Tumgik
#had the same Amazing attitude towards crime
bump1nthen1ght · 9 months
Text
Playing His Game (M!Orc x F!Reader) Part 2
Pairing: Male!Orc x Female! Reader
Warnings: Explicit content under the cut (18+ ONLY), degradation
Request: Would you do a part two for Gramus the orc and the female reader? Like an established relationship but still the same kind of nsfw?
Six months in, you think you and Gramus are officially out of the honeymoon phase.
Don’t misunderstand, the relationship is still amazing, the two of you are still very much obsessed with each other. Conversations aren’t dull, the dates haven’t stopped, and you even discovered you have similar habits of living! This isn’t that slump where he finds out your breath smells rank in the morning or you find out he doesn’t know how to wash whisks and genuinely some magic is lost. No, things are just a little different now.
7 months ago, you’d be opening your door in a sexy outfit, hair done and makeup freshly immaculate, trying to bend the sexiest way possible to get your hot neighbors attention. Now, you’re in one of his big shirts and your comfiest Monday™️ underwear, watching him do the dishes as you sip on a rootbeer float.(He once said he hadn’t drank one since he was 7. You try to make them every date night) Your hair is half-messy, your face is nowhere near camera ready, but damn do you feel hot. And maybe its because you just ate a delicious dinner and don’t have to clean, or because your fine-ass boyfriend is wearing those work pants that fit him just right, but you are unabashadly horny in this moment.
Its why you tip-tap your fingers around his back and onto his stomach, pressing your braless chest against him and taking a deep sniff of his shirt. Gramus chuckles, one hand leaving the dishes to pat your arm.
“What are you doing, love?”
His voice is so deep, always so soft. You love it, but you love it even more when it gets rough.
“Nothing.” You mumble into his tshirt, still rubbing circles into his toned stomach. The mischievous smile on your face says otherwise. “Is it illegal for me to hug my boyfriend?”
“No.” He laughs again, rubbing the back of your palm as he runs a mixing spoon under water. “But you’re a naughty girl, so you always have something up your sleeve.”
“Thats a bold accusation, sir.” You say, giggling into his back. “What proof could you possible have?”
“Well, one of your hands is playing with my waistband, for one.” You laugh again, snapping the fabric of his shorts against him. “And the fact that we had sex 3 times last night, yet you’re still hungry for more.”
“What can I say,” You press a kiss into his back muscles, “I find it hard to control myself around my sexy ass boyfriend. Is that a crime…” You intentionally slow your voice, trying to sound as sultry as possible, “Officer?”
“No,” Gramus wraps a hand around your wrist and, in one quick moment, has flipped you both around, your back now pressed against the counter as he smirks over you, “But I don’t like your attitude, slut.” Gramus other hand comes up and grabs yoru jaw, forcing you to look him right in the eye. The dishes lay forgotten behind you, Gramus mouthing the question “Green?” as his thumb rubs across your cheek.
You nod, licking your lips before pretending to struggle in his grip. “I guess you’ll have to correct my behavior, sir. If you can handle me.” You quickly yank your wrist out of his hand, trying to use his gentleness against him and take off toward your bedroom. But Gramus is used to your naughty tricks by now, pivoting your inertia to a nearby cabinet and slamming you (as sweetly as possible) up against it. He uses his body weight to press down and keep you still, though you fretfully play-struggle some more. He kisses his teeth, chiding your failed attempt.
“Nice try, but you’re gonna have to use more of those whore brain cells of yours to get passed me.” Using his forearm, Gramus keeps you pressed against the cabinet while he reaches down and undoes his belt. The clink of it falling to the ground sends goosebumps down your arms, a familiar slickness pooling in your sweatpants. “Now, I expect you to make up for your insurbordination. Maybe I’ll be genereous and even fuck you after.” Gramus doesn’t need any force to push you down on your knees, your mouth already salivating at the prominent bulge in his pants. Those blue boxer briefs you got him the other day strain in between his open fly, making you wet your lips.
“I guess I have to work extra hard.” You pout, looking up at him with all the sluttiness in your arsenal. “After all, that cock looks really big.”
“Damn right, bitch.” Gramus digs his hand into your hair and yanks you forward, shuffling down his underwear and stroking his cock twice. The tip of it taps your lips and you can’t fight the urge to lap at the leaking slit. Gramus’ thumb yanks open your bottom lip, slapping his head against your eager tongue. “That’s right, down on your knees. Where you belong.”
Despite his brutal words, Gramus gently slides his cock down your throat. He waits for your eyes to widen and your head to nod before he slides deeper and deeper, trying not to trigger your gag reflex.
Such a softie. You think, wondering how you became so lucky to have him.
Gramus always makes the cutest faces during blowjobs. His closes his eyes and scrunches up his nose. Even when his big hands yank on your hair or his hips fuck into your face, you can’t help but think he looks so damn adorable.
Drool slips down your jaw as Gramus slots himself into your mouth all the way to the base. You give yourself an imaginary pat on the back as Gramus begins gently thrusting. He curses under his breath.
“Fuck, I love this mouth.” Gramus pants, rubbing his thumb across your jaw. “You know how to make me feel good, huh? Fucking whore.” Gramus gently slaps your cheek, just enough to make a sound but not enough to actually hurt. He mouths a timid “Green?” again, to which you nod. He could honestly hit your harder, but you know he prefers not to risk it.
Balls slap against your chin as Gramus picks up the pace, pulling the hand away from your face and leaning it against the countertop. The leverage allows him to move his hips even further, to pound the back of your throat. The gargle of cock in your mouth combined with Gramus grunts make your pussy ache. You decide to sneak one of your hands up his leg while the other goes down to your cunt. The schlick of your wetness is obvious, obvious enough to make Gramus chuckle.
“You’re such a cock-hungry bitch, huh? I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked.” You don’t rebut, instead using your tongue to lick up and down Gramus cock as it goes in out of your mouth. The countertop squeaks from Gramus nails clawing across them. He licks his chapped lips. “Probably want my cum huh? You’d probably swallow if I shot my load down your throat, wouldn’t you?” You nod eagerly, looking so debauched with bruised lips. Gramus smirks, but surprises you when he abruptly pulls out, leaving you gasping. He yanks on your hair, forcing you to stand and leave your pussy unattended. Panting, you look up at him with wide eyes. “Too bad I make the decisions around here.”
Gramus easily turns you around and bends you over the counter. He rips down your shorts with a single hand as he strokes his cock, whistling as he spreads open your pussy lips with two fingers. “Gods be damned, you are wet.” You don’t need assistance in opening your legs, Gramus easily sliding his dick across your wet folds, just catching on your clit. “I guess it’s for the best, wouldn’t want to break you. Though,” Between words Gramus shoves his cock to the hit inside you, stralignt he breath out of your chest, “ I bet you’d like that.”
While you’d typically respond with some snarky banter to keep the roleplay im lime, you find all you're capable of is a whimper as Gramus begins pounding your cunt. His calloused hands dig into your hips as he pulls you back onto his pelvis, nails leaving small half-moons on the skin. He slaps your ass hard and fast, pawing at the curve before hitting it again. You can only imagine how he throws his head hack, grunting with each hump, as your face is pressed into the cool countertop.
Gramus cock brutalizes your g-spot, his sweaty balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. The burn of his thick dick stretching you open makes your toes curl, some drool leaking out of your open mouth. Sparks fly up and down your abdomen and you know your lower back is gonna hurt tomorrow.
“F-fuck.” A throaty purr comes from Gramus mouths, slapping your ass again. He’s told you once before that he loves the way it jiggles, that it almost makes him cum every time. You wiggle your hips and push them onto his pelvis, getting another groan and a slap to your ass cheek. “Cheeky little thing.” He mutters under his breath.
“You know you l-love it.” You stutter, finally getting enough wits about you to back talk. But with drool all down the side of your flushed face, you doubt it's very intimidating.
“Damn right I do. Shit!” The knot in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter, Gramus flurried hips telling you that he’s also getting close. A thick palm circles around and grabs you by the throat, pulling you up while arching your back. “Say my name.” Gramus whispers in your ear, the pads of his fingers digging into your jugular. “Scream it.”
With your pussy clenching and your cervix as sore as it is, you doubt you could do anything but scream.
“Gramus! Gramus!” You yell, that knot finally snapping. Gramus shouts another “Fuck!” As your pussy puts him a vice grip, giving a couple more stuttered thrusts before cumming inside you.
You collapse onto the counter, your heavy breath fogging up the cool top. You can feel Gramus sweat dripping down onto your back, his head now laid in between your should blades as he catches his breath. A trickle of his cum runs down you legs, leaving a warm feeling in your gut.
“Damn,” Gramus mumbles into you back. “I forgot about the pans on the stove top.”
You sluggishly turn your head to the left, seeing the messy pot you used for spaghetti sauce tonight’s dinner. You chuckle.
“Sorry, I guess I was too distracting, huh?”
Gramus press a kiss into the center of your back, pulling his softened cock out of you.
“Trust me, it was a welcome distraction.”
Gramus presses another soft kiss to your lips, pulling up his pants and redoing his belt. He then runs a paper towel under hot water and begins wiping away at your legs, cleaning off the slow drying cum. A warm hand rubs your lower back.
“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
You sigh, shimmying up your underwear.
“Nope,” You give Gramus a peck in the cheek. “I think that was just right.”
168 notes · View notes
pearl-blue-musings · 2 years
Text
The King
This is completely self indulgent
Pairings: Monoma x fem!reader x Shinsou
Warnings: none, everyone is bad at feelings
Word count: 2.7K
Monoma Neito had never expected his popularity to actually rise and soar after his fabulous and amazing quirk helped save all of Japan. Soon, his days at U.A. were filled with opportunities and internships that truly helped him reach his true potential. It was truly magical for the Phantom Thief. He was getting paired up with heroes he’d always wanted to work with, working on improving the length of his quirk, getting to experience new quirks on his journey toward being one of the greatest heroes Japan had ever known. It was blissful! It was everything he’s ever wanted!
“Are you going through your accomplishments again?”
His reminiscing was cut short by his roommate and occasional partner in crime fighting, Shinsou Hitoshi. He’s met with strong lilac irises with a deep purple head of hair to match, along with a bored but knowing expression. The blond shakes himself from his thoughts and readjusts to his surroundings. He’s sitting at the island in the kitchen of the apartment he shares with Shinsou, as said man makes some dinner on a day off. Before Monoma is his open laptop, blue light shining in his face as he thinks over his life. Sure, he’s only 28 but it’s been a strange yet fulfilling life! Maybe someone in his future will want to know; and what’s wrong with writing about yourself so you don’t forget a thing?
“I’ll have you know,” he begins, “I’m typing it out to make sure I don’t forget anything. You may never know what can happen! Tomorrow is never promised, dear Shinsou.”
The man in front of him rolls his eyes with a tinge of pink coating the top of his ears and turns back to the stove. “Yeah yeah, just don’t forget (Y/n) is coming over soon for dinner.”
Monoma’s fingers stop typing as he feels his confidence waver a bit. “She is? I completely forgot! It’s cause we’re all working together for an upcoming mission, correct?”
Shinsou nods as he continues to make dinner. “The least you can do is set the table.”
The blond slowly nods, getting up from the island and grabbing his laptop as he heads back into his room. His heart is beating a mile a minute, his memories of early hero and sidekick work coming to mind. She is a dear friend of the twosome as they all worked as sidekicks at the same agency. She was everything he ever wanted in a person and then some. She never thought of him as pompous or over the top or full of himself. She accepted him for everything he is, attitude and all. It made him confused whenever he was alone with her and he found no words to say, no witty comebacks or anything. She really had captured his heart unknowingly.
Which is why he has been keeping his distance from you outside of work so he can focus on being the best hero without any distractions.
Shinsou was also very aware of this, partially why he had invited you over in the first place. He was overtly aware of his roommate’s feelings for you and wanted to help push the process along. The purple haired male was also close with you too, enjoying being around you as much as the blond. He was also getting tired of his jovial roommate getting depressed whenever rumors of you would surface regarding your dating life or seeing how well you work with particular heroes. Monoma would never admit it, so maybe the brainwashing hero would have to interfere. And interfere he did. He may have asked his sensei specifically for you to work with them in this mission not just only for your quirk but so then he can stop hearing his roommate mope and groan about you all the time. And maybe, just maybe, he could figure out just what is going on in his own heart.
As you approach your friends’ apartment, butterflies began to make a home in your stomach. Just why was your heart beating out of its cage so intensely? It couldn’t be because of Shinsou, could it? You barely knew of him or the blond, only meeting with your jobs and slowly building a strong relationship with them. But something about them always made you at ease yet wanting to strive to be better. And those ocean-like hues you’ve found yourself drifting off to sleep too every night? Or were they purple? Both? His words of encouragement whispering on repeat in your ear as you daydream during patrol? Surely those don’t mean anything at all as your palms clam up upon exiting the elevator. Each step matches the pounding of your heart from either nervousness or excitement, you’re not sure. Once in front of their door, you rasp against it loud enough for them to hear.
The door is thrown open and you’re met with mystical blue eyes and a faltering smile.
“S-so soon! My dear Shinsou didn’t tell me you were coming so early! P-please,” he steps aside from the doorway, “come in.”
You don’t pick up on his nervousness as you remove your shoes and put on some slippers. The lingering smell of dinner wafts through your nostrils and you hum happily. Unaware of your surroundings, you miss the way two separate pairs of eyes stare at your small grin and find themselves trying to hide their growing blushes. Monoma is quick to approach you once more, “let me take your jacket for you.”
The little gesture of kindness has your shoulders shivering as his fingertips graze across your skin, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck. “You’re not too cold are you? Can’t have my guest feeling uncomfortable.”
“And yet you make me uncomfortable 24/7”
You giggle at Shinsou’s sarcastic comment and their interaction as the blond behind you huffs and places your jacket in a closet. The two continue to banter back and forth as you situate yourself. You take note that the decor is equal parts Shinsou and Monoma; a strange combination yet it works. It’s inviting to you. Their voices raise as you reach the kitchen and take a seat near their kitchen island. You lift your nose in the air, humming hungrily, “Mmm it smells so good in here. I didn’t know you cooked, Shinsou!”
You miss the way he falters in his stance as he finishes up your meal. “Between the two of us,” he starts with a low rumble and getting closer to whisper in your ear, “one of us has to.”
The two of you snicker together which turns into full blown laughter. Monoma scoffs at the two of you and insists that he knows how to cook, claiming you’ll have to come again to have him cook. You rest your chin in your palm and hold his stare. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”
His eyes go wide and his overconfident exterior drops momentarily from your response. Very rarely is he at a loss for words, however these occupancies have been increasing lately. Due to certain people of course but he’s not talking. His eyebrows relax at seeing you and his roommate conversing as if you’ve been best friends for years. There’s a peace to this, he bemuses to himself, a peace he wouldn’t mind having for a long time. Perhaps he should write this in his early memoir—
Oh?
Did he just witness their hands touching in a way that just friends don’t do? And why did that make him ecstatic yet full of jealousy at the same time? What should he do?
“Time for us to eat, yes? (Y/n), I hope you admire the way I procured our best silverware and plates on our beautifully set table!”
You’re shaken out of your stupor and rush of heat to your cheeks as you and Shinsou turn to Monoma’s ridiculous announcement. The purple haired man quickly removes his hand and mutters under his breath before gathering the food and placing it on the table. A slight awkwardness occurs when both men come to help you sit, reaching for your chair at the same time. Two sets of eyes widen and mumbled words are shared before you ease the tension and sit for yourself.
Dinner goes by without a hitch, comfortable yet fun conversation between the three of you. Happy smiles and full stomachs shared by all three of you as the meal ends. You push back in your seat and move to get up. “Since you cooked Shinsou, why don’t I help with the dishes? It’s the least I can do.”
Both men pause from collecting the dishes on the table, shrugging together. “Uh, sure,” Shinsou questions as he sits back down briefly. “You don’t have to do that.”
Monoma interrupts and attempts to grab at your plate, unaware of his fingers making contact with yours. “No, you’re our guest! You shouldn’t have to do that.”
“You barely do it regularly,” Shinsou quietly quips.
“How rude—“
“Guys it’s fine,” you interfere with a raised voice. “I don’t mind. But uh,” your eyes find purple ones and your pupils widen unexpectedly. “Could you show me where everything is?”
You didn’t have to turn to your right to know that Monoma was slightly perturbed by not having alone time with you. He begrudgingly let go of the plate in your hand. “I’ll just grab the dessert wine then,” he said with defeat in his tone as he walks away to his own room. The two of you stay there briefly before getting up and gathering the plates. As you approach the sink and start washing alongside Shinsou, your mind is reeling and running with an array of thoughts. Apparently, so was his.
“Shinsou—“
“You should’ve asked—“
You both stop what you’re doing and share a hearty laugh, the dishes partially forgotten. Once the two of you have calmed back down, he motions for you to begin as you hand him a clean dish.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this but I… I wanna talk about Nei- er I mean Monoma.”
He smiles kindly and nods for you to continue. You breathe deeply and press on. “I don’t want to come off as presumptuous but…
“What’s your relationship with him?”
Your heartbeat increases upon asking him and your breathing has gotten heavier. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him with a slight blush and fidgety fingers. He lets out a sigh. “See that’s funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing.” He has a toothy grin and a hand placed on the back of his neck. His relaxed form moves away from the sink and toward the fridge. “The way you two look at each other, I thought he’d never look at me like that.”
“Like what?” You step a little closer to him and he also closes the distance. His voice is low and soft.
“Like you’re the king of his heart.”
You feel goosebumps rise along your skin, chest pumping with anxiety and something else you’re not sure of. You stride closer toward him, like you’re being pulled by a magnet. His hand that once was on his neck in nervousness now has fallen and is resting on your forearm. Your hands find purchase on his biceps as you look up to him. “And what does that make you?”
Shinsou shuts his eyes and rests his forebears against yours, your breaths mingling together. The world around you has disappeared and there’s just you and the man in front of you in a situation that you didn’t think would happen. Only in dreams had you thought this would happen. “A knight in the shadows, wanting the best for the people he cares about most.” His hand cups your face with intent to kiss your lips but the two of you pull away.
You’re first to break the silence. “Can’t we all be happy? Together?”
Before Shinsou could properly respond, Monoma returns from his room where he keeps his best wines. His eyes held a tint of red and were slightly swollen. The confusion on his face molds into hurt as he sees the dishes undone and the close proximity between two people he’s been harboring feelings for stare back at him. He scoffs and steps back. “Just what in the world is going on here?! Shinsou, you know how I feel for her. How could you?!”
Both of you separate further from each other. Without thinking, you rush up to the blond and pull him into a quick kiss to shut him up. Lilac eyes enlarge at the scene before him. He licks at his bottom lip when he sees his roommates hands rest on your waist and pull you closer into his fit body. You’ve also relaxed into the kiss as you melt into his touch. When the need for air becomes eminent, you break away reluctantly. An adorable blush comes to the blonds cheeks, his fingers touching his lips. “I’m confused! Weren’t you just about to kiss Hitoshi?! Just what is the meaning of all of thi- mmph?!”
Shinsou took a page out of your book and silences the befuddled man with his own lips, caging his face with his coarse hands. Shinsou presses his hips into the unassuming blond as he deepens the kiss, giving a soft and low groan before pulling away panting. Ocean eyes blink slowly, transition from the purple haired man in front of him and you. “Someone tell me what’s happening. I,” he struggles for the right words. “Were the two of you planning this?”
You quickly shake your head adamantly. “No! I mean, I was hoping to tell you my feelings or at least try to tonight! But I felt guilty cause I-I knew I also have feelings for Hitoshi and I didn’t think having feelings for my co-workers was okay and—“
Monoma places a finger over your lips to stop your rambling. He beams a confident and cocky smile toward you as he replaces his finger with his thumb, cupping your face. It’s almost as if he’s stolen the vigor you had as you find yourself getting flustered. “My dearest, you didn’t have to do all of this. Have my advances not been obvious toward you? I could’ve sworn,” he swipes his thumb across your parted lips, “I was doing my best to make you mine. Perhaps my flirtations with my own roommate made things difficult.” He’s about to kiss you when he snaps his head toward his roommate.
“And you,” he begins, “how long have you had feelings for her? And for me too? Come closer.”
With the dynamic between the three of you shifted, Shinsou blindly follows Monoma’s orders and approaches him. His hand is encompassed by the blonds free one and a chaste kiss upon the back of his hand. “I,” he stutters, “from the second time we had a mission together. She saved me from an attacker and took care of me.
“And I’ve had feelings for you since our last year at U.A.”
With his confession in the air, the three of you begin to chuckle, growing into a roar of laughter. You all fall onto the kitchen floor, backs resting against some drawers. You place your head in the crook of Monoma’s shoulder and mingle your fingers with Shinsou’s. You’re the first to break the silence. “We’re all pretty dumb aren’t we?”
Hitoshi hums beside you as his thumb rubs on the back of your hand. He lifts it to his mouth for a small kiss. Neito snickers and lays his head back with a deep sigh. “But now, I can claim that I, Monoma Neito, am the king of your hearts.” Two sets of eyes widen as you lightly punch Neito’s side. “I may have overheard you two.”
“I thought I was the king,” you mumble out.
“We can all be kings! That’s preferred, honestly.”
“Heh,” Hitoshi breathes, “and you still couldn’t tell the both of us had feelings for you. Some king you are.”
You laugh with him and you feel the blond beside you stiffen before giving him a ‘hmph’. The three of you continue to sit in comfortable silence as the feelings settle and what appears to be your reality is no longer a fantasy. Mutual thoughts are shared in the quiet of the kitchen as a wave of tiredness begins to hit you. It wasn’t from the intense emotions, but from the satisfaction, love, and care that has finally been unearthed.
62 notes · View notes
gamerdog1 · 1 year
Text
Saga of Tanya the Evil Season 1 Review
Sometimes it concerns me just a bit how much of the anime I like are all about the military. I mean, sure, it’s all fictional, but at the same time, I’m sure that there are other themes or motifs that would reflect much better of my viewing habits or personal beliefs. Still, there’s something that continues to draw me towards militaristic anime series. Whether it’s the idea of a never-ending battle against the forces of evil, seeing a character rise up the ranks of command as they grow as a person, or slick uniforms, I find myself watching anime that have some sort of military structure as their dominant governing body. (Fullmetal Alchemist, Attack on Titan, and Seraph of the End are just a few, to give an idea.) Yet, within each lies a unique perspective, a new take on the idea of the military and what it’s function is in society at large. Some explore the concept of war as an inevitable, righteous purpose, while others explore the ways in which dependency on conflict can lead to the destruction of a nation. However, few bother to ask the question: what kind of sick, twisted person would ever want to fight? Well, after twelve episodes, The Saga of Tanya the Evil offers a simple answer to this question, giving the story of a character who is sure to stay in my mind for years to come. 
Tumblr media
This anime follows Tanya Degurechaff, a ten year old girl who enlists in her country's military in order to secure herself a comfortable future once the war is over. Previously a middle-aged salaryman in modern-day Japan, Tanya is given a second chance at life after a disgruntled coworker pushes her into an oncoming train. Tanya, however, despises her divine savior, and sets out to achieve her goals in her new life without the help of a god, or ‘Being X’ as she calls them. Tanya sets out to rise through the ranks, doing whatever she needs in order to gain acclaim and safety in higher military positions, even if it means crushing others along the way.
Tumblr media
Tanya, for all intents and purposes, is no good person. For crying out loud, the series title calls her evil! Yet, through every struggle, I still found myself rooting for her, no matter how many horrible things she did. In fact, I found it difficult at times to try to dislike her! Tanya is the perfect example of a character so evil that she is lovable, in the same vein as classic Disney villains such as Ursula or Scar. There’s something about her, this attitude that she has, that makes her so endearing. She can be polite and respectful, and then fly off the rails not a minute later, all without losing her signature sense of superiority. The contrast between the appearance she puts up to her superiors and how she really feels makes for an interesting character, one that allows us to see her both as vicious and sophisticated. 
Tumblr media
There were many moments of Tanya’s brilliance and wit that had me chuckling to myself as I watched this series. In one episode, Tanya leads her squadron of magic-powered flying soldiers into enemy territory, where they find enemy artillery factories. She relishes in the idea of dealing a massive blow to her enemies, but knows that she cannot without issuing an evacuation warning to the civilians who are working there. So, she gets on the international frequency, and issues the warning in a high-pitched kiddie voice, technically fulfilling the legal guidelines of an attack on civilian areas. The factory workers, blissfully unaware, laugh at the announcement, before Tanya and her crew blow it all sky-high with glee. In any other show, this scene would be horrific, but here, I found myself cheering Tanya on, amazed by her cleverness and penchant for blowing things up. Even when she commits war crimes, she does it with such cunning and glee that I can’t help but smile with her. 
Tumblr media
It’s also, at least to me, quite refreshing to see a woman in the lead of a series like this. In most anime, as in real life, men dominate the military. With some exceptions, military anime usually leave the women at home to take care of children and stare out the window wistfully, wondering when their husbands will return from the war. Despite it’s resemblance to our world, though, Tanya’s country has no issues with women enlisting, letting girls and boys fight together for their glory of ‘The Fatherland’. Maybe that’s why they keep winning battles...
Tumblr media
Seeing a female lead in a series like this is quite empowering. Most war media, especially from Western studios, is male-dominated, and often feels like it has to justify women being soldiers in it’s fictional stories. Japan, it seems, has completely skipped past the cries of historical inaccuracy, and given us what we want. Kudos to them on that, because the female characters in this series are the ones that I found myself rooting for the most. Tanya and her companion Viktoriya have a dynamic quite like an evil genius and henchman, bringing them close while still keeping a dividing line between them through status. Watching them grow over the course of the series, I felt myself caring about them above all other characters, wanting to see them make it out of each conflict safely. 
Tumblr media
However, one of the most fascinating parts of this series was Tanya’s relationship with ‘Being X’. Tanya’s staunch atheism in the face of a literal god who holds her life in their hands is ironic, almost comical at times. She is given a second chance at life, yet refuses to believe. Then, in order to unlock her true power and help her comrades win each conflict, she must pray to that god, forcing her to submit before the power she reviles in order to progress towards her goal. Even when coming face to face with this deity, she refuses to back down, cussing it out and vowing that she doesn’t need it to get where she wants to go. Tanya’s stubbornness, combined with the threat of a true deity, creates a conflict that goes beyond the physical world that Tanya can control. No matter what she does, her life is in Being X’s hands, so all she can do is rage and bide her time. This, I believe, is a ticking time bomb that will hopefully be discussed further in the next season, and allow us to see more of Tanya confronting things that she cannot manipulate or shoot her way out of. 
Tumblr media
However, my thoughts on this series, like all series I have seen, are not without some criticisms. For one, this series falls into a trap that many militaristic series inevitably fall for. That being an over focus on boardroom chatter and old men discussing things. Not to sound like a hyper-active pre-teen who skips past all talking scenes here, but I found myself struggling to keep up with the many war strategy discussion scenes. I understand that they have significance in the story and the development of the world, but I think that the information could’ve been gotten across in an easier way. Or, perhaps, a lesser focus on those scenes, as while they explain the strategies that the army is planning, they don’t always connect with what Tanya and her squadron are doing. I found the boardroom of old military men to be quite boring, and hope that in future seasons, we get less of them, or perhaps a change in the way their scenes are shot. 
Tumblr media
Overall, though, I quite enjoyed this series. Sure, its quite more direct with it’s messaging and imagery than others I’ve seen, but for someone with a viewing history like me, its quite the refreshing viewing experience. I enjoyed getting to see a fictional war be portrayed as a confusing, seemingly never-ending bloodbath, rather than a righteous battle of good versus evil. It made it seem more realistic that way. I also really enjoyed the main character, and would recommend this series to anyone who loves arrogant, show-stealing villains. Tanya Degurechaff  is, to put it bluntly, a little bitch, but we love her for it. Every cunning trick, every backstab, every acrobatic battle just made me like her more. In the end, this is Tanya’s world, and we’re all just living in it. 
Tumblr media
7 notes · View notes
isfjmel-phleg · 2 years
Text
June 2022 Books
So much history this month. I’ll get it out of my system eventually.
The Hotel under the Sand by Kage Baker (reread)
I was reading a lot of heavy stuff and needed a break to read something relatively light-hearted and relaxing.
King of Scars and Rule of Wolves by Leigh Bardugo
I have such mixed feelings about these books. King of Scars was the better of the two by far. Rule of Wolves, in addition to a lot of content I wasn’t crazy about, felt like Bardugo was cramming two, three, four books’ worth of plotlines into one book, and nothing got developed in any especially meaningful way. I enjoyed the further exploration of Nikolai’s and Zoya’s characters, but their arcs didn’t really pay off for me. Nikolai’s ending in particular resorted to a royalty trope I am very tired of. And I wish I had just skipped all of Nina’s chapters, which mostly didn’t tie in to the story as a whole and...well, I just really, really didn’t like her plot.
The Crows’ cameos were gratuitous, but I was amused to see that literally all it takes to motivate these boys to commit crimes is to tell them it’s for Inej.
Born to Rule: Five Reigning Consorts, Granddaughters of Queen Victoria by Julia P. Gelardi
Interesting information, not always the highest quality of writing (pick a name to refer to a historical figure by and stick with, instead of referring to someone by formal name, nickname, etc. all within the same paragraph--majorly confusing if you’re not familiar with these people).
Archer’s Goon by Diana Wynne Jones (reread)
This book is amazing. You’ve already seen/scrolled past my posts on it, so I won’t repeat myself.
The Seventh Cousin by Florence Laughlin
1960s children’s book picked up at a booksale. Not of those middle-grade books that hold up well for the adult reader.
Mornings on Horseback: The Story of an Extraordinary Family, a Vanished Way of Life, and the Unique Child Who Became Theodore Roosevelt by David McCullough
American history is not my specialty. Too much of it in school, and once I discovered English (and some additional European) history, with all the royalty drama, there was no going back. But since I’m writing a character in a pseudo-Edwardian world who has asthma, I have been curious about how the condition was treated and regarded in the late nineteenth/early twentieth centuries, and how historical asthmatics dealt with their illness. Which is how I ended up reading a biography of Theodore Roosevelt, who had asthma as a child (actually, for his whole life, but that wasn’t the image he preferred to project).
I’ve ranted elsewhere about McCullogh’s misinterpretation of the nature of asthma, which was typical of the understanding of his day, but it’s really got me thinking about how asthma has been interpreted over time, and why there’s this persistent idea that it’s psychological and manipulative. In addition, there’s the concept of muscular Christianity and attitudes toward disability/chronic illness that had a major effect on Roosevelt’s upbringing and self-image, and I have a lot to think about regarding how this connects to my OC.
(I do read history with the idea of stealing things for stories, but really, historical information is fascinating in its own right, and I love being able to bring my love for stories and for history together into something creative.)
Ena, Spain’s English Queen by Gerard Noel
I have so much sympathy for this woman.
Also I will never read Betsy and Tacy Go Over the Big Hill the same way again. There’s a chapter in that book in which Betsy, Tacy, and Tib develop a collective crush on the young King of Spain (and write him a letter, which even gets a reply from a royal secretary!). Ena was married to that particular king, and he was the worst. Betsy, Tacy, and Tib dodged a bullet there.
Victoria’s Daughters by Jerrold M. Packard
You probably witnessed my numerous tirades against a biased and sexist biographer. This is the one.
Heidi by Johanna Spyri (reread)
Read because I need to respond to a question about comparing this book to TSG. Still dragging my feet on that.
Father of the Bride by Edward Streeter
Picked up at a booksale. I’ve seen the 1991 film (but not the older adaptation), and I think I much prefer it to the book. The book has a lot of rather dated humor of the “women, amirite?” variety. It’s not just that weddings are being satirized, but women themselves tend to be viewed as ridiculous, controlling, etc. The 1991 film emphasizes the father-daughter bond, which gives its story the heart that makes it work; in the book, there’s much, much less of that, and the protagonist in general feels more resentful of his family than anything else.
The Camera and the Tsars: The Romanov Family in Photographs and Queen Victoria’s Family: A Century of Photographs 1840-1940 by Charlotte Zeepvat
No better way to immerse oneself in a historical setting than lots and lots of photographs. Great resources.
Romanov Autumn: Stories from the Last Century of Imperial Russia by Charlotte Zeepvat
While some chapters were more interesting than others, this was a fascinating book full of personal perspectives on the lives of Russian royalty from the reign of Nicholas I to Nicholas II.
6 notes · View notes
Text
Rambling About a Show (10/11/2022)
Tumblr media
⚠️SPOILER?!⚠️
So, I started this on Sunday (10/09/2022) and finished it today. My thoughts are gonna be a bit backwards with this one.
Yo, what kind of ending was that?! 🤨 I’m not even mad about it, however it has me asking a lot of questions. 😣 I cried when Jung Sa-bin gave the rings back to Kim Soo-hyuk, explaining that she knows who is truly in her heart. From what I understand with the ending it implies that Cheon Jong-beom and Jung Sa-bin end up together. I’m only basing that off how I interpreted the ending. Even if it was a bit confusing (to me) to begin with. 
I have to admit that the reason I was watching this was because of Lee Soo-hyuk. I think I’m gonna end up mentioning this for every drama I watch of his. 🤣 I honestly think I’ll do that for any actor and actress that I enjoy watching. 🤣 He may have been the main reason for me, but I stuck around for the plotline. A few other reasons I stuck around is because it’s a crime show. Which I love crime shows. Also I enjoyed the idea of the red string theory, and reincarnation.
So, they mentioned broken heart syndrome later in the series. I can’t remember the exact episode it was mentioned in. Then it was brought up again towards the end. Well, both times I cried about it. Because it hit close to home for me. Due to the fact that, that was mom’s cause of death. Granted this series had me crying several times. I’m not even kidding. 🤣 Pretty much EVERY emotional or tear jerking scene had me crying. ESPECIALLY when  Cha Hyung-bin’s remains were buried by Jung Ha-eun. When this happened it came to light of why Cha Hyung-bin had approached Jung Ha-eun in the first place. The guilt that man had carried all that time. 💔
Listen, the way Detective Cha Hyung-bin was protective and loved Jung Ha-eun, it was heartwarming. I felt that he was a cheesy romantic but I loved it. Then we have Prosecutor Kim Soo-hyuk. He’s a badass with a smug, it has to be my way, attitude. The complete opposite of Detective Cha hyung-bin. Even though Soo-hyuk was a bit of dick, I ended up liking his character. Though I didn’t like the way he went about prosecuting people. But it is what it is.
In the case of  Gong Ji-chul and Cheon Jong-bum. Even though both were innocent for the most part. I still didn’t like the fact that he was stalking  ung Ha-eun and Jung Sa-bin. Like, I’m glad Gong Ji-chul’s named was cleared, but still his behavior was a excessive and unsettling. Same with Cheon Jong-bum. Jang Ki-young did a fantastic job of portraying both characters.
I’m glad that in the end Prosecutor Kim Soo-hyuk began the process of correcting all his wrongs. I teared up when he resigned as Prosecutor but later showed up as an Attorney. The way his belief had changed was also amazing as well.
Of course there were a ton of plot twists in my opinion. Every twist kept me intrigued. I lost a lot of sleep over this series because I’d rather have answers than sleep. 🤣 That’s just how good it was to me.
3 notes · View notes
outsidemyhead · 2 years
Text
What does it mean to be a moderate today?
WOW!  Way to start off with the gut punch of all questions.  Well, to be honest, being a moderate today is kind of like being a beat cop – everyone hates you until they absolutely need you, but even then you are usually considered incompetent, stupid, or both.  Oh, and just because they called you doesn’t mean they won’t throw urine at you.  For the record, that’s not meant as an insult to police.  I was a cop for a decade, and it’s the most stressful, emotionally damaging job I’ve ever had, which might explain, at least in part, why I hate people so much.  The problem isn’t usually the cop, it’s the publics’ attitude towards police that is usually the problem.  Oddly enough, pretty much everyone will tell you that you can’t judge an entire group by a few bad examples, but they absolutely lump all cops into the same group as one or two guys/gals who fuck it up for everyone.
I’m going to share a little something with all of you before we get too far into this.  This is important, so prepare yourself.  Ready? Here we go.  I’m an asshole.  I swear a lot, I have my own opinions, and I’m not at all afraid to voice them. Also, I generally don’t like people (except you!  You are amazing, and I love you!), so I truly don’t care if people like me or not.  I say what is on my mind, usually unfiltered, and I don’t care if it offends you.  Regardless of what you may think, hurting your feelings is not a crime.  Deal with it.
Back to it.  Here’s the thing, the far right hates moderates for not being “Republican enough” but needs us for our votes.  They call us RINO’s (Republican In Name Only) for the slightest deviation from the party line. They use name-calling as a form of peer pressure to try to bully us into compliance.  The far left hates us for not being “Liberal enough” but court our votes when they need us. They use name-calling as an attempt to silence us.  They call us every name known to mankind… I mean personkind… them-kind?  Screw it!  You know what I mean!  (More on this later).
Being a moderate today means not fitting in… anywhere.  You aren’t a Republican or a Democrat.  It means being the target of attacks from both sides for simply having your own opinions.  It means believing in compromise, but knowing it’s not likely to happen ever again.  Being a moderate means walking a lonely road across the political landscape by yourself, with only your wits and common sense to guide you.  It means avoiding eye contact with those on the right and the left, hoping they don’t demand you state your position.  It means hoping for the return of the days when people actually talked to each other with a little respect, even when they disagreed, but fearing those days will never return.
Let’s face it.  None of us likes being called names.  As odd as it will sound, that’s exactly why they – the right and the left – do it. Both sides have figured out that if they insult you enough and belittle you, eventually you will be so afraid of them that you’ll stop expressing your own opinion.  If you are afraid of them, you will remain silent.  A silenced population is easy to control.
Maybe the worst part about being a moderate is the assumptions people make about us.  An example? Thanks for asking!  If, during a conversation, I voice support for the 2nd Amendment, people on both the right and the left assume I’m anti-abortion and anti-immigration, to give just a quick example.  Simply for being pro-gun, people on both sides assume I toe the party line on every issue.  That’s really sad, for many reasons.  One, it bothers me when people make assumptions about me like that.  It limits the chance for conversation. Also, it generally means they think I’m as close-minded as they are.  Personally, I also think it’s a little insulting, because it means people don’t think I’m actually intelligent enough to form my own opinions.
Now I’m going to point out something that should really bother you.  Ready? A quick scan of Congressional reports (co-sponsors and voting records specifically) shows that there are more moderate Republicans in DC than there are moderate Democrats.  I bet you can’t guess why.  Okay, I’ll tell you!  (I’m horrible are keeping secrets).  Republicans are morally opposed to ‘identity politics’.  Identity politics push more Democrats further to the left simply for votes. It’s that simple.  Take a look at Amy Klobachur(D) from MN, if you don’t believe me.  Throughout her career, she’s been widely respected as a mostly moderate Democrat, but once she hit the stage as a Presidential candidate, she was pushed to the left in an attempt to sway the progressive vote.  Now, in order to preserve her reputation and avoid being targeted by progressive activists, she is forced to remain further to the left than she has ever been.
The problem I have with identity politics is that it creates a hierarchy of victimhood.  Yeah, I said it!  With identity politics, the more ‘repressed group’ catagories you can check, the higher on the victimhood chart you place.  If you don’t check any blocks, then your voice doesn’t count.  Identity politics doesn’t guide legislation or create unity.  It forces people to categorize themselves and others to find out who is deserving of their own freedoms, and even to deem others unworthy of rights.
This isn’t exactly new, either.  I’ll give you a personal experience example from… almost thirty years ago.  I had decided to apply for a job with Border Patrol, so I called the toll free number to request an application packet.  I spoke with the woman who answered the phone for a few minutes, when she said (and I’ll never forget her exact words), “I’m happy to send you a packet, but do you really want to waste your time applying if you won’t get the job?”  I ask her what she meant, and she explained.  She said, “I can tell from you voice that you’re a male, probably white, and you already said you are a veteran with some college.  Okay, so you get perfect scores on the knowledge exam, physical assessment test, and psych profile.  That’s 100 points, plus the five points for being a veteran.  So 105.  Candidate B is a gay, black women with a college degree who is also a veteran and partially disabled.  She gets a combined score of 30 on her tests, which is the lowest possible score.  Ten points for being gay, twenty for being black, twenty for being female, five for being a veteran, twenty for her partial disability, and ten for having a degree.  That’s 115 points.  Do you still want me to send the application packet?”  I thanked her for her time and hung up.
Think about that for a minute.  A candidate with a perfect score is beaten out for a job by a candidate who got the lowest possible score.  That’s what identity politics has caused.  Ultra qualified candidates don’t get jobs because they don’t check enough of the right boxes.  Yes, I know, I’m white and male.  That means, historically, that I’ve had privilege.  News flash – being male and white shouldn’t disqualify me or anyone else from a job.  
1 note · View note
secretmellowblog · 3 years
Text
I know I’ve said it before but really, the Hobbit is nothing but a Heist Story where the twist is that they're stealing from a dragon! It's literally Ocean's 11 but it's Thorin's 14!
The story is about a sheltered fussy gay old bachelor learning to become a master Burglar! There's a sequence where the protagonists all get sent to fantasy-prison by the elf-cops and Bilbo has to break them out! This is why the Hobbit is such a good children’s book. because it's about how crime is fun and the best way to get out of your comfort zone and make friends is by pulling wacky heists!
I think my favorite moments in the Hobbit are the ones where Burglarly is described in the way authors would usually describe Knighthood: in glowing terms, as an honorable profession with a deeply respectable history. Being good at Breaking the Law and Thieving is something worthy of accolades and praise (as long as you’re stealing for Honorable reasons). I love things like, the moment where the Elf-King wishes Bilbo a good day with the line:
"May your shadow never grow less (or stealing would be too easy).”
Tolkien understood that epic fantasy stories are the best when they’re actually heist stories in disguise!
648 notes · View notes
xaphrin · 3 years
Text
I am hoping to post this whole fic all at once, but I was so happy with this chapter that I wanted to share it. So, here. Have some "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with my wedding baker" AU.
- - -
When Damian opened the door to find Raven standing in the hallway, the expression on her face spoke volumes about her feelings of being here when most people were dead asleep.
She adjusted the large plastic container in her hands and shook a lock of hair out of her eyes. “You are aware that it’s two in the morning, right?”
Damian knew. Of course he did. A part of him almost felt apologetic for calling Raven and forcing her to come to his home in the middle of the night (especially over something as insignificant as lemon curd), but with the premium he was paying her for an off-hours house call, he didn’t allow that apology to take root. He’d been accused of being a “night owl” on more than one occasion, but the truth was that he suffered from occasional bouts of insomnia. And if he had to suffer through this ailment, then so should others - including the baker for his wedding.
“I’m paying you enough to make up for your interrupted sleep schedule.” Without any ceremony, he ushered her into his penthouse, closing the door behind her. Titus pushed past him and nudged Raven’s hip, begging for pets. Damian couldn’t help but notice that Titus paid Raven more attention than he paid his own fiance. “Sleep when you’re dead.”
Raven’s lips pulled to the side in a teasing half-smile, her eyes meeting his. “How chivalrous of you.” There was a small pause as she set the plastic container down on a small table by the door and bent down to scratch Titus behind the ears. “You know that your night time doorman seems to think I’m here for purposes other than cake. Why else would some strange woman be visiting you at an unreasonable hour?”
Damian didn’t care what his doorman thought, and he highly doubted Raven cared. She was just trying to get under his skin. He shrugged and turned away from her, motioning her to follow him deeper into his flat. “I hardly see how that is my problem. Besides, didn’t you say that you get up at four in the morning anyway?”
Her face fell. “That is entirely beside the point, and you know that, Mr. Wayne.”
“You can call me Damian.” He had reminded her of that fact at least half a dozen times now.
“Ha.” Her sarcastic laugh made him smirk. “No one calls a Wayne by their first name. It’s akin to social suicide. I’d be willing to bet that you even call your father Mr. Wayne.”
Damian walked her through the massive living room, heading towards the kitchen at the far end of his flat. “Only on holidays, and the occasional birthday.”
Raven snorted. “Ah. I see how deep the decorum runs.” As they walked into the kitchen, her face lit up with surprise, and she let go of a low whistle. Pushing past him, she inspected the appliances with blatant envy. “Do you even know what I would do to have this oven in my posession? I would commit war crimes to get this oven in my apartment.” She opened the oven doors and looked inside before standing up and turning to him, eyes narrowing. “Is this just for show? Do you even bake?”
“No.”
Raven closed the oven door and sighed. “Pity.”
“I cook.”
That seemed to pique her interest, and she leaned against the marble countertop, watching him with a sharp stare. There was a long stretch of silence, and it felt like her eyes were boring into him, stripping away everything that protected him until it felt like each flaw was exposed to her scrutiny. In any other situation, Damian would have slammed up some kind of barrier to keep her from looking too deep, but this time he found himself oddly comfortable with letting her investigate him. He didn’t mind showing her his weaknesses, and that thought should have scared him, but it didn’t. He kept his face blank and let her watch him.
“You know… I am having a hard time imagining you slaving over a stove in a hot kitchen.” Her head tilted to the side and she smirked. “Although I like the thought of you wearing a frilly apron. A soft pink one, with ruffles and bows.”
His face fell and he crossed his arms over his chest. Cheeky. “I am docking your home visit fee until you take that back.”
“Mm. Worth it.” She turned away from him, and reached for the plastic container on the counter, unsnapping the lid. In an instant, Titus was at her side and Damian watched her sneak him a treat she had obviously made for him. Raven seemed to make herself at home in his kitchen, as if she belonged there. He found himself smiling at her, and a strange kind of warmth filled his chest.
“So, tell me your fear with the lemon curd, and why it was so imperative that you force me out of bed at two o’clock in the morning to travel all the way across town with cake samples.”
Well, when she put it like that, it did make him sound like a typical, spoiled son of an eccentric billionaire. Damian ignored that small spot of guilt again and settled on a stool at the eat-in counter. “I think my fiance is allergic to lemons… or curd. I can’t remember, but it’s one of those.” He thought for a long moment, trying to remember what it was that she had said last time he had spoken to his fiance.
“You can’t remember?” Raven turned back around and looked at him, her expression incredulous. “Haven’t you two known each other for years? That's what all the tabloids say anyway.”
Oh, right. The tabloids were spinning the relationship into some falsehood of star-crossed lovers who used to be childhood best friends. The truth was far less interesting. “We have known of each other for years. We’ve crossed paths at various parties and events, and my father and hers have a mutual business relationship. But, knowing each other implies some kind of deep, long term relationship. Something more than casual friends.”
“Ah.” Raven rummaged through his cabinets for plates, setting them next to the plastic container containing cake samples. “And I take it that’s not what you have with the daughter of Queen Consolidated?”
Damian shrugged, knowing that talking about the arrangement was opening himself to all kinds of scrutiny from her. But, there was something about Raven that made it almost comfortable to open up to her. In all the times they had been together, she never seemed like the type to spill his secrets. In fact, she seemed to keep them closer than most people he knew. He actually liked talking to her - even with her cheeky attitude. “We’ve only been together in an official capacity for a few months.”
“Oh…”
Her tone seemed to waffle between pity and understanding, and Damian felt like he had to scramble for an explanation. It felt like he didn’t want her to think less of him as a person.
“The marriage is one of a business nature. Our families would be brought together with the marriage of children. It would strengthen the ties between us.” After saying it out loud, Damian realized how cynical that sounded. It was more than just a business move. For all intents and purposes, he liked Emiko, she was smart and polite and reasonably attractive. Marrying her was a good, sound move. He would be content though their marriage.
“I didn’t realize that was still a thing - marrying for business purposes.” Raven pulled out cake samples from the plastic box and placed them on the counter. “Sounds a little medieval, if you ask me.”
Damian shrugged, not feeling any particular way about her comments. “She’s a lovely woman.”
“Is she?” Raven scoffed. “My landlady is a lovely woman. The mail person is a lovely woman. The person who delivers my takeaway is a lovely woman." She gave him a flat stare, pursing her lips. "Lovely woman is not a term of endearment you use for someone you're madly in love with."
"I never said I was madly in love with her."
"Ah. I see. I must have misunderstood." She handed him a slice of cake, her eyes as sharp as a hawk’s as she watched him. "Raspberry and chocolate." She paused. "Is that the business agreement to the marriage then? You marry Emiko Queen, and in return both families have fingers in each other’s pots… so to speak.”
"Yes." Damian took a bite of the cake, and he tasted the sharp tartness of the raspberry at the forefront of the cake before melting away to luscious chocolate. Just like the first time he tasted her cakes, he barely kept himself from moaning in pleasure. She had to bake magic into her cakes for them to taste this damn good. He chewed slowly, letting himself wallow in the flavor.
"Does she love you?"
Damian swallowed and stared at her. The question caught him off guard. He knew for certain he didn’t love her, but he had never really thought about whether or not she loved him. "That's forward of you."
"Asking if your fiance loves you?" She snorted and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "You're right. How rude of me." Another slice of cake appeared. "Pistachio and cardamom."
He took a bite and tamped down a shiver. She was a magician, there was no other explanation. The flavor curled in his mouth like spiced smoke. "It'll be a fine arrangement."
"Mm. How romantic, an arrangement. Be still my fluttering heart."
Damian rolled his eyes and took another bite of cake. "I am amazed you manage to keep clients with the mouth on you."
She gave a one shouldered shrug. "I let my work speak for me." There was a pause and she leaned over the counter to look closer at him, trying to decipher his expression. “But you never answered my question. Does she love you?”
Damian blinked, letting her question settle in the pit of his stomach. Did his fiance love him? He doubted it, but then again, he never thought to ask. Emiko wasn’t frigid to him, but she wasn’t overly attached either. Indifferent seemed to be the best way to describe her feelings, as though she cared for him as nothing more than a distant friend. She seemed to view this arrangement the same way he did - a duty to her family and a business transaction. Nothing more.
“Your silence speaks volumes.” Raven’s head tilted to the side and she stared at him again, blatantly reading his face. He felt uncomfortable, letting her sharp eyes watch him. She seemed to see more than anyone else had. “I see hundreds of couples a year, and I’ve learned to pick out who truly cares for each other, and who really doesn't know what they want."
Damian took another bite of the pistachio cake, never looking away from her face. Even when she was picking him apart, she was beautiful. "And I take it that you believe I'm the latter?"
"I don't just believe, I know." She handed him another slice of cake. "Orange spice."
"I'm not particular about marrying for love. I've never subscribed to the idea." The orange spice was by far the best, and it immediately went on the short-list.
A pitying look crossed her face. "You don't believe in love?"
That question made him pause, and he looked back at her, his head filled with something akin to smoke. It was like he couldn’t think beyond her question. "I… don't know." He realized with some small amount of shock that he really didn't know. As he sat there, watching her, he realized that he never thought he would fall in love. He had crushes and minor relationships, but nothing that he would call love. Nothing that made him feel like the world was falling out from under his feet, and he was left clamoring for something that made him whole.
“You look surprised by your own answer.” Raven’s voice was soft, nearly swallowed up by the silence between them. “Did you honestly think you would never fall in love?”
“I suppose I did.” Damian took another bite of cake and shifted in his seat. “Love never seemed like something I gave much thought to. My duty has always been to my family, and as long as I am comfortable, I don’t see the need for much else.”
Raven pulled out another slice of cake. “Have you thought that maybe you haven’t met the right person?”
Damian’s face fell and he stared at her, taking the slice of cake from her. “That seems a trite response.”
She shrugged. “Perhaps. That’s vanilla and rose water.”
Damian’s face scrunched at the flavor and he pushed it away. “That rose water is abhorrent.”
A soft laugh escaped and Raven shook her head. “Rose water is very en vogue right now. I’m not fond of it, but some people like it.” She took the slice back and leaned against the counter. “So, tell me if you don’t mind, why are you putting all this effort into a wedding with someone you don't have feelings for?"
"It's meant to be a performance." He hummed softly, thinking. “Both of our families have a reputation to uphold, and if we don’t live up to that expected standard, the media will tear us apart. Emiko doesn’t need any poor publicity.”
“Mm. I understand to a point.” She paused and pulled out another slice of cake. “You’re very pragmatic about this.”
The way she said that didn’t sound like a compliment. Damian took the offered cake. “I don’t require your approval.”
“I never said you did. I’m only in this for the absolutely exorbitant fee you’re paying me.” She smirked. “But… I am curious, don’t you want to fall in love? Just once?”
“And who would I fall in love with?” He took a bite of cake and practically sighed. Chocolate and orange.
“You’re a Wayne. More than half the world would be willing to fall in love with you. Take your pick.”
“I don’t think you can force love.”
Raven shrugged. “Well, your upstanding camaraderie with your fiance doesn’t fit the bill either.”
He blinked and took another bite of the cake. This was the one. “I never intended to love her. Our partnership will be fine.”
Raven lifted an eyebrow. “So… what happens if you fall in love with someone before you get married?”
“I hardly think that will happen.” He scoffed and took a third bite of the cake. He doubted he would find anyone who could coax him to fall in love. That seemed like an impossible task. “And even if I did, it changes nothing.”
“You’re so committed to this marriage. It’s admirable.” Her smile widened. “I take it the orange and chocolate one is the winner? You’ve eaten half the slice already.”
“You’re talented at this.” He took another bite and met her stare. “What about you?”
“I think the chocolate orange will both make a statement and still be appropriately conservative.”
“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes searched hers, and he suddenly realized he had to know. He had to know if there was anyone in her life that meant more than just a friend. He wanted to know who her heart beat for. “Are you in love?”
Color crawled up her neck. “That’s a pretty personal question to ask your baker.”
Damian shrugged. “For what I’m paying you, humor me.”
She chewed on her lower lip and glanced away, and she shifted for a moment. “Currently? No. I was in love once, but… it faded.” She looked back into his eyes. “But that doesn’t make it any more special and important.”
"And you want to fall in love again?" He felt strange and a little invasive asking these questions, but some part of him wanted to know. He wanted to know not just about falling in love, but Raven falling in love specifically. Would she fall in love again? And with whom?
"Of course." Her voice was soft and gentle, and she gave him a small, almost sad smile. "I haven’t found the right person to fall for just yet. But it’ll come.”
Something in Damian’s chest twisted and he found himself reaching across the counter to rest his hand next to hers. It was as close as he dared to get to her. She met his stare for a long moment, and that feeling in his chest turned almost painful. He wanted to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, to feel her skin under his fingertips, but his hand stayed firmly pressed against the cool marble of the counter.
He swallowed slowly and nodded. “The chocolate orange.”
199 notes · View notes
roll-da-credits · 2 years
Note
Just saw this and your writing absolutely love all of it! Could I request #25 after a long day of work and class with Shouto x Katsuki x self-insert/reader? Aka the reader left bed before the sun ☀️ was up and doesn’t get home till late after it has set again.
I’m a spunky Geologist turned Special Ed teacher working on her masters in teaching so she can teach Highschool science here in the next few years. I am 5’ 6” covered in several piercings and 2 half sleeve tattoos. I am also very quirky, fun loving, and snarky when it comes to those I love. Also very much a good mix of outwardly looking like the adult I am, but inside I am very much a nerdy dorky little kid!
Congrats again on 250+ followers!!! That’s so amazing! Keep up the great work Dumpling 🥟 ❤️❤️
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Day 25 - Cuddles Shouto x Reader insert x Bakugou
Event masterlist (you might be asking, hm Creds why do you have 2 for Day 25? Cause I'm an idiot and forgot to write TAKEN for the Day 25 and 2 people already requested and I felt bad declining one :)PS I hope you don't mind me changing the request slightly and this being more of a Bakugou's pov than it is your pov.
Tumblr media
Patrol was rough.
Extremely rough.
It wasn't anything extra difficult like trying to defeat a superpowered villain whose quirk is a literal cheat code in the system. The crime-fighting wasn't that bad, simple petty criminals.
It was the people Bakugou and Shoto had to deal with that made today so tough. Bakugou always had a short temper, that much is known about him. But after becoming an actual pro hero, he, with the help of 2 of his lovers, has been trying to fix his attitude.
Whatever progress they had made immediately crumbled today. It started out as a normal interaction. After taking down some robbers, some of his and Shoto's fans, alongside many reporters came to see the scene. This was normal for them, both of them were used to the attention, being some of the most popular and strongest pro heroes of their time, it was only natural attention followed.
It wasn't until one annoying woman came into the view that destroyed the entire mood. Turns out the robbery happened across her home, with the noise ruining her morning, she had thought it would be a good idea to give the two heroes a piece of her mind.
What ensued there was documented by the fans and the news outlets. The woman began screaming and yelling at everyone to quiet down, not caring about the policemen's explanation, choosing instead to scold and demand the two heroes for compensation for her ruined morning.
Bakugou was trying his best to keep his calm, whilst Shoto tried to calm the woman. Until the woman started yelling slurs at them both for liking the same gender and insulting you. That was when Bakugou finally exploded.
An explosion caught by the camera. One that was stopped only because Shoto separated the two using his ice.
Throughout the entire rest of the day, the incident seems to follow Bakugou and Shoto everywhere. With every single reporter trying to follow them around and get a statement on it.
It got to the point where eventually their agency told them to take the day off, wanting to let the fire die down before it gets any worse, and Bakugou's reputation falls even more.
"You have to calm down, it wouldn't benefit anyone to blow up like that," Shoto spoke softly, as he usually does, as the couple walked to their home.
"How the fuck was I supposed to stay calm when she was attacking us?!" Bakugou yelled.
Shoto sighed it wasn't easy dealing with the exploding man (pun intended). After all, he himself was exhausted. He just hoped you were at home. Considering how you left before they both woke up, which was rather odd since he and Bakugou woke up pretty early, he guessed you had a big day.
His prayers were answered though when he opened the door and saw you lounging on the couch. Hearing the door opened you turned towards them. One look at your face made them both know you were aware of their situation earlier in the day.
"Cheer up guys! Judgemental people will always exist all we have to do is just ignore their comments." You tried to cheer up your two lovers.
Shoto, hearing your optimism smiled softly. He couldn't help but feel happy when you were feeling happy. Although it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bakugou. The man's scowl only deepened.
"If we ignore them they'd only get fucking worse idiot!" He exclaimed.
You were quickly silenced when he yelled at you. Your rational side knew he was just tired and that was his impulsive reaction. But it still didn't feel good. You were only trying to help.
"I was trying to help, sorry." You muttered under your breath.
Shoto realizing the situation was slowly getting out of hand immediately jumped in.
"Why don't we just watch a movie and calm down?"
Bakugou wanted to say something but once more, his ego got in the way. So, he declined, turned around, and went outside.
Shoto saw how sad you looked and once again sighed.
"He's just trying to calm himself down, don't worry about him." He mused before making his way over towards you on the couch.
You scooted slightly towards the middle of the couch to give him some room. The couch dipped under his weight as he made himself comfortable. Shoto's arm made its way around your shoulder pulling you close to him.
He knew how much you cared for the man and how much you worried about him.
"I know," you stated, "How are you though? Are you okay?"
After a few years of dating the two, you could read them both like an open book. Whilst Bakugou emotionally usually acted on impulse and aggressively. Shoto on the other hand has a tendency to cover up those feelings, choosing instead to focus on the emotions of his loved ones over his.
Hearing your question he smiled. Leaning down to kiss the crown of your head softly.
"I'm fine love. Being here with you already calms me, it'd be better if Bakugou was here but I'm pretty sure he needs time to collect himself alone."
You hummed in agreement before putting a random film on the tv to act as a distraction. It was clear you both were worried about him, but you both also trusted Bakugou enough to know that he will be fine once he's calmer.
Once Bakugou finally cooled off, he walked back inside the house. A small feeling of guilt starting to eat himself from the inside. He didn't know why he blew up on you like that. You didn't deserve it, you were only trying to help.
He noted mentally to make it up to you and Shoto by perhaps cooking dinner, or to help you study later on. He almost snickered to himself remembering the last time he helped you studied. What was once a study session only became you explaining geology to him. He barely understood what you were saying, all he knew was you seemed so happy to talk about it.
Remembering your happy attitude made his heart clench, even more, realizing how sad you looked when he yelled at you.
That guilt only grew when he saw you and Shoto on the couch cuddling one another, asleep. He felt bad for exploding to you two.
He leaned down towards both of you and placed a small kiss on both your foreheads. An act of affection he rarely, if ever, did. He was always shy about affection. Choosing to show his love by acts of service.
Both of you stirred awake after his kiss. Looking up at him with worry in your eyes.
"Sorry," he muttered.
Shoto simply closed his eyes back and cuddled closer towards you. Whilst you groaned and outstretched one of your arms towards him, urging him to join the cuddle session.
He chuckled and accepted the invitation. Sitting down right beside you and curling up against your side. His other hand intertwining with Shoto's above your torso. Bakugou felt calm.
A calmness he doesn't usually feel.
A calmness he feels only when he's with the two people he loves most. Subconsciously he buried his head deeper on the crook of your neck and his hand squeezed Shoto's tighter. An action that doesn't go unnoticed by you nor Shoto, who smiled at the tsundere's actions.
Tumblr media
Hi there! Can you tell I've never written a poly relationship before? Ahahahahahah. I'm sorry if it seemed like I focused too much on one side of the relationship, I really tried. Ps I had to re write this like twice since the first time I was rushing and DIDN'T SAVE IT BEFORE SHUTTING DOWN MY LAPTOP, the second time I wrote it in the car on my phone and when I saved the draft IT DIDN'T FUCKING SAVE. So I just wrote it in my notes then copy pasted everything on my laptop lmao. ANYWAYS, THIS A/N IS GETTING A LITTLE BIT TOO LONG. THANK YOU FOR READING AS ALWAYS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR JOINING MY EVENT!!!! (I hope you enjoy it and istfg Mammon on ur pfp is <3)
115 notes · View notes
elia-de-silentio · 3 years
Text
The overarching themes of Vanitas no Carte: Identity
The Case Study of Vanitas is a very good, too little known manga (I hope the anime changes something), with some central themes than are exposed in different ways through different characters. In this meta, I want to explore one that was brought to my attention pretty recently: here a little examination on the various ways to face one's own identity in The Case Study of Vanitas.
The Stable Identity( Noè)
Tumblr media
Let's start off with the positives, shall we? Noè has probably the most secure personal identity of all the bunch.
And this is pretty amazing, considering everything he went through. He has no memory of his birth family, but gets adopted by some nice people - who die shortly afterwards. Right at their graves, he is kidnapped by slaves, in an accident that left him injured. Then he is bought by someone who actually treats him nicely and is a good mentor for him, he finds many friends his age - and then one of them, the one he was closest to, turns out to be a cursebearer, kills all of the others and then tries to kill him; he is saved by the mentor, who beheads the friend right in front of him. The most immediate emotion is relief for being alive, and he will always feel terrible for that. Then, he has to witness his surviving friend try to cope very badly with her mourning by repressing her identity and try to substitute it with that of her dead twin. That's a lot.
And Noé reacted to all of this by becoming a confident person, kind and attentive to others, but not to the point of being a pushover. I'm not saying he walked away unscathed from the events of his childhood: he regrets the way he handled things with Louis, the way he didn't understand him, and has developed quite the savior complex as a result.
What I'm saying is that he is probably one of the very few well-adjusted people in the psychiatric ward that is Vanitas no Carte. He is still questioning himself, but in a normal way for a nineteen-years-old that has just left a sheltered environment for the big wide world. He is aware of some of his strenghts (his naivete) and is realizing others (putting unfair expectations on other people, underestimating other people due to racial biases); but most importantly, when he realizes these mistakes, he doesn't run away from them or obsess over them believing they make him a horrible person: he recognizes them, apologizes to the wronged person if necessary, and works on improving them.
This isn't to say he's completely happy-go-lucky with no regrets; he feels guilty about being relieved that he lived while Louis died, and he has a lot of uncertainties regarding his identity as an Archiviste and the impact his powers can have on other people. But he managed not to tie his entire identity to that guilt; and as for the second point, Teacher helped him rationalise that and figure out a conduit that didn't undermine him and at the same time showed respect for others. Noè went through several traumas, but received one thing most of the cast didn't: guidance and support from his environment. Whatever Teacher's actual motives are, he shaped a well-balanced person.
The Group Identity (The dhamps, appearently 99% of vampirekind)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Us dhams are only loyal to each other!" This is what Dante says in one of the first chapters, giving us the first clues to their status as outcasts.
The war between humans and vampires ended up with each deciding to keep to themselves, but dhampires are the living exception to that silent agreement. So, both societies decide to reject them, and they can't find a place in the world unless they stick to others of their own kind. This common history of traumatic experiences of abandonment and subsequent resentment of both human and vampire society for it goes on to create a very strong group identity: the only ones they give a damn about are those like them, everyone else is a potential enemy and is only good to be exploited.
Then, we have the vampire culture. I mean ... it might be because insofar we have met almost exclusively aristocrats obsessed with their respectability ... but they have a lot of prejudices.
You're born under a uncommon moon? You're a pariah. You're mixed race? You're a pariah. Your parents committed a crime? You're a pariah, and are used as a tool. You're born as part of a set of twins? Either you or your sibling are killed at birth, because of something that is SAID, not even a certified element of vampire biology. You're stuck with a curse? You're executed, no attempts to heal you.
Their society seems to run on an ideal model of person which depends on factors outside the individual's control, and whoever doesn't fit this description and deviates from the group in any shape or form gets ridiculously fierce punishment. They make the freaking Church look good by comparison, at least their repressive and racist side is composed of extremists instead of everymen.
The Clan Identity (Chloé, and partially Noé again)
Tumblr media
Chloé identifies with a group of people too; but it's not a race, it's a family. The D'Apchier family, the nobles who are responsible for Gevaudan. Her father made sure she had this idea in her right from the start, and she interiorized it.
And this had mixed results: while on the one hand she was chained to self-loathing by the guilt of having accidentally caused the massacre of the family and was only saved by Jeanne and Jean-Jacques reclaiming her as part of theirs, on the other she was able to resist to Naenia because of the love and responsibility she felt towards the people of Gevaudan. Chloé is, at this point, the only curse-bearer who managed to trick and attempted to fight directly against Charlatan.
Then there is Noé in relation to his Archiviste identity. He seems to think of it mainly in negative terms, very conscious of the living invasion of privacy it turns him into ... and nothing else. We have never seen him wonder about who his birth parents were, ask himself why he doesn't remember anything, why was the clan exterminated, or how he feels about being a survivor, one of the only ones if not outright the only. He sees his heritage as a burden,and hasn't thought of it in any different term. I wonder how a change in perspective could impact the above 'stable identity'.
The Someone Else's Identity (Vanitas, Dominique)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I already dedicated a whole post to this trait they share, so I'll be short: both Vanitas and Dominique hate themselves and try to become something worthy by taking elements of people they admire: Louis for Dominique, a combination of his birth father and Luna for Vanitas.
The Object Identity (Jeanne)
Tumblr media
The very first thing Jeanne was said in her whole life was that she was an object. A vessel for something (or someone?) else, who mustn't have feelings or desires of her own. Encouraging, isn't it?
Luckily, this wasn't all she got in life. Soon afterwards, she was adopted by Eric and Louise, who loved her a lot, received kindness by Ruthven, met Chloé who became an older sister to her. Unluckily, all of this was taken away from her in the most cruel way possible.
She couldn't make any sense of her parents's betrayal and death, and the way her life suddenly changed; she rationalised it by telling herself that it was her fault, if she had been just the good object everyone told her to be nothing would have happened. So she accepts the Object Identity: she is a tool, so she doesn't feel, she exists only to obey orders, and as long as she is nobody else will ever suffer. It gets even worse after she fails to kill Chloè: she couldn't fulfill her duties, and both her and her big sis suffered for it. This mindset traps her in a world of pain, but also prevents her from facing the fact that she is subject to a senseless injustice, one she has no control over.
Vanitas managed to help her with that. He validated her feelings, and showed her that nobody had to die if she had them, solving the situation with Chloé and Jean-Jacques. This gave her a nice confidence boost, returning her to the cheerful attitude she had as a young girl; the consequences of this change remain to be seen.
The Unknown Identity (Luna)
Tumblr media
This one is interesting because Luna themselves is pretty explicit about it. They see themselves as something 'other', who is outside commonly used categorization; starting with 'male or female' (and here I am left wondering if they had specific sexual characteristics but didn't feel like they 'fit', or were intersex and nonbinary, or had an entirely different biology from both vampires and humans).
Luna doesn't like this condition: they said they tried to figure out what they were, to understand themselves, and they regret doing so now. Why? Maybe they didn't find any answer and were left perpetually unsatisfied, or they found an answer, and they found it to be awful?
Still, this indicates Luna has never been particularly happy with themselves, and this found no resolution. And then they died. Nice, uh?
Well, I think this was all. There are other characters I would like to know more about in regard to this, like Ruthven, Marquis Machina, and Mikhail, but there is still time.
All in all, I'd say Vanitas no Carte explores the theme of identity pretty throughly; many character arcs are still in progress, and I'm interested about how things will develope especially for Vanitas, Dominique and Jeanne.
Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!
261 notes · View notes
libidinous-weeb · 3 years
Text
Just Because (Bakugou x Reader)
Tags: 18+, dub-con/non-con (but it’s got a lighthearted(ISH) ending), overstim, degradation, mind break (kind of??? i guess?? not really), unspecified gender but reader has a puthy
Summary: Reader is a villain and annoyed that Dynamight won’t get off their ass when they do crime. So they capture him and decide to fuck about it. This started as me just wanting to lewd Bakugou in a discord server, but as per usual, i got carried away.
enjoy. or don’t. your choice ig lol. also not beta’d so sorry the capitalization is stupid.
when you perch your self on top of Dynamight’s lap, he’s confused at first. when you slide so close you’re sitting on his crotch, he starts to get the picture. he wants to ask you what the fuck you’re doing but he’s suddenly tongue tied. he’s confused about what you’re doing as he tries to wriggle away, but you don’t let him up. you have him on a bed somewhere, with his legs bound and his wrists trapped in quirk canceling handcuffs.
you start to grind on his cock, moaning quietly in his ear. he vaguely knows you, and you’re making him so hard, harder than he swears he’s ever been in his life. he vaguely knows you, and you’re making him so hard, harder than he swears he’s ever been in his life. he’s so embarrassed you have this effect on him. he’s Dynamight! a big time hero! he should have control over this situation, and someone like you with your soft lips and even softer thighs and perfect little ass that rubs up against him in the best way possible...you shouldn’t be the one that’s able to make him lose his iron like grip on his self control.
when you shove your tongue down his throat, it shouldn’t feel this good. he shouldn’t be moaning like a goddamn girl. he shouldn’t feel so good that part of his mind goes blank when you touch and kiss him. he shouldn’t get so flustered and his face shouldn’t be turning cherry red just because of some fucking extra. he shivers, and tries to fight the urge to tilt his head back as your hands move from his chest down lower and lower...
when you finally touch him through his pants, he bites his lip, hard. it’s just your hand, but it feels amazing. you aren’t even directly touching him, and he feels like some kind of pathetic teenager. he starts hoping you don’t notice how his hips are slowly rolling towards your touch.
“H-Hey! Stop—I said stop it!” he cries out, as your mouth moves from his lips to his neck where you kiss and suck and bite.
“I’m gonna have so much fun breaking you like this,” you whisper in his ear. “You’re not—you can’t...be thinking you’re gonna—“ you cut him off. “I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. And you’re gonna beg me to let you cum. I’ve wanted you inside me for so long, and I’m finally gonna make it happen. You’re not gonna stop me—you can’t. I’m gonna make you cum over and over again, no matter how much you beg me to stop.” his eyes widen a bit in surprise. “Y-You what? Why? Fucking cut it out! Let me go, you fucking freak!” he feels trapped, panicked. still, he’s not scared of you. he’s scared of the effect you have on him.
he’s kissed before. had sex, even (not often, but he’d die before he ever admitted that out loud), so why does it feel like he’s on fire right now? why does his body want this so badly when he doesnt? you pull his shirt over his head and bunch it up by his hands, which are restrained with the cuffs. then you slide your hand down his pants as your mouth moves to his nipples.
“Fuck, n-not there...” his nipples were sensitive and you sucking and teasing and biting at them makes him feel like he’s going to lose his goddamn mind. you aren’t even jerking him off, just groping his dick while you toy with his chest. he’s trying (and failing) to steady his voice while he yells at you. “S-Stop fucking...touching me already!” his voice is loud but it trembles when it escapes him. the way he lies beneath you, eyes clenched shut, his face hot and red, panting and trying to turn his face away from you as if the sight of you is too much for him...it’s too fucking hot. the way quiet moans slip out between words and the way he’s biting his lip to keep himself quiet...it’s all too irresistible. you need to have him, now. you slide his pants down and position yourself over his dick. “Don’t fucking—“ you cut him off with a harsh slap to the face, then grab him by his chin. “Shut. Up.” you momentarily stun him into silence as his eyes meet yours.
you hold his cock steady as you slide down on him and his eyes roll to the back of his head as a loud, desperate moan leaves him. “F-Fuck, wait! I can’t—!“ he cums. Dynamight, the pro hero, cums the second he bottoms out for the first time like a goddamn virgin. he gasps as his orgasm rushes out of him, surprising you both. he gets even redder still, something you didn’t think was possible. he keeps his eyes shut, brows furrowed as he tries to catch his breath. you laugh. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Big bad Bakugou’s so pathetic that my pussy makes him cum in under 30 seconds? Not so scary now, are you? Where’d all that attitude go? Come on, let’s see it!”
he still doesn’t open his eyes. he’s made of tougher stuff than this. he shouldn’t be brought to his knees by some extra’s fucking pussy. even with the way you slammed down on him out of nowhere. you’re just so tight and hot and soft and feel so fucking perfect...
his eyes shoot open in desperation when you start moving. “W-Wait! I can’t! I-I really can’t! Do-Don’t fucking—nnhg...fuckfuckfuck, stop fucking moving!” you wrap your hand around his throat and apply pressure. he’s grimacing now, all angry and squirmy, trying to free himself from you. you look him directly in the eyes as you choke him.“I told you. You’re not gonna stop me. I decide when it’s over. I’ve just gotten started. I’m gonna make you cum over and over and over again. And you’re gonna lie there and let me. You don’t have a choice. Got it?” you start gyrating your hips, fucking him in earnest. you keep your hand on his throat, letting him breathe but reminding him who’s in control.
he clenches his hands into fists, legs and body shaking as you take what you want from him. he bites his lips so hard to keep himself quiet that he draws blood. you kiss him and clean it up with your tongue as you run it over his lips. his cock feels like it was made for you, long and curved and thick. he still won’t look at you as you keep fucking him, getting close to your first orgasm. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” instinctively, katsuki opens his eyes and looks at you. you sitting atop him, back arched, breasts pushed forwards, thighs shaking, head thrown back with bliss written across your face...
“AAAAH FUCK!” katsuki cums again. it hurts but it feels so good. despite the fact that he hates this, he can’t deny how fucking hot you look, perched on top of him, cumming all over his cock. “You-You got what you wanted...right? so get-get the fuck off of-mmmh-off of me.”
you open your eyes. katsuki sees how hazy they look as you regain the ability to form words again. “N-No. Not done yet. Wanna come more.” Your airy, lighthearted chuckle confirms what katsuki had suspected. you’re fucked out but still drunk with lust. your first orgasm made you only want more. you started moving your hips again.
“F-Fucking shit...fuck...”at some point, bakugou couldn’t think anymore. he didn’t know up from down. the only thing that mattered was you, your fucking pussy, and how much your torture hurt in the best way possible. he stopped begging you to stop and started babbling about how good it felt, and how perfect you are. “God, FUCK you feel so fucking good, fuck, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop. Please. Just keep fucking me, pleasegodpleasepleasepleaseyesyesyes—FUCK! Fuck, it feels so good. Love it, I fucking love it, FUCK! I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t fucking stop, please! FUCK, I can’t stop cumming, I can’t! I fucking love you, fucking love your pussy, fucking love, FUCKING YOU!”
when your hips gave out and you slumped over his chest, bakugou slid his cuffed hands behind you and flipped you both over. “Don’t fucking stop, pleasepleaseplease—“ you were in the same state as he was. you positioned his cock to your hole as he forced it inside you. your legs shook as he started thrusting in you, short sharp movements like a fucking dog. he was so desperate he was humping you like a fucking dog, and you loved it. “please bakugou, dynamight, katsuki, please fuck me more. i want it so bad, please! fuck, it still feels so fucking good, you and your perfect fucking cock, fucking me up over and over and over again—“
when you finally decided to stop you had both made yourself cum so many times you lost count. bakugou’s cock hurt. he’d cum so much he’d started having dry orgasms. and you were a mess. your pussy was sore. you’d squirted and dripped all over his cock so much there was a puddle underneath you both. you tried to stand but your legs kept shaking. the cuffs around bakugou’s wrists made a beeping sound and then opened, but neither of you registered it.
by the time both of you had regained some sense, you had sat up, and reached into a bedside table near the mattress in the abandoned warehouse you had him in. you shakily handed him a bottle of water as you grabbed one for yourself and did the same with some vending machine peanut butter crackers or some shit. You didn’t look that closely when you bought them. “Here. This is all I got right now. Take it.” without thinking, bakugou reached out to take them, then froze as he looked at his unrestrained hand dumbly. “How...?” “S’ on a timer. Wasn’t gonna kidnap you forever.” he blinked, then took your offering. you both sat in silence as you ate. you pulled out a large sharp knife from the same drawer and katsuki immediately tensed, worried you were going to attack him. “Hey. Here.” you handed him the knife. he stared at it, then you, then stared back at the knife. “It’s to free your legs, stupid.” he stared at you. “What? I’m a villain, but I’m not a monster, Katsuki. Not my fault you’re so fuckin irresistible.”
“You...You’re not gonna kill me?” “Nah. Just wanted to fuck ya. And it was totally worth it. you can arrest me now or whatever. Oh, and there’s some clothes for you in this drawer too, and some baby wipes. No shower though.” you sniff your armpit. “Eugh. Didn’t think to bring deodorant.” katsuki looks to you, and blinks at you owlishly. he finally speaks. “W-What the fuck was that? Why—How—“
“Reasons.” you say, and leave it at that.
174 notes · View notes
hobipaint · 3 years
Text
Graffiti and Chalk- two
Tumblr media
summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?
↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader
↳ genres: angst, fluff
↳ word count: 9.6K
↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.
one | two
Tumblr media
a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)
Tumblr media
Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 
Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 
You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 
"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 
You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 
"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 
Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."
He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 
"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."
Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"
You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 
"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 
"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"
"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."
You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 
Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 
"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 
"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 
You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 
He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 
"It was me." 
Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 
"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 
"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 
"Just said that." 
He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 
"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 
Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"
"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."
"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 
"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"
"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"
"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 
Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 
You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 
"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 
You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 
You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.
Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 
You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 
"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."
You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 
"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 
"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 
He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."
"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."
Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."
"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 
"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."
"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 
You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 
An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 
"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 
Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."
"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 
"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 
You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 
You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 
"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 
You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 
Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 
"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 
"How much time?"
"Maybe a month or two?" 
"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 
How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.
"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 
Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 
"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 
"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 
"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 
Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 
"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 
"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 
"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 
Tumblr media
Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 
The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 
You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 
Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 
Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.
You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 
"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 
You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 
Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 
"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 
"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 
"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 
"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  
"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 
Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 
You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."
"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 
You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 
Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 
And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 
You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."
Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 
You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 
The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 
The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 
The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 
You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 
When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.
During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 
When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 
You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 
"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 
Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 
"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 
You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 
"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 
Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 
You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 
"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 
"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 
"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 
You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 
Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."
You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 
"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."
"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.
"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"
His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 
He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 
He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 
You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 
"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 
You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 
Tumblr media
"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 
You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 
Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 
You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 
All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 
People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 
"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 
"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 
You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 
"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 
"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 
"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 
He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 
You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.
Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 
Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"
Tumblr media
"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 
"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 
"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"
"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 
You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 
"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 
You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 
"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 
"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 
"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 
Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 
The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 
You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 
The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 
You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 
The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 
The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.
You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 
Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 
"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 
Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 
The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 
"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 
"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 
She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 
The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"
Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 
"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"
Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 
You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 
"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 
Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."
"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."
The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 
Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 
The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 
You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 
Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.
"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 
"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 
She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 
You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 
Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 
The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 
"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."
"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 
The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 
The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 
Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 
The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 
"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 
Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 
"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 
You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 
Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 
Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 
"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 
"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 
"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 
"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."
"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 
The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."
Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 
She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 
She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 
"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 
He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 
His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.
Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 
"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 
"For what?"
"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 
You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 
He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 
"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 
You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 
"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 
You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 
"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 
Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."
"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 
You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 
He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 
You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 
"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 
"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 
You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 
Tumblr media
a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞
taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki
masterlist
83 notes · View notes
miraculouswolf99 · 3 years
Text
Forest Wolf Academy Idea
I formed this idea after I read a Miraculous fanfiction where Marinette transferred to a school for magic along with Chloe, Nathaniel, Marc, and her brother. At the school already is Felix and the Quad kids. The magic schools are actually for those that are members of witch covens and you must be a member of the coven to join the school. Luke and Juleka are also witches but in a different cousin. Marinette and the other transfer because of Lila. Adrien soon joins them at the school as well. I also got inspiration from the anime Fairy Tail.
I loved the concept of it so much that it gave me my own idea. My idea if an Adrien-focused story since he is my favorite character and always will be.
My idea started after Miracle Queen. Because of Chloe working with Hawkmoth and because Lila had turned so many of Marinette's friends against her, her parents transferred her to an art school so that she can focus on her designing. The only ones that stayed her friends were Adrien, Nathaniel, Kim, Alix, and Juleka. Outside of the class, she had a lot more friends, but her parents wanted her away from Chloe and Lila.
Adrien's dad still makes him model with Lila despite how Adrien and the staff are always telling him that she is the worst model ever. She never shuts up with her lies, never poses as she is told to do, and is basically also sexually harassing Adrien as well. She drives them all crazy.
But then one day during another photoshoot, Adrien hears some music and is drawn toward it. The music is like a siren song that he does not notice that only he can hear. When he arrives at the source of the song, he finds an old friend of his, Lyon Garden. Lyon and his twin sister Vallia are friends of his that he met in Greece when their family hosted a charity fashion show at their family's nature and animal sanctuary. Adrien had gone there with his parents a year before his mom vanished and he kept in contact with them the entire time.
Lyon and Adrien are happy to see each other, Adrien spilling his guts about everything bad going on. Especially all the things with Lila and Chloe. And Lyon gives him an extraordinary opportunity. The reason why Adrien was able to hear his magical song was because he was magical as well. A fellow witch. So, he was able to offer him a place at his school, Forest Wolf Academy.
The two of them went to Gabriel and he actually let Adrien go to the magic school. It turns out that Adrien's mom had also been a witch and that was why he was allowing Adrien to go so easily. Adrien is more than happy to accept the offer.
When Adrien goes to Forest Wolf Academy, he is amazed to see such an incredible school. Forest Wolf is not the only magic school in the world. Each school is hidden in a pocket dimension where they can be entered in any place in the world through the use of a magical key. But each school still has a main magical doorway in the home of the founder of each school. Forest Wolf's main door is in Athens, Greece.
Adrien only lets his real friends know that he is transferring. He would have told Nino, but he no longer considered him his best friend since he turned against Marinette. But given that magical people can hear Lyon's magical song, there are more teen witches in Paris than Adrien knew about. So, even after he transfers, he is actually soon joined by a lot of his true friends. Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel, Marc, Juleka, Kim, and Alix. And each of them would have their own powers that Lyon and Vallia help them learn to control.
Lyon has siren song magic. He is a real-life siren with the added abilities to control sound and music, not just being able to use his voice as a weapon. Vallia has rainbow aura magic. She is also to surround herself with different color light auras that give her other abilities like how sky blue gives her flight and ruby red helps her shoot fire like a dragon.
Adrien would find out that he has light magic, being able to control all forms of light and even be able to change into it like a human shooting star. Luka would have enchanted instrument magic, being able to do all types of things by playing different instruments while still having his natural ability to hear a person's inner song. Juleka would have a similar ability called music spirit magic, where she is able to turn into magical creature spirits that are hybrids with music like harp playing fairies or werewolf drummers. Kagami would have Requip magic, where she is able to store weapons and armor in a separate dimension that only she can access. Nathaniel would have art-to-reality magic where he is able to bring his drawings to life no matter what they are. Marc would have Fairy Tale magic where he could read from a magical storybook that he has and summon any legendary or mythical creature from it. Kim would have were-beast magic where he is able to turn into any were-creature version of any animal like a werewolf or cat creature. And Alix would have time magic, where she would be able to manipulate time around her while also being able to travel through time on her own.
All of them actually have a great time at Forest Wolf Academy and learn to appreciate and covet their magical lives even if Hawkmoth is still a problem. But he would actually have become less active lately as if he is losing motivation for trying to gain the miraculous.
Vallia would actually gain a crush on Kim and the two of them would eventually start dating. The same would go for Juleka and Alix as well as Luka and Kagami. Nathaniel and Marc would be an already established couple since they are too adorable to break up. Adrien would also find himself gaining a crush on Lyon, something he never expected to have on his old friend.
But, as per all good things, their peace had to come to an end. Magic itself was not hidden, just the people that used it. It was why heroes and villains like Ladybug, Cat Noir, and Hawkmoth all had masks when they used the miraculous.
But, the schools have come under some fire with people thinking that they were secret evil cults that wanted to take over the world. So, they all had to open their doors to people. To politicians, school field trips, and even some tours of powerful world leaders just to show that they were all perfectly normal schools that just happen to teach magic to their witch students.
Only, one of the schools that request to tour Forest Wolf Academy is Dupont High, which puts the new students on edge. Especially Adrien and Juleka because of Lila and Rose. It did not help that Lyon and Alix were very protective of their partners and would hurt anyone that tries to hurt them.
But since they have to keep up appearances as a "normal" magical school, they have to accept the field trip request. Luckily, it is the whole school and not just Bustier's class. So, there are still good students like Aurore, Mireille, and Zoé. It is only Bustier's class that believes Lila, anyway.
Adrien and the others do their best to avoid Lila and her attack dogs. They have their jobs to stop the more temperamental students from attacking the annoying group with how they obviously bully almost everyone around them. Not to mention all of the lies that keep coming out of Lila's mouth that she is related to so many powerful witches, how she is a descendant of Merlin, how her grandparents run the best magic school in the world.
There are a lot of students that wanted her head. Especially since it was known through Adrien and Lyon that she had not heard Lyon's magical song, meaning that she had no magic at all. And since magic was passed down from parent to child, that also meant that no one in her family had magic either. Not unless they were one of those families that had been stripped of their magic for crimes against the magical world.
And if it wasn't Lila causing problems with her lies, Chloe was causing problems with her attitude. And how she kept trying to force the students to do as she says and make them her slaves. Like she would go to those with ice magic and demand that they get her a cold drink. Or she would go to the students with gem and crystal magic and demand that they give her the biggest diamond that they can make.
Once the former Dupont students are found by the group is when things really go downhill. There is a lot of yelling about how they abandoned their friends, that they should not be so jealous of Lila's accomplishments, how they needed to get over themselves, how they needed to stop being bullies. And the group fires back that they can not abandon friends that abandoned them first, that they can not be jealous of accomplishments that never happened, and that they never talk to Lila let alone bully her.
Meanwhile, Adrien is trying hard not to be seen by Lila or Chloe since he does not want either of them hanging off his arm like they usually do. But, Lila soon locks her eyes on him and down try and latch onto him, crying her crocodile tears about how much she missed him and how she wanted him back since he "promised to date her."
That is where Lyon steps in and would be so close to using his sonic scream on the annoying liar. Adrien uses his powers to turn into light and get back to Lyon's side. That is when the two of them go into a big "why Lila sucks" speech and reveals that the two of them were dating and that Adrien would never EVER date Lila.
She is not exposed, but a new demonstration of the more dangerous powers from the students, low key threats against the annoying class, makes them never come back after they leave.
Lila hopes to be akumatized over her rage about not being able to lie her way into dating Adrien, but she does not know that Gabriel gave Marinette the butterfly miraculous and the peacock miraculous already. He gave up once he saw how truly happy his son was and did not want the wish to change his son into any other version of him that would never be this happy. It also helps that a few witches from the school that could heal offered to help him restore his wife.
67 notes · View notes
gubler-me-up · 4 years
Text
Broken Telephone
Tumblr media
Request: Spencer Request. You're new to the team, having transferred from the NYPD and are also studying for a Doctorate at the same time. Spencer falls in love with you straight away, but saddens when he hears you talking to JJ about a guy you do a load of fun activities with a guy and a little girl. He assumes you're taken and it breaks his heart. Eventually, he finds out you were talking about your cousin and his daughter & asks you out on a date, and you say yes.
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This was a really cute, fun request to write! Starting it was tough though because I didn’t know the exact tone I wanted for it. I hope it’s okay though! When I was reading through the beginning part before I edited it I was like “I have a whole degree in English and I can’t even write properly i hate it here” LOL the first paragraph was a MESS but I fixed it. I think the rest is fine! Enjoy, love!!
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content warning: None
Word count: 1.7k
-------------
Upgrading from NYPD to the BAU was probably your greatest career move to date. You hated how NYPD operated and dealt with crimes. It made you so frustrated. If you weren’t born and raised in New York you wouldn’t even be a part of NYPD. You felt as if New York would always be your home, but sometimes you had to branch out to find what’s best for you.
Moving to Washington, D.C. was a completely new start for you and you felt as if it were only right you changed a few things about yourself. First, you cut your hair shorter. Very cliche of a restart arc, but you thought you’d feel free with less weight weighing your head down. You also bought an actual house. After years of living in a small, cramped apartment you thought it was right to invest in something bigger and more welcoming.
The biggest thing you were proud of during the transition to the BAU was finishing your Ph.D. in Linguistics. You had wanted to complete it years ago, but found it difficult to focus on it while at NYPD. With the bureau they allowed you to work on your Ph.D. as long as you worked your agreed-upon hours every week. It felt amazing to finally have a support net to motivate you towards your dreams.
You weren’t the only one excited about your Ph.D. though. Your coworker, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t wait to see you during your time in to discuss your Ph.D. with you. As soon as you walked to your desk, he’d be the first one to greet you with a huge, lovable smile, rosy red cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. You had never seen someone so animated over linguistics before. If you two weren’t talking about linguistics or random facts he would spurt out, the conversation was about you.
On one particular day though, the good doctor was running late to work. You were kind of disappointed you weren’t greeted with a daily dose of facts early in the morning. The second best thing happened when JJ walked towards your desk with two Starbucks coffees.
“Ugh, if I knew you a few years earlier, I would have married you before Will could ever dream to,” you said.
She laughed. “I don’t think Spence would allow that to happen without a fight. He’s been quite the busy bee around you.”
She handed you your drink as you pondered on what she said. Just maybe he had a slight crush on you. The way he expressed his interest was adorable for sure. You preferred his way of flirting over the typical sexualized pick-up lines many men in your life have used.
“Are you saying super-genius Dr. Spencer Reid has a crush on me? I won’t believe it until he runs some tests about your theory,” you said as you took a sip of your coffee.
“Maybe he’ll ask you out one of these days between statistics,” she said.
You smiled. “That would be nice. I just hope he doesn’t do it this weekend. Remember I told you how Adrian was visiting this weekend? He’s bringing the little one with him.”
“Oh, really? What’s their name?”
“Her name’s Rhea. She’s the cutest little thing ever.”
You pulled out your phone to look for a picture of them. You found a picture of the three of you from a few months ago before you left for D.C. You turned your phone to JJ and she instantly melted.
“Oh my gosh, she’s adorable,” she said.
You proudly smiled. “Right. She’s the cutest four-year-old I know. I think I was the happiest one in the room when I met her for the first time. Adrian was a puddle of tears and nerves from the reality of taking care of this little girl forever. He treats her like an absolute princess.”
“You both are lucky to have her in your lives. She looks like a ray of sunshine.”
“She is. We do so many fun things together. The last time we hung out we went to this trampoline park. This weekend we’re going to the food festival.”
“That does sound like a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll bring Will and the kids there.”
You were going to respond to JJ until you noticed Reid sitting at his desk which was diagonally across from yours. You hadn’t even noticed him come in at all let alone sit down to start his workday. He had already buried his nose deep into case files. JJ looked at Reid with as much confusion as you did. He was never quiet unless something was troubling him.
“No fact today for me, doctor?” You joked.
He looked up at you. He had no sparkle in his eye or a blush painted on his face. He looked disappointed. You were confused as to what made your chatty doctor become so mute.
“I just wanted to start these case files,” he said.
“You sure there isn’t anything wrong, Spence?” JJ asked.
“No, I’m fine. I just gotta finish these before Hotch comes in,” he said.
He then buried his face back into the file without uttering another word. You and JJ looked at each other. You were concerned there was something wrong, but JJ’s look said to leave it alone for now. You sighed and took another long sip of your coffee. You stared at him out of the corner of your eye. You hoped whatever he was going through he’d tell you eventually.
————
You packed your things up to leave 20 minutes ago, but stuck around your desk until you saw Reid also getting ready to leave. You wanted to inquire about his miserable attitude towards you. You noticed throughout the day he was normal with everyone else except you. When you tried to spark conversation, he would give you quick, to the point answers before he made a B-line back to his desk. He gave you no choice but to crack him.
As soon as you saw him put his books and files into his satchel. He swung the strap around his shoulder and made his way to the door. He didn’t even look at you the whole time he got ready to leave. This was getting ridiculous to you. You picked up your purse and ran towards him before he caught the elevator.
“Spencer,” you called out.
He turned to look at you. “What’s up?”
You looked at him confused. “What’s up with me? What’s up with you?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you haven’t talked to me or even looked at me longer than a second today.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“You weren’t too busy to tell Morgan how many microscopic mites were living on his face today.”
“I thought it was valuable information he needed to know.”
“And you didn’t think it would be valuable to tell me?”
“In the moment, no.”
He went to go press the button for the elevator but you stopped his hand. You grabbed his hand tightly to make sure he didn’t escape your grip. He looked at you as if he was uncomfortable with you touching him. You knew awhile ago he had thing about not liking to shake hands, but you had stepped over that barrier with him a long time ago.
“I don’t think you should be doing this,” he quietly said.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why not?”
“I feel as if I’ve been intruding,” he said.
“Intruding on what?”
“Your family life.”
You let go of his hand as you stood there in shock. You didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. If he wanted to ask you out all he had to do was ask and you’d sort out your schedule. Adrian and Rhea would understand if you took a few hours to go on your first date in over two years.
“You think you’re intruding on my family life? How so?” You asked.
“If you really want to know I wanted to take you to the food festival this weekend because I know how much you love unique foods, but then I heard you and JJ talking about your partner and daughter coming this-“
“Hold up, wait,” you said before bursting into an uncontrollable laugh.
He looked at you funny. You watched as he stared in confusion as you laughed at his interpretation of your conversation with JJ. To be fair you had never mentioned Adrian and Rhea to him before, but you didn’t know he’d be eavesdropping in your conversation with JJ.
“You think Adrian’s my partner and Rhea’s my kid? Well, I’m proud to say that for once in Dr. Spencer Reid’s life he is completely, utterly wrong.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Adrian’s my cousin and Rhea’s his daughter. They’re coming to visit me from New York for the weekend. Adrian’s basically like a big brother to me.”
His face went from confused to embarrassed in a fraction of a second. His face turned to that noticeable red and an awkward smile spread across his face. You continued to laugh at his demeanour as you pressed the elevator button, so the two of you could actually get going.
“Oh. I’m so sorry for being weird to you, Y/N. I just felt terrible for thinking about asking you on a date while you were in a committed relationship,” he said.
“I get it, I do. I think you can make it up to me though,” you said.
The elevator dinged and the two of you stepped inside. He looked at you in amusement. You looked back at him with a big smile on your face and big, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh.
“Would you like to go on a date?” He asked.
You nodded your head. “I’d love to. We can even go to the food festival, so you can meet Adrian and Rhea in person.”
“That would be nice. I heard you telling JJ how lovely they are.”
“I bet they seem even lovelier now that you know they’re not my partner and child.”
“You can say that.”
—–
MASTERLIST
960 notes · View notes
thefirstknife · 3 years
Note
Hi! I saw the Mara discussion and I got curious. I don't understand very well what people mean when people say smth along the lines "she sacrificed a lot for good" (not the exact wording, sorry). When I read marasenna and the forsaken prince, she struck me as pretty manipulative and just looking to have an obedient following. Admittedly, it's been a long time since I read these books, so I might have forgotten a lot. I also got some kinda bias bc she reminded me of some, uh, not-so-nice folk who had a negative impact in my life, so I'm a bit squicked by her attitude, especially w/ how she treated Uldren and Ghost at some occasions.
Is it ok to ask for some clarifications about her motivations? Totally okay if not if it's too much work. Sorry if it's a weird ask fjjshf
Oh, Mara definitely has a manipulative streak about her.
Marasenna is in general a very biased source because it's coming from Mara herself so there's bound to be some narrator bias there. She presents some of her actions as being done for the greater good and we could debate whether that's true or not.
For example, when she created the Awoken people and the Distributary, a lot of negativity came when the Awoken realised they were created by one of their own and wondered why someone would create them in a way where they could still experience pain, suffering and death. Mara's reasoning is that without those things, there is nothing to advance towards. If you could live forever in perfect bliss, there's no goals to achieve and nothing to work for. They'd just be trapped in the Distributary living pointless "perfect" lives.
I agree with that because I, as a player, know that the Awoken weren't given the Distributary as some great and amazing gift: it was a punishment by the Darkness, just not done in the same way as the Collapse. The people on the Yang Liwei wanted no part in the Collapse and asked to be treated as a separate species and Darkness tossed them into a singularity. I personally don't think this was some sort of a great fate, especially if the plan was to live in the singularity forever and do nothing. So Mara not giving the Awoken a perfect paradise and immortality and life free from suffering IS, in a way, for the greater good. Obviously, this isn't an objective view of things.
Mara definitely manipulated people, lied to people and even abused them, sometimes obviously, sometimes subtly. She also clearly cares, in her own way, about certain people and things. How much, we can't really tell because we only have biased sources about her. I think Mara's biggest crime is when she knows things will end badly but she lets them happen anyway; for example everything with Uldren. His corruption and death could've been stopped if she actually reached out to him and told him she's fine in the Ascendant plane and that the visions he's getting is not her.
I totally understand when people are not happy with Mara's behaviour and if they're also squicked out by her. She's a very polarising and morally ambiguous character. I'm not surprised if people dislike her, nor is that in any way wrong.
The problem is mostly that Mara gets an extreme amount of explicit and gross hate directed at her, the type of hate that no other character in Destiny gets, despite there being characters objectively morally worse than her. Like, she genuinely received more hate than the Darkness, the primary antagonist or the Hive, as close to the primary antagonist as one can be.
This could be because her crimes are more grounded (manipulation and abuse) rather than whatever Darkness and the Hive are doing (nobody on Earth has really experienced their entire planet being killed, not exactly the easiest thing to relate to). But there's other characters with similar stories. Calus is a good example, as he's also a very manipulative character who continuously tried to make the Guardians join him by giving them stuff and praising them and being manipulative in general when his only real goal is selfish. He was also manipulative to the Cabal people, a lot of which followed him literally into death so HE could fulfil his goal of talking to the Darkness. He never cared about any of his people or the Guardians really.
I definitely wouldn't like Mara as a real person, but she's an interesting character to read about. Most ambiguous and villainous characters are to me.
56 notes · View notes
dreamywriting · 4 years
Text
Oh Boy
Tumblr media
Your high school crush, third year Tamaki Amajiki, is hit by a villain’s quirk on the job. He turns into a child and you are seemingly the only one he finds comfort in, so you take care of him. 
pairing: tamaki amajiki x reader
word count: 1800+ 
genre: fluff mostly, secret crushes
warnings: basically none, like one (1) compromising position
a/n: i imagine him to be around six, maybe seven years of age? like he can talk and understand things properly, but he still needs a comforting hand. 
-
You arrived at the scene the same time as the paramedics. Crowds had formed and the atmosphere was rather hectic. The fight was over, but the commotion sure wasn’t. You pushed your way to the front of the crowd and stood next to your classmate Kirishima, or Red Riot, out in the field. You both had managed to score work studies despite Aizawa’s concern, and Kirishima had called you to help with this particularly persistent opponent. Or so you thought. 
The villain may have been captured and arrested, but the job was far from over. Because in the midst of it all stood a small boy with indigo hair. His shoulders were tense and his entire body language emitted discomfort. Fatgum’s statue towered over the child as he tried to comfort the anxious one, but it only seemed to frighten him even more. You had always loved children, and seeing the boy in his absolutely petrified state made your heart churn. This was no place for a kid.
In your worry for the child you had failed to notice the absence of a certain hero. The one who made it possible for Kirishima to work with Fatgum in the first place, Tamaki Amajiki. He was a timid man, that one. But he intrigued you to no end. How could such an anxious mind control such a capable body? His quirk was amazing and his skills knew no end. You had admired him since day one, completely enthralled by his nervous antics and shy smiles. You may even have developed a small crush on him. Not that you’d ever act on it, though.
The paramedics were all over the scene, helping civilians and checking up on the heroes involved. It had gotten dark outside, enhancing the bustling city lights and sirens. It was rather chaotic, but under control nonetheless. “Whatever happened here seems to be under wraps now, so maybe I should head back?” you spoke up, seeing as nobody was injured and the police had taken over.
“Well… about that,” you classmate said, scratching the back of his head. “The villain had a really strange quirk. And it hit Tamaki-senpai.” You tensed, was he hurt? Kirishima started walking towards Fatgum and you followed closely behind, suddenly very worried.
“So, basically, senpai has been turned into a child. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain, but we have no idea what to do. He’s afraid of everything and everyone. And I think my manliness might be too intimidating for him.” You laughed at that last part. “I think it’s more about being in the middle of a chaotic crime scene, than your testosterone.” you retorted.
You felt kind of bad for Tamaki. If he was anxious before, you could hardly imagine how he must’ve been feeling right now. “See! This is why I called you. You know how to think like a child.” Kirishima said, now pushing you towards the jittery boy. “Is that your way of calling me childish?” you said, smiling a little. But before he could respond you were in front of the small child. Fatgum looked at you, relieved that you were here.
It was definitely Tamaki, alright. If his dark hair and pointed ears weren’t enough to tell, the way his lips trembled and how his now small hands fidgeted would give it away. You felt mixed emotions. Your heart was aching for the scared child in front of you, but your flusteredness stemmed from the fact that he was also your senior, and more importantly, your crush. It was hard to know how to act around him in this situation, but you followed your instincts and crouched down to his level.
“Hey, Tamaki,” you started softly, dropping the honorifics. He looked at you for the first time since you got here. Little Amajiki was absolutely adorable. “The police are doing a great job here, so how about we go somewhere else, huh? Do you like takoyaki?” He looked to the ground, nodding shyly. “Oh, I love takoyaki too! Let’s go to the restaurant down the block. I heard they give you a free dessert with every children's meal.” You said with a smile, reaching out your hand to him. He hesitantly looked at your open palm for a while, but eventually put his small hand in yours. Your other hand found the top of his head in a comforting way and he leaned into you fully, gripping onto you in a tight hug. Your heart melted at his ministrations whilst listening to Kirishima and Fatgum’s sighs of relief behind you.
You and Tamaki made your way to the small restaurant. At some point you picked him up in your arms, and from there you started talking and pointing out things around you as you went. He visibly relaxed in your presence and you beamed at how precious he was. You both ordered the children's meal and compared the toys you got. He seemed much happier now, giggling at your poor attempts to make him laugh. It warmed your heart, it really did. You could never have imagined spending time with your crush like this, but even so, you were enjoying it a lot. You learned a lot about him despite him being scarce with his words. Children were quite unfiltered, after all. At one point, he even let you know that he was planning on marrying you in the future, and the sincerity in his little voice nearly made you choke on your food. It was a good time.
After you had finished up, you headed back to UA in order to find a teacher who could help you. You weren’t quite sure how to proceed with Tamaki in his current state. It was only when you got to the main building that you realised it was Saturday. And very late in the evening. You felt so stupid. But you kept up your cheery attitude for Tamaki’s sake and went to the third year dorms instead. Maybe Mirio could take him in?
You knocked on the door several times without anyone answering. They were all asleep, weren’t they? Tamaki who was settled on your hip started to yawn and you realised your duty wasn’t over yet. Oh, he looked so precious when he was sleepy. You decided that it would be best for you to take him in over the night, until somebody else could help you with him. Over the course of the evening he had gotten quite attached to you, always staying close and being too shy to speak to anyone but you. It was quite endearing. But you started worrying about how long the villain’s quirk was going to last on him.
You took him to your dorm, as he would not leave your side. You hoped Kirishima would still be awake to give you some emotional support, but no such luck. You got Tamaki and yourself ready for bed and had prepared a spare mattress for him, but he just shuffled nervously around it until he timidly asked to sleep with you instead. “I-I don’t like the dark.”
A small smile came to your lips as you lifted your covers, signalling him to crawl under them with you. He wasted no time snuggling into your chest which made you gush over him once more. He was just so cute. You fell asleep like that, close and cuddled up together. It was a good idea, until you woke up the next morning.
The bed was incredibly warm. When you tiredly opened your eyes you were met with a dark head of hair. You were laying on your side and you suddenly understood the reason behind the immense heat. Tamaki Amajiki, now fully grown, was hugging your body in his sleep. His head was nuzzled in your chest and the realisation made you even warmer. You were completely still, except for the blush creeping on your cheeks. Your fucking crush was laying in your bed with his head between your breasts, probably having some real good dreams considering he was smiling in his sleep. The whole situation was surreal. But before you had time to contemplate your next move, you felt him stirring against you. His eyelashes fluttered against your sensitive chest as he opened his eyes. You desperately hoped he couldn’t feel your frantic heartbeat.
Once he realized where he was, he jolted awake, almost falling off the small bed. “I-I….” he looked at your messy hair and the little black slip you wore to bed, swallowing harshly, trying to grasp the situation. “Good morning, Tamaki-senpai.” you said, a bit unsure of what to do. There was a short silence before you asked him if he had remembered anything from last night. Your words made his face pale. They had sounded so suggestive. He could only dream of being with you in that way, because there was no way you felt that way about him… right?
Realising that he seemed to suffer from complete memory loss, you recounted last night's events to him. He listened quietly to the end and after you had finished he was in shock. You totally understood him though. It was a lot to take in. But what you didn’t know was that the main culprit behind his demeanor was you. You, with your little night slip on, seeing your cute face and listening to your morning voice, waking up against your boobs. It was practically too much for him to handle. Because unbeknownst to you, he had reciprocated your feelings for a long time. And like you, he hadn’t intended to act on them.
Well, until now.
“T-thank you, y/n. For everything.” he said quietly, internally cursing at himself for always stuttering.
“You don’t have to thank me, you were an absolute delight to look after! I had a good time.” You smiled, looking at your hands in your lap. He blushed at your words, marveling at how wonderful you looked right now. He had to go through with this.
“But, I want to,” he started confidently, before his next request had the nerves eating at him once more. “M-maybe we- uh, you and I could go out to eat? My t-treat, of course.” 
“Like, a date?”
“I... uh” he looked away shyly, “If you’d have me.” he answered, in a hopeful voice.
You couldn’t believe your ears. He wanted to spend more time with you? You were over the moon and beyond. Your crush just asked you out, in all of your messy morning glory. To answer his question you nodded your head enthusiastically, too happy to produce words. He let out the biggest sigh of relief at your reaction, fighting the urge to pinch himself because this must be a dream. And it felt like it, for the both of you. It was the start of a blooming relationship, one with maybe the most bizarre how you two met-story ever.
2K notes · View notes