what covering for someone you don’t want to get in trouble sounds like. So she decides straightforward is best.

“Look, I love Dick to bits,” she tells Korvin. “But his life is held together by silly string, boyish charm, and Barbara. Fuck,” she realizes, pulling her flip phone from her back pocket. She holds the power button until the screen lights on. “Yeah, hope that freaks them both out and gets him over here tout de suite.” She puts her attention back on Korvin, who is regarding her with similar wariness as when he first opened the door. “My point is, if you’re not getting taken care of, you tell me, and I make sure it happens. Capische?”

Korvin seems a little too stunned or cagey or something to reply.

She flips her phone back open and opens her contacts before pressing the device into his hands. “Put your number in and text yourself so you can contact me. Which, by the way, is an ‘anytime’ kind of offer.”

Another, slightly wide-eyed look, and Korvin follows her instruction.

Twenty minutes later and even the way that Dick opens the door tells Allie that he knows he’s about to get the ass-chewing of his life. He slinks through the entry like a dog pretending it doesn’t know a thing about the torn up couch cushions, grinning brightly and waving at her across the apartment where she’s removing vegetables from the oven.

“Hey, Allie!” She’ll give him credit that nervousness makes his voice waver only slightly. “See you and Korv met!”

"Hm."

#verm has been pushing for a different title bc this one makes them shy abt korvin being my blorbo i think #but what are friends for if not adopting your si's as their favoritest guy??? #so for right now the tag is: #tbokk #we've been noodling abt further ideas for this universe too #hasn't gotten much to the writing stage bc verm is in Writing Hell #but if you've got questions we've got answers

[marvels-bitch-boy]

☃️ Request Version 2

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: this took me a while to finish and this is my first attempt at anything spicy. Let me know how to improve it!

Masterlist , Version 2

Jesus Christ of all the people you could have fallen for you thought it was a good idea to fall for your best friend? Wanda Maximoff is literally the sweetest and most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Anytime the two of you hang out there’s this tension that you swear is there, she sits close to you, at parties she doesn’t leave your side, when a girl hits on you she is the first to intervene and rescue you. It’s like she knows you hate being without her. The last two months though the entire team doesn’t seem to have caught the memo that she wasn’t interested in dating. She’s had to reject 10 guys so far that everyone brings to dinners or parties. At this point, it was starting to annoy you because there wasn’t an event that you could enjoy without some creep hitting on her. A few times she had you pretend to be her boyfriend to scare them off. Those were times when you felt like there might be a chance between the two of you. Like there was a world where you were one of the guys that got set up with her. The chance to show her what she deserves from a guy. The only problem with that is the whole team completely forgets about you when they make those decisions, and you don’t want to ruin any of the great parts of your friendship. 

You were sitting with Wanda on the couch in the common room watching an old black and white movie you had been begging her to watch with you. One Two Three was the name of it and as soon as you said it was your favourite movie she couldn’t have agreed faster. She sat next to you as she always did but it felt different. It was most likely just you because she seemed as comfortable as ever. You looked down and saw her eyes light up from the action happening on the screen in front of you. The sight made this movie even better, the joy it brought her seemed to solidify its spot in your heart. You smiled as she laughed and commented on the ridiculousness of the film. When the “itsy bitsy polka dot bikini” song began to play you enthusiastically jumped up and began to dance. This made her laugh even harder, you knew the words by heart and would hum it on almost every mission. Now she knew exactly where you got it from. Her clapping that followed the beat was only encouraging you to dance more and soon you lifted her up to dance along. She was having trouble keeping up as she continued to laugh. You loved this more than the movie itself. Once the song ended you plopped back down onto the couch in a fit of laughter, she landed almost directly on top of you which only strengthened the fit of laughs and giggles coming from the two of you. This was a moment you wouldn’t trade for the world. Having your best friend by your side as you watch your favourite movie, laughing and dancing was one of the things you wouldn’t sacrifice. Even if there was a slight chance she felt the same you couldn’t risk losing this. You’ve never felt like this for someone and you would take whatever you could get from her. 

The fridge door opening caught your attention and your laughter ceased, you became more serious and Wanda rolled her eyes at this. She jabbed you in the side before turning around to face the person. “Tony?” she taken aback by his appearance at the compound since he no longer lived there “Isn’t it alittle late for you to be here?” This caught your attention and you finally realized the time. It was well past 11pm and you rarely ever stayed up this late. Deciding to chime in you smirked at him “You get kicked out by Pepper again?” he mocked laughter before he murmured a small “yes” which made you crack a real smile. Wanda however paused the movie and motioned for him to join the two of you. You flashed her panicked eyes and she glared at you which immediately made you shrink. 

“What’s the story here? All I see is communism and Coca-Cola” you rolled your eyes and sighed before resounding “That's what makes it funny… and the rushing to convert the communist to Coca-Cola” you chuckled at the last part. Wanda however apparently didn’t see the movie as either of the two. 

“There a love that no one seems to think will work but in the end they do, and theres also a lesson about acceptance,” she looks back to you “and learning to take risks.” that last part felt very directed at you. You shyly nodded your head and went to continue the movie but Tony again interupted. “So Witchy, you rejected the guy Natasha brought to dinner. I have someone who you’ll love, he’s sweet, smart, good looking, loves old movies and shows, has a good job, And! He happens to be a good friend” your heart started to jump at each word he spoke. Theres no way that Tony was the one to finally give you a chance, he had been trying to set her up with every shield agent in the compound. Maybe he saw the way you were together tonight. He saw the way you looked at her and he saw something you were missing in how she felt for you. “Tony, I’m not interested in anyone you guys set me up with. I’m fine with just my friends” she pats your thigh which sends a shiver along you and your entire body stiffens like a peice of ply wood only for a second. 

“Maybe hear him out, the guy sounds okay…” you hoped you were making the right decision, praying to whatever being was there that this tin can wouldn’t screw you over. Attempting to ease her nerves you held her hand in yours “Look, if it doesn’t go well I’ll be ready with a bat or some Sokovian snacks.” she seemed to relax at your touch and looked back to Tony “fine, but only once.” he jumps up victoriously. You have a sneaking suspicion that you just got fucked over by the giant dancing baby infront of you. Internally cursing yourself you unpaused the movie and settled back into the couch, Wanda settled into your side and you felt like maybe just maybe you’d be the one she ends up with.

—

As the music rages on at yet another stark party you find yourself alone for the first time that night. Wanda hadn’t been answering your messages all night and you had begun to get concerned. You looked around to attempt to see her auburn red hair anywhere in the crowd of people. You would have thought she stood out like the sun on a cloudy day. She had never left you alone at any avengers function, no matter who had been vying for her attention she never left your side. Tonight though seemed to be different. Tony had approached you earlier in the night with a man directly behind him who you noticed was dressed almost exactly like you, even his hair was styled similarly to yours. Questioning him about it led to nowhere -as always. 

As you attempted to find the red witch in the crowd you were pulled towards the bar by a small pair of hands that you had assumed belonged to her, but when you faced the woman you found a random pair of chestnut brown eyes that greeted you with over-blown pupils. This was not at all someone you recognized. “Uh… hi?” you attempted to be polite as you were stuck between the bar and this woman. “Can I help you?” She laughed and her breath alerted you to her inebriated state even more. 

“I saw you from across the room… you’re very very handsome” she slightly slurred her last few words and you gently attempted to keep her stable as she swayed for a moment. This caused a coy smile to appear on her face. “So strong” you gave her an obviously uncomfortable smile and attempted to guide her to a seat but she forced you down onto it and took the spot in your lap. Now you were getting very uncomfortable. You’ve had these things happen but by now you’d already have been rescued by Wanda and laughing about the situation together, though you were alone now, forced to figure your way out by yourself. 

When she reached for another drink you stopped her and in a panic, you drank the whole glass and she cheered you on. You looked at the bartender of the night and asked for two vodka redbulls, you felt like you would have to be an awake drunk tonight. She saw the look on your face and quickly produced two glasses full. As you chugged the glasses you looked around the room once again hoping to find Wanda on her path towards you to rescue you from this absolute stranger. Instead, you were greeted by her smile and laugh as she sat on a couch with a random man. You felt jealousy fill you and your heart began to sink. Your distraught appearance was caught by her eyes and she looked between you and the woman on your lap once you saw this you looked away from her and back to the woman. Plastering on a smile and placing a hand on her thigh -an act that made your skin crawl and felt so unlike you. As you sat there attempting to not give Wanda any of your attention and keep focused on the person in your lap there was a tap on your shoulder and the sound of someone's throat being cleared, turning around you found Sam with pursed lips and eyes that communicated to you his exact reasoning for being there. 

“Y/N!” he said through a gritted smile “Maria was looking for you. Now.” you didn’t need any more from the man and began to excuse yourself from the woman who whined as you left her. Sam gave you a smile as you kept walking along with him and patted your shoulder. You reached the only quiet part of the room and you were greeted by Maria sitting in a corner tending to a scotch. As you joined her Sam sat on the armrest of the loveseat and questioned you on what he had to save you from. “A pretty girl was on your lap and you looked like you were being mauled by a bear, what's up with that?” his brows connected with the expression he made and you wanted to laugh but you were still recovering from the uncomfortable situation. 

“I don’t do that, I like to take things slow…” you saw Maria nod her head at your words but Sam didn’t seem like he was buying what you were selling “and she wasn’t the person I would let -do that” That on the other hand had him convinced, he looked around the room and you shook your head, “oh no you don’t nope! No, you’re not gonna guess” 

“Ah! How’d you know I was doing that?” he grinned at you and it changed your mood, how could anyone not be in a good mood when Sam is there? He was the second person you had met when you joined the team and he was also the second closest person to you. So far to your knowledge, he didn’t know about your feelings for Wanda and you wanted to keep it that way. He was notorious for trying to play matchmaker, he once tried to set up Maria and Steve… that was an interesting month. 

“You can’t seem to butt out of my romances… which don’t exist might I add” that last bit made Maria laugh slightly and Sam gained an offended look on his face. Shaking his head and grabbing an empty bottle that sat on a nearby table he set it down. 

“You won’t tell me, fine we’ll figure it out the old fashion way” You looked at him cautiously as he spun the bottle and waited for it to land on one of the three of you. It was just your luck that it stopped dead in front of you. Fuck. there was no way he would let this go if you told him, and he would most certainly keep this up until you did. He exchanged looks with Maria and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. His expression changed and you saw the mischievous grin he had plastered on his face. “Truth or Dare.” He spoke not as a question but a statement, you knew you had to answer in some way. 

You took a quick glance at Maria who had a knowing look on her face, did she know? How would she? You groaned and looked at the ceiling as you contemplated your choice. “Dare… Was going to happen anyway” Sam cackled for a moment as he stood up and looked around the room and set his eyes on something you couldn’t see. “Alright big man, I want you to go and make a move on the girl you so desperately-”. You interjected “Desperate? Who-”. “-want so badly… if it doesn’t work out let us know, we’ll forget this whole thing”. 

You didn’t believe him on the last bit but you could easily pretend or come up with a lie to say you tried. After all, how would they know? This way you didn’t have to tell them it was Wanda. Nodding your head you stood up and shook hands with the cheeky man. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?” he made a faux look of hurt and clutched his chest “You kiss your mystery girl with that mouth” you rolled your eyes and walked away from the two who gave you a few small cheers as you made your way across the room. Within almost a few seconds you were met with the red auburn hair that plagued your mind. You felt the warmth radiate off her as you waited for her to turn around even a milimeter. When she did you found her dancing with a man that seemed slightly familiar- for fucks sake Tony! It was the man he had been trying to set Wanda up with, you remembered him from the earlier encounter at the bar. You felt a swarm of jealousy cover you like a bee hive over a keeper. You wanted to rip him away from her but she quickly saw you and stopped dead in her tracks, her face filled with embarrassment that quickly changed to guilt as she looked in your eyes. You felt the sour look on your face sear into her mind and you began to walk away. The door to the hallway was farther than you remembered at the beginning of the night, the people around you seemed to make a clear path in your mind. Suddenly you were stopped by Tony who had a concerned look, you attempted to walk past him and muttered small insults at the man but he ignored them. “Wanda doesn’t look to good… take her back to her room? She asked for you” he had to slightly yell the second half of his request as the music pounded into your skull. As much as you wanted to be upset with the girl she had no idea of your feelings, she wasn’t to blame here, infact no one was… except you. Nodding he guided you towards her as she sat on the edge of the couch and seemed to perk up as she saw Tony with you. Placing a hand on her forehead you felt her temperature was higher than it should be and you gently guided her to stand up. She moved like a wet spaghetti noodle with how flimsy she was. “Hey, red…” she nuzzled close to you and you sighed as you picked her up in your arms. Her breath hit the raw skin of your neck and almost made you stumble as you walked. Steadying yourself with the idea that she was too intoxicated to control her actions you made your way into the hallway. One of your hands made small circles on her back as you carried her along, attempting to soothe her in her current state. As you passed your room she seemed to whine as you continued. 

“No… I want Y/N’s bed” she spoke softly into your ear and that made your heart almost burst -even if it was slurred. You stopped and looked down at her and the sight made your willpower crumble like an ancient statue. “I want Y/N.” a small smile hit your lips and you turned around back in the direction of your room. “I’m here, don’t worry koldovskoy I’m not going anywhere”. 

—

As you set her down on your bed you felt her temperature once again but she began to squirm. She wiggled her way into an upright position and you asked her what was wrong. She simply said “Clothes” and began to reach for her zipper on her back. She struggled and you stifled a laugh as you reached to help. She swatted you away and for a moment you feared you had crossed a boundary, she usually allowed you to help her when the night became this blurry and she had said on multiple occasions she trusted you, instead she rubbed her eyes and spoke “only Y/N can do that…he’s gentle” this made you laugh at her words, no one else on the team would even use that word to describe you. You were known to cause damage to the compound, and rip clothes whenever you couldn’t make them fit, hell Tony had to reinforce your phone because you kept destroying them. She was the first person to call you gentle. When you looked back at her she gave you an offended look. “Don’t laugh at him!” you stopped and gave her a soft smile. 

“Okay… what else do you think he is?” you weren’t going to lie, this made you curious but you also hoped she didn’t answer, whatever she would say to you wouldn’t be fully truthful. She isn’t in a conscious state of mind, you didn’t want to find out what she thought about you while she was also attempting to rip her dress off. She let out a huff and began talking, you stood up and rummaged through your clothes in the half-lit room. Grabbing her a nightshirt and a pair of pyjama pants as you listened. “He’s sweet, handsome, -and he is sooooo funny. Tony said I should ask him out,” you stopped moving altogether, what? “-oh! He also liked old movies, and he’s handsome” the repeating of her words didn’t help you regain any composure as she sunk into your pillows. You snapped back into reality and lightly nudged her the clothes you expected her to go into the bathroom or something to change but she somehow managed to unzip herself partially, you took in a sharp breath and went back to your clothes and didn’t turn around as you rushed to the bathroom to change yourself. You mouthed curses at yourself as you remained confused and perplexed at her words. 

Leaving the bathroom in your captain america pyjamas you found a sight that wasn’t unfamiliar. Wanda laying in your bed cuddled up under the covers. You decided to take the floor on the bottom of the bed, you didn’t want her to wake up hungover in the same bed as you, -which wasn’t an uncommon thing but you felt like things between the two of you needed to change, especially if you were going to get over her. Right as you closed your eyes you heard her speak up once again “I can’t sleep” you looked over and saw her fling the covers off herself “It’s so cold…” just as quick as her words left her mouth she was asleep. Or so you thought.

—

As you were in your dream fighting off a field of bears with Viking armour you suddenly felt yourself lose your breath. You began to attempt to catch your breath and you ended up waking yourself up as you had attempted to breathe. Your eyes remained closed but you could feel a weight on your chest that was warm and seemed to completely surround you. Your nose filled with a familiar scent and you finally opened your eyes. Shit. That was the first thought you had as you opened your eyes. You found the woman who you finally realized was actually interested in you and was now resting her head on your chest. How the fuck did I end up in my bed?! I fell asleep on the floor. Her head moved and you froze in place not wanting to wake her up while you were in this position. Slowly as she moved her head off of your chest you carefully exited the bed like a snake and slithered onto the floor and ran into the bathroom to hide for a moment. Her voice softly called out for you only a second later. 

“Y/N?...” her voice seemed different. It wasn’t the way she usually called out to you, it was soft. You quietly spoke from the bathroom “Give me a second, I’ll be right back” you splashed your face with handfuls of water and started gulping down as much from the faucet as you could. You could feel the hum of a hangover leaning over you. You didn’t drink more than a few glasses, how the hell do you feel like shit now? Opening the door and walking back to your bed your feet hit the cold empty glasses that seemed to litter your floor. Confusion etched onto your face and you continued to make a path silently to your bed. Laying down and encasing yourself with the blanket you were caught off guard for a second as you registered who was still in your bed. Holy shit. This is real, and you were in bed with Wanda. You felt her hands roam your torso. 

Wait. 

You didn’t have a shirt, or pants on. You remember going to bed in pyjamas. 

The feeling of her pressed against you under the covers was soothing. And her voice almost sent you back into a deep sleep. “So warm” her words were stretched out, as if they were a cat waking up from a nap. She was just as warm as you. Your hand moved to her thigh that had was already draped over you. Running circles on her back and her thigh, your hand acted as though it already knew how she liked it. 

You two layed there until 10am when there was a knock at your door. You grogily got out of bed once again and navigated the maze of bottles that littered your floor. Grabbing the first shirt you saw and slinging it on before answering the door. Opening it you came face to face with Sam. SHIT SAM!

He looked at you with a mischievous grin and attempted to enter the room but you kept the doorway blocked. He raised an eyebrow before he looked you up and down and pursed his lips as he held in a smile. “You uh… have fun last night?” you rolled your eyes and go out into the hallway with him. You close the door softly hoping not to wake Wanda who was still fast asleep in your bed. Whispering to Sam in an almost yelling manner “Sam… please tell me you had an after party in my room because I have no idea how I now have so many empty bottles… and a girl in my bed” The last part of the sentence dropped his jaw and he yelled out in excitement, you quickly covered his mouth shushed him as loud as you could while whispering “Shut the fuck up! She’s sleeping!!” he nodded and you dropped your hand from his mouth. “What are you doing here? I don’t have training today and we don’t have a meeting” 

He looked at you with a smug expression. “I came to see if you were dead after all the booze you had me bring you…and your special friend -which by the way,” he pointed at you “you wouldn’t tell me who! Tried to ask you a few times and you laughed” You felt the memory break through your mind and rush to the surface.

—

You left the company of Wanda sitting on the floor with you and answered the door. Sam stood there slightly dishevelled, his pupils were blown and it was very obvious he was on his way to bed after his delivery. He handed you three multipacks of assorted drinks and some snacks, placing the multipacks inside you closed the door just enough to hide the full view of Wanda and thanked him. He attempted to lean over and get a glimpse at your mystery woman but you moved the door and smirked at him. He tried to question “Who’s the lucky lady?” you shook your head in defiance and winked at him before giggling like a giddy kid and shutting the door. You turned around and saw Wanda begin to laugh at the sight of you and take a swig of the malt you had been saving. “Guess I must be your lucky lady…” you stood there and looked at her. “I think I’m the lucky one right now” taking a drink out of the multipack you take a gulp of it and sit down next to her. “Now where did we leave off??...right!” you grab the remote and unpause the movie. You two weren’t actually paying attention to the movie instead you were progressively getting drunker and performing horrendous imitations of the characters on screen and mocking their decisions. 

—

Oh fuck. Did you flirt with her? You’ve never flirted with Wanda before. Oh, this night was definitely weird. You turned back to Sam “Yeah… about that sorry man, I kinda can’t tell you… yeah, bye!” quickly turn around and dashed for your door, slamming it in front of him as he tries to catch you. You definitely woke her up now. 

Standing in the entry way of your room and the light peaking through the curtains of your windows you get a good look at Wanda. She is laying deeply under the covers and you could have sworn she looked like the most beautiful person in the entire world. Taking a step forward warily incase she opens her eyes and is startled by you. She isn’t, she groans as she covers her head with the blanket. She speaks slightly muffled under the covers “get rid of the sun… and please tell me sam didn’t need me” You chuckle at her words and honestly you would make sure the sun never shined again if that is what she truly wanted. “No, he didn’t need you -he wanted to make sure I wasn’t dead after last night” she peaks out of the cover when she hears you closing the curtains even more. “Why? What happened?” you freeze in place and look at her, did she not remember? Or did she -much like you- have it all trapped under the surface in her mind? 

Reaching down you grab the pair of pyjamas that you had given her last night off the floor, the slight flash of hands ripping them off her body came to the front of your mind. “Not much, I don’t remember that much” handing them to her your fingers touch slightly and theres a twist in your gut at the contact. “I-uh, I’m gonna…just go shower real quick,” you swallow hard as she sits up and you notice her full lack of clothes “do you wanna- would you want to go after me? -or do you want to go back to your room…” your words trail off and you thought for a moment that she had a look of confliction, not just on a simple decision but in the way she sees you. Her eyes had slipped down you for a second before slingshotting back up to your face and her expression changed. “Yeah…-I’ll go after you,” she gave you a smile and you nodded before turning around and stepping over the bottles once again. Cursing yourself for going so overboard the night before. As you discard the shirt that you now realize is one that Wanda had left in your room days before. Turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat up you look in the mirror and notice something. Multiple large red and purple marks on the base of your neck, shoulder, and collar bones. You looked like a bruised cow. Touching them and they don’t feel like bruises. Another part of the night comes to mind.

—

Eventually, you two reach the rom-com section of cheesy movies and the drunker you are the closer you two get. While Wanda mocks the lead actress of the movie you catch yourself staring at her lips, not even going up to see her eyes but rather zoned in on what she is saying and the smile she had. “Who even falls for the best friend in real life anymore?!” her words dragged you out of your frozen state. Her comment on the storyline had you nervously laughing “no one, it's all just in movies, those are who fall for their best friends”  

You tried to add to her point “And books…only ever works out in books” Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own and they dart to her lips once again. She whispered something you couldn’t understand and started to slowly lean in. Your mind went blank you and you froze once again as she made contact with your lips. She pulled away quickly but your brain seemed to catch up and you slammed your lips back against hers. The taste of the alcohol on her lips added to the feeling of weightlessness. Your hand came up and cupped her face, while the other wrapped around her hip and pulled her close to you. 

—

“Oh shit” you whispered out and your hands came up to your face. “I’m fucked” slipping off your boxers and slipping into the warm water you feel a sting as it runs down your back, a sharp yell leaves your throat as your body moves on autopilot to escape the water. “JeSUs FUcK!!” jumping out of the shower you stand away from the mirror, stretching yourself to get a good look at your back you see long red marks and a few open cuts along with them. Your eyes widen as you try to think back on the night. It hits you and you let your head go ‘thunk’ against the wall. Sighing deeply you enter the shower once again as the fuzzy memory comes to you. 

—

You’re hoisting Wanda up onto the bed and her legs wrap around your waist as your kisses deepen into a hungry battle. The two of you attempt to bring the other closer. It slightly fades from your mind and then suddenly you are over a topless Wanda who suddenly flips you. Drunken giggles release from both of you and within seconds you are kissing with both your smiles pressed against the other. Your pyjama pants were already gone from view and so was your shirt. Or was it? Your mind starts to meld and soon you are faced with the image of Wanda against your neck and the memory of her body against yours. Breathing heavily you move in tandem with her hips.

—

Finishing up the shower you dry off and pick up your clothes, entering into the rest of the room you notice Wanda had left and you feel a twist in your stomach, like something just feel from a thousand feet in the air on your heart and it fell through every other organ. The dryness in your throat came to and your mind swirled with worry as you began to think of why she left. You know you didn’t take too long in the shower -you actually finished it faster than usual-, maybe she started to find pieces of the night just as you were. That made the knot even worse. Quickly you got dressed and rushed out of your door. Blowing past Sam in the hallway, Bruce in his lab and as you round the corner into the kitchen you collide right with who you were searching for. Wanda. “Shit” The impact had knocked one of the drinks in her hand and spilled all over the both of you. Discarding your shit that was only half wet you attempted to use it to dry her off before slight giggling from Tony could be heard behind you as he walked past. 

“Nice battle scars…” fuck me. Thats all you can say to yourself as you realize what he is referring to. “Who’d yo get them from” he takes a sip of his coffee with a coy look on his face. 

“No one, I uh… must have fallen or something last night” You see Pietro approach you with a spare shirt that he had run to grab as soon as you tore off your own. Unbeknownst to you Wandas eyes were locked on the marks that decorated you and she began to connect the dots. Putting up a front she looked away and headed back into the kitchen. You tried to follow her as you slipped the new shirt on, but quickly Maria pulled you aside by your ear as you almost reached Wanda. She took you down the hallway and into supply closet. “What the fuck did you do last night?” you looked at her with the widest of eyes and the dullest of brains behind them.

“Nothing…” she hit your chest with a smack “Don’t lie to me,” her finger was pointing into your chest now “I can tell something happened between you two, now spill!” you swallow what is left of your pride, and take a deep breath. “I have some faint memories of it, -like a few non PG memories…” you scratch the back of your head as you try to wrack your mind “I’m pretty sure we slept together, but I don’t know if she remembers it or not” 

Maria looks at you with exasperation “okay… are you blind?? Because the way she was walking out of your room I could see what happened” you felt yourself go red with embarrassment. “Do you think she’s upset with me?”  She sighed and averted your gaze. “I don’t think so…but if you ignore this for too long she might think you are” 

God dammit. 

Standing there after Maria left the cramped space you thought for a second. You’ve had these feelings for Wanda held up inside forever, you’ve wanted to hold her and kiss her since the first day you met her. You finally got to but you barely remember it and you don’t even know if she remembered it too. Theres a fear that lingers in your mind that she regrets it, that the friendship you two built so delicately formed and that this had ruined it. You leave the closet and walk into the kitchen. Looking for Wanda you scan the room but you’re unable to find her. Leaving with a huff you head back to your room. Your head was pounding and you had a stash of advil in your nightstand. 

As you open your door you hear the water running in your bathroom. The sound of someone in the shower scared you for a moment before you knocked on the door. The sound of the water stopping and footsteps you recognized approach the door sent a chill across you. She opened the door and within second you were face to face with Wanda covered in water droplets and draped in your towel. You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked over her. Your surprise was written on your face and she panicked for a moment, apologizing for using your shower and attempting to get past you. You put a hand out and stop her. Looking down at her you ask her the question that is tugging at you “do you remember last night?” she opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off as you know that look on her face all too well “-don’t lie, please… don’t lie”  the two of you were close. Close enough that you could feel her breath on your skin, you could feel the beat of her heart as she stared up at you. 

She looked at you, a mix of fear and nerves decorated her face. You had matched her nerves now. Her expression shifted “Do you?” you looked at her lips and back to her eyes. The distance between you felt like there was none. Your mouth felt dry, your palms were sweaty, and your hangover was arriving with a passion. “I-um, I remember alot” you avoided her eyes as you spoke to her. “-What about you?” you’re holding your breath as you wait for her answer. It feels like it takes ages. 

“Me too…” your hand that had been blocking her went to her waist. 

“Do you have any regrets?” her eyes flickered down to your lips and her breath hitched. She shook her head and you leaned down. You whispered against her lips “neither do I” and this time your kiss wasn’t rushed, it was slow and full of all the emotions and love you had held for her in your heart. Her hands weaved through your hair and you felt a sense of deja vu, you held her closer than you could last night. Yours bodies disconnected but not your lips. You felt her hands leave your hair and play with the hem of your shirt. They disappear under and within seconds she’s tugging it off you and over your head. You release a giggle as her cold hands run over your skin. You guide her farther into the bathroom by her hips and close the door with your free hand. 

The two of you finally got what you wanted. To be in the arms of the one you love.

#wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff fic #marvel one shot #scarlet witch fanfiction #scarlet witch x m!y/n #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x male!reader #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x ftm!reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x trans male reader #x marvel male reader #marvel male reader insert #marvel male reader #x trans reader #ftm reader #x male reader #male reader insert #M-B-B request

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Twice Upon a Time - Neverafter Ep 1

The Times of Shadow

What is up y’all? A new season of D20 has started and I’ve been lured back to recapping by the siren song of fractured fairy tales. Fairy tales are one of my first loves (my thesis project for school right now is a fairy tale retelling in fact) and it’s very exciting to see that the D20 crew is digging into the darker side of these foundational stories.

I hesitated in starting recapping this season because as much as I love doing these, it’s a big time commitment and I am A Busy Person BUT the premiere ep was just so fun that I couldn’t resist. So, here’s the deal. I will do my best to keep up but no promises, OK? And I’ll be messing around with the formatting a bit to see if there’s a way to make the process a bit easier for me so bear with me.

And with that we start our story in the only way we really can…

Once Upon a Time.

Rosamund Du Prix (Siobhan’s PC)

We start with Brennan mesmerizingly telling the traditional tale of Sleeping Beauty–it goes down exactly like the Disney version. Three fairies. A fourth who isn’t invited and crashes the party after the first two have given their gifts and curses the baby princess to prick her finger on a spindle on her 18th birthday, killing her. The third fairy uses her gift to soften the curse so death turns into a 100 year sleep. Parents try to protect her by getting rid of all the spinning wheels but magic’s gotta magic and on her 18th birthday she finds a spinning wheel in an old tower and pricks herself anyway. She falls into a deep sleep as does the rest of the kingdom and the kingdom–the kingdom of Reverie–is covered in briars. 

Rosamund (who I will be calling Roz) wakes up, 100 years later, unable to close her eyes or mouth because of the briars that are growing out of her body and all around her, completely encasing her. Everyone at the tables is visibly and audibly gagging at the description which I will spare you. Roz is horribly claustrophobic but also feels a weird sense that she’s holding something that feels like a troubling sort of sixth sense (not fully explained but I’m wondering if it’s some kind of Ranger ability because she is a level 1 Ranger). 

She manages to get a hand free with minimal damage to herself (one fairy did give her the gift of grace after all) and painfully pulls the briars out of her mouth and nose. As she does, she hears whispers in her own head that she can’t understand and which stop when the root of the briars are out of her stomach.

Roz shakes the Briars that surround her, looking for the prince who was supposed to rescue her from this fate and, as she does this, pricks her finger. A tendril of the massive plant pokes out and drinks her blood, giving her a vision of the hundreds of corpses of the princes who have tried and failed to rescue her. The briars seem to think they are keeping her safe from the world outside and are fearful to let her go.

Now, well past the point of uneasiness, she tries to tell the plants thank you for the hospitality but it’s time for her to go. The plants do not agree and after she fails at trying to lull them to sleep with a lullaby, the plants try to stick her with the spindle and put her back to sleep. There is a bit of a tussle which ends with her diving out of her tower window and barely making it to the bottom in one piece. When she calls out to see if anyone is around, she gets no answer and decides to make her way out of Reverie–a process that takes months of traversing the thorny landscape. The kingdom seems fully destroyed. 

By the time she escapes, she is in *rough* shape and she’s fashioned herself a bow of thorns. 

[Note: Sleeping Beauty as a ranger is an interesting take. I wonder if she’s going to go Beastmaster for the traditional Princess With Animal Companion? Maybe Drakewarden if she wants to play with the Maleficent angle from the Disney version. Would be pretty cool to take on some of the traits of your captor–and she does already have the thorny bow. Fey Wanderer is an option because she was fey-touched upon being born.]

Now, in the present, Roz is a part of a traveling caravan in a wagon that’s going to the town of Shoeberg. In her wagon, she finds something damp and unpleasant being covered by a threadbare blanket and when she removes the blanket, she finds herself a surprise.

Gerard of Greenleigh (Murph’s PC)

Ger is prince turned frog turned prince turning back into a frog. He’s at the halfway stage so he’s still human height and build but with huge bulbous human eyes and damp, mottled, green skin.

He still has the bearing of a prince though and quickly identifies who he is and insists that his situation is temporary. Roz realizes that she’s related to him via marriage (“I think we’re cousins 3 times”) and is happy to join the self-gaslighting about how everything is fine and good and will be back to normal soon enough. They’re royals after all.

Ger says that though his kingdom is taken and his wife is missing, everything is fine and the fact that he’s turning back into a frog has NOTHING to do with his relationship with his wife which is FINE–something that Boffit (the trollson manager of the caravan who tells them they’re stopping for the night) doesn’t really buy. 

From there we’re thrust into Ger’s flashback. 

It is post-curse break and he’s doing pretty well. Except, he’s starting to realize that his frog traits are coming back. First his throat swelling. Then his eyes start migrating to frog positions. Then his tongue gets all stretchy. (“We fixed this though,” he says with a pathetic but kind of charming dismayed petulance). He tries to ignore the changes, even as he has a tense dinner with his wife–Princess Elody. Elody is discussing war-time matters with three of her generals–the kingdom is at war with Snowhold, the kingdom of the ice queen–but Ger just wants to talk about the upcoming ball and leave the unpleasantness to the soldiers. 

Elody is baffled by her husband’s lack of interest in actively protecting the kingdom and his desire to hole up in the castle while others fight and die for them. It’s the Time of Shadow, she says. Never After is being overrun with giants and witches and sea creatures! Why is he so content to coast on their supposed happily ever after? Though Ger clearly isn’t the fiercely protective active ruler she is, he says he’ll try to take a look at his fencing books. And she says that she’ll try to give him what she can. But that night, she doesn’t come to bed because she falls asleep at her war table with her generals. And the next morning, Ger’s nose is gone. Bad!

[Note: Ger is a fighter. I don’t really have a good guess on his subclass. I am fascinated by his relationship drama with his wife, though. I really hope she shows up again soon because the dynamic of these two people being in love but having such opposed life philosophies is very interesting–especially when it’s having the mechanical consequence of forcing Ger to turn back into a frog. To be in denial about how things are going as you’re literally turning into a frog is so indicative of character.]

Back in the present, we shift to another carriage in the caravan–a very nice shoe being pulled by 4 white horses. Inside is the pompous Lord Bandlebridge of Shoeberg who is toasting two figures–a cat wearing a cape and boots and a puppet of a little wooden boy (with a splintered nose–I’m guessing it was removed to allow for lying without an obvious tell). 

Through a back and forth, we learn that Puss in Boots (also known as Pib to his friends–I’ll be going with Pib or Puss interchangeably) and Pinocchio are scamming this man. They’ve told him that Pinocchio is actually a prince who stole 40 pennies from a witch and was cursed to be a puppet. They just need to borrow 40 gold pieces to break the curse and then they’ll pay him back in platinum. Lord B is so desperate to believe the story that he doesn’t look too deeply into it and goes with everything they say. 

Puss finds that he is very hungry and slips into a flashback.

Puss in Boots (Zac’s PC)

Pib is living the good life in the Kingdom of Marienne. He’s straight up chilling on a pillow in a shaft of sunlight and his breakfast is brought to him–100 live mice! 

The king comes in to talk to him privately and, as soon as they’re alone, starts freaking out. This is the miller’s son–Tomas–who in the traditional Puss in Boots story–is thrust into king-ship by Puss’s trickery. That’s all well and good but now it’s wartime and Tomas doesn’t have any idea how to run a country! Giants are attacking. He doesn’t know statecraft! He can barely read! And he loves his wife but he’s been tacitly lying to her for years and it’s all getting to be far too much. 

Pib just brushes it off and is like, hey buddy. Don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.

Spoiler alert: It is not fine. 

The kingdom falls to giants and Puss flees. And he has no idea what happened to Tomas and his wife. 

[Note: Puss is a tabaxi re-skin and a rogue. Also don’t have a guess/hope in mind for subclass but I do love the bringing of the Puss In Boots story to its logical conclusion of–yeah, this guy doesn't know how to run a country. Of COURSE it’s gonna end badly the second times are bad and you can’t let the kingdom run on autopilot.]

Back in the present, Pinocchio is being a little brat and rubbing Lord B the wrong way. To calm him down, Pib calls Lord B his best friend and hugs him–checking his pockets as he does and finding a scroll which he notes but doesn’t steal. 

Now, we check in on the third carriage in the caravan. Inside are two figures–”Mother” Timothy Goose and Ylfa Snorgelsson (better known as Little Red Riding Hood). Red knows Tim because he’s an older guy who used to read stories in her village. When things “got bad” (we’ll get to that) she met up with him. 

They both get the announcement that the caravan is stopping for the night from Boffit (and that payment will be due in Shoeberg which is a problem because they don’t really have money). They have to stop in the Blackwoods (a primeval forest) which isn’t safe and they both offer to help with keeping watch (Red clearly being the more physically capable of the two). 

As they stop, they also see two notable carriages that haven’t been mentioned before (a teapot drawn by a giant rabbit–clear Wonderland ref–and an uncovered chariot drawn by a ram with an older gentleman in it). They also see the shoe carriage which sparks their interest because Tim has this magic book that he writes words in that disappear. But the word “Shoe” stuck. So it has to be somehow relevant to his quest. 

They go talk to Lord B who is going off about how much of a thriving metropolis Shoeberg is even in these hard times. While he does this, the guy in the ram chariot calls him a fucking idiot under his breath. Tim tries to respond to Lord B but is haunted by a vision of something behind Lord B and flips out, calling it a fucker and a piece of shit–freaking out Lord B so much that he runs off. 

“I saw him again,” he confesses to Red and we jump into his flashback.

“Mother” Timothy Goose (Ally’s PC)

The Lullaby Lands are a really sweet place that’s mainly farmers and animals and doesn’t need a king or a queen to rule it. 

Tim walks home with his son's bones in his arms.

His husband–Henry Hubbard–is horrified as Tim explains that their son, Jack, didn’t actually find whatever egg he said he found and was clearly mixed up with something shady. Tim said he saw Jack talking to some giant, black, demonic looking gander (a male goose) and say “I need my third wish” and then watched him age rapidly into the pile of bones he’s holding. 

Then the gander said, “Do you wish to know what just happened?” and when Tim said yes, he was trapped in his own set of three wishes. He then wished for something to get his son back and was given the leather-bound book we saw him with before. 

As a veteran bard and witch, Tim isn’t a stranger to magic. He opens the book, looking for an answer and finds the pages blank. Undeterred, he starts writing in the book and finds that everything he writes in the book disappears except for the word Jack that sticks. 

He writes all day long and in the back of his head he hears the demonic whisper, “There’s no way you’ll find them all in time, Goose.”

Eventually, he notices a stain on the floor of the house where his son made a mess as a younger child, jumping over a candle and tries to just describe the person he wants. His son. He writes in his book the nursery rhyme (which it seems like he wrote in the world about his son) Jack be Nimble, Jack be quick, etc. 

As he does, light fills the room and he sees a window open in the pages through which he sees his son, healthy and well and in a version of Pottingham that doesn’t seem afflicted by the floods tormenting it IRL.

“Dad I’m still here,” the Jack on the page says. “[The book] can save more than me. You’ll save them, I know you will.” Before he can say more, he is cut off and starts running. The book in the story sticks and Jack’s bones disappear in motes of golden light. 

Tim realizes he has a LOT of work to do.

[Note: Tim is a bard. I could see College of Lore. Maybe Eloquence or Spirits? Also, I HATED how he got roped into his wishes. That’s some fey/lawyer B.S. “Do you wish to know?” Get out of here with that B.S. I hate the gander. All my homies hate the gander.]

Back in the present, the three groups of PCs are starting to get acquainted. Pinocchio introduces himself as a prince and, as a princess, Roz wants to know where he’s the prince of. Maybe they’re related!  He lies and says he’s the prince of Shoeberg which Lord B overhears and knows to be false because he’s from Shoeberg. 

Lord B starts accosting Pinocchio who is defended by Tim and then the Ram dude who comes to back Tim up. Ram dude is muscular and has armor and a sword. Though he backs up Tim in telling Lord B to step off, he also whispers to Tim that Shoeberg sucks and he shouldn’t talk about it so much. 

Lord B retreats to his shoe carriage and on a Nat 1 insight, Pinocchio thinks that, despite his lie, he’s fine to still go in there. Everyone tries to stop his “chaotic entitled” ass and Red ends up stopping the sword of one of Lord B’s guards with a hairy paw and she goes into a rage. Flashback time for Red.

Ylfa Snorgelsson (Emily’s PC)

Red is outside of her home she is returning to. Apparently, she strayed from the path when she shouldn’t have and shit went down. She knocks on the door, and calls for her mom. No one answers. Red pleads for them to open the door, saying that her grandma is dead and she doesn't have a place to go but her mom says that her daughter is dead. 

Read assures her that she’s alive and says somewhat fearfully that she doesn’t know what she might try to do to get in. 

Inside, there’s some whispering about wolf-trickery and waiting for a woodsman but Red is eventually let in.

She manages to quell her churning thoughts and tells herself that everything will be fine once she’s in. Her mother will help her fix everything…but as soon as she steps in, a silver dagger falls on her while her mom calls for her siblings to run out the back door. It was a trap.

Her rage boils over and she flips the dinner table. A voice tells her to remember to breathe. She does and then, just like in the story, she huffs and puffs and blows her entire family away. Yikes!

[Note: God, talk about trauma. Love the weaving in of the Three Little Pigs story here. And man, Red is so young. Just a pre-teen. Emily plays her so unsure and awkward. I can feel Emily readying some emotional killshots with this character. Her pleading to be let in  (which I realize as I write this is very “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in) was so sad. Also, she’s a Barbarian in case that wasn’t clear. Path of the Beast would be the obvious subclass but we’ll see if she throws us a curveball as she is wont to do. Also,what’s the over-under on her multiclassing into bard? She already has a bard mentor in Tim and we call know mama needs her spell slots.]

In the present, the guard flees at Red’s display of strength and Tim hugs Red. 

Pinocchio admits he’s not a prince but he and Pib tell a very sanitized story about how times are hard and they’re just been taking care of each other. 

The stranger who helped them reveals himself as Old Cole (ie: Old King Cole was a merry old soul–but he doesn’t seem very merry anymore). He explains that Shoeberg was founded by an unkind woman who gave lordships to all of her shitty sons (ie: There was an old woman who lived in a shoe). It’s a rough city that chews people up and spits them out and it sucks that it got to survive while many other better cities crumbled in the Time of Shadow. 

He’s–as far as he knows–the last survivor of his kingdom–Jubilee. Ger asks if he knows anything about his wife and Cole says she was a brilliant warrior on the battlefield (she’s a mace-wielder btw, and ad props for her to being a queen who actually gets her hands dirty) but he doesn’t know if she’s alive right now. Pib asks about Marienne as well but Cole only knows it was overrun by giants. 

[Note: This probably isn’t important, but Cole is essentially making Stone Soup by his carriage which is another famous childhood story I wanted to point out because it’s glossed over.]

Everyone is told that they don’t get to eat if they don’t help with the food so Roz tries to do the princess thing of calling birds to help her. Of course, they’re in a gnarly, ultra-cursed forest so on a Nat 1 a fucked up ostrich comes to help her and she politely declines.

Pib and Pinocchio figure they can just steal some food and bring it to “help” but, when they go to do that, Pinocchio notices a coach with a key in it. When he opens it, he sees someone familiar is in there and sends Pib away while he talks to them privately (though Pib tries to eavesdrop).

Inside is a shadowy silhouette that Pinocchio nervously addresses as “Mom” Brennan says he’s only ever seen her shadow. 

His mom says that Roz is very important and is being hunted so he needs to help keep her safe and hidden. She’s too busy caring for his father. Pinocchio asks for an assurance that his dad is OK and she says that she promised to keep him safe when she married him. She says something about some candle “burning low” and reminds Pinocchio of the night they met.

[Note: I can’t believe I’ve gone this far without mentioning that Lou had committed to this Mickey Mouse sounding squeaky voice for Pinnocchio which is Certainly A Choice. Also, not sure what the candle refers to yet. The most famous candle story is the Jack Be Nimble one and that doesn’t fit. Will think about this more.]

Pinocchio (Lou’s PC)

Pinocchio is in his town (Amarti in the kingdom of Marienne) up later than he should be. And he’s a real boy. A pointy woman in all black carrying a staff shows up and Pinocchio recognizes her as the second fey he’s met in his life. 

The woman has a ball of magical energy which looks so so fun and says each child will get a chance to play with it if they answer a question honestly. Behind her, going into the village, something shadowy flickers. Maybe rats?

She asks a child what their father’s name is. He answers. There’s a scream in the village. She moves on to the next child. Same thing happens. The kids start crying, realizing something awful is happening.

She gets to Pinocchio. She asks for his name. Then she asks for his father’s name. He lies.

Instantly, he drops dead and wakes up on his strings in his father’s house as his dad breathes in and turns. 

Back to the present, Pinocchio’s mother says that he’s been telling a lot of lies and she hopes he can keep them straight. And that’s where we end for the week!

[Note: OK, this is my big Pepe Silvia moment of the week. I have this fraught relationship with the show Once Upon a Time but I feel like it’s prepared me for the analysis I’m about to do. 

When the character card shows up for Pinocchio’s mom it identifies her as “The Stepmother” (who is his patron btw–he’s a warforged warlock) and it identifies her as being from Cinderella. BUT it doesn’t say she’s THE stepmother from Cinderella. 

Let’s think about this for a second.

She’s presented in silhouette. Why? It could just be patron dramatic-ness. But it also could be to set up for a reveal later. 

We never get a name–just a title: Stepmother. And it’s totally normal that Pinocchio would just call her mom. But that also could be a setup for a reveal. 

This is a weird pull but there’s an apt quote from Disenchanted (the other thing I’m currently obsessed with). “Stepmothers are wicked but they’re not usually very powerful.” Cinderella’s stepmother as a patron wouldn’t be my first guess, you know? Like, of course in this world she COULD be magic, like Tim is, but I think there are better candidates here. 

Let’s think about the flashback now. Pinocchio’s mom leads into it by telling him to remember when they met. 

He describes the fairy that he meets and her features. But Brennan also says he’s only ever seen his mom in silhouette. So the fairy and the mom don’t seem to be the same people even if that is the night that they met. Brennan also says it’s the second fairy he ever met which means the first is likely the Blue Fairy. So this isn’t likely a twisted version of the fairy from his story. 

So the fairy this is likely to be is the one from Cinderella. The Fairy Godmother. And it seems like she’s controlling rats which tracks with the Cinderella story–rodents to horses, right?

(Though, sidenote, because I’m going full Pepe Silvia, I will also point out two other possible links. The first being something Pied Piper related. And the second being a Pinocchio pull as the Pleasure Island owner in the Disney version has these shadowy minions. Oh and while we’re talking shadows–Peter Pan. None of this is part of the analysis proper, just throwing out possibilities.)

ANYWAY, if this fairy is Cindy’s fairy and I’m skeptical the stepmom is The Stepmother then what if Pinocchio’s stepmother is Cinderella herself? The OG Stepmom in the story never had enough proximity to magic to be a patron but Cindy did. I could see her getting magic much more easily. And it would be a killer reveal story-wise. 

I don’t know what the motivation would be yet and I don’t even know if she’s evil or just shady. But there was clearly a lot of intentional vagueness during this section, and this is my best attempt to parse it. I look forward to getting more puzzle pieces as the season goes on!]

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #neverafter #neverafter spoilers #twice upon a time #aww shit here we go again

[denimbex1986]

'Fleabag’s hot priest is about to take on his most liberating role yet: a one-man show of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya in which he will play all nine roles, male and female. He loves taking risks, he says. It seems to be paying off…

I last saw Andrew Scott in the flesh eight years ago. I was sitting in the gloom at the top of what used to be St Martin’s School of Art in the Charing Cross Road – a tiny, temporary theatre had sprung up there – and he was three feet away from me, surrounded by great piles of stuff: newspapers, books, chairs, cupboards… a piano. The occasion was Richard Greenberg’s play The Dazzle, about two compulsive hoarders, the Collyer brothers, and his performance as one of them was mesmerising: in truth, almost too mesmerising. My mind went into overdrive. All that paper and mahogany. What if something toppled, and he was crushed – as the real Langley Collyer was – beneath a chest of drawers?

He wasn’t crushed, of course. But what’s striking and slightly odd is that today I’m seeing Scott in the flesh for the second time, and we’re again at the top of an old building – in this case, a public library – in rooms that feel a bit dilapidated, if not exactly derelict. People imagine the actor’s life to be a glamorous one, particularly if the actor in question has been in a Bond film – and of course it has its enchantments. But then there are the hours spent in spaces like this: long days of sandwiches, bottled water and elusive lines. When we came up in the ancient lift together, I couldn’t decide which of us was the more anxious. He was, I would guess. “MY TWELVE HOURS TRAPPED WITH FLEABAG STAR” ran the ticker tape in my mind as the mechanism creaked and groaned, and we each did our best not to meet the other’s eye.

Scott has spent the past three weeks here, deep in rehearsals for Vanya, a new version by Simon Stephens of Anton Chekhov’s great tragicomedy Uncle Vanya. But there’s new, and then there is… new. This adaptation gives the play, among other things, a contemporary setting. However, when the production opens in the West End, its chief novelty – and its chief draw, given Scott’s huge following – will be the fact that it is a one-man show. He will be playing all nine parts: male and female, young and old, beautiful and not-so-beautiful. It must be hard to learn so many lines, I say, once he’s (semi) comfortable on a battered leather sofa, his old, white T-shirt giving him a slight look of Marlon Brando. Doesn’t he feel like he’s going mad, with all these voices in his head? He laughs – a high-pitched, wicked laugh. “Yeah. I do, and it’s really hard [to learn]. Usually, when you can’t remember a line, another actor will say, ‘What time is it?’ or something, and then it comes to you. But now I’ve no one to cue me.” Alone on stage, he has had to change his mindset completely: “I’ve come to understand that I’m sort of looking after all these characters.”

The idea for a one-man production came about by accident. Scott, Stephens, and Sam Yates, who is directing the play, were workshopping it together (Scott has worked with Stephens twice before, most notably in Birdland at the Royal Court, in which he played a rock star who has made a Faustian pact with fame). “We miscalculated the parts, and I ended up having to act with myself, and it was kind of interesting. It gave birth to the idea that, as much as these characters say they’re different from each other, actually, some of them are very similar. I’m more interested now in those similarities than in, you know, doing a funny voice [for each one]. The production seems to me to be about what the act of creation is. I love the idea that you might be able to represent what a writer experiences on stage, all these characters in his head.”

But how on earth will the audience work out what’s going on? I understand about the funny voices, but won’t Scott have to change his a little bit when he’s acting the part of a woman? He smiles, teasingly. “I don’t think I should tell you that… But you don’t need to worry too much. I feel so liberated! I hope people will start to look at what’s within the performer so that something happens that can only really take place in a theatre – which is that you’re seeing one thing, but imagining something else.” This sounds like reading a novel, visualising scenes and characters for yourself, filling the gaps between words. He nods. “Look, I definitely don’t want to shy away from the ridiculousness of this project, and yeah, I’m nervous, but I’m loving the process. I think it’s a really sexy play. You know, Chekhov was a doctor, and he saw death so much, and I think he was able to understand human beings like no other writer.”

The argument that actors should only play who they are – that a gay character, for instance, may be played only by a gay actor – is made more and more often lately. But this production seems (to me, at least) subtly to resist the notion of identity politics in the theatre; to suggest that such rigidity may sometimes be a cul-de-sac. “It can be a cul-de-sac, certainly,” Scott says. “Of course those arguments have to be heard. The world isn’t a level playing field. But I think transformation is as important as representation. Our first understanding of storytelling happens when we’re young. Our mother or father is pretending to be a wolf. We know we’re safe, but we’re scared, too. Our parent can be a wolf! Human beings can create worlds within themselves. I don’t think we can just slice that out of ourselves.”

He knows some will heartily dislike this Vanya, but the thought seems, if anything, to excite him. “It could go wrong,” he says. “But we need a bit more of people not liking things.” He’s ambivalent, to put it mildly, about standing ovations, which seem to happen in the theatre most evenings nowadays. “My concern is that everything becomes meaningless. I think it’s unfortunate that if someone decides not to stand up, it’s perceived that they hated it. That’s not necessarily true. Maybe I thought it was very good, but I didn’t feel like rising to my feet. My producers are going to hate me for saying this, but I strongly believe that if people don’t feel like standing up, they shouldn’t. People feel lonely, having to stand when they don’t want to. Equally, it’s kind of moving when most people are not standing up, and three people are.”

Does he blame the internet for this? Is it just another form of “liking” something? “I do blame the internet, yes.” But perhaps, too, it has to do with cost. “I was recently on Broadway, and tickets there are astronomically expensive, and I thought: well, these people have to stand up because they’ve spent $390, so it’s got to have been one of the best nights of their lives.” Either way, he doesn’t understand it: the firmness and immediacy of people’s responses. “When you’ve just seen a play, it’s a really sensitive time. It’s weird when people start talking straight away about their new conservatory.” All this may explain why he feels there is more value for him in doing experimental work. “Some people will like it, some people won’t, and that’s great. I feel ferocious about wanting to take risks.”

In the coming months, Scott will be everywhere: a trick of scheduling, rather than by design. Vanya will be followed in January by the release of All of Us Strangers, a film in which he stars with Paul Mescal and Claire Foy (he plays a depressed screenwriter who goes to visit his childhood home, only to find that his parents, far from having died in a car crash when he was 12, are alive and well – though much of the coverage of the movie so far has focused on the fact that his character and Mescal’s are lovers). “It’s a beautiful film,” he says, dreamily. And then there’s Ripley, a Netflix series (its release is expected at the end of this year), based on Patricia Highsmith’s novel The Talented Mr Ripley, written and directed by Steven Zaillian, the screenwriter of Schindler’s List and Hannibal.

“It’s a big, big thing,” he says, of his role as Tom Ripley, grifter and serial killer. And yet, Scott said he wouldn’t be doing any more crazed sociopaths, having played Moriarty in Sherlock (he was also a baddie in the Bond film Spectre). “I know, but what I find interesting about him is not the psycho-ness; it’s the otherness. To me, it’s about what it’s like never to be invited to the party. We all know people who don’t make it easy for themselves, who are maybe a bit strange. But if you’re constantly ignored, or sidelined, or don’t fit in, what happens? Is it that something dark emerges? I don’t mind saying that playing him was challenging. It was very lonely. We filmed during Covid, and the five-day isolation requirements that were in place both here and in Italy meant people couldn’t come and visit, and I couldn’t come home. It’s eight hours of television, and he’s a solitary figure in this version, so I was on my own a lot.”

Scott is 46, though you wouldn’t know it; his enthusiasm, like his fidgetiness, belong to a younger man. He grew up in Dublin, with his two sisters – his father worked at an employment agency; his mother was an art teacher – where he was educated at private Jesuit school, attending drama classes on Saturdays. Art was his first plan – painting is still his great love; he can’t wait for the forthcoming Hockney show at the National Portrait Gallery – and he won a bursary to art school at 17. But then he was cast in a film, Korea, about an Irish boy emigrating to America in the 1950s who’s enlisted to fight in the Korean war, so he turned the place down, and once the movie was done, went to Trinity College to study drama instead. After six months, bored by the course, he left to join Dublin’s Abbey theatre.

He seems hardly ever to have been out of work, and his CV is such a mixture: Gethin the tense gay Welshman in Matthew Warchus’s film Pride; eccentric Lord Merlin in the BBC adaptation of The Pursuit of Love; an acclaimed Hamlet in 2017 at the Almeida theatre. By this point, his mantlepiece – he has two, one in London, and one in Dublin – must be quite frantic with statuettes (his most recent win, in 2020, was a Laurence Olivier award for best actor for his performance as Garry Essendine in Noël Coward’s Present Laughter). Does he feel blessed? “Yes, and that’s a really nice way of putting it. I’m grateful.” But perhaps this sounds too… humble: “I’ve never understood why there’s some sort of shame associated with being an artist. I feel able to call myself one.”

His fame is at a level that means he can move around London unnoticed, and he’d like to keep it that way. “I’m suspicious of it. I’ve no real interest in the value of it. The idea of being followed by a photographer seems hellish to me.” Does it affect his relationships? He doesn’t believe that it does, though there are “creepy, unsavoury people” out there who might not “have my best interests at heart”. Is he single? “Yes, I am.” Would he like to meet someone? He would. Surely it’s easy in his world? So many lovely new people entering his orbit all the time – and with his looks… He laughs. “That’s a lot of projection, there,” he says, sounding suddenly more Irish.

I read somewhere that some women in Ireland will always think of him as the guy who turned up to their demonstrations in the run-up to the abortion referendum in 2018, even when it was raining (the vote overturned the ban on abortion in the country, and followed one of 2015, which allowed same sex couples to marry). Isn’t it amazing how much Ireland has changed? When he was 16, it was still illegal to be gay, as he is. “Yes, it’s immense for people of my generation to have been emancipated from the shame of the Catholic church. But it’s interesting. Privacy matters to me, but then I remember Sinéad O’Connor being on The Late, Late Show, talking about human rights, and how important that was. Her kindness… We’re only just finding out about it. She didn’t announce it to the world. Again, it brings us back to social media. Does kindness happen if you don’t tell everybody about it?”

Scott is no longer a practising Catholic. But he can’t be certain this means he won’t call for the priest at the end (this conversation has taken a morbid turn, and it’s my fault). Perhaps it’s in the marrow. “It’s the organisation that’s the problem, not the principles behind it, which are very beautiful for the most part. I remember when Simon and I were doing [the play] Sea Wall. One of the lines in it is: show me God, where is he? And then the next line is: well, show me love, where is that? You can’t get evidence for either of them really. They’re just strong feelings. I believe in the power of love. I feel it’s stronger than anything, because you can’t do anything about it. I’ve so much of it in my life, and one of the things I’m most proud of is how much I’m able, not only to receive it, but to give it – and if somebody thinks that’s sentimental or mawkish, well, to me it’s the opposite.” He talks for a while in this vein. “I want to try to be a good person; not just a nice person, but a good person,” he says, his voice racing on – and it makes me think of him as the Hot Priest in Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Fleabag, the role for which he may now be best known. If every pulpit came with an Andrew Scott, our churches would be bulging at the seams.

Soon after this, there’s a knock on the door. It’s time to begin rehearsal (in the hall outside, his director stands at a lectern, looking quite priestly himself). He has, he says, another three weeks to go before Vanya opens, and when it does, he’ll be looking out for me; I’d better be sitting down at the curtain call, he jokes. Well, perhaps I’ll have good reason to be sitting down, I joke back. But he’s ever serious: “I always remember what my mum used to say. She’s an art teacher, and she used to tell us that a good drawer never rubs out. So, you draw a line, and then you get it wrong, and then you start a new line. The fact that people can see your old line doesn’t make them appreciate your new line any less. It may even make them appreciate it more.” What he means, I think, is that he believes it’ll be all right on the night.'

#Andrew Scott #Fleabag #Vanya #Ripley #The Dazzle #Anton Chekhov #Uncle Vanya #Simon Stephens #Sam Yates #Birdland #All of Us Strangers #Paul Mescal #Claire Foy #Jamie Bell #The Talented Mr Ripley #Patricia Highsmith #Steven Zaillian #Moriarty #Sherlock #Spectre #Pride #Lord Merlin #The Pursuit of Love #Hamlet #Almeida Theatre #Noel Coward #Present Laughter #Olivier Awards #Sea Wall #Phoebe Waller-Bridge

[134340am]

sweet yuuuuuna !! ur event looks so lovely ( and the post is so PWETTIE ! ) may i request . . #9 or #11 wif tobio >~< ( no gender preference :> ) luv u lots n lots 🧸🤍 !!

kageyama tobio x gn!reader, 0.9k words, suggestive + cw razor blades  part of my 500 frens celebration!

9. forehead kisses but it’s the f/o being kissed on the forehead

“oi, stay still, tobio! or i’m gonna cut you—”

“a little hard to stay still when you have a knife near my face, babe.”

“it’s not a knife!” you huff, exasperated, and sit back on his hips. your boyfriend stares back up at you, equally pissed and equally anxious while he brings a hand up to his face to rub at his eyebrows, checking if they were still there. 

you had half a mind to lecture him about having faith in your partner when they trim your eyebrows and why this trust is essential in any relationship but you decide against it, instead focusing on wiping down your razor with the wet tissue you have in hand. 

“this one feels much shorter than the other,” tobio muttered. he casts you a suspicious look and you resist the urge to physically hiss at him.

“that’s because you wouldn’t let me finish the other one—ugh, i’m not even hurting you! i’m just trimming away all the sparse hairs, which shouldn’t hurt because it’s like a haircut for your stupid eyebrows.”

“my eyebrows aren’t stupid!”

“well, they are now, since they’re unbalanced and all.”

tobio sighs, hands falling back down to your hips. he gives them a good squeeze, a borderline grumpy pout still pulling at his lips, and you feel your exasperation fade away at how adorable he looks. it took a lot of convincing for him to even get here—lying stiffly on your bed, toes curled in apprehension while you approach him with your little blue blade.

“thanks for letting me do your brows, tobio,” you had said excitedly just five minutes ago, carefully pushing back his floppy bangs with a big fluffy headband. “i can’t wait to make you look all clean and pretty.”

“careful, or i’ll end up looking too pretty,” he snorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “you don’t like when girls stare at me, right?” 

“nah, i’m just worried that you’ll end up prettier than me.”

tobio scoffs—an airy sound that’s his version of a laugh. “not possible, babe.” 

and now, five minutes later, your boyfriend has dropped the sweet and smitten act in favour of protecting his eyebrows, and by extension his public image. damn it, you missed when tobio couldn’t care less about whether his fringe was parted in two or three sections.

“make it right.” he demands, pointing at his undone eyebrow.

you still. “say please?”

“please make it right, my love.” you turn your nose up at him, preferring to pick at your dry cuticles instead. when tobio sees your lack of response, he huffs and sits up, pulling you closer to him by the waist. “please. i’ll give you a massage. i’ll do the laundry. i’ll… i’ll even cook dinner?” he says with a wince, obviously not confident enough to make the claim, but reckoned it was worth a shot anyway. 

the thought of your lover in a frilly apron wreaking havoc on your beloved cast iron pans and ceramic claypots makes you shudder. 

“i’ll take the massage,” you offer. “since you asked so nicely.” 

you push him back down with a gentle hand to his chest, trying your best to ignore how hard the muscle feels under your fingertips. when tobio settles into the bed comfortably, you smooth back a few strands of his hair that escaped his headband, before leaning forward to kiss his forehead. just to placate him a little for being so good, you think.

when you pulled back, you were surprised to see the beginnings of a pretty blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. 

in a bid to not embarrass him further, you get to work on his right brow, gently pulling the skin taut and shaving away any sparse hairs. it took almost no time at all to get the shape neat and tidy, but even so, you could still feel tobio struggling not to squirm under you—hands gripping your hips tightly. 

“there we go, all done.” you hand him a little hand mirror. “whaddya think, baby?”

your boyfriend scrutinises his appearance, nose scrunching up as he examines his face. for a moment, you could feel your stomach flipping with hesitation, unsure of what to expect. does he like the look? can he tell if one brow is still longer than the other, though you tried your best to make both of them even?

“i look nice.” then, a cheeky smirk. “one step closer to becoming prettier than you.”

“that’s bold, coming from someone who couldn’t handle a little trim,” you laugh, sliding the plastic cap back onto your razer and climbing off your boyfriend—not that you made it far, because in a split-second flurry of motion that caught you off-guard, tobio had flipped you onto your back with your razer tossed to the floor. 

“c’mon, i did my best.” he leans in close, lips brushing yours ever so slightly—a subtle promise for more. “say, don’t you think i deserve a kiss for being so good?”  

.

.

.

“lemme do your nails next, tobio.”

“no. absolutely not. you can do whatever you want to my face, but i’d rather stick to my own nail care routine.” 

you pout, resting your head on his chest. “yeah yeah, fine. you spend more time with your glass nail file than me. i’m starting to hate you, tobio.”

“i do not. and you can’t blame me for wanting to keep my nails shaped nicely, it’s for my job,” tobio mumbles into your hair, words punctuated with a soft smooch to the top of your head that had you smiling into his soft cotton shirt. 

“besides, having neat nails means i can stick my fingers in you whenever i want.”

a/n: coco baby! gonna tag your new blog here in case you miss this : ) @tobiodose | i hope you are having a fun day out rn <3 thank you so so much for requesting! i’ve had this scenario stuck in my head for the LONGEST time, and wanted to scream about it in ur inbox but i decided to save it for ur request instead ^o^ i hope it’s to your liking! love u love u love u thank u for all the lemons u’ve given me and for all the joy u bring to me and my dash ~ 

(series masterlist) (masterlist)

#kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kageyama fluff #yuna writes #yuna's 500 frens celebration

[platinumrosetail]

Let’s see what I can do! 😁 and another modern!reader yay! 🤩😍 and a platonic version with a child!reader how unique! I’ll make sure to do my best!!

Warning: noob author, dark theme, platonic yandere characters, female child reader, and others.

Characters: shadowpeach, SpicyNoodles.

This will have a part two!!

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

Shadowpeach:

When you had appeared in your one of you favorite tv show you were excited, but quickly realized that you’re falling; how you knew it was your one of your favorite tv show is because you had apparently appeared when mk was battling a possessed dbk.

Sadly your wheelchair had broken as it fell on a bull clone that wasn’t there before, and ended up getting crushed by it, you had also landed on the seat that hadn’t been destroyed to bad by the help of pif as soon as she noticed you falling.

That distraction had confused dbk/lbd, redson and his mother, and mk but he used that as the leverage they needed to get dbk out of his possessed state.

Mk had brought you to sun, as sun had said before that he’s retired and with the group having to battle a lot they won’t be able to take care of you so mk had thought it would be a good idea to leave you with sun.

He noticed you had a doll; the doll was him, in a princess dress….

(I couldn’t help myself I just had to lol haha 😂🤣)

Though while he was gone trying to find information about lbd and about the map to find the samadhi fire Macaque decided to take a visit.

You remember him and remembered a ship called shadowpeach for Macaque and sun, so you and as well as others shipped them.

You called him mom…. You have called sun dad before and mk big brother as well but since you had entered this world after the possession of dbk and spider queen.

He honestly was just going to leave you alone before you called him that and now he’s still you, or well was going to but that plan changed as sun came faster than macaque had anticipated.

(Oooh? What’s this change of plot, don’t mind if I do, lol.)

When sun had saw macaque holding you like a mother, he grew heart eyes in seconds. He what always wanted macaque with him and to start a family and with mk, and you here that dream can be accomplished!

Later when it was family time, the four of y’all would play charades; without using their powers so it would be fair and drawing, there was also a time were they each turned in a creature you created and gave a piggyback ride with you and the ones who either already did one or it wasn’t their turn.

He’ll protect his loved ones so he doesn’t have to be alone for another long century.

Spicynoodle:

Mk had adopted you when his boyfriend’s dad got possessed by lbd knowing he just couldn’t leave you all by your lonesome, which lead you be the grandchild of pigsy, tang, macaque, and sun.

And of course redson side of the family we have pif and dbk.

Redson had notice how you’re paralyzed in your legs soon after and decided to create a wheelchair that has a tracker built in and other thing that will help out if you’re in danger and none of them are there with you.

You were also a artist like mk so the two of you have boding time drawing in y’all free time; on that note you and redson also had bonding time, he would try and create working robot toys that you designed and explained to him as well.

They got a new house as there wasn’t anymore room for mk and the two of you, reason why redson doesn’t want to has the three of you to live with his parents is because he knew they would tell embarrassing stories and there never be a way out of that as mk would love to hear them and possibly you too.

Redson will most likely try to invent something or make a serum so you can walk again, and when that happens he’ll be a proud dad when you would walk towards one of them, more if you decide to walk towards him though, just don’t tease him about it as he would so deny.

(A/n: I honestly don’t have anything else to say but I hope y’all have a wonderful day/evening/night!! Also that part two will be here, so that you don’t have to worry about scrolling back up.)

#anime #various x reader #anime x reader #x reader stories #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid #jttw #lmk macaque #lmk dbk #lmk x reader #platonic #yandere x reader #yandere #lmk red son #lmk mk

[bobbybutterfly]

Elliott art dump!

These pictures are quite mid so I decided to post a whole bunch of them at once. Back when I was starting Tumblr I really wanted as much likes as possible. Yeah. It’s cringe. But I’m a furry. I’m all cringe. It’s especially cringe because likes and followers don’t matter much on Tumblr. You’re never gonna make any money on here! Oh boy. Isn’t being disabled and incapable of work fun!

Well. Now I got some stability with responses. About four per non Squirrel and Hedgehog related stuff. In the past I would spit these three into separate posts. Thus gaining about 12 likes if I’m lucky all together. But now I will post them all together because I’m not such an attention whore anymore.

So now about these fellas. The first Elliott is actually the last one with the sea background. I wanted to impress with the best one so I put the latest one to show first. But this sea background one. He was an attempt at the jelly art style. I still have a long way to go, don’t I? He’s kind of cute. Though he could use more polish. They all could. He was supposed to be more realistic but after I finished the sketch I didn’t pay much attention to the reference photo. A lot of the time my painting don’t have the best of anatomy. That’s quite strange because anatomy in my sketches while not perfect is pretty good. My art teacher said that it’s because I get so engrossed in painting I forget to pay attention to it.

I did learn something on this piece though. Using the blend tool. I first block out under my sketch with a flat base paint. Then I add (lol I wrote ass by accident!) a clipping layer onto the flat base. There I do all the colours. Then I merge the base and the colours to blend it. Don’t forget to use alpha lock! Then merge that with the sketch layer on top. Blend away the lines. Switch off alpha lock and do the polishing.

Got all that? No? You didn’t understand a word what I just said? Ehm. Moving on.

The middle one. I quite like this one. Even though I didn’t do enough blending around the eyes so he got some sick eyeliner. By now you noticed that Elliott doesn’t look the most like his in game appearance. I really love the earlier designs. He’s just so dorky! I also base my head cannon version of him from the actor Haruma Muira. I’ve got a whole bunch written about my head cannon if you’re willing to scroll for two hours down my blog. There’s not much to say about this drawing. It’s sketchy. It works. I went lazy with the sweater. It turned out pretty good.

Now the top one. The eye catching furry version of Elliott. I drew him as antro lion before. But then I remembered that lions are supposed to have a collar like mane. Not just hair on top. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to make him a twink though!!! I did challenge @32girassoisdevangogh but it seems they chickened out! That or they have more important stuff to attend to…

IMPORTANT!!! IMPORTANT!!!!

@32girassoisdevangogh is not a chicken!!! They drew Elliott as both a lion and a Iriomote catand did and incredible job doing so! Really taught me not to do cheap jabs at people because they will make a big fool of you!!

INTERMISSION OVER!

So I changed the species to a Iriomote cat. Which works far more for the story I have for him. My head cannon is he’s a 2nd generation immigrant from the Gotoro Empire, which is like Stardew’s version of Japan in my head. Everyone thinks he’s white because though he has monolid eyes and bronzish skin (when he dares to go out his cabin) he still got ocean blue eyes and red hair. Iriomote cats do look like your usual street cat unless you look close. I won’t have him be a furry if I ever get around to writing the fanfic about him. I don’t want Zootopia 2 Bad Racism Allegory Boogaloo.

This picture looks… alright. I have a lot of learning to do when it comes to digital paintings. Do you have some suggestions for what I should work on? I draw in Procreate.

Bobby out!

#my art #fanart #procreate #digital art #furry art #stardew valley #stardew elliott #digital painting #art criticism #give art advice please!

[seollenda]

past tense and an arms length (taeyeon/reader)

get your taeyeon angst here…with a side of annoyed wingman fany. because taetae is always on the mind and has only become more and more now i’m back into binging gg content ;w;

word count: ~2,000

CW: n/a

“we don’t talk anymore.”

maybe taeyeon hadn’t meant it to come across that bluntly, but the media didn’t miss out on the sound bite. a few korean outlets wheedled their way into your inbox, digging up your contact info and demanding comments that you couldn’t even arrange into coherence anyway. you tried to ignore them the best you could.

even when tiffany came knocking one day, with the deepest frown and a pout that betrayed some irritation as well.

“taetae wants to talk.” she set her cargo down on a recently wiped down countertop—grimey produce that you know she foraged from her nearest farmers market. the next bag was a black plastic one, filled to the brim with your favourite korean snacks. her version of a love language.

“i thought we don’t talk anymore.”

maybe you hadn’t meant it to come across that sensitive either.

(or maybe you both had.)

in any case, tiffany wasn’t having it.

she set a bottle of riesling next to the potatoes, which you snatched up and immediately stuck in your fridge.

“you know she didn’t mean it that way. she has to watch what she says nowadays…”

“right, and she sure did a good job at keeping the buzz down,” you replied, digging through the groceries to put them away. fany just watched you bustle around, nonplussed. you continued, a pang of what you tried to identify as resentment twisting your stomach. “maybe she forgot to consider that i have a life to live here…my inbox was quiet enough until this bullshit.”

“y/n.” tiffany snapped. “stop bullshitting me. i’ve never seen you sulk this bad, even since you moved.” you finally relented and looked her in the eyes. “frankly i’m tired of being the in between for your annoying ass drama. so for my sake, figure it the fuck out.”

guilty. your heart sank.

“fany…” you started, setting the onions down and brushing the dust off your hands on your shirt. you came around the kitchen island, reaching for a hug. “i’m sorry…i’m so selfish sometimes…”

“it’s okay,” she accepted your arms. she smelled of the same peony perfume she’d shown off excitedly the last time you’d met—when things seemed so settled in and moved on, finally. you’d secured your biggest theater role yet, moved into the apartment you’d searched for, adopted a kitten. you’d felt that glowing pride and admiration from your closest friend, someone who had always seemed to have it all figured out from the beginning. in her shadow in america, then los angeles, you had grown content, even when she pushed you to carry on. and you finally felt like you’d shed the stage name, finally yourself, an artist in her own right here in a city where they were much more seldom recognized. where they could refuse and avoid prying korean press, and they grew uninterested enough not to bother. a new email domain had felt like a silly small step in that realization.

until fucking kim taeyeon decided to mention you on live prime time radio.

a month out since that happy brunch, now tiffany regarded you with weary disappointment.

“i know she hurt you, and what she did wasn’t fair,” she prodded, honest yet affectionate. she tucked your hair behind an ear, sensing the rising tide of emotion in you. “but you really hurt her too. taengu…” fany trailed off, and you were reminded of the fact that yes, the two of them were soulmates in a way, too. closest of friends, and you’d been the cause of her best friend’s three years of pain.

you gritted your teeth against tears.

“she’s coming to los angeles this week,” tiffany said suddenly. “international interviews before comeback, now that things are opened up again.” she leveled a stare at you. “she wants to see you. she’s doing a big thing, stepping forward first.” her grip squeezed firmly on your shoulders. “so meet her halfway.”

“okay.” you said, if only to release her vice grip on you. you returned to your tidying, feeling churning butterflies already.

“you don’t even have to make up,” tiffany said, her tone finally loosening into something resembling her usual self. “honestly, it’s probably best if you two don’t hook up. at least for now.”

she grinned at the dirtiest glare you could manage and shrugged unapologetically.

“sorry, neither of you are over it,” she wandered over to your fridge, apparently too impatient to wait for the wine to chill. “you have a type, clearly. so does she. honestly it’s kinda creepy how accurate it is…”

“she…” you couldn’t resist. “she’s been in a relationship?”

“only flings,” fany rolled her eyes, handing you a glass. you sipped at it. tart and way too sweet. just the way tiffany young liked it. “she’s been off men since you, to be honest. one guy, and he deadass kinda reminded me of you, too.“

“celeb?”

“tattoo artist.”

“i’d never have been a tattoo artist,” you couldn’t help but snort. tiffany laughed too.

“maybe that’s why that one was over so fast.” she rolled her eyes. “anyway. i’d have said you have higher ground on this one but i know you’re still way too hung up on her.”

you exhaled, leaning on the countertop with a hanging head.

“can you blame me?”

kim taeyeon. no woman had gripped you like she had. maybe whatever…this was was mutual after all.

if she’d seemed so touchy about the topic on some random radio show.

—

“hey.”

“hi.”

it was unusual for either of you to call rather than text, but somehow messages seemed more intimate than a phone call. at least both parties could pretend to have forgotten what was said when words were released into receivers, dissolved into air immediately.

“did we want to meet tomorrow? brunch? fany said she reserved a quiet spot for us with good food.”

hearing her voice call your mutual friend by that nickname betrayed another rush of nostalgia. you gripped the phone tighter, pressing your lips together. you weren’t sure what was threatening to spill out of you, but you didn’t trust yourself.

“yeah, sure.” you swallowed, your voice even.

“eleven AM, the blue barrow,” she said shortly. her tone was indecipherable, especially over a crackly connection.

“got it.”

a silence began to stretch uncomfortably. fany’s words repeated reproachfully in your head. so you made an effort.

“you landed today?”

“yeah, this morning.” she exhaled. you could hear her voice opening up to you already. the hint of weariness was familiar, one which had always pricked your attention. “rest, tae,” you would have repeated until she listened (sometimes it took more than a few patient repetitions).

rest. moments the two of you had shared turned to what the other girls surreptitiously dubbed “quality time”. the two of you lay in the same cramped dorm bed, fingers intertwined and talking about anything and nothing, dreams and realities. comparing hands, tracing veins, remarking about anything in a way that you felt like you learned something everytime. something about taeng, but something about yourself.

rest, taeng-ah.

—

dressed down, wrapped up in a semblance of incognito fashion, she was still stunning when she lowered her shades and lifted her cap.

“hey, y/n.”

she said your name this time.

“hi taeyeonie.”

the conversation was stilted, the food delicious. her gaze was furtively attentive when she thought you didn’t notice, otherwise guarded in a way that hurt.

so much for her making the first step. tiffany had always been an optimist.

and maybe a bit of a liar. this taeyeon didn’t want anything to do with you, even as she sat before you and you breathed her air and thought you were looking into her eyes.

“that was delicious,” you mustered some cheer, collecting your card. (the meal your treat, you’d insisted. she didn’t resist as hard as she normally would. maybe she didn’t see it as worth it anymore. it didn’t seem like a running tab would occur between the two of you at this rate.)

she watched you get to your feet, taking a deep breath before bolting hastily to her own. her words came clumsily and overeagerly. you knew she’d held onto them longer than she should’ve.

“can i see your apartment?”

you raised an eyebrow, attempting sone lighthearted ribbing.

“inviting yourself over?”

“i just—“ she stammered, her nervous hands landing among dishes to lean on the tabletop. “fany told me so much about your new place and your cat and you know, i—“

“i’m just kidding,” you cut in, saving her from giving an answer that you knew neither would want to admit. you saw her shoulders slacken slightly. “yeah, you can come over.”

—

what had possessed you to let kim taeyeon take another step into your life?

she was on your threshold, fumbling off her flats and stepping into your apartment. not at the scale one might have imagined for an ex-girls generation member. but cozy and well kept and just what you’d dreamed of all along.

“it’s lovely,” she said finally. clutching the couch back, facing away from you. “it’s very you. what i’d always imagined your home might look.”

“guess i haven’t changed there.”

she turned around, her eyes bright with tears.

“i shouldn’t have come, i’m sorry.” but she only stepped closer. her gaze searched your face, desperate. “but i had to see you.”

“i know.” you swallowed hard. she reached out, tentative but encouraged. her hands were small, warm in yours. “i don’t know what i expected.”

“i had things to say to you.” she broke into a watery chuckle, embarrassed. “i wrote it all down…” she reached toward her jeans pocket but thought better of it, returning her hands to yours. “but i thought maybe you should get a chance to talk this time.”

you exhaled a breath held. her warm gaze gave you strength. even after all these years.

“i think i finally understood why you had to.” your eyes were dry, somehow. “but you could’ve told me, taeyeon. none of it made sense to me.”

“yeah,” she looked down. “i thought it was easier if you didn’t know. it barely made sense to me.” tae released a hand to clutch lightly at her scalp in bemusement. “i was double-stupid for expecting you to stay.”

“i would’ve hoped for it too,” you replied. the memories came back in a messy, warm, sentimental flurry. “we were so young…”

“wasn’t it fun?”

she gazed into you. nobody could dig into you like her, lay you bare in a way that frightened you at first. that had been the initial, passionate draw. to be seen so nakedly, it was inevitable to want find more. not just of the other girl. but the pieces of yourself you could find in her eyes.

it was stupid and dangerous, but it tugged at you again. even a hundred life events since you’d last met her this way.

“it was.” past tense. it had to be, or else you’d be driven insane again. the girl on your television, the girl who couldn’t stop herself from uttering your name, the girl whose lyrics echoed the exact words she’d spoken to you one of those warmest nights. ones that you’d thought she’d forgotten, but you could never release.

“i loved you.”

she was quiet.

past tense. past tense.

“i loved you too.”

and she stepped first, finally. her lips were just the same as you remembered, her hands finding the same points on your waist and then up to cup your face. she was just the same, it was all just the same.

you were stupid and young and lovesick again, and kim taeyeon was yours again.

“i still want to.”

the two of you had always known what you’d wanted. her words hadn’t changed either. you’d been a fool after all, forgetting willfully or otherwise.

with tae, it was always the present.

#snsd fanfic #snsd imagines #taeyeon fanfic #taeyeon imagines #kpop imagines #kpop fanfic

[redbootsindoriath]

The other day as I was going through the blog’s backup folders, I found some old drawings that I meant to post throughout the past couple of years and either forgot about or just never got around to (I don’t think there are any here that I’ve posted before, but I apologize if there are).  And I thought “I should probably post these before I go.”  So here they are.  I’m going to put them under a cut because there are quite a few of them.  Most of them are from Children of Húrin.

This one is labeled “glaurung” in my files but he kind of looks more like a dragon version of Jabba the Hutt.  I think it’s because Tolkien mentioned how fat he got while sleeping on the treasure in Nargothrond, so I drew a normal snaky dragon and then tried to imagine how it would look if it gained weight.

=====

Mablung and Beleg coming back from a rainy hunting trip.  If I remember right, it started out as a height comparison drawing and I decided to actually turn it into a full sketch...?

=====

Beleg, Túrin, and Mablung somewhere in Doriath.  I actually remember where I was sitting while I was drawing this...I think it was in February 2020?  I’m pretty sure it was the last drawing I did before leaving for the airport to come to the States and then getting stuck there because the virus stopped all overseas travel for so long.  In other words, this is the last drawing from when my life was still relatively normal.  Just look at how chill all the characters are.  I thought I was only going to be gone for a couple of weeks, maybe a month max.

=====

Those same three characters because I’m predictable.

=====

Remember how some people and dwarves in Middle Earth think that elves are just so creepy and terrifying?  And heck, we know that some of them really were brutal.  Heck, even our golden boy Finrod bit a werewolf during a fight once.  So I was thinking about how Beleg probably resorted to biting during fights now and again if it was the quickest way out, especially since he’s from that first generation of elves that was figuring out how the world worked on their own and they didn’t have anybody around to say “stop ripping the throats out of your enemies with your teeth, that’s really gross and barbaric.”

=====

Speaking of Finrod, here he is.  This was originally part of a Third Age Finrod comic but the idea got scrapped.  I still like this frame though.

=====

Legolas and Gimli talking to Treebeard in Fangorn Forest.  Basically just a little doodle to laugh about how tall Treebeard is even next to characters on horseback.  (Also a squirrel.)

=====

A little set of parallel drawings I did of Beleg and Túrin rescuing each other.  My best friend had written a list of friendship prompts and this one was “Physically blocking them from harm” and I couldn’t decide which character I wanted in which role so I opted for both.

=====

Finrod as a beach boy.  In hindsight it would be even funnier if I had put a tropical pattern on his shorts.

=====

Anyway, thanks for joining me here as I went through my old files in preparation for my hiatus.  Turns out I’m less organized than I thought, but hey, as long as you guys still like the drawings then I don’t mind.

#beleg #gimli #glaurung #legolas #mablung #treebeard #túrin #the man the myth the legends #one shiny #three shinies #everyone deserved better except mîm #my trash #heck yeah bromance #zeroth age stupids #forest pennies #contraband twizzlers #past tarva speaks #/end classification tags #SOME OF THESE ARE SO OLD #MY WORD #LIKE HECKIN TWO AND A HALF YEARS FOR AT LEAST THAT ONE #geez #rest in peace to the days when i used to draw daily just for the fun of it

[beevean]

Retranslating parts of the Curse of Darkness script

I thought to replay the game again, this time with Japanese voices to change the experience a little

I’m not sure whether the translation was JP -> ENG or ENG -> JP: it looks like the latter to me due to the lip sync. Anyway, the two versions are surprisingly faithful to each other, but I wanted to check if there were any interesting differences... and there are :P

For reference, I used this playthrough for the Japanese cutscenes, and the English script in the wiki.

First cutscene

Many interesting differences in this iconic cutscene. Isaac sounds much angrier in Japanese than he does in English, and I think he’s quite less effeminate too, although they couldn’t change his body language :P

ENG: With this, the most forbidden of arts, a wisp of conjured matter can be transformed into a hellish devil! There are but two humans who possess this magnificent power: you and I.

JP: A forbidden secret art feared by humans. Creating a devil that serves you and you only, from a bundle of magical power! There are only two people in this world who have mastered this power: you and I.

Additional details provided by the Japanese version: Devil Forging is “feared by humans”, implying their tragic pasts as outcasts of humanity, and Hector and Isaac aren’t the only ones with this power, but they’re the absolute best in their field. I also like the description of “bundle of magical power”, although both versions are equally “mystical” in this regard lol. Calling the Devil Forging “secret art” also refers to the name of the track playing in this scene, Flattery With The Secret Arts (“秘術との迎合”).

(speaking of “you and I”, Hector and Isaac use ore for themselves and kisama for each other.)

ENG: Ah, but you will, Hector. And soon! You have no choice. Without it, I could crush you in an instant... but that wouldn't be very satisfying, now would it?

JP: What's the point of a boring oath? It would be easy to destroy you here and now. You, who gave up your powers and became the lowest of the low, nothing but mere scum.

I love how in the cutscene you can see Isaac rolling his eyes at Hector’s oath so his snarky remark in Japanese is even more fitting 😂 but also geez man, I haven’t taken control of Hector yet and you’ve already killed him.

(if in English the last part sounds clunky, the original phrase is “ただのカスと成り下がった”: I really wanted to convey as much of Isaac’s contempt in English as I could)

ENG: You deserve a most gruesome fate for the humiliation you brought upon me three years ago.

JP: However, even if I destroyed such a thing, it wouldn’t make up for the humiliation I received three years ago.

The wording is vague, this is the version that makes the most sense to me. The Japanese line sounds even more bitter, as if even Isaac understands that it’s all futile and killing Hector won’t restore his old life, but he has literally nothing left other than his hatred.

(and yes, he says “such a thing”, which is a very Japanese expression but I’ve decided to keep it because, just in case it wasn’t clear enough, Isaac may be a little peeved at Hector :V)

ENG: But in the end, the glorious vengeance you seek will not be yours -- t'will be mine!

JP: That's it. I'll be waiting for you, as the former strongest Devil Forgemaster of the Dark Lord’s army.

No idea why they completely changed the line here, but Isaac’s farewell in Japanese is slightly more condescending. As a note, he actually calls Dracula “Demon King”.

Yes, all of these are Isaac’s lines. It’s not favoritism: Hector’s lines in Japanese and English are nearly identical to each other. Except for this one:

ENG: Heed my words. I will hunt you down like the beast you are. I will have my revenge!

JP: Very well! I'll do as you wish! And I will corner you, without fail!

... man, poor Hector doesn’t sound nearly as raw in Japanese :(

(well, this fits the different voices: Takahiro Yoshimizu sounds much younger and softer than Crispin Freeman. I had no idea Freeman carried most of Hector’s badassery)

Also, in the Japanese version, the name is for some reason translated as “Abolition Castle”! But the kanji correctly mean “Abandoned Castle” (“廃城”).

~

Creating an Innocent Devil

Minor, but Hector calls Isaac “polite” (“丁寧”) because he went through all the trouble of carving instructions on a stele, and after the previous cutscene I find it hilarious 😂

(actually, the whole mental image of Isaac taking the time to write guides for Hector is hilarious, they really used to be friends lmao)

ENG: O great powers of darkness! Release to me one of the tortured souls! Let me infuse him with my life-force and awaken him to the world of the living! Immaculate being... Appear before me now.

JP: O magical power, converge here! Play the melody of an irrational soul, under my command, a person who is not of the human world. Innocent soul, come to life here!

The Devil Forging formula was hard to translate. Yes, it uses musical terminology, しらべ (melody) and 奏でる (to play a stringed instrument). The most interesting part is how it specifies that Devil Forgemasters don’t belong to the human world, a theme quite pervasive in Hector’s and Isaac’s arcs.

(nothing interesting with the conversation with Zead. He simply calls Devil Forging “splendid”, a downgrade from “it’s enough to make your blood run cold”. He uses watashi and speaks rather politely.)

~

“Baljhet Mountains” is spelled as “Balget Mountains” (“Baljit Mountain Range” in Japanese), which I prefer.

Not much to report about the cutscene where we meet Julia. The most unique change is that she doesn’t outright say that she can envision the future in Japanese: she simply “has some knowledge” (“それなりの知識はあるわ”). To be fair, it’s not like we ever see her powers lol, although it ruins my headcanon about her and Isaac sharing powers :( As for her speech pattern, she uses watashi and often ends sentences in wa but she’s otherwise quite brusque. Hector calls her kimi, and most importantly forget about the Shakespearan style she and Hector use to talk to each other in English, here they speak like normal people :P

~

St. Germain

ENG: I won't bandy words with you. I have an urgent request. Please refrain from pursuing Isaac any further.

JP: I'm here to ask a favor of you, it's a little thing. Please stop chasing Isaac any further. 

St. Germain is even more polite in Japanese, as expected. He uses watashi for himself and speaks in perfect keigo.

Hector also calls St. Germain “Isaac’s minion” (“手先”) specifically, and St. Germain says “adios” when he leaves lol. (sonic adventure 2 reference?)

Garibaldi Temple is also the Cathedral of Garibaldi.

~

Trevor

ENG: For one that served under Dracula, you seem much too weak. It's been said that the Devil Forgemaster's power rivals that of Death.

JP: You’re too weak to be the only surviving Devil Forgemaster, who was said to be equal to Dracula's aide Death.

It just says that Devil Forgemasters are “equal to” Death, not that they’re specifically as strong as Death - obviously that’s implied, but the use of the word “同等” also implies that Hector and Isaac were equals to Death in rank. That’s pretty high up.

Also, “The only surviving Devil Forgemaster” makes Hector’s comment “Oh, so you’re hunting Isaac as well” flow a little better: you can see how he could make the connection that Trevor only knew about Isaac. In English the “surviving” bit was moved later (“Could he have survived? It cannot be”), and Hector’s comment feels more forced. (although it’s still odd because Isaac was into hiding all those years, so why does Trevor assume that one Forgemaster survived but the other died? oh well)

(of course, Trevor also uses ore for himself and kisama for Hector)

~

The cutscene at the beginning of Mortvia Aqueduct is unremarkable, but the level is named “Mortavia Ruins” (“Mortavia Aqueduct” in Japanese). Why did they take out the A? It sounds better :(

~

Zead vs. St. Germain

ENG: That's ridiculous. You have different rules for yourself--

JP: What a funny joke. Your objective--

Not only St. Germain comes off as more sarcastically polite (Zead calls him kisama but he reciprocates with the courteous anata), the dialogue hints more strongly at Zead’s suspicious nature. He has an objective that we aren’t allowed to hear, huh?

ENG: I cannot have you interfering any longer. 

JP: I won't let you get in our way anymore.

Yep, our way (“我々”). Just in case you didn’t find Zead suspicious enough.

Finally, not quite related to translation, but I find the name of the track playing here interesting: Those Who Desire the Resurrection (“復活を望む者”). I think it should be singular, for obvious reasons.

Also, please enjoy this utter mangling of “Jigramunt”:

(technically it says “Jigrumunt” in katakana, but the English spelling is just beautiful)

~

The siblings’ sad fate

Not much to report about the cutscenes with Isaac and Julia in Cordova Town (or “Town of Cordoba” in Japanese), except one line that hit me hard:

EN: And also... if you are the one to slay him... only then could I live with it.

JP: Only then I could accept it. Even if I lose my family...

I think we’re all sleeping on how much Julia was hurting through CoD, game itself included :( Michiru Yamane as usual gets it.

~

Fight with St. Germain

Eneomaos Machine Tower is the even weirder “Clock Tower of Eneomaios”.

Only one line stood out to me:

ENG: In this space, I may be partially freed of the fetters of time.

JP: If you are here, the shackles of time will be partially released.

Actually there is no subject in the first part, but I assume that St. Germain is talking about Hector because he just confirmed that he entered Zead’s “trap” normally. Again, I think it makes the conversation flow better.

~

Trevor vs. Isaac

Similarly to Geclmunt, the name of Aiolon Ruins gets twisted into Iororn Ruins. It’s spelled correctly in katakana.

And this line from Isaac baffled me for days.

ENG: You vanquished Lord Dracula by a fluke, a mere twist of fortune. Yet I grant, you are adept.

JP: Not for nothing you destroyed Lord Dracula, even though it was a fluke. But the game is just about to begin.

Other translations would be “no wonder you destroyed Lord Dracula...” or “as expected from the one who destroyed Lord Dracula...” (“ドラキュラ様を滅ぼしただけのことはある”).

While his voice still sounds angry, Isaac is much more impressed by Trevor in Japanese: in English he sounds like he’s tacking on the half-hearted praise by force, while in Japanese it’s the other way around, as if the “fluke” part is an afterthought. I am genuinely surprised. Isaac, hon, why are you being so flattering with the man who killed your Lord? So let me get this straight, you’re a complete ass to Hector, you called him scum, and sure I don’t blame you, but Trevor nooo, even though he ruined your life just as much as Hector did you’re standing there like “oh wow you’re awesome, now I know why Lord Dracula was defeated!”.

between this and the stabbing scene, i think i understand now why the japanese side of the fandom seems to prefer isaavor over isaactor. yeah. yeah i don’t blame y’all. and trevor ain’t kidding either, in english he says “you’re not without skill” but in japanese he says “you’re pretty good” - i’d say “just kiss already”, but isaac already got me covered so :V

ENG: On the contrary. To obtain the vengeance I seek, Isaac must be slain by my hand alone. Ergo, nothing was lost. 

JP: Not really. After all, I promised that I would defeat Isaac with my own hands. I’m rather relieved.

I like how Hector puts it as a promise, the one he made to Julia, and not just his own selfish sense of revenge. He cares and was touched by Julia’s sadness. On the other hand, he’s outright relieved that he still has the chance to kill Isaac himself, now that’s the badass Hector I know and love.

(this is also where Hector and Trevor switch to omae for each other, indicating that they’ve become closer allies, even if Trevor is still being a prideful asshole :P)

~

Rematch against Trevor

ENG: “Oh, so that is why he fought me earlier!”

“What is it, Belmont?”

JP: “Damn it! The battle earlier...!”

“Why are you panicking?”

Trevor is more worried about the fact that Isaac stole his blood, and Hector notices it. I like how more serious this version sounds.

ENG: This is your reason! Defend yourself! 

JP: No arguing! Let’s go!

I’ll just point this out because Trevor says “問答無用”, and when I searched it to double check if it had any other meaning, I discovered that yes, it does. It’s a porn genre, apparently. Just wanted to share.

But yeah, the English version is funnier this time :P

ENG: For now, hold the image of Isaac in your mind. Think only of defeating him. Hector... Hunt him down. And when you have him, show him no mercy.

JP: I want you to concentrate on defeating him now. I’m depending on you, Hector. Make sure you catch up with him.

Uh... well, the two versions say the same thing, but Trevor’s tone feels weird to me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, so I’ll just leave this here. In general, I never understood why he’s taking Isaac so personally.

~

The Infinite Corridor became the Corridor of the Inferno, wow! Interestingly, the first part of the Japanese name, “無間”, means “ceaseless”, but is also associated to the Buddhist Avici Hell (“無間地獄”), or Hell of Uninterrupted Suffering. Welp.

Nothing to report in the Stabbing scene, as much as I wish it was, except that listening to it in Japanese is an experience that needs to be had. this is the point where cod officially becomes an animated yaoi audio drama

~

Before Dracula’s Castle

I just wanted to show how much better the dialogue flows in Japanese :P

ENG: “I know not what happened to you in the past, but there is no time now for regret. We must try to cleanse the castle and dispel the vile curse...”

“If the curse from demonic power, I may be able to find the source! Indeed, I must, for this is something only I can do.”

JP: “I don't know what happened, but there’s no time to regret it. At the very least, we have to stop the curse somehow...”

“If the source of the curse is magical power, I might be able to do something about it. No, it’s something that only I can do. ”

Is this your idea of flirting, guys? :P

~

Rematch against Isaac

Much like the first cutscene, this one is juicier than the previous ones when it comes to dialogue changes. I don’t know why it’s Isaac in particular who changed so much in translation.

ENG: You want me to regain my powers. Now I see why. I fell right into your plot... After 3 years of peace, I'd lost my edge.

JP: You must feel good about yourself, don’t you? I fell right for your scheme. You’ve fallen so low... and so did I.

Finally it’s Hector’s turn to have a completely different, intriguing line. In English, there’s almost an undertone of... respect, for how Isaac played him like a fiddle? In Japanese, Hector sounds more biting (and tbf Isaac is even more of a little shit here lol, he’s like “Thank you so much for resurrecting the castle <3″) and much more disappointed in himself. No reference to his powers and how he was rusty: he doesn’t care about Isaac’s plot, he cares about the guilt he’s feeling. Then you remember how he was ready to die in the ending, and well...

The last line is “落ちぶれたものだ、この俺もな”. “落ちぶれる” means “to come down in the world; to fall low; to be ruined; to be reduced to poverty; to fall on hard times​”, or "a person's social status and standard of living deteriorate, and they become miserable”. Very... interesting choice of word, to say the least.

ENG: And I've sharpened mine. I've been waiting quite a long time to plot my revenge. Not only did my Lord die because of you -- you stripped me of my pride, my home. Now I shall make you suffer as I suffered. You shall die a most painful, gruesome death!

JP: It's merely an entertainment to me. Three years ago, you defeated me. And then I lost my Lord Dracula... my pride, a place to return to... Everything, yes, you took everything away from me. Have a taste of the same hellish torment and die in despair!

Obviously Isaac’s response differs, but that’s not the main point.

His final words hurt. “Have a taste of the same hell” should be the anthem of every tragic villain lashing out. Both versions are good, but I feel the Japanese one really points out how much Isaac suffered because of Hector’s actions: notice especially how “I plotted my revenge for a long time” (emphasizing Isaac’s role as the villain of the story) was replaced with “I was defeated by you three years ago”, originally in passive (emphasizing Isaac being a victim).

I wish they kept his scream at the beginning of the boss fight, though. That’s just raw :(

~

Not much to say about the “Zead is Death” scene, although TIL that in Japanese “black curtain” is a way to say “mastermind”. A bit of a different nuance, Zead doesn’t say “Devil Forgemasters alone are suffused in my master's magic” but “Devil Forgemasters are always [constantly] with my master's magic”. Hector calls Death “close associate” (“側近”). Death doesn’t say that Hector was the favorite but Isaac will do - thank you, I think my man was humilated enough :V

~

Dracula

For some reason, this cutscene feels like a bit of a downgrade in Japanese. For example, Dracula doesn’t greet Hector calling him “the traitor”, shame.

ENG: Why did you unleash your hatred upon the humans? When you began slaughtering them indiscriminately, I had no choice but to disobey you.

JP: Three years ago, when you showed your hatred for humans... I just couldn't allow it.

The Japanese version is vaguer, both in describing Dracula’s genocide and Hector’s reaction.

ENG: You side against me... for the sake of humans? Humans are not worth the air they breathe. I was simply cleansing the world.

JP: Is that so. But you must have realized... Human beings don't even deserve to exist. That's the truth of the world.

“Humans aren’t worth the air they breathe” deserved to be translated faithfully :(

ENG: The powerful always judge the weak. The humans made their judgment of me, as well. Thus I sentenced them... to extinction. Sympathy is merely a form of weakness. You betrayed me, Hector... And for that, the punishment is death.

JP: The powerful have the right [to judge humans]. The humans who destroyed me with their power... Yes, as if they were brandishing justice. But now I grow tired of this nonsense. Traitor... I'll make you pay the price of what you did three years ago.

See what I mean? It doesn’t feel the same. “Sympathy is merely a form of weakness” could have been kept.

(Dracula uses watashi for himself but speaks plainly. Hector doesn’t speak with respect to Dracula, but he still calls him anata.)

~

Dracula’s death

To compensate for how flaccid the previous cutscene was, Hector tells Dracula “rest in peace and perish” (“安心して、滅びるがいい”), and I think that is the rawest thing he has ever said in the Japanese version.

ENG: The struggle has ended. I feel I can let go now, and die in peace.

JP: It's all over. Am I going to die like this? That wouldn’t be bad...

For some reason the Japanese version feels sadder, like Hector just accepted in that moment that it would be better to die :(

(“That wouldn’t be bad” gets echoed at the very end, when Hector accepts to live with Julia, and that is enough to mend my heart lmao)

ENG: You see through it all, don't you?

JP: I'm no match for you, am I?

Okay this is cute lol

~

And that’s it! The last two cutscenes are very straightforward.

This was very fun to translate :D overall, I prefer the Japanese script in its changes, although the English script is iconic in its hamminess lmao. If the Japanese version is the translation as I think, they did an excellent job, and I appreciate how they adapted Hector and especially Isaac.

#castlevania #curse of darkness #long post #finally i'm done #this post was in my draft for the same amount of time it took me to beat the game #this script was very interesting to compare #perfect balance between correctly translated and just enough differences to add some spice #i think i'll take a stab at harmony of dissonance next #i have the feeling that that game is also hiding something juicy behind the translation