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#he finally had a PURPOSE he finally felt like he was doing something worthwhile
thatlittledandere · 6 months
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Ok wow cool ok I. I think Mishima is my actual favorite character in Persona 5 now. I sort of forget he exists when he's not right in front of my eyes but every time he IS or even gets mentioned I go MISHIMAAAAAAAA 🥺🥺💖✨️💖💕❤️❤️💕😩😩🥺💖‼️‼️‼️ he's just a little guy.... whom I want to treat right... he's the first confidant I maxed I kept planning stuff around Mishima Hangout Sessions my heart sings when he texts. He's doing his best and nobody NOBODY appreciates him. I want to be NICE to him I want to be nice SO BAD. I WANT NOTHING MORE. MARUKI CONSTRUCT ME A REALITY WHERE I CAN BE MISHIMA'S FRIEND AND WE HAVE A DEAL-
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unorthodoxfaithxx · 20 days
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The Love Language of Flowers (Yandere OP Shanks/Reader)
I finally remembered what I had forgotten to do once I opened this account -- and that was to share this fanfiction I had wrote on AO3 with you all!
Smut; Yandere ; AFAB
Synopsis :
You were a sickly floral shop owner in an otherwise dreary island. Despite your flowers bringing joy to the island, the villagers never welcomed you with open arms, only accepting you for your coin and products.
When Shanks and his crew come around, the treatment gets worse.
Shanks. He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
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Chapter 1: Hyacinth - Jealousy
“Come again!” You said cheerfully at the departing guest.
“Yeah, yeah…” The man grumbled as he walked out of your store, slamming the door shut behind him.
You glanced down at your transaction book and sighed, leaning back only to gasp as you nearly knocked over your finest floral vase.
“Oh, dear,” You said breathlessly, stabilizing the wobbly porcelain as fast as you could. With a quick sigh of relief, you shook your head, chastising yourself mentally.
“Sorry, lillies. I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear.”
The flowers in the vase didn’t respond, but you knew they wouldn’t. Being ostracized from the village had left you lonely and turning to flowers for conversation.
They were never known for their hospitality, —you were aware of this when you moved to the island three years ago to find a cure for your illness— but the villagers were even more hostile ever since you had befriended a certain pirate captain and his crew.
Dangerous , a senior woman on the island had warned you, Pirates are no good, heartless ruffians that take and take ‘til there’s nothing left!
But if that were the case, then why were they so nice to you? In the year that you had known them, they graced you with more kindness and hospitality than all of the villagers had ever offered, combined. It always made you happy to see them, and as your relationships deepened, it was harder to watch them go.
Your hand subconsciously moved to touch the bandage at your neck. If only the flowers that remedied your illness were able to grow elsewhere besides the island. Maybe then you could travel, move somewhere far away. But until then, you were content with living your life the way you did.
Your pride and joy was your flower shop. Using the only money you had left from your late father’s inheritance, you opened up your store in hopes of sharing the joy of flowers with everyone around you. The villagers might have disliked you for being an outsider, but they loved your products. So they kept coming back and you were able to keep food on the table.
Today was proving to be a slow day, though. With no orders for floral arrangements, plants, or vases, you found yourself eying your transaction logs wearily again.
The sound of your door chimes ringing quickly caught your attention, and you hopped off from your stool to greet your guest properly.
“Welcome to Floral Feel—-Oh, hi, Red!” Your smile widened into something genuine as a tall, red-haired man approached your counter.
“And hello to you too, Sunshine.” Your heart did double flips at the nickname. You’re the one who started the whole charade, but you couldn’t help but feel funny every time he called you that.
“How’s your day been, Shanks?”
“It’s been alright. My men and I are preparing to make way for the sea next week, so I’ve been busy with preparations.”
“Aw, leaving so soon? Must have had enough of this dreary place, eh?”
“I’d agree, but a certain pocket of sunshine has been making it worthwhile,” He made a show of winking, and you giggled at the gesture.
“Well, I’m glad to be of service. Here!” You handed him a clipped rose from a nearby vase. He took it and put it up to his face, eyes closed, inhaling deeply its scent.
“Smells nice,” He spoke, and when he opened his he was greeted with your stunned face.
“What, something on my face?” He joked.
You shook your head.
“Nothing like that,” you spoke with a touch of admiration in your voice, “I always thought flowers brought beauty out of a person, but with you, you simply make the flowers more beautiful.”
Your words had him stunned, but he recovered within seconds.
“You are a true Casanova, you know that?” He chuckled, breaking the rose off its long stem. He leaned over to tuck the flower behind your ear.
“And I can say the same to you, you make that rose look ravishing ,” He whispered close to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
“Please don’t eat the flowers,” You chuckled nervously.
“Nah, there’s something else I want to eat,” Combined with the intense look he gave you, his words had you turning pink in the cheeks.
“Oh my god, Shanks,” You said with your hands covering your face.
He laughed a hearty laugh, clearly pleased with your reaction.
“Oh, but I’m not joking, Love .”
Love.
The two of you had started dating only recently, and you still couldn’t wrap it around your head that you two were together now. Shanks had always been a tease, but ever since the two of you became official, it’s been absolute mayhem for your heart.
“ Please, Shanks ,” You spoke through your hands. Your ears were red, a color he said he loved to see on you.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Sorry for teasing you, Sunshine,” He patted your head, “But I digress, I was wondering if you were up to eating at the local tavern with my crew and I tonight. My treat.”
“Aw, although that’s sweet of you, Red, I have to decline,” You shut the proposition down without hesitation. “I’m not one to drink, and…I’m not welcome there.”
His smile dropped at that. “Like they refuse to serve you, or you just don’t feel welcome?”
You waved your hands. “Oh, no, no! Nothing like that. I just don’t feel welcome. The venom is there, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s obvious I’m not wanted in the village.”
He sighed. “You know, I can take care of that if you’d like.”
“Nuh-uh,” you waved a finger pointedly at him, “You are not threatening the villagers.”
He’d cross his arms if he could. “And who said I would be threatening them?”
You gave him a look.
“Okay, okay, no threatening. Can I at least get you take-out for dinner?”
That perked you up, “Sure! I’m not sure what they have, but get me anything you think I’d like, please?”
“Aye-aye, Captain.” He winked again, and you giggled at his words.
“Well, I have to check on the boys. I’ll leave you to your own devices, yeah?”
“Okie dokie. I’ll see you tonight!” You smiled brightly and waved him goodbye.
He smiled down at you with love in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks flush again.
A quick peck on the lips left you frozen with your mouth hung open. He laughed as he walked out, giving you a wave in return.
Once you heard the door’s jingle, you shut your mouth and screamed into your hands.
———————————
A few days passed uneventfully. Shanks stopped by your shop every now and then for a chat, on a rare occasion coming with his right-hand man or other crew mates. Today was one of those days.
“So you’re the little lady that’s got our captain smitten, huh?” The mocha skinned man said. He introduced himself as Yassop, throwing you a wink.
“That would be I! Although he’s got me smitten too. Probably even more so.”
Yassop shook his head at that. “No way. If only you knew how much we’ve had to hear Shanks ramble on about the ‘pretty lady in the flower shop’. It’s been driving us crazy! Our ship is full of flowers now, you know.”
You turned to Shanks. “I was wondering what you were doing with all those flowers! You shouldn’t feel obligated to purchase something every time you stop by, you know. “
“Eh, I’m just supporting my lady’s business.”
“Well, your lady is honored.” You offered a mock bow.
With your head dipped down, Yasopp took notice of the crystal flowers displayed behind you. Beautifully crafted, each flower was hand blown, delicately carved out of stained glass.
“Those don’t look like the kind of flowers you usually sell, miss. They look like they cost a fortune. How much for those?”
“Oh, these?” You turned around to stare at them yourself, touching a glass leaf gently. “They’re not for sale, I’m afraid. These were actually a gift from the Whitebeard crew when I first moved into the island. You probably know who they are, yeah? Well one of the boys had a thing for me and tried to propose to me with these!” You laughed briefly, “Can you believe that? I of course said no, but he let me keep the gift anyways. He said it was specially made for me and would just be thrown away otherwise.”
You were too busy admiring the crystal flowers that you didn’t see the face Shanks made. Yasopp saw him clench his fists, but had no intention of bringing it up.
“That’s… nice ,” Shanks forced out.
You turned and teased, “What, jealous? I can assure you that my heart belongs to one person and one person only.”
You took a crystal poppy out of the vase and handed it to him, “That person is you, Shanks. Another beautiful flower for an even more beautiful man.”
“Damn, Shanks, you didn’t tell me that your girl was such a Casanova. Got any compliments for me, pretty lady?”
“I have no problem admiring beauty when I see it. You sir, have gorgeous hair.”
“I-“ Yasopp was taken aback, “No one recognizes the care that goes into my hair, so thank you! Say,” He started, batting his eyes frivolously, “Are you single?”
That got a laugh out of you both.
The velvet haired man elbowed his crew mate. “Hey, no flirting in front of the captain, it’s rude. And don’t steal my girlfriend, jackass.”
You giggled at that, although Yasopp could recognize through years of knowing the man that Shanks wasn’t joking.
He threw his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, I won’t play anymore.” He rubbed the arm Shanks had hit.
“I’m actually here with Shanks today ‘cause he told me you had dried flowers for teas. I wanted to stock up. We won’t be back for a while, and I get tired of booze every night.”
You beamed. Tea was one of your best sellers. “Oh, of course!” Shanks tucked the crystal flower in his waist sash, and you led the two to a section of your store with pouches of dried petals and flower buds. “Go ahead and open and smell them if you’d like. And I’ll throw in a bag for free, on the house.”
“Appreciated, boss lady!”
You felt a strong arm snake around your waste, and you leaned into Shanks’s torso. “Thanks, Sunshine,” He said softly while Yasopp was busy smelling the roses, literally.
“It’s no problem, I want to be good to the people who’re good to you, Red.”
Shanks sighed. “Your earnestness is gonna be the death of me, Love. I’m already holding back …” He murmured that last part under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Eh, don’t worry about it.”
So worry about it you did not. You spent the remaining half hour talking to the two men and explaining what each tea was and how to best brew them. Yasopp ended up purchasing your whole stock of chamomile and dandelion teas, and you threw in a bag of hibiscus tea for free.
The two ended up leaving after their purchases to reorganize dry storage on the ship.
“Hey, I was joking about your girlfriend earlier,” Yasopp brought up while walking back to the dock.
“Pshh, I know. No hard feelings, yeah?”
Yasopp gave him a side eye. He knew how Shanks could get around the things he loved. “…No hard feelings. I’m going ta make way first, dying to try this hibiscus tea.”
“Go ahead, I got some more errands to run before heading back on.” Yasopp didn’t question it, nodding as he slung the large sack of tea pouches over his shoulder.
When he was out of sight, Shanks went into an empty alleyway, using Haki to make sure no one was in the vicinity, especially not you.
He pulled the crystal poppy you gave him out of his waistband, turning it over in his hand. It really was fine craftsmanship. Someone spent a lot of thought and time into making this gift for you. Beautiful, really. 
He stretched his hand out, and dropped the flower onto the concrete. His heel crushed the glass with a loud, satisfying crack .
Chapter 2: Marigold - Passion
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. There wasn’t much that could phase him, even if the most horrific of insults or treatment was thrown his way. As one of the strongest men of the sea, it seldom happened anyways.
But when his loved ones were treated maliciously, the whole script would flip. He’d get angry, belligerent even, and be ready to fight to the death to safeguard those he cared about. The failure to save his childhood captain left a scar in his heart, only fueling his desire to protect.
That’s why when he saw you on the street corner, covered in food, dirt and sand (and what that blood? Fuck that.) just sitting there with your items scattered on the ground, he was seeing red.
“What do you kids think you’re doing?” He growled with deadliest, Haki infused glare he could muster without making anyone in the vicinity faint.
Shanks was not one to hurt children. But seeing you sit there pathetically with tears in your eyes, he so badly wanted to break a bone or two and teach a few life-altering lessons to those hell-spawn.
They were smart at least, because they obviously got the memo and ran off for their lives, shrieking pathetically with their tails tucked between their legs.
“Don’t you ever try this again!” He shouted at them, sighing as he watched them leave for the hills. Once he knew they were no longer an immediate problem he turned all his attention to you.
His beautiful flower, all crumpled and stained with tears. He wanted to shake your shoulders and yell, ‘How could you let this happen to you?’ but knew you would never fight back against children, innocent or not.
“Oh, my love, you okay?” He muttered, kneeling down to meet eye level with you. “What happened?”
It was obvious what happened. Some demon-spawn decided to torment the nicest person in the village, knowing she wouldn’t retaliate. If he could just lay his hands on them, they’d be dead. DEA—
“I was walking back home with groceries when the kids must have thought it’d be funny to play a prank on me. They had me circled and started throwing rocks and rotten food at me. I’m fine now, though,” You smiled weakly, wiping your tears with a clean sleeve, “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Give me a hand?”
He grabbed your delicate hand and helped you up. You dusted yourself off and sighed, making way to pick up the groceries that had all but scattered across the dirt path. He mimicked your actions and before long, your groceries were back in your crumpled brown bag, although beat up and dirty.
You were too nice for your own good. Because even now you didn’t show anger against those children or try to get Shanks, the strongest man in the village at the moment, to do anything about it.
When he asked you why, you responded, “Because knowing the village, it was the adults who put them up to this. In fact I recognized two of those kids, and they usually come into the shop just to visit and give me flowers. I pity them all, knowing they’ll grow up to be the same as their parents, with hatred and distrust in their hearts. One of them looked like they were four years old, Shanks, four. How could I beat up a toddler, let alone get you to do it for me?”
Too nice indeed. Because to be honest (and hopefully you’d never find this out), Shanks was fully prepared to dunk a kid in a trash can and shut the lid if you just asked.
“In any case, I’m just glad you’re okay. Are you going back to the shop?” He asked.
You paused to think about it. “…No. I don’t really feel up to running the store right now.”
“I don’t blame you.” You seemed so sad. Shanks felt his heart twist painfully to see your usually bright self so demure, and not in the good way. He would do anything to get you to smile again.
An idea came to him. “Say, how about I give you a tour of the Red Force? You haven’t been on it yet, right?”
That seemed to perk you right up. “Oh wow, really? I’d love that! I’m surprised you haven’t offered sooner, to be honest. I’ve been dying to see your ship, just didn’t want to impose.”
You looked down at yourself sheepishly.
“Uh, can I go home and get changed first? I’m not exactly in the best condition for an outing right now.”
“Of course,” He stepped closer to you, “I don’t mind if you get changed. Although I’d like if you had nothing to change with at all.” He ended that with a wink, smirking as he saw you glow bright red.
“Oh my god, Shanks!” You jumped to cover his mouth looking around to see if anyone else heard that, “ We’re in public! ”
He moved your hands out of the way, grinning like a madman. “Oho. So you wouldn’t mind if it was in private, yeah?”
You were crimson at this point, and Shanks loved every second of it. By Davey Jones,  you were so cute. Your response though, had his head going into overdrive.
“I…” You fidgeted shyly, “I mean…. not really ,” You muttered that last part, and it took Shanks everything in him not to take you home and bed you right then and there.
He wanted to touch you, and bad.
“Getting bold, are we?” He bent over to say lowly against your ear.
“I mean—woah!” He had scooped you up in one arm, impressively. “Shanks, put me down! You’ll get your clothes dirty.”
“No can do. I saw the way you were avoiding putting pressure on your left leg. You hurt your ankle, didn’t ya?”
You looked away embarrassed and sighed. “Yes,” you mumbled, “But I can still walk!”
“Would you rather this, or me beat up those kids?”
“Ugh. This.”
“Then let me do this for you, yeah? It’s the least I can do for my pocket of sunshine.”
You smiled at the nickname and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek.
Again, it took everything in him not to bed you right then and there.
—————————-
You had a blast getting to see the ship. It was big up close, but even bigger inside. You got to meet the rest of the crew, and was pleased to see Yasopp drinking one of your signature teas. He offered the two of you some, and the three of you both shared a cup for a brief but enjoyable moment.
By the time Shanks’s impromptu tour was over, the sun was lowering into a nice, warm sunset.
Shanks had walked you all the way home like the handsome gentleman he was. He always looked at you with such fierce passion that you could melt under his stare. Today, it was even more apparent, and you had trouble making eye contact with him.
When you finally had the courage to not look down at your feet though, you noticed he was staring at you with such a serious expression that you thought something was wrong.
“Thanks for everything today, Shanks. Is there something bothering you? You look like you got something on your mind.”
He looked at you for a moment, silent. His large hands clasped over yours with a gentle squeeze.
“…Come with me, sunshine. I can take you far, far away from these people and keep you safe.”
You seemed to hesitate, something he noticed. But you simply looked at him with sad eyes and shook your head no.
“You know I can’t, Red. I can’t leave my shop. And look,” You pointed at your bandaged neck, “Can’t exactly leave when the only known medicine for my condition is on this island, can’t I?”
“Then we’ll get you a doctor. We can find someone in the New World to heal you, or at least find a way to keep those flowers that you need alive in soil not from this island,” He was pleading with you, and your heart broke at the sound.
“But you don’t know that for sure. And I don’t want to be a burden on the crew when I’m already as fragile as I am.”
Silence.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.
The man remained unmoving from his position. A dark shadow covered his face.
“No.”
He gripped your forearms. Strong enough that you couldn’t budge, but not enough to hurt you.
“You don’t understand, Love. I can take care of you. In more ways than one.”
“No,” he muttered, and it felt like it was to himself, “No. I am not leaving you behind. Not when you’re right here and suffering, when I can do something. Not when I need you.”
He leaned in, staring deep into your eyes.
“And I know you need me too. Don’t you?”
The way he stared at you, with loving, worried eyes made your heart melt. Eyes that were desperate to keep you. Tears prickled your eyes as you smiled weakly.
“You jerk. You already know the answer to that.”
He chuckled softly. “I know. But I want to hear you say it.”
“I need you, Red.”
No reaction.
You sighed. “I need you, Shanks.”
He wrapped you tightly in his embrace, enveloping your body with his like a strong cocoon shielding you from the outside world.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, soaking in eachother’s warmth. Part of you was tempted to invite him, beg him to stay.
Eventually the two of you parted ways, him stopping at your door and giving you a kiss goodnight. You smiled as he walked away with a wave, evening sun illuminating his crimson hair.
You closed the door and prepared for bed.
Later that night, your thoughts roamed to your beloved pirate captain.
He was so strong, stronger than you could ever be. And part of you hoped you could stay shielded under him forever. You always felt like no harm could come to you when he was around. That with him, everything would be okay.
If only you knew at the time what he was capable of.
—————————-
Shanks laid in his bed and pondered ways to keep you with him. He was leaving soon, and he knew you had too many attachments to this island to persuade you to leave with him and the crew.
And like a match being struck, an incongruous idea formed in his head. One he knew you’d never forgive him for if you found out. Hell, you’d probably hate him for the rest of your life.
It was simple, really. Get rid of your attachments. That way, the only thing you’d be attached to was him. In a way, he was doing you more than one favor. The villagers treated you like shit, and he could make sure your life was far happier than what it was now. No one would dare mistreat you ever again.
Yeah. It was a good idea. An idea so good he immediately hopped off his bed, and got to work. He checked the clock in his quarters.
Half past midnight. Good. That means no one would be around to see what he did. He carefully slipped out of the ship, watchful as to not wake any of his crew members or catch the attention of Beckman, who was on watch duty that night. In his hand was a large canister of kerosene.
Once he reached his destination, he looked up at the delicate sign you had crafted.
Floral Feelings .
Feelings, huh? You could blame feelings for what was to come. He had such intense feelings for you that he’d do anything, anything to get you to stay by his side.
Shanks was a simple man. Drink a lot, sleep a lot, sail a lot, work a lot. And when his loved ones were hurt, do everything in his power to remedy the problem. Even if it meant hurting in the beginning.
Breaking into the building, he splashed oil onto the floor, on the counters, on the flowers, and the walls. He noticed those damned crystal flowers and knocked the entire vase onto the floor, satisfied with the loud crash that resonated in the building.
Once he was satisfied with his work, he stepped outside, carefully maintaining distance from the small structure. Pulling a match from his waistband, he lit it, and threw it into the oil covered doors with a simple flick.
Chapter 3: Morning Glory - Obsession
The village officers say it happened in the dead of night.
No one heard it happen, and the culprit left no traces that’d help with any investigation. The best thing they could do was write it off as an accident, and hope your insurance would reimburse you for most of the damages.
They questioned you for over an hour, filling their books with useless information that’d do nothing to help find the culprit. They had even considered you to be a suspect, but the fierce look in your eyes and a seething glare had them scratching that off the book as soon as the suggestion came. When they left, you were all alone.
You just stared, eyeing the rubble that was left of your store.
Your pride and joy was reduced to nothing but ash.
What’s worse is you knew one of the villagers did it. But who? Everyone in this blasted town had something against you. Was it Marnie, the mother of three that blamed you for throwing her decor shop out of business? Or Riley, the man who was convinced you were a witch? Maybe even Lucina, who you fired after finding out she was deliberately poisoning your plants a week into work.
It could even be one of the teenagers that seemed to hate your guts for no reason. They would enjoy a prank like this. You wouldn’t be surprised.
You held yourself in a weak attempt at comfort. What you really needed was Shanks. You couldn’t handle this place anymore.
No, you wanted to leave .
As you trudged your way to the Red Force, the mocking marmalade sky reminded you of the flames that must have engulfed your shop in the night. Tears fell down your face as you thought of years of hard work and memories — lost to the wind, just like that.
By the time you made it to the dock, Yassop was there, ready to make his way to your shop. He didn’t question your teary eyed expression or soot stained dress. Word must have spread quick, because he offered his condolences and silently lead you to Shanks’s quarters. When you arrived at the door, he gave you a pat on the back and left you to your own devices.
—————————————-
Aboard the Red Force, all was quiet. It was later into the evening, and supper was served not too long ago. The captain of the Red-Hair pirates was sitting at his desk, eyeing the clock every other moment, waiting for your appearance. According to Beckman the villagers were gossiping up a storm about the fire since this morning. There was no way you haven’t gone to see your shop yet. Knowing you, you’d come around when you were ready to talk, but he worried about leaving you alone at such a vulnerable time. Maybe he should seek you out. Why haven’t you come to him yet?
Shanks sighed, continuing to go over logs until a gentle rapt at the door caught his attention. It couldn’t have been his noisy men, who had a tendency to barge in unannounced. Who the hell was bothering him at this hour?
“Who is it?” He inquired.
“…Shanks? It’s me.” A muffled voice muttered through the door.
“Sunshine??” He quickly got up from his desk, pulling his things back into their respective drawers.
Shuffling to the door, he was greeted by none other than you, your beautiful face stained and red with tears.
“Oh no, Sunshine. Come here.” He quickly wrapped you in a warm embrace.
“My shop…it’s all gone, Shanks,” you sobbed, “They burned it all down.”
“Yasopp just told me earlier. Believe me, I was going to come see you as soon as I heard the news. I just had to wrap things up so we could depart soon.”
“Don’t go…” You sniffled weakly against his chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, Love. Least not yet.” He reassured you.
You poor thing. All teary eyed and heartbroken. It hurt to see you like this. He may have been the reason for it, but your pained expression still angered him to see. What a hypocrite he was, but if anyone else had caused it they’d be dead in a heartbeat.
“You wanna sit down?”
You shook your head no, sniffling.
“Well we can’t stand here forever. Here, come in and si—“
“Shanks…” You interrupted meekly, pulling at his shirt, “What am I supposed to do now?”
He held you tighter. “One step at a time, Love. We can figure this out one step at a time.”
“I’ve tried so hard to be accepted by these people. But what have I got to show for it? Nothing but food and rocks thrown at me, and the burning of my most prized possession. It’s all just hideous.”
You blinked up at him, “I…I just want to stop thinking for a moment. Please help me forget, Shanks.”
“Sure, just come in so we can sit and chat about something else.”
You looked away, as if pondering the proposition for a moment.
The man stopped breathing when he felt you pull his shirt collar towards yourself, kissing him right on the lips. To his chagrin, you parted after a minute, trailing kisses down his neck.
“I’d rather do something else…”
Oh . Well if that’s how you wanted to forget, he could absolutely do that.
“Love, are you sure?” He still wanted to be a gentleman, giving you another way out before he locked you in . Because once he had you, he wasn’t going to let you go.
You nodded.
Gingerly, as if afraid to break you, his hand trailed down from your back to your hips, and he leaned forward to gently caress your mouth with his tongue. The first kiss was soft, with you reaching to wrap your arms over his neck. Your arms tightened, you pressing your tongue back against his to fight your way in. He relented easily, letting you dominate. His body was tingling when he felt your tongue trail inside his mouth.
When the two of you parted lips, you were panting heavily. You looked so good right then, cheeks pink with puffy red lips.
“C’mere,” Shanks ushered. Once you two were both inside, he shut the door with a heavy bang , making sure to lock the door behind him.
As soon as that door was shut, he pushed your sniveling form onto his bed, crawling over you to meet your eyes. The bed creaked under his weight.
“Oh, you poor thing. I’ll make sure you forget everything, sweetheart. Just trust me.” He wiped a tear from your eye.
You reached out for him, and his heart ached.
Without much effort, he lifted your dress off your head. It took every fiber of restraint in his being not to just tear your clothes off.
“Oh, you’re so beautiful.”
He stared down at your bare chest, your delicate mounds rising and lowering quickly with excitement.
“You’re far more beautiful,” You said with a gentle smile. You began to pet his hair and he almost growled. “Please,” you pleaded, “Just take me.”
“Fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been holding myself back. I’ve been so scared that I’d scare you away or break you. You’re absolutely perfect.”
You giggled softly. “I’m stronger than I look, Shanks. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”
His eyes raked over your pretty form hungrily. He was going to consume you, and he had your permission to do it. Life couldn’t get any better than this.
You shook under his predatory gaze, looking away abashedly.
“Aw, come on now. Look at me. I wanna see your gorgeous eyes.”
You slowly moved back to look at him, enamored by those heavily-lidded eyes gazing upon you with such passion.
He made quick work with your undergarments. Before you knew it, your undies and bra were on the other side of the room, his own pants following after.
“May I?” He asked, leaning close to your face.
You nodded again.
Using his hand to lean atop you, his mouth met one of your hardened nipples, tongue rolling around in a circle.
You gasped at the sensation, lowly moaning as he suckled on your breast.
You mewled, and oh, how he’d love to hear that sound every day. At this point, he wished he still had his other arm so he could touch you all over. He’d have to make due. His knee moved up to your crotch, and you whined at the pleasure of it pressing against you.
He detached from your nipple with a loud pop . “Didja like that, baby?”
You nodded shyly, bringing your hands to your face in a cute attempt to cover your blushing cheeks.
“What’s the matter, Sunshine? I said I wanted to look at ya.”
“It’s just—I’m only now realizing that I asked for this, but uh, I’m inexperienced. I haven’t done this in a long, long time,” Your admitted, voice trailing off into a quiet mumble, “…this is embarrassing. And it doesn’t help that you’re really attractive.” You patted your cheeks like you wanted to wake yourself up.
He chuckled softly at that. You were so . Fucking . Endearing . “I’ll take care of you, Love. Just gotta relax for me, yeah? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You look stunning.”
“And look,” You squeaked when he kneeled back to rub your sex with his large hand, shortly before lifting it up and splaying his fingers out to display your slick coating his fingers, “You’re already doing so good right now. All nice and wet for me.”
“I-I—-hnggggg,” You bemoaned, hand reaching to cover your face again before Shanks caught it.
“Ah-ah-ah. Keep doing that and I’ll have to tie you to the bed post. Or would ya like that, eh?”
You were a blushing, stuttering mess at this point, both aroused and mortified like there was no tomorrow.
“I….maybe? I dunno, Shanks.”
Oh fuck yes.
The image of you chained to his bed, begging for action or inaction, had his lower member throbbing .
Your words let out some sort of primal beast in him, because his desire never felt so strong in his life. His instincts told him to claim you and to claim you NOW, and never let you go until the ends of time.
That’s it. He wanted you now, and bad.
But he had to be patient. You were in his grasps and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off.
Patience, Shanks. You already made it this far , he told himself.
You gasped at the feeling of his cock poking your entrance.
“I don’t wanna wait anymore, baby. Can I?” He breathed.
You smiled shyly at his request, sending his heart over the moon. “Please.”
That was all he needed. He grunted as he pushed himself into you. God, you felt so tight and warm . If it was up to him he’d like to stay like that forever. He started slowly, pumping in and out of you in the best missionary position he could muster with one hand.
“Ahhh, Shanks,” You cried sweetly. “Th—that feels nice .”
He leaned fully into you, his large torso nearly crushing yours as he made way to encroach his dick into the deepest part of your being. You looked so good with your breasts crushed between your legs. The two of you shared a heated kiss, Shanks thrusting into you harder as his tongue explored the cave of your mouth.
“Fuck, Sunshine. I could fuck you all day. You like your pussy getting pounded?”
You could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, which was all the ‘yes’ he needed.
“Roll to the side for me, baby.” As you laid on your side, he did too, his thick cock sliding in from behind you. He grabbed your leg and lifted it up for better leeway, grunting as he pumped you full with his dick.
“Oh fuck, Shanks, you feel too good. You’re making me feel so good right now.” You praised. He moaned at your words, teeth sinking into your soft neck. He peppered your tender throat with kisses, never stopping his rhythm, if anything slamming into you harder after hearing those words.
You looked so fucking sexy, laid out like a fine gift just for him. He was never one for marriage, being a pirate and all, but here and now he knew you’d be the one. Your ass was so hot as it jiggled, and he was obsessed with watching the perfect way your wet pussy took his dick in so easily. It’s like you were made for him, just for him and only for him.
It made him thrilled to know you hadn’t done something like this with anyone else in a long time. He was taking his time, and he absolutely loved it. He loved YOU. So fucking much.
He flipped you so you were now on your stomach. “On your knees,” He commanded huskily, voice thick with lust.
As soon as you obliged, his breath hitched at how utterly dirty you looked from behind, ass out, pussy dripping with wetness.
Your moans were sweet, so sweet. He cursed under his breath, eyes glued to the way your pussy was forming a white ring on his dick as he drilled into you from behind.
He didn’t ignore the way he felt you clenching tighter. A pleased smirk etched across his face. “That’s it, baby. You gonna come for me? Huh?”
“Hahhhh, yes!” You whined breathlessly as Shanks took you to paradise, forgetting all your troubles as you reached your high. “God, I’m coming!”
“Good girl.” That seemed to really set you off, because immediately after you moaned loudly, inner walls of your vagina beating rhythmically. He kept going, fucking you through your orgasm, much to his pleasure and your distress.
“W-wait, Shanks! I can’t take anymore, I’m— ahhh —really sensitive right now!”
“Oh, yes you can. Can’t you feel the way you’re sucking me in? Come on and take it, baby. You’re doing so good right now.” He slapped your ass and you yelped.
“Mmm, it feels too good,” Whined your cute self.
“You’re cute, ya know that? I just wanna spoil you and take care of you like this every day.”
“I’d like that,” You voiced between pants.
“Atta girl,” The red-haired man praised, leaning into you so could cup your breast with his hand.
He whispered into your ear, “I love the sounds you make, Sunshine. You know how long I’ve dreamed of doing this? God, what you do to me.”
And now that he had you, he’d be hard pressed to let you go.
“Shanks, let me ride you. I wanna see your face.”
“Sure thing, Love.”
So you two switched positions again. Shanks laid on the mattress, leaning back as he watched you insert himself into you.
It was such a turn on watching the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you started grinding your hips into him. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the lips.
“Let me help you with that,” He offered.
“What do you mea—ah!”
Shanks started thrusting as fast as he could into you, satisfied with the way your pussy tightened on him at every thrust. You held onto him tightly, fingers clawing at his back in a way that he didn’t mind.
You were moaning so lewdly. He felt himself slipping away, imagining a nice, cozy future together where he could fuck you as much as he liked. As much as you wanted.
Shit, he was gonna cum soon.
The fact that you felt so nice and warm was absolutely too much for him to handle.
“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum.”
You started suckling on his neck with vigor that was bound to leave nasty hickeys later, but he didn’t care.
“Keep going,” You ushered, “Don’t stop.”
“Shit, baby, you sure?” He said, sounding much more affected with each thrust.
He wasn’t expecting to come inside you but if that’s what you wanted, then fuck it.
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna come too!”
His breathing become haggard as he gripped your ass cheek with his hand, pumping into you like a madman. Finally, he felt that sweet release he was itching for as he let out ropes of cum into your pussy, your walls sucking him dry. You rode him even when he had nothing left to give dick sensitive to the touch.
You hopped off him and collapsed at his side, breathing heavily. He eyed the way cum slid down his dick, no thanks to you.
He gave you a kiss on the cheek.
“You did amazing, baby,” He praised.
“So did you. That felt great.”
The two of you laid there in silence, until you broke it. “I love you, Shanks.”
“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”
“…Take me with you, Shanks. I wanna join your crew.”
He shot right up at that. There was a twinkle in his eye. “Seriously? You mean it?”
You nodded, lips curving into the tiniest of smiles. “I can’t bear to see you go. And besides, ‘s not like I have anything left here anyways. Just…promise me we can find a doctor to help me?”
“Of course, Love, of course. Man I’m so glad you said that. I was seriously considering just snatching you away and taking you with us.”
You laughed at that, unaware he seriously meant it.
The idea was getting him all excited again.
“Say, you wanna go another round?”
“What—hey!”
And he was all over you, dragging kisses down your chest before you could say anything.
Chapter 4: Bonus Chapter : The Aftermath
“So, guess that’s everything!” You announced with the clap of your hands.
“Really? This isn’t a lot of stuff, Sunshine.”
You and Shanks were up early, packing your things so you’d be ready for the Red Force’s departure.
You scratched your head sheepishly. “Yeah, I don’t own many things. Being a florist doesn’t exactly earn you a mean amount of Berries, you know? Besides, I sold most of what I owned over the course of this week to have some pocket money.”
You were only bringing three bags with you : one for your clothes, one for your nic-nacs, and one small pouch for your medicines,  containing a stash of dried medicinal flowers for your illness. That’d keep your condition at bay for a month and a half, thankfully.
“Well, we have plenty of time to remedy that. Our band of misfits aren’t exactly broke, you know.”
“Aw, is Red trying to spoil me?”
“Only if you want.” He was standing beside you, hand on your hip as he gave you a peck on the cheek, watching with amazement at how fast your ears turned pink. Despite having gone all the way with him, you still felt like a shy, smitten schoolgirl around him. Perhaps the butterflies would wane over time.
“I appreciate it, but maybe another time. I got my own money to spend now, and I’d hate to use the ship’s coffers just for myself.”
“I mean, it’s gonna be inevitable, Love. We kind of have to pick up furnishings for your room. Unless you’d rather live in the captain’s quarters.”
“I mean….can I? Wait—I mean, only if you’re okay with that, I’m not saying I want your space and all, it’s just you’ll be there andIwon’thavetobealoneatnightand—“
Shanks beamed. “Woah, woah, slow your roll there pal. I’d love for you to stay with me. Contrary to popular belief, this cold-blooded captain gets lonely at night.
Your brightened at that.
“That being said, you’ll still have your own room to hang out in when you need space, and to hold all your things.”
“I understand,” You relented, “Where would we shop though?”
“In the village, of course. It’ll be a whole excursion. And I want you there to see the way they look at me when I walk into their shops. The faces they make are hilarious! You’re not the only one they dislike, ya know.” He gave you a hard pat on the back, making you go ‘oof’.
Once the two of you got your belongings on the ship, your trip around the village shops began. Shanks was right, seeing the villagers’ faces as your big bad captain showed up at their shop was hilarious. They didn’t even bother making any snide remarks to you because they were so busy being scared shitless of Shanks. The crimson haired man insisted you buy something for yourself on his dime, so you opted for a cheap sunhat and a new dress. Most of the shopping was dedicated to your would-be room, Shanks promising the shopkeeps he’d be back with his crew (that made one man nearly faint) to grab the furnishings after lunch.
The two of you were walking back to the dock.
“Shanks, I’m not getting anymore clothes,” You said after noticing he slipped a new pair of shoes into his bag.
“Well, who said they were for you?”
You threw him a look. “I don’t think you wear shoes that small. Unless you mean to buy for another woman.”
He threw you one back. “No way, don’t even joke about it. I’m loyal to you and to you alone, Sunshine.”
“Relax, big boy. I get it,” You smiled, “I’m loyal to you too.”
You sighed. “At least you’re better than my old boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” Inquired Shanks, a dangerous lilt in his voice that you failed to notice, “What was he like?”
“Handsome,” (Shanks did not like that), “A real heart stopper. But that was all he ever was. He was a playboy. Unreliable. Cheated on me with another girl and ran off with her. Last I heard, he became a shipwright in Water Seven. With a girl besides the one he cheated on me with, of course.”
“Damn, if I ever see him I’ll kick him in the balls for ya.”
You cackled at that. “Thanks, but I’d rather be the one to do it myself.”
“Feisty, eh?”
“Just for you, Shanks. Hey, where are you going?” You noticed he turned the opposite corner, which led to an alleyway. You followed suit, surprised when your back was pressed against the wall.
You gasped as a warm tongue quickly pushed its way into your mouth, a hand squeezing your waist as you were pulled into a demanding kiss.
When you parted ways, you were gasping for air. “W-what was that all about?”
There was a dark look in Shanks’s eyes, “Just claiming what’s mine. I don’t like it when you talk about other men in front of me. Or ever.”
Your cheeks felt terribly hot. And you found his possessiveness actually attractive rather than gross or controlling.
“Uh, I see,” You didn’t really know how to respond, “Guess I won’t do it again, haha.”
“Good girl.”
He gave you a kiss on the forehead, staring into your eyes as he spoke, “Let’s head back to the ship, yeah? There’s something I wanna do when we get back…”
You gulped. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
——————————————————-
Bonus POV: Shanks
You and I were packing your things early in the morning to bring to the Red Force. Without a doubt, I was ecstatic.
Truth be told, it was getting hard to part ways when we made out to sea. This time, I wouldn’t leave the island without you. I’m so glad you offered to come with me in the end.
Although, it did need a little encouragement.
Nonetheless I was happy. Only problem was you barely had anything to bring to the ship. This wouldn’t do. I didn’t realize how little you had until you mentioned not affording much as a florist.
My chest felt a pang of guilt at not noticing your needs. That was going to change though. From now on, I’d take care of you and make sure you were happy and would want for nothing. I offered to take you shopping since we needed furniture for your prospective room, anyways.
When you said you’d like to sleep in my quarters with me, I could feel my heart skip a beat. Everything about you was so perfect to me. And the fact that you reciprocated my feelings had me over the moon.
We ended up going shopping, and enjoyed mocking the villagers together. You were really amused to see their terrified faces at my presence. I don’t think you realized most people fear me, and that’s it’s kind of the normal reaction to have with pirates. Especially towards a Yonko like me. But that’s why I liked you in the first place. Because you weren’t scared. You treated everyone with respect and dignity, regardless of their situation. I’m glad you weren’t afraid of pirates.
That being said, if you ever got too friendly with another pirate crew (Whitebeard’s sons beware), there’d be hell to pay. I’m still trying to get the name of the sonofabitch who proposed to you, but you won’t relent. Probably because you know I’d make a complaint to Whitebeard. Smart girl.
You ended up buying a sunhat and a dress, much to my chagrin. I wish you got more things, but I understand you didn’t want to use my dime for your stuff. Hopefully that’d change in the future. You aren’t just my girlfriend anymore, you’re part of the crew. And I want to take care of you. It’d take some adjusting, but I know you’ll eventually grow to rely on me.
We were done shopping and headed towards the ship when you suddenly brought up your old boyfriend. Why? I felt jealousy surge inside me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Yassop had told me before that I need to work on keeping my possessiveness in check. Didn’t wanna scare you off, after all.
So I listened as you called him handsome, and then went on to call him a cheater, listing all the other terrible things about him that made you two separate. He sounded like a mouse of a man. You could have done better. But that was all in the past, right? You were doing better now.
You were mine. And mine alone. The thought always excited me, maybe to an unhealthy degree.
I led you to an alleyway so I could kiss you in private. I couldn’t handle the lack of physical touch when we were so close together. I absolutely loved the way you tasted, I do everytime we kiss.
I love you. I love you so much.
Do I regret hurting you to get the outcome I wanted? Not one bit. I’d do it again, even if it means you’d find out. 
Because now, I had you all to myself.
349 notes · View notes
bunnyley00 · 6 months
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Bittersweet Punishment
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pairing: gang member fem!reader x mafia boss!nanami
genre: slight angst, smut, fluff
rating: 18+ 
word count: 7.8K (something's wrong with me ik)
warnings: slightly angsty, mention of drug usage, nanami is emotionally constipated but eventually figures it out, light bondage with a certain item ahem, impact play (spanking), dirty talk, light degradation, overstim, sex on multiple surfaces, punishment kink, orgasm denial, hair pulling, fingering, oral sex, dom nanami, fluffy aftercare
When you don’t listen to your boss who happens to be running the biggest crime syndicate in the world, there’s ultimately going to be consequences.  
Joining the crime ring scene was probably one of the best decisions you could’ve made with your life. Abandoned by your father, and taking care of your mother as she widdled her existence away doing drugs, you had nowhere else to go. Your other relatives were too far away, and they didn’t even know you. So, you sucked it up and finished school, and managed to get a good job at some random company as a data analyst. You always hated it, felt like you were wasting your life away every day at a desk. The only thing that made it worthwhile was your boss: Nanami Kento. He was tall, handsome, and precise with everything he did. Seeing him about once every week to give him your written reports was always a highlight. You strove to go above and beyond, looking for a sense of purpose through your occupation. Needless to say, it paid off. 
You see, Nanami wasn’t the man you thought him to be. Yes, he looked strong, probably capable of throwing someone across a room, but you had never seen him act out or be violent. So when one random weekend, you received an anonymous invitation to some undisclosed location miles out, only to discover that the Nanami Kento you know happened to be the leader of the Kaisen Syndicate, you didn’t know how to react. But from then forward, you knew you had found something truly special. If you remember the way he put it: ���I respect your tenacity and work ethic more than anything else. I would like to see if you’re willing to display those qualities elsewhere.” 
At first, you wanted to deny him, to tell him he’s insane and how could he be in charge of such a terrifying and dangerous group of people. But then, you take a moment. This Syndicate has done terrible things, yes, but only to terrible people: drug dealers, traffickers, money laundering schemists; The list goes on. Even if their methods were less than… moral, the result was a cleaner world, and you could get behind that. So you trained as hard as you possibly could, breaking your limits one by one, body and soul. You probably worked the hardest to get where you were, and it felt good to reap the benefits. You never grew hungry, or without. The Syndicate was like family to you, one you never had. But Nanami, he was always who you had your eyes on, seeking his approval and praise, bettering yourself not only for you but for him. So he could finally just see you without the eyes of a man who’s just in charge.  
You suddenly come to your senses, remembering that you were in a Syndicate meeting and it was hardly the time for a trip down memory lane. This is a huge job. That’s what you think half haphazardly in your mind anyway as Nanami continues with his meeting about the next mission that needs to be carried out for the inevitable expansion of the group. A deal had gone wrong with an enemy gang for some material a month back, and now we were to seize the materials forcefully… use them as an example of sorts. That was the gist anyway. The intel was crucial for everyone who could be chosen for situations like this, in case something doesn’t go according to plan. That’s who Nanami was, even at the company; He was someone who had backup plans for his backup plans. But, who could blame him? Working as a salaryman as a front for his mafioso dealings, he needed the insurance. It wasn’t an option. 
You’d felt as though you’d certainly be chosen for this mission. You were undoubtedly one of the best in the middle ranks, and your colleagues knew how hard you worked. Someone with barely any prior knowledge of combat, manipulation, and intel gathering forced you to become a novice overnight, something everyone respected you for. 
Nanami paced back and forth slowly and methodically in front of a projector displaying the area that would be infiltrated while explaining the details. “As previously stated, this will be a two-man operation at most. There is no need to send the whole Syndicate to a rival organization that cannot respect us or have the common decency to behave. Therefore we shall not be overextending ourselves and show them that we will not be toyed with, with as minimal effort as possible.” His voice was monotone yet smooth, words coming out with purpose.
“You will get in, dispose of any that get in your way, gather the product and return to me. In addition, there is an envelope that you will deliver to their leader. Under no circumstances will you kill him. While it could dissolve them, it could also lead to another person being inclined to take his place and start a full-on war. I’m not a fan of working overtime, as you all know, so a war is not a goal of mine.” 
The room full of members all hummed and nodded in agreement, and you continued to watch Nanami, his words beginning to drown out as you watched him walk. He was clad in his usual attire, always in some sort of suit and tie. The jacket fit him just right but the dress shirt underneath was always a little too small for him in the best way. You swore you could see the outline of his pecks, that the buttons were probably screaming to be let free from the prison that was his fit abdominal structure. 
“I will summon the two members suited for the job later today. You’re all dismissed.” 
Those words made you snap out of your trance, and you stood up, letting everyone file out. You were one of the last ones to leave the meeting room, but Nanami stopped you. 
“Wait. There’s something I’d like to discuss with you,” he piped up as he gathered up files and mission info neatly. He’d been doing that quite frequently lately, asking you about your training, about your work at the company, about just…you in general. It never bothered you one bit. 
“Yes?,” you ask politely as you turn around, making your way toward him. Your eyes meet his through his glasses, the green tint making it hard to see his actual dark brown eyes. “How has your physical condition been lately? I was informed that you pushed too hard during your spar last week. You were limping for days.” You let out a soft, “Pshh,” waving a bit with your hand, “I’m okay. It was just a few scratches.” 
Nanami hated when you lied, especially because you were shit at it. “Besides,” you continue, “Should it matter? I’m just another cog in the machine, right?” “No,” he stated in rebuttal, “I respect and trust every one of my colleagues. Had you been someone else I would’ve asked the same questions.” 
‘Wow, way to make me feel special, boss,’ you thought before mentally berating yourself for expecting any other response but that one. 
You hum, watching his large hands continue to fiddle with papers. “How have you been, then?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrows. “I hardly see how that information is relevant.” “Because I respect and trust you, I want to know how you’re doing. Same concept.” He knew you were playfully mocking him, then again, you always did that.  “It’s not the same. You don’t bear my burdens so my feelings aren’t what matters here.” 
God, he was so confusing when he did this. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him. “Sure, boss.” “That attitude is why you’re always getting into heated scraps. And you know I dislike the title ‘boss’,” he mused, “Even at the company I can’t stand it.” He finally finished gathering his things. “Just continue to execute like you always have. You’re one of my best, don’t squander it by getting so hurt that you can’t.” 
“Yes Sir,” you answered back respectfully, internally blushing at the words ‘one of my best’. He very rarely complimented you so directly in this line of work. 
A day later, you prepared yourself to be called into Nanami’s office at Syndicate Headquarters, the pre-mission butterflies floating around in your stomach in a way that made you increasingly giddy. Walking about the halls, you waited and waited, looking for an announcement, listening for gossip on who he’d chosen. You hoped to hear your name amongst the hushed whispers. However, what you found out frankly just pissed you off. 
“Didn’t you know?”, Itadori asked, chewing on a piece of his milk bread fruit sandwich. “Know what?”, you cocked an eyebrow up. “Nanamin chose me and Takuma-san.” “He what?!” “Yeah, the meeting was earlier this morning. I asked him if he was sure and he just said what he always does. The whole, ‘This is the most efficient way’ spiel.” Your eye twitched and Itadori knew exactly what you were about to do, “Good luck.” 
The other members could see it all over your face, and didn’t try to stop you as you practically stormed up to his office. They knew only you would get away with stunts like this, outwardly and inappropriately showing your anger and or frustration over a decision that’s already been made. You didn’t even bother knocking, just opening the door to a quiet Nanami penning away in his notebook at his desk. “So was it a lie?,” you said curtly, letting the heavy door shut behind you.
“I was expecting you. What are you talking about?”, he spoke up, glancing up at you before returning his eyes to his work. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” “Is this about the mission?”, he asked, finally giving you his full attention. “Is this about the mission? Of course it is! ‘You’re one of my best’? Was it a lie?” “Why would I lie about something like that?”, he asked calmly. “Well, obviously I’m not because you’re sending Itadori and Takuma! I’m just as good if not better for the job!” Nanami sat back in his large leather chair, fixing his glasses. “Just because I’m not sending you doesn’t mean you’re not equipped for the job.” “So why?!” “Don’t yell.” You didn’t even have time to register who exactly you were talking to and kept going, genuinely hurt by his seeming oversight of your abilities after all this time. “No! I want to know why I won’t be there!”
Nanami grew quiet, just watching you. Why did he not send you? You were an easy choice. Reliable, capable, strong. He trusted you more than some of the other people under his wing. It should’ve been a ‘home run’ so to speak. But, something in his chest stirred when he thought about you facing off an entire organization basically on your own. You weren’t quite ready yet. It felt…wrong to send you. “Because both Itadori and Takuma are a bit more experienced.” “Bullshit.” “Excuse me?” “Did I stutter?! Bull! I don’t care if they are! I’ve worked my ass off! I deserve this! Stop lying to me. Do you think I’m too weak? Is that it? Is it because I’m a woman?! You think I just belong back at the office?!” You knew that didn’t make any sense. Gender never mattered to Nanami, but you were just so angry you wanted to, as bad as it sounded, blame him for something.
Those words made Nanami’s brow furrow. He was getting quite irritated. “You deserve it? Please tell me how exactly you do when you’re in here throwing a fit like a child. And don’t you dare imply such a disgustingly sexist and absurd thing. Not only are you disrespecting me but yourself as well. You aren’t going. That’s my final say on the matter.” You felt more and more of your emotions swirling inside of you, manifesting itself as heat in your face and fingertips. “What’s the matter with you?! You compliment me and give me extra attention and training and tell me I’m one of the best but you don’t send me on one of the most important jobs since I’ve been here?!” You raise your arms in defeat, fighting not to get teary-eyed. 
“Yes! That’s exactly what’s happening!”, he raised his voice back, fed up with your attitude and how you spewed baseless accusations at him. The tone was deep and almost guttural, and it made your eyes widen in surprise and your body jump, startled at the outburst. He never got like this. Nanami couldn’t comprehend why you were so upset. He was just trying to make sure that you didn’t overextend yourself. That was the only reason. Right?…Right? 
You grew quiet, eyes and body relaxing before biting your lip, your eyes growing cloudy despite your efforts. “You know what? Fine. You don’t want me to go? I won’t,” Nanami wanted to apologize for raising his voice, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. You began to turn around to walk out before turning your head to look at him. “Anything else I should be informed of before I leave, Kento?” Nanami clenched his jaw slightly. You were one of the few people who knew his name. The other members would just call him “Leader” or “Boss”, much to his dismay. Nevertheless, you never used it until now. “You’re dismissed.” He watched you stomp off, putting his head in his hands as soon as the door to his office closed behind you. 
The day of the mission was nigh, and per the meeting, you knew when your coworkers would head out and where to meet. “Screw Nanami. I’ll fucking show him,” you mumble to yourself, getting dressed in all-black attire to carry out the mission without his permission. You prepped as much as you could, and when you arrived at the rendezvous point in the dead of night, both Itadori and Takuma recognized you immediately. 
“Uhh, what are you doing here?!,” Takuma whisper-yelled frantically. “I told you she’d show up,” Itadori mused, a quiet laugh slipping past his lips, “I don’t know why she wasn’t put on the mission in the first place.” “How’d you even know it was me?”, you asked, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. “Because you’re the only one stupid enough to defy Nanami like this,” Takuma stated matter of factly, “And who cares if she’s just as capable, she wasn’t chosen,” he said to Itadori. The pink-haired boy just shrugged, “I’m sure we could use the extra help. I mean, sure Nanamin wouldn’t be necessarily happy about it but we’d get the job done.” Takuma just groaned in disapproval, “Whatever. I don’t approve of this but I can’t stop you.” You gave both of them a cheeky smile, “You’re right. You can’t.” 
Some part of you wished he had stopped you. The mission was successful but at the cost of heavy bodily injuries. Takuma got the worst of it, and you were right behind him. Somehow, though, Itadori came out mostly unscathed, with only a few bruises littering his body. He was always kinda freaky like that, like a walking superhuman. You, on the other hand, had various wounds ranging from stabs, to dark purple and yellow bruises, and your back was littered with scratches from a glass window pane you were kicked through. You wore the injuries proudly though, musing that they were your badge for succeeding. The other members couldn’t help breaking into whispers the moment you 3 returned to Headquarters, no doubt talking about you. You didn’t have the fucks to give though, and you proceeded up to Nanami’s office with head held high. 
The moment Nanami saw you with Itadori and Takuma, he was fuming. It was exactly why he didn’t want you to go in the first place. You were hurt badly and it made him rethink his… feelings toward you because the way his chest felt seeing you that way didn’t feel normal. “Itadori, Takuma,” his eyes landed on you next, taking in your state. “All three of you-,” he was interrupted by Takuma, “Sir, I told them I didn’t approve but-,” It was Nanami’s turn to interrupt him. “I care not about the details of who went. How did the mission fair?” “Went off without a hitch!”, Itadori smiled, “More people resisted than we initially thought though. Took a lot for them to actually get scared.” Nanami hummed, “And the envelope?”
“I delivered it,” you piped up, “It’s with their boss safe and sound. The materials are also back in our possession as well.” “Is that so? Good. Well, as per usual, based on your condition you shall all take a short break from the field. Itadori, you should only need a week or so, right?” Itadori nodded, “Yeah Nanamin! I’ll be all good.” “I thought I said stop calling me that.” “Aw, but it’s a really good nickna-.” “Whatever,” Nanami gives up. They have that conversation every other day and it always goes nowhere anyway. “Takuma, 2 weeks for you. There’s nothing broken, right?” Takuma shook his head. “Just lots and lots of bruising, heh,” he lifted his hand to scratch the back of his head but winced as he did so. 
Nanami returned his hard gaze to you. “I want you on a month's hiatus.” “But-” “No arguing. You have deep stab wounds that need stitching and proper healing. I just know you’ll do nothing but go back to training if you return here. A month at the least.” You couldn’t even fight back, he was right. The wounds were fighting to close, hot and throbbing. “The nurse downstairs will tend to all of you. Go home after, get some rest,” he stood, looking at all of you, “Good job for a successful mission despite some changes in the moment. I’m glad you’re all alright. You’re dismissed.”
After Itadori and Takuma left, you expected to be called back, but Nanami just sat back down at his mahogany desk, continuing to work. “No reprimand?,” you asked in the quiet of the room. He glanced up at you, “Not at this time. Your recovery is more important. You’ll receive some corrective action when you return. I’ll see you at the company in the meantime.” That was unlike him, but you supposed he already felt bad for the argument the both of you had earlier. “Not kicking me out are you?” “Not in the slightest. You just need some… readjustment for your behavior.” “Sure thing, Sir. Goodnight.” “Goodnight. And I’m not lying when I say that I am glad you’re alright.” The statement made you smile a bit. “Yeah.” 
The next month went by fairly quickly, although you weren’t going to Syndicate Headquarters every night. You almost enjoyed the break from the constant fighting, and ended up taking a bit more extra time. You still saw Nanami every day at your day job. The clothes you wore covered most bandages, and you explained the visible ones away as just plain, clumsy behavior. Your wounds healed nicely and at a rate you didn’t expect. Only one stab wound needed stitches. You’d surely have scars but that didn’t bother you. They were merely proof that you were alive. So, when you were back at the Syndicate after almost 2 months, you were welcomed with open arms, literally. They all dog-piled onto you like you’d been gone for years, saying that they’d missed you and your presence around the place. You smiled and laughed with them, once again incredibly grateful for such a large group of people who loved you unconditionally. “Oh! Nanamin said he wanted to welcome you back. He’s in his office,” Itadori informed you. “Okay,” you nodded, promising you’d be back as you made your way toward your leader’s door. 
“You asked for me?”, you piped up as you opened it, letting it close behind you. Nanami was standing, both hands leaning back on his desk. “Lock it.” “Huh?” “Lock the door.” Your heart started beating a little faster just then. “Why?” “I just don’t want to be interrupted.” “O-kay?”, you spoke slowly, following his directions. “Welcome back.” He took off his glasses, running his hand through his blonde hair before setting them aside. Sometimes you forgot that he didn't actually need them to see. He then asked, “How are your wounds?” “Glad to be back,” you smiled, “They’re way better. That extra time I took sped up the healing process..” What was he up to? He looked… different somehow. Oh, how you had no idea. “That’s good. There are 3 things I’d like to inform you of…,” he trailed off, his eyes intense. “First, I am sorry for yelling at you.” You looked down at the floor, “I’m sorry for yelling as well… and accusing you.” “I now know why I was so adamant on keeping you from the mission,” he continued, letting his hands softly move him off of the desk and toward you, “And that brings me to number two.” He used one hand to slowly lift your chin, and the action surprised you. Your eyes widened slightly, and you swore you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. “It was more than your skill set, or even keeping you from overextending yourself.” His voice was silky smooth, deep in all the right ways as he spoke to you. “It was because I wanted to keep you from harm's way. I didn’t want to see you in pain or with so many injuries. Because in reality…,” he’d been slowly walking you back, yet you didn’t notice and were surprised when your back hit a solid wall. 
His face moved past yours and dipped down for his mouth to reach your ear, the tips of them hot much like the rest of your body. “I’ve always wanted you,” he whispered. “Every part of you. At first, I thought it may be just the way I admire your tenacity. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought. You work hard, all for me, don’t you?” You didn’t even register that a question was asked, mouth dry and mind foggy from the kindling of fire in your lower regions. Your breath rose and fell steadily but deeply, your breasts almost rubbing against him with each inhale. “I,” you started, “I, yeah. I do.” “Exactly. And then I thought: ‘How did I not notice?’ Whether you’re at the company, making sure you wear a low-cut shirt so the tops of your breasts are flashing me while you read off your report to me, or when you wear tight pants to incite me to look at your curves at the Headquarters, you’re always seeking my attention. And more importantly, you’re seeking my praise. Am I wrong?”
He was reading you like a book now, and even though it took him an eternity, you still didn’t expect to feel so exposed in the moment. He pulled his head back a bit to re-establish the heady eye contact. You tried to be coy. “I mean, not necessarily,” you managed to breathe out. “You really are bad at lying, you know? The extra training, the almost excessive reporting, taking on extra work, asking me repeatedly, ‘How’d I do?’ The look on your face when I compliment you is filled with warmth and something else. But I can probably infer what that is.” 
Being pinned against the wall was the least of your worries, as your clit throbbed against your panties, hands at your sides and Nanami kept you caged in like a predator closing in on his prey. “And the third thing?”, your voice trembled. “Ah, the third thing. Do you recall what I said before you left my office 2 months ago?” “Something about readjusting my behavior?”, you breathed, beginning to put the pieces together. “That’s right. Good girl.” The shiver that ran down your spine shouldn’t have been that intense, and it made you squirm against him. “Now, is this what you want?” His question was serious, not laced with arousal but genuine. “Maybe,” you said slightly playfully. “A terrible liar as always,” he said quietly, leaning down to kiss you. Your lips slotted together slowly yet intensely, and it was everything you’d been waiting for. His large hands made their way to your waist, squeezing you softly as you moaned into his mouth. He let you indulge because this would be the last time you would for a while. Your arms made their way up to his broad shoulders, wrapping around them while he nipped at your bottom lip. 
Your body screamed, begged for more, the heat in between your legs growing in intensity. After what felt like an eternity of teasing bites, small prods of tongues, and little sounds being consumed by Nanami’s lips, he pulled back. You just about whined and Nanami couldn’t help a small smirk. “I’m sure you’ll live. You waited this long, right? Don’t forget,” he squeezed your hips a bit more, “This is a punishment. You directly disobeyed my orders. So now I have to take my time and break you down piece by piece, and put you back together again.” “Heh,” you let out a breathy laugh, “Is that what you intend to do?” “Oh, darling, it’s what I’m going to do.” 
You had to be dreaming, but the way your breath hitched and your pussy ached had to be real. His hands moved upward, trailing the sides of your abdomen and then shifting to take the hem of your shirt and lift it up. You let the shirt slide over your head, watching as he tossed it aside. You took no time in taking off your shoes, Nanami leaning down to kiss you again as he kneaded your tits through your bra as you worked on your pants. Now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he is going to indulge in every facet of your body. As soon as your pants were discarded you were left in your matching bra and panty set. He pulled back. “I want you bent over my desk, with your hands resting on your back.” You nodded a bit, “O-Okay,” you said breathily as your body began moving towards the desk. His words stopped you in your tracks. “Okay, what?” “Okay, Sir,” you corrected yourself, and you swore your pussy got wetter. “That’s better. Good girl.” 
He watched you get into position, and when you were, he took a moment to admire your body, how small it was compared to him. It made his dick throb a bit in his pants. In just a few minutes you’d be putty in his hands, moaning and writhing all for him. It really did take him too long to get here. You heard the sound of clothes rustling and then what you immediately recognized to be his tie tying your wrists together. The desk was cold against your skin, sending goosebumps along every inch of it. “Isn’t that your favorite tie?”, you asked playfully. He only reserved his tan suit and speckled tie for special occasions. “It is. Why wouldn’t I wear it on a day when I train a brat on how to behave?”, he asked, finishing the knot and following up his question with a smack against your ass. 
“Ah!,” you yelped in surprise, squirming against the desk. “Not too loud now,” Nanami mused, “You wouldn’t want the rest of the Syndicate to know how much of a disobedient brat you are, would you?” Slap. “A-Ah! No!” “No, what?” Slap. “N-No, Sir!” “Good, good.” He rubbed his hand against your now slightly red cheeks, the touch soft despite his calloused hands. “This is long overdue, you know? How many times have you disobeyed me? Ignored my instructions because you felt like you could do it better your way? Even at the company, trying to undermine my authority.” Slap. “F-Fuck,” you moaned, fighting back the instinct to get loud. “It really is a pity, darling, that I had to resort to such,” slap, “physical means of getting through to you.” Your ass was on fire and you jumped a little every time Nanami’s hand came down on your cheeks. You wanted to squirm away but it felt so good. At this point, your panties were soaked with your wetness, a visible spot on them. 
Nanami watched while you squirmed and shifted on the desk, your ass jiggling with every sharp movement. You were nearly on your tippy toes, and he could tell you were enjoying yourself. “Now, how many times do you think I should bring my hand down on this ass of yours?”, he asked. You heard him shift and then felt fingers tugging at the hem of your panties. They were pulled down slowly, your bare ass now on display. A wet string of slick connected you to your panties until it broke, the clothing item now at your feet. “I-I don’t know,” you whined, the cold of the room hitting your core. “You don’t? Want to take a guess, darling?” Nanami reached a hand to your pussy, lightly running two large fingers against your folds. You gasped and moaned, hips moving back against the touch. “You won’t get what you want until you give me a number.” Your forehead was up against the mahogany wood, breath escaping as mild panting, heating up your face more in the process while he persistently teased your pussy. “T-Ten,” you finally spoke up. 
“Only ten? Do you really think a brat like you only deserves ten?” Nanami did a few quick circles on your clit. “Fuck, N-Nanami, I don’t know, please.” “Hm? Please what? You still haven’t honored my request yet.” He pulled his fingers back. “Okay! O-kay. Twenty?” “Twenty sounds fair enough for all the trouble you’ve put me through. Good girl.” Slap. “That’s one.” “Shit!” Nanami used his other hand to continue to rub your clit at a painstakingly slow pace, occasionally dipping the tip of his digits into your entrance. Slap. “Mmfm!,” you moaned, biting your lip to hold in your sounds. With every slap came the delicious feeling of focusing on his fingers, but the combination of pleasure and pain left you dizzy. “You’re enjoying yourself aren’t you, darling?” Slap. “Does this feel good? Me punishing you for being a bad little brat?” Slap. “Your greedy pussy is dripping for me.” Slap. “G-God, yes it feels good!”, you answered obediently and he rewarded you, sheathing the full length of both fingers inside of you. “You look so gorgeous tied up like this.” Slap. “I should punish you more often, shouldn’t I?” Slap. You were drowning in pleasure rutting back against his fingers and eating the satisfying sting of his palm against your ass. Although the pace was slow, the knot in your lower abdomen began to build, your orgasm creeping toward you like a thief in the night. By the last slap you were whining and whimpering, Nanami’s fingers still working inside of you. 
“Would you like to cum, darling?”, he drawled, the sound of his fingers entering and exiting your hot, wet slit filling the room. “Y-yes! Please!”, you beg without much fight, cloud nine so close but so far. Nanami kept going, speeding up his fingers until he felt your legs tremble and your breath become uneven. You were just about to tip over the edge and then…nothing. The loud whine that you let escape your mouth didn’t even sound like you to your ears, and Nanami took both hands and squeezed your thoroughly reddened ass cheeks, your arousal still on his fingers. “It seems that you’ve forgotten that this was a punishment, darling. You don't quite get what you want yet.” “Nanami,” you whined again, hips moving back in search of something, anything to cure the ache in between your legs. “You really are an impatient little thing aren’t you?” 
Nanami helped you get to your feet and guided you to the other side of his desk. He sat in his chair. “Kneel for me,” he spoke up, and you followed directions swiftly. He made sure that you didn’t lose your balance. You watched as he unfastened his belt, and you felt a sliver of shame as your mouth began to water. He unbuttoned his pants and then looked at you. “Use your teeth.” “Yes, Sir,” you almost moaned, leaning your upper body forward to get into position. You let your teeth grab ahold of his zipper, following a command of, “Look at me,” as you pulled it down slowly. Nanami let out a small sigh and assisted you in pulling his throbbing dick out of his pants. It bounced out of his briefs, his tip sticky with his pre. “Show me you’re a good girl,” he spoke up, using a hand to softly caress your jaw and trailing it up into your hair. 
You leaned into the touch, letting out a soft, “Yes, Sir,” as you let your head descend and your mouth wraps around the tip of his cock. It was thick, and you moaned at the taste of his pre cum. Looking up at him, you began to slowly bob your head, coating his length in your saliva. He groaned, letting his head rest against his chair as he watched you intently. “That’s a good girl. There we go, just like that,” he praised, making your already swollen clit almost hurt from the arousal. You lifted your head off of his dick, licking from his balls to the tip repeatedly to trace the pulsating veins that ran up it. Your head went back down onto him again, taking him in more and more with each movement. His hand guided you through it all, your sticky spit running down his dick and onto his balls. You began to wonder if you could really handle not cumming for this long, your pussy hot and needy. You tried to sneak your other hand down to your clit and the grip he had on your hair tightened. “Where’s that hand going, darling? Did I say you could touch yourself?”, he asked, pulling your head up and off of him. 
Your spit ran down your chin. “N-No.” “Right, I didn’t say that, did I? So why is your hand trying to play with your bratty little pussy?” You moved your hand. “I-I’m sor-” The moment you did he pushed your head back down onto his cock, moving it up and down forcefully. “And here I thought you learned your lesson,” he grunted, moaning at your hot mouth, “But I guess brats never really learn do they? Have you got anything to say? Hm?” You struggled to produce the words ‘I’m sorry’ as his dick moved in and out of your mouth and throat, the sounds coming out garbled and riddled with wet, sloppy sounds. “Yeah? Are you sure?”, Nanami asked, his brow furrowing from the pleasure. You attempted to say yes, but gave up entirely, letting him use your mouth. He pulled your head off when he was close, dick pulsating as he denied himself sweet release. You coughed and sputtered a bit, eyes watery from the forcefulness of it all. Nanami leaned down and pulled your head up, kissing you hard enough to take the little wind left you had out of your lungs. 
You gasped as he suddenly stood, picked you up, and put you on the desk, but ass up face down. He sat back down in his chair, your wet pussy right in front of his mouth. “Is this what you want?”, he spoke right against it and you moved your ass back so much you almost fell. He held your ass and hips. “Please, Kento, please,” you begged, a whining mess with your cheek up against the wood. “I want it, I want it.” Nanami didn’t leave you hanging, instantly starting to suck on your clit. “Oh god f-fuck!” His mouth sucked and licked at your slit, taking in the taste of your arousal with a low groan. He hummed, letting the vibrations give you a bit of extra sensation. Your hips rocked and shook, and he held you tight, not allowing you an inch of movement as he ate you out like it was the last thing he’d ever do. “Kento! Oh god, Kento fuck!-” “So vocal for me. Although I don’t expect anything else from a brat like you who can’t keep her mouth shut otherwise.” He let his long tongue dip inside of you, pushing your hips back and forth to tongue fuck you. His thumbs spread your ass cheeks apart, opening up your pussy for him. 
You were so sensitive you were shaking. Your tits were rubbing against the desk, nipples hard from the teasing stimulation. Your pussy clenched around his tongue and once again you felt your orgasm creep up on you while Nanami licked you. He sucked on your clit repeatedly, letting it go with a small pop sound over and over again, switching between that and using his tongue to soak your slit in his spit. “Shit- shit, fuck,” you panted, brows knitted tightly on your face as your eyes shut. Nanami knew you were close, could see it in the way your legs trembled and your moans broke up into gibberish. “Going to cum, darling? Hm?” “Yes! Pl-please! Kento! Let me cum!” Nanami kept licking and sucking and like clockwork, as soon as the precipice was before you, you were yanked back. It almost made you want to cry. “Kento cut it out, please! I’ll be good, I p-promise! I-”
Your sentence was interrupted by Nanami adjusting you and pulling your legs back down so your toes touched the floor again. He stood up and started to press himself into you, his cock stretching you out in a way you didn’t think was possible. You were so close to finishing the feeling of him sheathing himself inside of you made you cum. “F-fuck! Oh fuck!” You moaned and writhed and Nanami growled behind you, starting to slowly piston his dick inside of your pussy. His hands traveled up to his dress shirt, unbuttoning it and tossing it aside while he fucked you. “You said you wanted to cum, right? Isn’t that what you wanted, darling?,” he breathed. Being edged made you 10 times more sensitive, and all you could do was moan and hiccup from the way your pussy convulsed around his length. “I’m giving you what this pussy wants.” Nanami couldn’t help himself, watching as your ass moved with every thrust into your pussy. All you could do was take it, Nanami’s hands preventing you from running. 
The room was filled with the sounds of sin: the slapping of skin, your desperate moans, and Nanami’s growls and grunts. He began to move faster, and you could feel his tip hit your cervix in the best way with every single thrust. “K-Kento! F-f-fuck!” “Is this all you wanted, darling? You being punished and fucked like the brat you are?” You nodded weakly, too enraptured by the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you. You began to shake again and Nanami slapped your ass. “Go ahead, I know you want to. You’ve been begging for it all night. Cum.” Your body responded immediately and your orgasm slapped you in the face. Your hips couldn’t buck from his strong grip but the rest of you did, squirming on the desk while you coated his dick in white.  
Nanami didn’t give you a chance to rest, pulling out and quickly picking you up. He slid back in as he carried you over to a small sofa on the other side of his office. He bounced you up and down like you were a rag doll as he walked, kissing you feverishly and swallowing your moans until he laid your back down onto the cushions. Grabbing your legs, he put them over his shoulders, starting to thrust into your pussy again. The change in position left your head spinning, and deeper angle made your moans increase in pitch and volume. “Keep these pretty legs up here while I fuck you into submission,” Nanami growled, holding them as he pounded you. “G-od shit! Fuck! Y-yes, yes, y-yes Sir!” “Now look at that, she’s learning,” he smirked a little, letting your legs rest against his shoulders and leaning down to kiss you more. Your knees were damn near touching his ears and you couldn’t get enough. His hands tried to reach under your back to unclasp your bra, but he got impatient, instead ripping it through the middle and taking a tit into his hand to knead while he fucked and kissed you. 
Moans poured into Nanami’s mouth and he drank them like the sweetest wine he’d ever tasted. His dick started to hit your g-spot, and you couldn’t control the way you grew even louder. He was relentless against the sensitive area, and you started to whine. “I-I’m gonna! G-gonna c-cum!” That was the only warning you gave him as your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock rhythmically. “Oh? Is my good girl that sensitive?” Nanami reached his hand down from your breast to your clit and you started to squirm harder. He had you pinned with nowhere to go as you tried to handle the overstimulation. “T-too much! Please Kento!” “Too much? But I thought you wanted to cum?” He asked, voice breathy but still deep against your lips. He rubbed and fingers faster and harder and sped up his thrusting, and you felt like you could explode. His cock was covered in your cum. But he wanted more. He wanted to show you he could deny you, but he could also make you overindulge. “Give me another one. Now. Now brat, cum again.” 
Your body seemed to be running on autopilot, listening to his command the moment it left his lips. The intense pleasure made your eyes well up with tears and Nanami praised you over and over again. “Good, good girl, there we go, that’s what I wanted,” he moaned as he continued to thrust. He moved his hand and picked you up again all without pulling out once more. When he got to a wall, however, he did put you down, his dick slipping out of you as your weak legs held you up in front of him. “Against the wall.” “K-Kento I don’t think I can sta-” “I won’t let you fall. Hands against the wall, darling.” You turned around, putting your palms against the wall and jutting your ass out. Nanami took one hand and held your hip, easing himself back into you with a moan. He took the other and ran it up your neck, grabbing your hair almost from the scalp and pulling your head back as he began his fervent pace once more. You couldn’t hold back your moans, and your legs wanted to give out. He wrapped his arm around you to keep you steady. 
“That’s right. I’ve got you. All you have to do is fucking take it,” he groaned into your ear. “Y-ah! Yes Sir! K-Kento oh fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!” You were trying your hardest, but your words descended into gibberish and half-spoken curses. Nanami was beginning to lose his patience, his dick throbbing angrily inside of you from holding back his orgasm. But he needed one more out of you. He wanted to leave you shaking with ecstasy. “Take it, take it, take it,” he growled with each thrust, your mouth open as you began to slightly drool, hot, salty tears running down your face. The both of you were covered in sweat, and it just made the slapping sounds of his balls hitting your slit even louder. “This is your punishment,” he moaned, “Are you going to disobey me again?” “N-No!” He moved forward slightly so his mouth was right up against your ear. “Are you going to be a fucking brat or are you going to be my good girl?” 
Your vision was getting hazy. His dick was fucking you into oblivion and you gladly wanted to let it. “Answer me,” he growled, yanking your hair a bit harder. “Ah! G-good! I’ll b-be good Kento!” “Say it,” he panted, starting to feel himself get closer to release. “I-I’m a good g-girl!” “Again.” “G-god- fuck Kento pl-please!” “I said again!” “I’m a good g-girl! I’m y-your good girl K-Kento! Fuck I’m gonna c-cum please l-let me cum!” “Do it, darling. Cum for me.” The both of you came at the same time, and he held you as much as he could as he let his cum pour into you. “F-Fuck!”, he moaned loudly while his hand holding your hair moved to cover your mouth, knowing your screams would be extra loud. They were mixed with cries, the overstimulation leaving you weak. Your hips convulsed and he growled into your ear as it filled you up, his thrusts slowing down as the both of you rode it out. 
He gently pulled out of your spent pussy, keeping you upright as he finally untied your wrists. Tossing the garment away, he picked you up and held you close to his chest as he sat down on the sofa. You laid your head in the crook of his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist. “You did so well,” he whispered, stroking your back. The air grew silent then and you both basked in the afterglow of everything. The both of you cuddled for what felt like hours, eyes closed and heartbeats steady. “I really…am sorry,” you piped up, voice a low whisper. “Hm? Are you talking about the mission?” “Yes. I should’ve listened to you. I wasn’t quite ready yet.” “It’s alright. What matters is that you came back safe and sound,” he murmured, absently feeling a scar that ran up your back from the incident. The both of you grew silent once more, letting each other feel and touch each other's skin intimately in the process. “I can’t believe it really took you this long to figure it out.” “…I’m not sure how that information is relevant to the situation.” “Now look at who’s being a bad liar.” 
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pumped this one out in two days, it was super fun to write. hope you enjoyed it! <3 -leyley
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vin-taege · 1 year
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Sore Loser (m)
Summary: The game of "put a finger down" ended differently than you expected—not that you were complaining.
Genre: smut, porn with slight plot??
Pairing: bratty!reader x chishiya
Words: 2.9k
Warnings: blowjobs, throatfucking, cunnilingus, light degradation (chishiya calls you names but affectionately), rough sex, semi-clothed sex, protected sex (stay safe!), fingering, spanking
Note: This is the second smuttier part to fair game !
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"That's rich coming from you."
Chishiya's voice was muffled, his mouth latching onto your breasts like a man starved. He'd managed to get your shirt off despite your neediness for his tongue on your skin. He tasted too good to pull away from.
You groaned, head pressing against the throw pillows of the couch. Pulling at his hair, you pressed him closer to your body, his hot breath leaving you soaked. Simultaneously, his hands were yanking your shorts down alongside your panties.
"Fuck you, loser," you managed to say breathily. A small smirk played on your lips—pushing his buttons seems like fun for now. It was only fair after the way he teased you during the game.
Without warning, Chishiya pressed a nipple in between his teeth, grinding it slowly on the sharp enamel. You screamed out, immediately getting a slap on your outer thigh after.
He pinched and rolled at the neglected bud, digging his nails on purpose until you hissed. When both your nipples were burning from soreness, he diverted his attention to your neck. 
Licking a stripe from the base up to the bottom of your ear, he kissed and bit, littering purple marks all over. He found a particular spot that made you gasp louder, deciding to abuse it.
You whimpered under his harsh marking. He hadn't even touched your clit yet, but you knew there'd be a big wet spot on your panties by now. You rubbed your thighs together, seeking the tiniest bit of friction for some sense of relief. But Chishiya caught on quickly.
Halting his actions, he firmly grabbed both your thighs, holding your legs open. "You think I'm letting you off that easily? After hearing you bitch about fair play and act like a brat?"
He pulled your waist up until you were on your feet, turning you so that you faced the couch. You planted your arms on the cushion, arching your back for him. You had an inkling as to what he was planning-and honestly, you had hoped for it.
The way his palm connected with your ass left you gasping for breath. You jolted forward, your face almost colliding with the sofa backrest. Right after, you felt his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. 
"Whiny slut," he hit the other cheek. "We both know I won."
The barrage of spanking didn't wear down, each slap harder than the other. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, Chishiya only getting harder at the sight of you so broken so quickly. Tears cascaded down your face, thighs shaking from how much your ass stung. When he finally relented, he pressed his clothed cock against you. The rough fabric of his shorts grinding against your tender flesh made you scream out. He reached over, taking the opportunity to hook to fingers into your open mouth. He pulled back, forcing your head to tilt upwards.
"'M sorry, 'm sorry!" you sobbed. "I'll be good, please."
The blond snorted, letting go of your mouth and stilling his hips. You whined pathetically—it hurt so much but you wanted him to keep going. You needed him to touch you.
As if reading your mind, Chishiya planted his fingers underneath your jaw, grabbing your neck from behind. His free hand brushed over your soaked folds, leaving the lightest of contact on your clit. "How are you going to be good hm? You gonna offer me something worthwhile?"
Despite his tight grip on your throat, you nodded frantically. You tried to grind back on his fingers, but every time you did, he'd immediately withdraw them. You pouted, voice desperate.
"I'll do anything you want."
"Anything?" Chishiya hummed, feigning surprise. "That's a generous offer."
He dipped a finger shallowly in you, scooping a portion of your wetness and spreading it over your clit. You moaned, biting your lip. You wanted more, but you knew he'd stop if you got too greedy.
He pressed his finger more forcefully over your bundle of nerves. "I've always wanted to fuck that loud mouth of yours. Gonna shut you up real good with my cock."
Without his prompting, you quickly kneeled on the floor in front of him. Your legs shook with each movement, both from the rawness of your ass and the desperation in your clit. You gushed harder when you realized you were naked in such a vulnerable position, while Chishiya towered over you still fully clothed.
He smirked at your compliance, turning your chin slightly from side to side. "You look so pretty like this."
You hung your mouth open, eager to take him. He pulled his shorts and briefs down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. You held your breath at the sight—it was long and thick, a pretty vein wrapping around leading up to the red tip. Chishiya chuckled at your awestruck expression, grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing you closer. “Go ahead. Show me what you’ll do for me.”
Licking your lips, you took one last glance at his cock before meeting his eyes. You kissed the tip, brushing your tongue up and down his slit to lap up the pre-cum. He let out a sigh of approval, steadying himself by holding your hair—gentle caresses in contrast to his harsh words. He bucked his hips when he finally felt your lips wrap around him.
You sucked your cheeks in, struggling to accommodate his size. You placed a hand on the base, opting to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit instead. Tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, you started bobbing your head, saliva pooling in your mouth as you sucked him off. He wasn’t vocal but you knew he felt good through the way his breaths started to get heavy, or his fingers dug into your scalp more.
Slowly, you fell into a rhythm, managing to take him better. You twisted the hand holding his cock whenever you’d bury him in your mouth, using your other hand to trail down his thigh using your nails. During the whole process, you looked up at him with puppy eyes. He looked back with half-lidded eyes, the soft brown turning into almost pitch black. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, landing on the expanse of his exposed chest. Seeing him fall apart like this was something you’d never want to miss.
As you were pulling away, he held your head more firmly, roughly sinking his entire cock down your throat. You let out a muffled squeal, throat spasming around the sudden intrusion. Tears pricked at your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You lightly slapped his thigh, trying to signal for him to pull out. Surprisingly, he complied, but only until the tip was still in your mouth. He waited for you to compose yourself.
“Breathe through your nose. Tap me three times if you want to stop,” his voice softened although he maintained his firm grip. You nodded, taking a deep breath of air in preparation and planting your hands on his thighs.
Without wasting another moment, he snapped his hips towards you, fucking your mouth in a brutal pace. Though you struggled for stable breathing, the way he was using you made you drip even more. Your wetness was starting to slide down your thighs, and you wouldn’t be surprised if it had started to form a pool on the carpeted floor.
He groaned, feeling your throat tighten around him. You sneaked a hand down, fingers finding their way to your soaked cunt. You shuddered, giving yourself some relief when you rubbed tight circles on your clit. It took Chishiya a few more thrusts before noticing this, eyebrows furrowing in disapproval.
“Oh no you don’t.” 
Swiftly, he brought his hands back to the underside of your jaw, lifting your face up. All his wait was on the pads of his feet, hips flush against you until your nose was buried among the the trimmed hairs. You gagged, hands flying back to squeeze his thighs. He held you in place for a few more seconds before pulling out completely, a string of saliva connected from his tip to your lips.
You sputtered, hunching over and coughing. Drool was stuck to your chin and you were certain your hair was a mess. Chishiya towered over you, staring at you condescendingly.
“What made you think you can do that hm? Do you think that’s fair?” he mimicked your previous words. You didn’t answer, busy focusing on your breathing. He tsk’ed, lifting your head up by your hair. He took in your pathetic state, eyes glistening from the tears, cheeks sticky, and lips sore. “Do you think you deserve my cock after all that shit you’ve given me?”
You whimpered, biting your lip. You didn’t expect him to get this rough, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Much to his amusement, you shook your head softly. He let go of your hair, holding your cheek gently instead. He leaned into his touch, sighing at the comfort it gave you.
“I can be forgiving when I want to, ___.” He brushed his thumb over a drying tear trail. “Are you going to be a good girl now?” 
You eagerly nodded, voiceless from the abuse your throat took. 
He smirked. “On the bed.”
You got on wobbly knees, scampering towards the soft mattress and cold sheets—they’ll warm up soon enough. You propped yourself up on your elbows, thighs opened slightly as an invitation. Chishiya took his time striding up to you, hooking a finger under your chin and giving you a soft peck on the lips. He deepened the kiss, tongue slipping into your mouth. He placed both arms on your sides, stabling himself on the bed. You moved in synch, one hand on his bicep while the other was on the back of his neck.
Unzipping his hoodie, you tugged it off, Chishiya helping you until the sight of his bare upper body greeted you. You pouted, which he immediately took notice of.
“What’s wrong?” 
“I didn’t get to mark you,” you whined, eyes scanning the blank skin of his neck and collarbones. He chuckled lightly. 
“Cheer up,” he plainly replied, handing you his hoodie. You looked at it quizically, raising an eyebrow at him. “I want you to wear it while you cum.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, cheeks flush. You took the jacket from him, sliding one arm in and then the other. The fabric was soft and light—no wonder why he never took it off. It smelled like minty soap and flowery detergent, and of course, that underlying scent that was distinctly Chishiya’s. A mix similar to old books and strawberries.
He beamed at you in contentment. He leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on the space in between your breasts. Leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, he reached your crotch, licking his lips at the sight of your wet clit. “You made quite a mess here.”
He kissed your clit before running his tongue over it. You gasped, gripping the sheets tightly. He held your thigh open with one hand, making use of the other by inserting a finger in you. He lapped up your juices, the tip of his tongue teasing circled around your sensitive bud. At the same time, he easily slipped another finger in, curling both of them up and hitting your g-spot.
“Fuck!” you mewled. You grinded your hips against his tongue, feeling your orgasm quickly building up. Every part of your body felt so sensitive, mind going blank aside from the thought of wanting—needing—to cum.
Chishiya pulled his lips away for a moment but continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. He hummed, lost in thought. “Three fingers huh?”
“W-what are you…” you panted, gritting your teeth when he hit the spongy spot again.
“You put down three fingers,” he stated not feeling the need to elaborate, but you knew what he was thinking based on his stupid smirk. He prodded your entrance with his ring finger, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“W-wait, I don’t know if I can—fuck!” You arched your back upward, full from all three fingers inside you. Your shut your eyes, mouth open in a silent moan. You were treading the line of pain and pleasure, head fuzzy from how everything felt a little bit too much. Chishiya caught on quick, pausing to make sure you could regain your composure. He pressed sloppy kisses on your thighs and hips, muttering praises.
“We can stop if you want,” he sincerely offered. You shook your head. Still unable to form words, you gave him a thumbs-up.
He started off slow, waiting patiently until you’ve adjusted. Thankfully, you were wet enough for him to easily slide his fingers in and out. It was starting to feel good again, pleasure taking over the initial sting. You spread your legs wider, allowing him to see more of your glistening folds.
“You okay?”
You hummed in response, already feeling like you’ve been fucked dumb. Shakily, you nudged his head towards your pussy, urging his mouth onto your clit again. He rolled his eyes teasingly, but gave in to your request.
He latched his mouth onto your clit again, tongue doing wonders. You gushed around his fingers, thighs shaking from how sensitive you were getting. A coil was tightening in your stomach, ready to snap at any moment.
Chishiya used his free hand to hold your waist down. He pressed his tongue firmly against you, running it up and down as he abused your g-spot, precisely angling each thrust to hit it. It wasn’t long before he had you spilling at the seams.
“Cumming, cumming!” you moaned wantonly, throwing your head back. It’s like you were submerged underwater, legs spasming as you were hit wave after wave of your orgasm. Chishiya slowed down his ministrations, allowing you to ride it out. When you’ve settled, he pulled his fingers away, making a show of licking them clean. 
He crawled up, propping his elbows on either side of your head. You tried to fight the way your eyelids would fall, lips slightly open. Your hair was sprawled messily on the sheets, the hood of his jacket crumpling under your head. Chishiya embedded this in his mind, his eagerness only growing at your fucked out state. “___?”
“Hmm?” your eyes drifted back to him, looking slightly more focused now.
“Are you okay?” he pressed a light kiss on your neck.
“Mhhmm…” you hummed, hooking a leg over his waist.
“Are you sure?” Chishiya furrowed his eyebrows in worry.
“Fuck me,” you groaned, grinding upwards on his cock. You whispered, “Loser.”
“Brat,” Chishiya smirked, trying to conceal his relief. For a second there, he thought you would have passed out. Reaching towards the nightstand, he dug around one of the drawers until he found the packet he was looking for. Kuina had slipped this in his room once during one of her speeches—mainly about finally making a move on you. He didn’t think it would ever come to use, but hey, he was grateful for it. He aligned himself with your entrance. With one swift movement, he bottomed out. Groaning through gritted teeth, he threw his head back. Your cum and wetness lubed him up so well, your soft walls clamping tightly on his cock.
He was already pent up from when you blew him, and he knew he wasn’t going to last for long. He focused on finding your spot again, kissing it with the top of his cock over and over again. A string of curses left your lips, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, hot breaths on your skin. You could feel him tensing up.
“So good, Chishi,” you sobbed. “You fill me up so well.”
“Fuck,” he hissed. He straightened up, hooking your legs on his shoulders, thighs pressed on his torso. He wrapped his arms around your legs, using them as leverage. You squeezed around him, helping to draw his orgasm out. His hips stuttered, thrusts becoming sloppy. He couldn’t get enough of your warmth, carnal desire overtaking his mind. He could feel you getting closer as well, ripping your second orgasm out when pressed fast, tight circles on your clit.
The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with your moans echoed throughout the empty room, followed by a loud groan Chishiya could no longer hold back. His hips were flush against you, cock fully buried in your drenched pussy. Thick, white spurts filled the condom. Chishiya rode his orgasm out with shallow thrusts before stilling inside you. He huffed, trying to maintain his composure despite shaky breaths.
He gently laid your legs down, plopping himself next to you. Your chests rose up and down, slowly coming down from both your highs. You turned your head, facing him. His eyes were closed, stray hairs framing his face.
“I would have put four fingers down,” Chishiya mumbled, sensing your gaze on him. His words puzzled you, when you suddenly remembered Kuina’s last question—have you ever been in love?
“I love you too,” you rolled onto your side, gingerly taking the hand draped over his stomach. He froze for a second, locking his fingers with yours. “Loser.”
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ya-zz · 11 months
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I really want something a little bit silly with the very serious robut so I have a request, please hear me out
So Ramattra with a crush on a little human who is friends with Zenyatta and absolutely gets into shenanigans with him. Like they’re usually quiet and even timid but the moment Zen asks them to help him with a little prank or goofs and gaffs or a little bit of trolling they are in.
Mischievous is the word I’m looking for…
Also I love the way you write Rama so ty in general because (chef’s kiss🤌) ✨marvelous✨
Aaaa thank you! This was such a fun request to do!
Gotta add Zen into the gif for his participation in this~
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Ramattra x Reader (gen)
Word count: 1620
For a few months now, you and Zenyatta formed this bond, one full of playfulness and banter. You would go to him when you needed help and he was usually always there and he would always come to you when he was feeling mischievous - he had a new scheme each week. Of course, they were harmless pranks, never intended to hurt any omnic. Being the only human in the Monastery was challenging at times, so having Zenyatta there made it worthwhile. 
He brought you out of your shell for a moment or two, and you greatly appreciated that.
Just like any other day, Ramattra would wander the halls of the Monastery, the metallic feet of his tapping away as he walked, a schedule he rarely broke unless absolutely necessary. However, there had been a lot of noise recently, especially between another monk and a human. The other monks didn’t seem to mind, but it clearly irritated the ravager until he finally gave in and ignored the laughter altogether. 
Yet, despite all of the irritation, he would still listen, his circuits warming when he hears you laugh. If he could smile, he would - just the thought of you laughing brought him some comfort he hadn’t really felt for a long time. 
Ramattra never admitted it, but you had grown on him, more than any human had ever done in the past. The irritating days grew into a soft admiration in a matter of weeks, and with the help of his brother, those feelings only grew more. 
Now, today was no different - Ramattra went about his day, sitting outside and meditating in the spring time sun, the orb of his hovering above him, slowly spinning in rhythm of his ‘breathing’ as the breeze gently passed by. 
But that peace was disturbed when he heard two entities approaching. His head tilted, trying to pick out the footsteps. Only when he heard your laugh did he know who else was with you. 
“Ah, brother.” Zenyatta calls out, waving at Ramattra when he turns. “I do not suppose you could look after [y/n] for awhile? I have an errand to run.” 
Ramattra looks at you, noticing the hesitant smile. “Of course.” He cocks his head to the side, wanting to seem friendlier than what his appearance lets on. 
“Thank you. I will not be long.” Zenyatta gently taps your shoulder as he walks away. You smile gently at his touch before turning your attention to the larger monk as he turns back, facing forward to resume his meditation. 
You took a seat next to him, careful to leave enough space between the two of you, the grass beneath you feeling warm against your knees. The air around you was calm, sun shining warmly on your cheeks as you look out across the mountains. 
No words were said between the two of you, despite Ramattra wanting to talk. He glances down at you every so often, noticing the way your breathing softly and in rhythm to his orb. For once, he realises another purpose of it, to bring you comfort and peace, should you ever sit next to him again. In that moment, he was content with everything. 
He was that content that he never saw his sensors going off in the corner of his vision. His mind was too busy in thought, his guard was down… 
It was the perfect moment for Zenyatta to strike and you were just the distraction and the perfect one you were. Zenyatta knew, he knew quite a lot than what he let on. The way Ramattra looked at you was all he needed to fuel the next act of his play. 
Pulling a harmless prank on Ramattra was not something you had ever wanted to do. You knew who and what he was, what he had done before coming to the Monastery, but having Zenyatta with you only fuelled what little courage you had inside. You sat there, listening to the humming within Ramattra’s body, feeling the warmth on your cheeks before droplets of water rained down on the pair of you. 
“Rain was not on the forecast today.” Ramattra spoke out, head still facing the mountains in front. He raised his hand slowly, but no rain was landing on him. 
You look up, the sky still clear and blue. “Perhaps a sudden burst of rain?” You suggest, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 
“It has stopped.” He remarked. By the time he noticed the warning in his system, it was too late. A sudden splash of cold water hits him in the back, dripping down the metal framework. He lets out a surprised gasp, head tilting back slightly from the sudden cold. Ramattra stands and turns around, head cocking to the side as he speaks. “Brother. Do you think this is funny?”
Zenyatta lowers the water gun and you can tell he has a smug smile behind the expressionless faceplate of his. “Very. Did you think you were free from us?”
Ramattra turns to look at you as you let out a small laugh before standing up, brushing the dirt from your legs. 
“Sorry.” There was a light airy tone to your voice as you smiled, turning to face your partner in crime, a small nod of your head.
The smaller monk raises his weapon again, pointing it directly at Ramattra. 
“Don’t you dare.” Ramattra’s voice was low as he stared down Zenyatta. 
There was no hesitation as Zenyatta fired the water directly at his omnic brother but the water never hits him. Ramattra’s movements were quick as he grabbed your arm and pulled you in front of him. The yelp you gave out as the cold water hits you was all the satisfaction he needed, a smug feeling spreading throughout his body. Ramattra kept you in his grasp as he moves his optics on his brother. 
“I warned you.” He spoke out. “Look at what you have done.” A mockingly pity tone joined his voice. 
You inhale sharply as a breeze passes by, your shirt sticking to your skin as you look at Zenyatta, his head cocking to the side slighty as if to silently apologise. Ramattra’s hands never left your shoulders, keeping you in place, a shield for anymore attacks. 
Ramattra leans down to speak to you, head gently brushing your ear. “That is what you get for being his accomplice.” He chuckles, his proximity making your cheeks warm. “Getting my guard down was one thing, I’ll give you that.” He admits. “Whatever shall I do with you now?” You could hear the playfulness in his tone as you feel him squeeze your shoulders gently, still not removing them from your body.
“Zen-” You speak up.
“No, no, look at me.” Ramattra moved one of his hands, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, turning you to look at him. “He cannot help you now.” 
You glance over at Zenyatta who was just standing there, head cocked to the side, watching everything happen.
Ramattra’s circuits warmed up at the sight of you, so helpless, so… cute. 
“In fact…” He looks over at Zenyatta then back at you and the realisation hits you. 
“No- No, don’t you dare!” You look over at your friend who had already raised the water gun at you. “Zen, I swear to-” Before you could even finish, water splashes on your torse, the breeze only adding to cold. Ramattra holds you still, smaller droplets falling down his faceplate from the backsplash. 
Ramattra chuckles again as you struggle, a faint warmth spreading through his chassis. The feelings he felt for you only just grew more and more with your pleas. 
“Zen, stop!” You cry out, laughing as your legs give way, dropping your body to the floor. You keep laughing, leaning back against Ramattra’s legs as you try to catch your breath. Ramattra looks down at you on the ground, relishing in the moment of your laughter. He enjoys listening to your laugh, something of which he won’t admit just yet. He enjoys the change in your body language when you’re comfortable just as much as he enjoys the more timid side of you. Every part of you he adores more and more the longer he’s around you. The monks look at each other, nodding in silence, passing silent words to each other before Zenyatta lowers his weapon and slowly approaches you. 
Ramattra hooks his hands underneath your arms and pulls you up, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. 
“I am sorry, [y/n].” He speaks, standing in front of you.
“I will get you back for that.” You reply to him, subtly accepting his apology. 
Zenyatta chuckles at that before looking up at his brother. “Perhaps you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold.” 
“I wouldn’t have to if someone didn’t use me as a shield.” You turn and face Ramattra, wiping your cheek as a droplet of water falls down it. 
“My apologies.” He looks down at you, the smugness still coursing through his wires. “Come, my quarters are closer.” He offers his hand out to you, hoping you will accept and when you do, he feels his metal heart skip a beat, his servos warming up at the contact. He notices the blush on your cheeks, how you’ve become shy once more. Ramattra keeps his optics on you before turning and leading you back down the path towards the Monastery, hand still holding yours. He feels your heartbeat pick up, a silent sigh escaping him.
Zenyatta watches on and if he could smile at the sight before him, he would. His plan had worked, and he had you both to thank for that. 
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My Sydcarmy dream happy ending? Or Storer's?
This is the 1st time I actually envisioned a whole scene with music and all in my head. I always had the feeling that the end of the show is gonna be like the final scene of Braciole: All together, the found family, maybe at the restaurant, maybe not, and just having dinner and having a good time.
After that "vision" I had, I found out that Storer mentioned in a panel that food had always saved them as a family, he was talking about his own family. So I figured: OK so since the show he created, the whole Bear universe, revolves around food, that's gonna be the ending. I felt he kinda confirmed my "vision", my take, the one I had as soon as I finished watching S1. I could already see that ending and believe in it wholeheartedly. And it looked like that, but blurry, because it was just season 1, and even though I knew there was a S2 that I hadn't watched yet (watched it the next day, actually), the overthinker in me was already daydreaming about THE SHOW'S FINALE.
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OK, cut to me obsessing about this show after watching S2, that IMO was even better than S1, which is VERY RARE nowadays on TV, and then me re-watching both seasons and dissecting them till the cows go home and then re-watching S2 only over and over to analyze every single layer of Sydcarmy as humanly possible, and literally cutting my working hours to have more time to do that LMAO! etc. So, I ended up noticing the whole script structure Storer (and Calo) came up with, it's Austenian. And at that point, I was already a Sydcarmy soldier, of course, but when I picked up on the Austenticity of it all I FUCKING FLIPPED OUT because that gave me hope. It meant that the Sydcarmy endgame I had in mind could very well happen seeing as it was IC and Austenian, and it fit the slow burn process I had already picked up on right after watching Braciole, as I mentioned HERE. It all made total sense. How will it happen exactly, IDK, I wish I did but Storer is diabolical and way better than me at plot twists, so I won't even try to guess, but I will put my trust in the Austenian arc he swears by.
Me growing up reading Austen (real footage):
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For those who haven't read Jane Austen, her trademark is: taking something painful and making it beautiful, finding beauty in pain, and always building towards a happy ending and redemption arc for her main characters, unless she kills them first and if she does, we can be sure that death will serve the happy ending purpose anyway (AKA: Michael, Syd's mother and probably Cicero, I wanna believe Donna will live, but I'm on the fence about her, I do believe she will be redeemed after Nat's baby is born, either way), she will take that death and make it worthwhile and beautiful. She doesn't stand for unhappy endings, but she does include bittersweetness in the endgame of some of her characters, usually not the A ones, but the B ones. The Alphas usually get a relatively "clean happy ending". Relatively being the operative word and what we can ALWAYS expect no matter what, is a "teaching", a lesson learned by the main characters. They walk out of that story as new men/women after having learned that/those lesson/s. She does this. She slow burns romances left and right, kills characters off, takes losses and turns them into gains, and builds towards a happy ending. That's an Austenian structure right there. It's usually used in Romance movies, rarely seen on this kinda TV shows, but here we are. The Storer-Calo duo are giving us Austenian characters in a nutshell.
So, back to my point, I always had this take and wishful thinking even, but up until now, I was never able to actually envision a final scene that could be actually canonical. I mean, I could even fucking write the whole script of that whole final ep, line by line, for every character if they allowed me to. I have the music in mind, the outfits, the whole set, and the final take that faiths to black and reads THE END. And no, this is not just a wishful thinking list or prediction post, it's an actual argumentative outline about why I think The Bear’s series finale will look like the Happy version of Fishes:
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And just because Carmy said this, I will take a wild guess, this is gonna be part of the menu:
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He associated them with his, and I quote: "fucked up family life" end of quote. So he wanted to reversion them:
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And Marcus, based on Sydcarmy's pointers, came up with The Michael Cannoli:
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I am also assuming, Sydcarmy will be endgame because of the aforementioned reasons, but I'm not sure Storer will actually show it on camera, maybe just insinuate it, because we all know he is diabolical and also because that's how the original movie script turned into TV script ended before Storer knew The Bear was going to be picked up for a 2° season, he always had this ending in mind for The Bear, behold:
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So what I'm saying is: We Sydcarmy truthers have an actual shot here. I also dive into this theory HERE but from a totally different angle.
This happy Sydcarmy endgame we want is at arms' reach.
Now I see it more clearly.
Who's with me?
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@ciaonicole85 thanks for the inspo to write this post, it all came to mind when I saw yours.
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ladyloveandjustice · 10 months
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Spring 2023 Anime Overview-Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury Season 2
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In my review for season one of Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury, I praised the show for being a compelling sci-fi full or intrigue, centering a well developed queer romance between the robot-piloting protagonist and all around precious girl, Suletta Mercury, and her fierce fiancé, Miorine Rembran.
But having been burned by anime before, I said I would hold off on recommending the entire show until it finished, and crossed my fingers tight that season 2 wouldn’t drop the ball.
The great news is that I can now wholeheartedly recommend the show. The final season did not drop the ball. It remained a great watch, the romance and relationship development continued to be worthwhile and excellent, and it was consistent with the strengths of the first season. It wasn’t perfect, which I’ll get into, but it was very good. Whether you’re here for girls in love, robots wrecking each other, tense battles between opposing political factions, or morally-horrifying moms on a revenge spree, you’re in for a treat.
The shocking last moments of the first season have some great relationship fallout, and the series delves into how Suletta was truly brainwashed by her mother. Miorine’s struggles to come to terms with the bloody legacy she’s inherited and her relationship with Suletta can withstand such a thing. Suletta grapples with her mother’s deception and her own individuality. Both are compelling arcs that built upon the groundwork the first season laid and lead to some nice relationship drama.
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(Also, the credit sequence was awesome.)
The parallels between the two girls really pop this season as they both have to confront their mistakes, shoulder their sins, and see if they can move forward with the other. You really see how they mirror each other, and how they need each other. The romance ball isn’t dropped and becomes even more textually explicit, with Suletta explicitly stating she's into Miorine and no one else and eagerly anticipating the wedding, while Miorine also makes her intentions with Suletta very clear.
The second season is also a lot faster paced than the first, delivering tense and heartbreaking episodes one after another and leaving you on the edge of your seat. A lot of the conflicts that had been building from the first episode came to an explosive crescendo. Those bombs dropped and the carnage was wonderful. It was exciting, we saw more sides of the conflict, spent some time on earth, and got to see some unexpected depth in several characters. And yes, there were approximately a million more Utena references, some that made me laugh out loud.
However, this season wasn’t perfect. I was already having a little trouble following all the different factions and agendas in the first season, and this season exacerbated the problem. And while some characters got great roles, there were just so many. That meant a lot of them didn’t have any space to develop or even serve a clear purpose. There were a lot of characters I was excited to see do something, who the show built up as super ominous and meaningful and...then they did nothing. As funny as it is that several characters can be summed up as "s/he did fuck all the whole show and then bounced, king shit", it's also a letdown.
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And this season really threw into focus how many of the more distinctive supporting characters were barely explored. Suletta’s bond with Earth House was a major plot point, but we barely know anything about most of them so it doesn't hit as hard as it should. Even Chuchu, who was one of the more developed ones, felt under-served as fan favorite. For instance, there were several bits where she entered the battle and it was treated like a big deal…and we didn’t even get to see her fight, presumably because the show didn’t have time. And it was worse for other characters- I couldn’t even tell you the names of most of the girl squad working with Shaddiq. They all had such potential as characters, I wish we'd gotten more of them. Things that should be impactful the narrative, like Miorine's dad and the consequences to his actions and what it means for their relationship, were barely explored (not that I'm all that interested in him, but it was weird after the emphasis the first season put on it).
No major balls were dropped in the conflict between the Spacians and Earthians, but it also felt like it got lost in the shuffle at times and I felt like the show could have had a clearer ideology. The “war is bad” and “exploitative corporations are bad” came through loud and clear, but it felt like some threads could have been followed up on more.
In hindsight, I was also disappointed how much of the season Suletta and Miorine spent separated- some of that was plot relevant, but some of it was just clearly so they could learn exposition separately, and considering how important the relationship was to the show, it felt like a waste.
A good chunk of screentime was also waited Guel’s brother, Lauda. While Guel’s arc was solid and he’s the character who changed the most throughout the show, his brother and his tendency to blame any woman Guel was standing near for all their problems was not compelling (Nanami did it better). So it felt like there was a conflict involving him just to give Guel something to do during the fighting and tie a bow on things. Even the characters involved admitted what happened was kind of dumb, and I would have liked to see one of the more interesting unexplored characters get development instead.
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The finale was especially rushed, and while there were cool moments, I couldn’t really describe how the battle was fought, and even one of the characters in the show admits that certain plot developments don’t make sense. I also couldn’t tell you exactly how exactly the villain’s big plan worked, which is kind of important!
You just had to be like “oh okay, well, pretty lights, stuff happened, don’t know why that was a thing, that was the power of love I guess, I’ll just soak up the vibes.” Which isn’t the end of the world, a lot of anime does that, but it stuck out because all the battles before that had their fantastical mechanics (mostly) clearly explained, There were also several reconciliations I would have been more okay with if the show had spent more time on what the messy process of repairing that broken trust looked like, but because it didn’t, it felt unearned.
And finally, the show spent a lot of time talking about a huge romantic event and in the end we…didn’t see it. It’s made clear it happened off screen, but the fact we didn’t see the event the show itself made such a big deal about felt like a let-down and even a bit of a cop-out, if I’m being honest. I get that outside forces may have been responsible, but it doesn't change my disappointment.
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Basically what most of the complaints amount to is that I really enjoy this show, but I feel it needed to be longer than it was. At the very least, the events of the final episode could have used two episodes to unfold, so everything could be fully developed, and we could fully see how the characters ended up where they were. But ideally…Gundam series are typically 50 episodes, and I feel like this show might have been better served as a show of that length (or even 37 episodes/3 seasons). This show had a huge cast, a huge world, and a lot going on. I think we needed to spend a lot more time with the characters to get to know their backstories, personalities and agendas. I would have loved some “filler” episodes focusing on a minor character, or Suletta and Miorine going on a disastrous date.
However, overall I was satisfied with the ending. I came out feeling like a winner. It was fun, a lot of the characters ended up where I wanted them to be, and I liked how things turned out. There was an acknowledgement that a corrupt system of war profiteering and exploitation could not be taken down in one stroke, but that our heroes were going to keep fighting. I dearly want a slice of life following all these people at the end of the day, and my investment in the characters is a sign of a job well done.
The show also continued to treat it’s array of fat characters with respect, and it had some good disability representation as well, highlighting some disabled people leading fulfilling and joyful lives.
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I really wish G-Witch could have been the absolute best version of itself. But the version we got is still pretty great. I definitely had a fantastic time with the show, was often touched by it, and I’ll carry the excellent characters with me for a long while. The textual romance between two female leads in a mainstream franchise like Gundam is a monumental achievement, and the show handled the relationship well. I hope its success opens the door for more like it. We deserve more stories like this- stories of all genres where queer people are important and get to go on grand adventures, are protagonists, are a normal part of the setting, where we see the kind of people anime usually ignores (fat people, non-Japanese people of color, queer people and disabled people...) are treated with respect, where the story embraces all even as it explores injustice. G-witch is an important step, and I’m sure it will be remembered fondly for years to come. And I sure wouldn’t say no to an OVA to fill in some of the blanks.
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circletrapped · 9 months
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i haven’t written fanfiction in about a year and a half but the brain worms are winning so here:
Stormy Seas
Elliott/GN!Farmer
2.3k words
Fluff, no actual hurt but there is comfort
Rating: G
Description: Elliott is definitely not afraid of thunder, so there’s absolutely no reason for you to come to his cabin in the middle of the night for the purpose of comforting him. But since you’re already here, he may as well enjoy your company.
///
Crash!
The blinding flash of white light and immediate follow of close thunder jolts you from your sleep. Storms have never particularly bothered you, but the noise interrupted the perfectly fine dream you’d been having. It wasn’t anything particularly unusual or special - you were just taking eggs from your chickens and every time you thought you had finally collected them all, you’d turn around only to find more eggs. You turn over and pull the covers over your head, hoping to muffle the sound of the wind howling and the raindrops clacking incessantly against your windows.
Tick, tick-tick, tic- BANG!
It’s useless. You’re not falling back asleep anytime soon, unless by some divine intervention the storm dies down. You sit up with a sigh, giving a glance around the barely-illuminated room to check for leaks. You can’t help but feel a small amount of triumph at the fact that none of the rain has been able to seep through the roof. You’d been living on your grandfather’s farm for quite some time now, and decided you could at least teach yourself how to do some simple repairs and maintenance to save some money. Profiting from the crops you grow is anything but quick, so every little bit helps. The first time it had rained on the farm the old house was practically flooded, so you took the time to patch the roof yourself. It took quite a bit of trial and error after each storm to get it right, but it looks like the last repairs you made to your roof are holding up well.
Another loud whoosh of wind cuts through the walls of your house and you pull your blankets closer to you to combat the cold. Spring had just begun, but the winter’s chill was stubborn and holding its grasp as tightly as it could. You note that even the empty side of your bed is cold to the touch. It makes you recoil your hand back into the comfort of the heat radiating off your body.
You’d had enough of cold hands during the winter. Since it was far too cold for any worthwhile crops to grow, you’d spent most of your time fishing by the sea. It was brutal, but Willy was a kind man who always gave you a fair price for what you caught and would occasionally share a hot cup of cocoa with you on days when not even your gloves could protect your hands from the bitter chill. It made the beach your favorite place to fish.
That, and the presence of Elliott. You smile to yourself as you remember your first time meeting him.
It was a much warmer day, and you were trying to get the hang of using the rod that Willy had gifted to you as a welcome present. You were ecstatic that something had caught your hook was actually allowing you to reel it in, but the feeling quickly evaporated when a piece of trash emerged from the water. You swore, probably louder than you should have, only to have it met with a small chuckle.
You were ready to swing around and share an obscene gesture with the offender, but stopped in your tracks when you laid eyes on the tall, handsome tree of a man with inexplicably gorgeous long hair.
“At least you caught something. I’d be lucky to hook any sort of junk.”
From that point forward, you made it a point to see him every day. He was easy-going, had the soul of an artist, and took great pride in everything he did. The first time you felt brave enough to flirt with him, the bright blush on his face and the spark in his eye gave away that he was a hopeless romantic. The two of you would spend hours talking to one another on the beach until one rainy day, he wasn’t out there to meet you. You knocked on the door to his cabin and he invited you in with open arms. He told you two things that day that you stored in the back of your mind.
“I’ve never cared for storms like this. I actually feel quite foolish for moving to a house on the beach - the serenity of the water becomes an unbearable battleground in this water. I can never sleep when it rains here, and there’s no way I’d be insane enough to leave the safety of my cabin when it does. I need to watch for leaks and place something to catch the water before it reaches any of my papers.”
And,
“Of course, you’re welcome any time. Though I’d prefer you confine your visits to daylight hours. If my sleep gets interrupted, I tend to be a bit cantankerous.”
After that day, you knew wanted to learn everything about him and be the muse he’d been looking for. And after learning of his affinity for lobster, every single one you caught was gifted to him until the day you handed him a bouquet of flowers with trembling hands. What started as being the most nerve-wracking days of your life became one of the best as he accepted and reciprocated your feelings toward him.
Boom!
The thunder yanks you out of your memories. Poor Elliott, you think, he’s probably tossing and turning with this weather. Or maybe he’s running across his cabin securing his writing from any water that might invade. You look at the clock resting on your bedside table.
1:04 A.M.
He ought to be sleeping at this hour. How could he write or expect to go through the laborious process of styling his hair without getting enough rest?
You brace yourself for a moment in anticipation of the cold before you throw the blanket off yourself as if ripping off a bandage. The chill seeps straight into your bones as you slip on a pair of shoes and pull on a jacket. It offers no protection when you open the door. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if it’s really worth it to walk across the town just to cuddle with your boyfriend. Conjuring the image of his unkempt hair and puppy-dog eyes as he’s struggling to sleep is plenty of motivation.
It’s pitch black outside and the rain isn’t helping, but you could navigate the town in a blindfold at this point - especially the path to the beach. To Elliott’s cabin.
The wind nearly knocks you off your feet a couple times, but you arrive at his doorstep, albeit drenched in rainwater from head to toe. You knock on the door feebly, your hands shaking as they refuse to forgive you for forgetting a pair of gloves.
After a moment, the door opens to the exact sight that was in your mind at the start of your trek.
“For heaven’s sake, get inside!” Elliott gasps, grabbing your ice-cold hand and pulling you across the threshold and quickly shutting the door. His next words bounce between concern and outrage. “You’re soaking! What on Earth possessed you to walk across the town in this weather?! Oh, you’re shivering! What were you thinking? Get out of those wet clothes or you’ll freeze to death! I have some you can borrow. What are you doing here? This is so careless! Are you alright? What were you thinking?”
You hang your coat on a hook at his instruction. While it took the brunt of the rain, the rest of your clothes aren’t exactly dry. Elliott looks up from his dresser and back at you, his brow creasing further and frown deepening.
“All of it,” he demands. You can’t resist.
“Oh, Elliott, I just got here. You’re not even gonna offer me a drink before you get me undressed?”
His furious expression doesn’t change, but a bright blush quickly spreads across his face.
“Are you out of your mind? I ought to cart you off to the clinic this instant to get your brain examined!” He tosses a shirt and a pair of sleep pants to you before turning his back and resuming his fussing in a mutter. “Trudging miles to my cabin in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm and having the gall to immediately flirt with me, you are unbelievable!”
“Sweetheart, I’m joking,” you laugh as you pull off your shirt and replace it with his. You do the same with your bottoms, tugging the strings as tight as they’ll go to make sure they don’t fall off. Despite the muscle you’ve gained from farm work, he’s much taller than you so his clothes hang quite loose. They’re much warmer, though, and they smell like him. You have zero intention of returning them. “Alright, I’m dressed. You can look at me. Even though we’re dating and you could’ve watched me change. I would’ve made a little show out of it for you.”
Elliott doesn’t turn to face you. Your playful smile falls at the thought that he’s actually upset with you.
“Elliott?”
More deafening silence. And rain.
“Elliott, I’m sorry, I just.. I wanted to make sure you were alright. I know you’re afraid of-”
His head whips around and the glare on his face stops you in your tracks.
“I mean, I know you have trouble sleeping when it storms. And sleep is good. I wanted to help you sleep.”
The anger on his face crumbles at last and his shoulders fall as he releases a loud sigh. He walks toward you and brings his hand to your jaw.
“You’re lovely,” he whispers after a beat. “You’re too sweet for your own good. Do you have any idea how much the idea of you getting swept away in the storm scares me? I don’t like to worry about you.”
You let out a small laugh at him. “Swept away? I’m not that small.”
“You know what I mean. I have enough to be strung out over when it storms like this, I don’t want to have another thing to make me pace about.”
You lean forward to give him a quick peck on the lips.
“You know you don’t have to worry about me,” you insist. Elliott pouts at this.
“This is coming from the one who, on multiple occasions, has been found passed out in the mines covered in slime and bat bites? And now you’re galavanting through dangerous thunderstorms? I don’t think I worry about you as much as I ought to.”
You laugh again and take his free hand, slipping out of his grasp and leading him to his bed.
“Well, enough pacing. You need to rest. You know I worry about you not taking care of yourself when you get lost in your writing.”
Elliott gives a half-hearted chuckle as he follows your lead. You release his hand and throw yourself onto the bed. It’s much softer than the one you have at home. The only thing that would make it more comfortable is Elliott. The man is practically a space heater. Before he joins you, he hesitates.
“And for your information, I am not afraid of th-”
Crack!
The yelp escapes him before he can bring his hand to cover his mouth. Combined with the fact that he jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound didn’t make for a convincing argument. You can’t help the maniacal laughter that escapes you.
“You’re not?” You giggle.
“Enough already,” Elliott huffs as he lays down next to you. You wrap your arm around him and guide his head to bury into your neck. You give him a tight squeeze and he lets out a breath of relief.
“Don’t worry, tough guy,” you coo, “I’ll protect you.”
He grumbles at being patronized but snuggles closer to you. With Elliott in your arms, the racket outside doesn’t sound so bad. It’s almost like music. Even the thunder quiets down, although it still makes Elliott flinch. You almost think he’s actually sleeping until a new sound joins the symphony.
Drip, drip, drip…
“Damn,” Elliott mutters. “I knew it would leak.”
He moves to investigate but you hold him tighter and shush him.
“I’ll take care of it in the morning,” you whisper. “I’ll clean it up for you and help you patch the roof.”
“You can do that?”
“I did it to mine. I figured Robin has her hands full enough, especially after storms like this. I’m happy to.”
“Didn’t know you were a farmer and a handyman.”
“And miner, and fisher, and my cooking is second to none- you’re pretty lucky to have me on your payroll.”
“Payroll? How much is this repair going to cost, then?”
You think for a moment then shuffle so you’re face-to-face with him.
“A thousand kisses.”
“One thousand, eh?”
“Afraid so. Between the materials, the labor, the expediency fee… yup, comes out to a thousand.”
You stare into Elliott’s eyes as you both sit in silence, stupid grins on both your faces.
“You won’t mind if I put down a deposit then?”
“Oh not at all, that’s actually a pretty good ide-” Elliott cuts you off with his lips on yours, peppering short kisses on your mouth, cheeks, and forehead while you giggle from the way his hair is ticking you. He finally comes to rest in the crook of your neck, sprinkling a couple kisses here and there before letting out a contented sigh.
“How’s that? Was that a thousand?”
You hum to feign consideration. “Just about. You can give me the rest if I do a good job tomorrow.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
You plant one last kiss on the crown of his head and feel his arm drape over your side. Thunder crashes outside again, but Elliott doesn’t flinch. You smile to yourself. You don’t doze off until you hear his soft snoring beneath you.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“Love you too, darling,” Elliott mumbles, half-asleep.
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This post contains all the spoilers about 10.21 and 10.22. Ye be warned.
Another Warning; I'm about to bitch.   I started writing this about 45 minutes after the final episode ended. I was going to write it in a few days, but I really need to vent if I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
It should be said that while I still love the show and the characters, and the final episodes were not objectively terrible, I had a list of things that I wanted and I got none of them. So I'm going to sound off on that.
It doesn't change how I feel about the show overall, and I'll go back to saying positive things about the show afterwards, but at the moment that I'm writing this I'm pissed, and I'm going to express it.
I remember one of the producers was quoted as saying that Ressler would be front and center when Reddington's fate was decided. What? There was no decision here. Who decided something?? Not Ressler.
And it did feel like that was coming. It looked like Ressler would be the one to catch up with him and decide whether to take him in or let him go. And I'm not just talking about the last 15 minutes, it felt like that all the way through. The other characters kind of had to declare where they stood, to some degree (dembe and Harold got off the hook) and Ressler didn't really do that. I feel cheated.
I feel cheated on many levels. From 8 years of mysteries laid out that were never answered, to dodging the central question of the show's premise, to ditching the Red/Dembe relationship which was simply the most beautiful male friendship and defined both characters, and finally, no mention of Elizabeth in the end.
What the hell is going on with Dembe? He was asked how he felt about what he was doing, and he couldn't answer. And he never did explain why. What exactly did he think would happen when Reddington was brought in? The man's already been sentenced to death.  Argh.  Makes no sense. In the end the core of Dembe's character makes no sense because they didn't explain it, or address his original stated purpose of wanting to save Reddington's soul.  The monologue covered the past, but not the present.  Bad job.
When that story of The Matador first came up, and the allusion was made that Reddington needs to risk his life to feel alive, I cried bullshit at the time. That's not the character that I've been watching. He is content with whatever life brings, he is fearless, but he does not need to seek risk to make life worthwhile. He is just as happy with peace and quiet, WHICH THEY SPENT A LOT OF TIME DEMONSTRATING IN THE LAST HALF HOUR.
So this ultimate ending with the bull just sucks balls. They're trying to imply that he chose the risk, and chose the manner of  his death, because risk is his thing, like the Matador.
Hell to the no.
And where does that leave Agnes?? God damn it, that's too much tragedy.  No, I cannot presume she's going to be okay with losing him.  I want to kick something. The show ended so very far away from what the first eight years were about; Red's relationship with Liz, and thereafter with Agnes.
I'm going to have to get my ass in gear and actually write some fanfiction. I've done only a handful of longer pieces over the last 20 years, and I recognize that I'm neither good nor proficient at it. But I don't think I can let this rest.
I'm still wound up in The Blacklist, and I don't see myself getting another fandom anytime soon. I get burnt out at the end. After many years they end in ways that aren't satisfying and I wonder why I should let myself get emotionally involved in another story.  There are some showrunners whose names I have learned because of this and will actively not watch a show they produce. I don't think that's the case here, but it might be quite some time, if ever, that I let myself fall in love with fiction like this again. Why do they need to b**** slap us, the audience who followed them for years, in the end??  Is there some kind of perception that a happy ending is somehow detrimental to their audience??
It affects the rewatchability of the show, you know? It's hard to get invested in something when you know the ending is disappointing.
Ok, ok.  It may not be the writer's fault. They always said they were going to concretely reveal Red's identity, and that didn't happen. I believe that is the network interfering with the writers. And I feel like that may have happened on more than just Red's identity. I mean... A bull.  As in, we can't write what we want to, so here's some b*******. If that was the deliberate choice, kudos to the writers. Well played. If it wasn't their intention to draw in that phrase...well. They walked right into that one.
I realize there probably isn't much of an audience for what I'll be writing, but I need to write it for myself.  It is sad to me that the fandom for The Blacklist seems to be so small. There was so much material here, and so many of the people I've known for my past fandoms could have loved it as passionately as I did, and written far more and far better than I ever could. I think if they had confirmed Redarina directly it actually would have accomplished that. The people I've been close to in past fandoms are wildly supportive of LGBTQ and would have been attracted to this character's story based on his being trans.  What are missed opportunity.
Can we get this to be a George RR Martin situation?  Where the original Creator puts out a book that contains his own ending and ignores this one?
I'm going to see about getting that first fiction written as quickly as I can. But until then, let this be said for the record;
Donald Ressler got Reddington to a hospital, and after a lengthy recovery, during which Weecha concluded that life with Reddington is not for her, Red walked free, called Agnes, and welcomed Dembe back to his side, as Red had retired from crime. They both went in search of, and found, Anne.
Addition; posting this the following morning. I did not get any sleep. I need to stop letting fiction do that to me.
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because-of-a-friend · 2 years
Text
How to Light a Fire
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MASTERLIST
Thanks for the request anon! I’m glad you like my works and I hope I can keep entertaining you! 
Word Count: 2.2K
Warnings: Lots of talk about being insecure and not feeling good enough, emotional self-sabotage, SUPER angsty before the fluff, also more emphasis on the angst than the fluff, let me know if I missed anything!
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Chan had created a bad habit of pushing people away. It stemmed from insecurity, he supposed. Fans had called him an extra member. Their CEO had suggested it might have been better for him to wait and debut in a different group. He had convinced himself that he was barely holding onto the approval of his own bandmates. 
A part of him whispered that if all the people who were supposed to care about him the most viewed him this way, he really had nothing to offer anyone at all. This meant that everyone was bound to get bored of him eventually and leave.
So better to push first than be left behind, right?
It happened in different ways with different people: slowly distancing himself, ghosting, or doing things to make others mad to prove they couldn’t love him through it. 
The tiny, sane voice in his brain pleaded with him to realize his insecurites weren’t true. He was truly loved by his friends, his fans, his bandmates. He was a worthwhile person who deserved the love he received. He needed to talk to someone, reach out, confirm that his insecurities had no evidence to stand on. But this one lone voice was drowned out by all the others. 
Which is why, when he meets you and falls in love at first sight, every alarm is ringing fearful noises throughout his entire brain.
~~~~~
At first he lets himself flirt with you, because that’s harmless, right?
You flirt back and it’s never anything committal, just innocent back and forth banter when he sees you around the building. It doesn’t escalate to anything more. Besides you had just started working there so he had the excuse that he was trying to be welcoming to a new member of the Pledis team. 
But then he purposely starts timing his visits to the break room with your usual coffee runs just so he can see you. His palms get all sweaty, and his heart starts beating fast, and he always leaves the room with his face hurting from how much he’s grinning. 
He starts noticing little things like: how you bite your lip while you’re waiting for the coffee to brew, how you always have a pen stuck behind your ear, and how you play with the lanyard your company ID is attached to when someone comes into the room and starts speaking to you about something you find boring.
He knew it was a mistake the moment he asked Seungcheol if love at first sight is real. He wasn’t sure he had believed in it before. But since the first time he saw you, he hadn’t been able to get you out of his head and had become practically obsessed with finding out as much about you as possible.
The question didn’t get him an answer, just a parade of his bandmates making kissy noises and asking a million questions about who his crush was. 
He didn’t give you away. He knew that if he did, the other boys would do anything to get the two of you on a date and it would start with interrupting your visits in the break room (so far, the only place he spoke to you anyways). 
And their involvement would make it all too real.
Asking the question about love in the first place already made it too real and had planted a sick twist of dread in his stomach the moment it left his mouth.
So, he insisted to his bandmates that it was just out of curiousity that he had asked that until they finally gave up and left him alone.
~~~~~
It was you that asked Chan out. You had found him cute, enjoyed speaking to him, and had definitely felt a spark between the two of you.
You figured that the worst thing that could happen would be that you would have an awkward interaction with a coworker who you could actually avoid quite easily if you so wished. 
The words “Do you want to get dinner sometime?” catch Chan so offguard that the angry voices in his head go completely unnoticed for once, and he says yes without hesitation.
How could he say no? When you looked like you were glowing even in the ugly fluorescent lighting of their corporate building, smiling at him as if he were the prettiest sunset you had ever seen.
His heart tightens up and warmth blooms from the feeling and he just says yes. The excitement of the upcoming date drowning out the bitter voices in his mind.
And they stay ignored.
~~~~~
For the dating stage of your relationship, Chan is a perfect gentlemen. He picks you up, opens all doors for you, insists on always picking up the check, planning perfect dates, and showering you with adoration. 
You find yourself falling for him quite quickly: always happy to see him, wanting to spend as much time together as possible, just feeling sort of light when you’re with him. It’s like you’re floating in the clouds. You thank your past self for being confident enough to ask him out. You can’t believe you’ve not only found a perfect boyfriend but a boyfriend that’s perfect for you. 
Chan takes it slow. He wants to revel in every stage of your growing relationship, savor every moment it takes to get to know you completely. His growing confidence shows in his physical affection: first linking his pinky with yours as you walk together, then a firm arm around your shoulders, a sweet kiss to your cheek here and there, and then finally a passionate kiss to your lips the night he officially asks you to be his partner. 
You say yes. There is no doubt in your mind that you want a relationship with this man. No matter what comes your way, it will be worth it. You just want Chan.
~~~~~
Your coworkers warned you to be wary of when the happy “bubble” phase of the relationship would end and reality would seep in. They never specified or gave you advice, just kept saying “be ready.” Gee, thanks, that’s super helpful, you’d think with an eyeroll. 
Of course you knew that the “honeymoon” phase didn’t last forever. But you weren’t worried about it. Chan made everything easy for you, and you tried to make everything as easy as possible for him. What did you have to worry about?
Both of you had already been so attentive with each other that things were quicky becoming routine and comfortable mixed with the excitement of a new relationship. The “coming of reality” was more like a slow trickle for the two of you, not a brick wall for you to suddenly run into.
At least that’s what you thought.
~~~~~
You can tell Chan is off the moment you wake up. 
Instead of cuddling into you, nose in your neck, with sweet kisses and whispers of how he wants to stay here all day like he usually does; his back is turned to you and his muscles look all tensed up.
Chan had never opened up to you about his insecurities, so you were unaware that the reality that would pop your relationship bubble would be the insecurities coming back to tell him that you two were doomed to fail and that it was only a matter of time before you would leave him.
Chan left without a word to you that morning, so quickly that you couldn’t even ask him what was wrong. He didn’t answer your texts all day and didn’t stop by to sneak a peck or two while you were making coffee in the breakroom.
The behavior was so strange that you stopped DK in the hall when you happened to run into him. He seemed confused when you asked if something had happend to Chan. You quickly changed the subject, saying something about how you must have just mistaken his behavior as something more serious. You became concerned that maybe you had shared too much about something he hadn’t shared with the boys. DK seemed to buy the bait, wishing you a good day and promising he’ll tell Chan to talk to you ASAP.
When Chan does text you, the words are dry. When you see him again, he’s tight-lipped and all tense.
~~~~~
You might as well have been in a relationship with a cardboard cutout of Chan. He’s hardly present, won’t conversate, and only does the bare minimum. 
It’s like all love and passion drained out of your relationship overnight. And you’re ready to give up on it since he obviously doesn’t want this. 
But you’re not the type to give up, you’re not going to leave without an attempt to save something that seemed so worth it. 
So, when he finally agrees to come back over to your place, you sit him on the couch and place yourself on the coffee table across from him. 
“Ok, Chan, it’s now or never, just tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? Did someone say something to you? Did I say something? Do you not want this anymore?”
The way Chan holds his silent gaze on your shoes on the ground in front of him makes you feel like a school teacher scolding a child. The quiet suffocates the room and drives into your heart. You repeat the questions, altogether and then one by one. Chan says nothing, doesn’t even make a move.
“Chan, I’m not angry at you and I don’t want to make you feel bad, I just want to understand you,” you reach out with your words as far as possible.
Your heart sinks. Maybe he really didn’t want it. Maybe he had just felt bad for you. Maybe he had felt pressured by you. 
You pull back and sit up, “It’s ok, Chan. If you don’t want to be with me, you can say. I’ll take this as my rejection. No need to worry about it.”
Your chest feels empty, an endless void as you make to stand. But then Chan finally looks in your eyes, his own filled impossibly high by tears.
“Chan?” you whisper. “Do you have something to say?”
One more pause.
And then he lets it all go.
You sit next to him this time, letting him pause his ramblings to cry into your shoulder when it becomes to much for him. He explains all his insecurities to you: every moment he didn’t feel like enough, all the things he wanted to do better, the people he would never stop trying to impress.
“I’m feel the worst about you, [Y/N]. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I can’t believe how I treated you. And I have no idea what I would have done if I had really let you go.” You shush him and shake your head, pulling him back into your arms.
“I’m grateful that you shared this with me, Chan. Thank you for trusting me enough to be this open and honest. If I’m honest, no, I’m not psyched with how you handled this. But, you communicated, acknowledged you were wrong and apologized, so we can move on from here.”
“We?” The hope in his voice releases all the tension in your body.
“Yeah. We. We’re a team now. I’m here to support you and help you handle this when you want me to,” you smiled down at him and kiss his forehead.
“What... do I do with this?” he asks unsurely, sitting back to look at you. 
“I think you should start with opening up to your bandmates and start a support system. I also know there are counselors available at the company you can talk to that can point you in the right direction,” you suggest. “But we can worry about that next week. For now let’s just relax for our days off, ok?”
“Ok,” Chan agrees, pushing himself back into your arms. 
Letting himself be loved by you.
~~~~~
Chan is still the perfect gentleman for your relationship, but the dynamic changes to be more balanced. 
It becomes a goal of yours to make sure Chan realizes he deserves to be loved and that you feel lucky to be loved by him.
“Hey handsome,” you call, noticing him leaving the buidling the same time as you.
“Wow, can you guys believe it?” he turnes to his bandmates. “The hottie from the breakroom is hitting on me!” The other boys make loud, obnoxious gagging noises as they watch you and Chan flirt.
He skips your way and grabs your hand to lead you out of the building, thumb stroking your skin. “What do you want to do tonight?” he grins as he speaks to you.
“Move and take-out?” you beam back.
“Sounds perfect,” he steals a kiss.
“Ew please, all this lovey-doveyness is gonna make me sick,” Soonyoung whines as he and the other boys scramble away from you and Chan.
Chan doesn’t even pay them the smallest bit of attention as he walks you to his car, constantly pulling you closer to be as near to him as possible. The loudest voice in his head in that moment is raving about how great you look and how sweet you are and how much he loves everything about you. 
He’s sort of cheesy that way.
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skymaiden32 · 2 years
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Clearing The Air
Thundertober/Inktober 2022 Day 6: Commander
After his return, Jeff has something he needs to talk about with his eldest.
Continuity: TAG
Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou (Please ask if you would like to be alerted when I update or write new stories)
I know this is a day late, but here you go.
Prompt list
------
Jeff grinned as his sons and the rest of their mismatched family and friends celebrated Alan’s graduation together. It was clear from the jubilation on everyone’s faces that this had been a long time coming. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He’d missed so much; so many highlights of his children’s lives, and he had no idea how he could make it up to them, although he knew being here to see Alan’s transition from high school to the rest of his life was a good start.
But after the first step, you had to take another. And another. He knew he had a lot of catching up to do. And he knew just who to start with…
------
“Hey, Scott?” The patriarch managed to catch his eldest during routine maintenance on Thunderbird One the day after the party. Jeff had tried to pull him aside during the celebrations, but Scott had always been one step ahead of him. They’d always just missed each other. Honestly, Jeff wouldn’t have blamed his son if it had been on purpose.
Scott jumped at his father’s voice, almost dropping the tool he was using. He turned to face the older man. “Yeah? What do you need Dad?” Jeff knew that look. Scott was nervous about something, and the patriarch had a suspicion it had something to do with him. Jeff sighed inwardly. There was no turning back now.
“I wanted to talk to you about something…” At Scott’s questioning look, he continued. “Could you join me in the office when you’re finished?” Once upon a time, Jeff would’ve called it his office, but he knew that was no longer the case.
Scott shrugged. “I’m just about done, so I can come now if you want.”
“Yep. That’s fine.” The father and son duo walked out of Thunderbird One’s hanger toward the rest of the house. 
“Thanks for letting me borrow this, Brains.” Scott handed the multi-tool he’d been using back to International Rescue’s engineer, who was currently working on updating some of MAX’s code with the Mechanic.
“N-no problem, Scott.” Brains put the tool back in it’s rightful place. “W-we’re still testing the u-upgrades to the T-drive l-later, right?” He asked after noticing Jeff. The look on the Mechanic’s face told the patriarch that the other mechanical genius felt similarly uncertain.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Scott gave the engineers a thumbs up. “See you guys later.” The eldest Tracy brother turned away to continue walking alongside his father. 
The Mechanic’s voice followed the pair as they left the room. “Have fun!” 
The doors drifted shut, and Scott huffed in amusement at their newest member’s antics. Jeff gave him a look. “I thought you didn’t like the Mechanic?”
Scott gave his father the first genuine smile since he’d been brought back. “At first. How else are you supposed to react to someone who almost killed your family multiple times?” His face adopted a more serious expression. “I’ve since realised that animosity wasn’t going to lead anywhere worthwhile. He was under the Hood’s control, and he’s changed since then. I don’t think I’d view him as an ally if he didn’t help us find you…” Jeff nodded in understanding as they walked in silence for a few more minutes. They finally made it to the office, closing the door behind them.
It was now or never. “Scott…” Jeff inhaled. “I’m so sorry…”
Scott looked at his father incredulously. “What for?”
“You know exactly what…” The look on his son’s face told Jeff he did know what the patriarch was apologising for, but Jeff said it anyway. “For everything. For disappearing, for leaving you boys to deal with it, for leaving you with a business, rescue organisation and family to run. All of it!”
“I’m the one who should be apologising, Dad…” Jeff gave his son a look. “I tried so hard to manage everything without you, but I still messed up multiple times. Every board meeting gone wrong, every time the GDF was on our backs for some disaster, every time one of the others got hurt, that’s on me.” He smiled sadly, and even in the relative darkness, Jeff could see the tears that started appearing. “I’m sorry I failed you and your legacy by being a total screw-up…”
Jeff wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just scooped his eldest into the biggest hug he could manage. And somehow, he didn’t find the words. The words found him. “You didn’t fail me, Scooter…” He began, knowing Scott’s childhood nickname would bring some kind of comfort. “I failed you…” He felt himself cry now, but his upset was nothing compared to his son’s. He pulled back, wiping Scott’s tears away with a gentle hand as he guided his son to look into his eyes. “You’re stronger than you could ever know, son. I may have played my own part, but don’t count yourself out of the race just yet. You’re a way better Commander than I could hope to be. Our family, International Rescue, Tracy Industries… They wouldn’t be what they are today without you…” 
He thought about Virgil, who practically clung to Scott like glue, being each other’s closest confidante. He thought about John, who would probably be completely isolated if Scott and the others didn’t check in regularly. Gordon, who wouldn’t have been talking through his trauma from his accident and back to his bubbly self without Scott’s support. Alan, who would just be a broken teen if Scott hadn’t stepped in to practically raise him and be the father figure he’d needed. 
It wasn’t just the other boys, either. He knew his mother would’ve been heartbroken when he’d disappeared, and although he knew Sally was a stubborn woman and could take care of herself, the support from her eldest grandson likely helped a lot. Kayo was so scared of being abandoned because of who her uncle was, but he’d been told how accepting all his boys were of the woman who was practically their sister. Brains and the Mechanic were confidant in calling this place home now. All thanks to his eldest boy…
“They need you way more than they need me…” Jeff admitted. “If you boys don’t want me here, if you’re scared I’ll ruin the home you’ve all made together, then I’ll go…”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dad.” Scott managed a scoff through what little tears remained. “If we didn’t want you here, we wouldn’t have worked our butts off to get you back.” He huffed. “Eight years away, and you wanna leave? Absolutely not. I don’t know how things are gonna change, but I do know that whatever happens, we can face them as a family, together…”
Jeff smiled, embracing his son in a tight hug once again. “Together…”
------
In the months that followed, a new dynamic that everyone was very glad for formed. After all, Jeff was firmly in the middle of it. 
Virgil had firmly grounded his father from overworking himself due to far too long in zero-gravity, which meant no missions. He was still a key IR member, but his role was more advisory than anything else. He’d tried to go back to Tracy Industries, but that idea had been just as bright as a black hole once he’d realised he barely recognised the place. Sure, the company was just fine under his direction, but under Scott’s, everything seemed to run like clockwork. He didn’t mind taking over sometimes, though. As for the family, Jeff thanked his lucky stars he was able to take over Scott’s responsibilities for almost the entirety of that, although Alan still clung to his eldest brother a lot.
He waved as Scott, the now official Commander-in-Chief of International Rescue, returned from the latest rescue he’d had to attend. Scott grinned as he waved back, before being herded off by Gordon. 
Jeff knew it would still be a long time before many of the boys trusted him with their problems again, but he was back in their lives now, and there was nothing more important than that…
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Note
Are you willing to write about Loki comforting the reader with their parental issues? Like a dad with too big expectations? (Totally not projecting/sarcasm) it's okay if you don't feel comfortable with this. Thank you if you can.
A/N: No, I didn’t also self-project into this prompt, I don’t know WHAT you mean. I hope this helps you feel a little better, friend. Also, enjoy Loki joking about their past decisions.
WC: 1209
Rating: G
TW: None
You heaved a sigh as you flopped face down onto the couch, burying your face into a pillow and screaming.
You’d assumed you were alone in the room, until, when you finally ran out of breath to scream and sat up, you saw Loki watching you from across the room, seated in an armchair and only their eyes visible over the top of their book.
“Feel better?”
You huffed out a laugh, because if you didn’t, you were going to start crying. “Not really, but it felt kinda good.”
Loki said nothing as they placed the bookmark back into their book and closed it, setting it down on the coffee table in front of them as they looked at you. “…is it something you want to talk about?”
You made a grumpy little sound as you leaned back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. “No.”
Loki nodded once, picked up their cup of tea, took a sip, and waited.
They didn’t have to wait very long.
“It’s just my dad again. He’s always… Ugh, I don’t know. It’s like I can never make him feel happy. And I’m pissed off.” You rubbed a hand down your face and let it fall to the couch with a dull thud.
“Because he isn’t happy?”
“No. Yes? Ugh.” You were currently feeling a great many things all at once, and were having trouble processing them so that you could express them, but you knew Loki was going to give you the space you needed to do so for as long as it took.
You opened your eyes and looked back up at the ceiling, watching the fan swing in slow circles for a few long moments, and eventually heaved another sigh.
“…it goes like this. My dad, he… comes from a family where it was very much work hard or get nothing. So he’s been working since he was old enough to be in school. Back then they still didn’t really care so much about child labor. I mean, what where they going to do if the whole family was out there working, you know? And so he’s never really had to not work. And even now that he’s retired, he still works. It’s like that’s all he knows how to do. And I guess… I don’t know, because he was raised that way, he thinks that I should be that way, and that if I’m not constantly working, or even wanting to work, then that means that I just don’t have any drive or any sort of perseverance. And that subsequently means that I’m not really doing anything worthwhile with my life, and therefore wasting it away, and he ‘can’t believe he raised his child like this.’” You stopped, because you had to. You were getting worked up again, and the pure frustration was leaving tears welled up in your eyes.
Loki nodded along as you spoke, and once you fell silent, they hummed softly. “I can see how that would cause some tension between you, yes.”
“And it’s like… I can’t even bring up how it makes me feel to him, because then he likes to tell me that I’m twisting his words or… or that I always make him the bad guy, and… and I’m just so tired of feeling like anything and everything that I ever do will never be enough for him. I’m sick of it. Sick of it.” Unable to hold it in for any longer, you picked up one of the decorative pillows on the couch and pressed it to your face, giving another lengthy scream of utter frustration while Loki only watched you with an expression purposely trained blank.
“…feel any better now?” they asked again, once you’d let the pillow fall back to the couch again, and this time, you huffed out a dry laugh.
“Yeah, actually, I kinda do. I should scream like this more often. You think the others mind?”
Loki shook their head, and it was, in part, out of fondness, and in part due to amusement. “I don’t think the screaming is what’s helping, Y/N.”
“Well, what else would it be, because talking about the whole situation just makes me feel shitty.”
Loki leaned forward, elbows braced atop their knees as they looked at you. “Do you know why that is?”
You tilted your head down to look at them, narrowing your eyes. “I get the feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“Because you don’t talk about it. Y/N, keeping all of this in because you can’t talk to your father about it is doing nothing but letting those emotions fester and mold and the longer you keep them in, the more toxic it becomes to yourself, and to your mental and emotional health.”
You had just enough leftover frustration to be mildly annoyed with them. “Since when did you become a therapist?”
“I’m speaking as someone who knows what it’s like. To have expectations put on you that you can’t quite seem to live up to. To feel like a disappointment, and that nothing you ever do will ever be enough. I get it. Believe you me, I get it more than anyone could.”
You considered that for a long moment, realizing that Loki had to have been telling the truth. You’d never really heard the full story about everything that had ever gone down between Thor and Loki, and even their parents, but you could put two and two together well enough to paint yourself a decent picture.
“…how did you handle it?”
Loki smiled. “Well, I came to Earth and tried to rule all of humanity, so.”
You couldn’t help but to laugh at that, and Loki did, as well, but eventually, they spoke again.
“And you know what? That didn’t help. Nothing ever really helped, until I came here, and had people to talk to, about everything I’d lived through, the trauma I’d grown up with, realized and not. And that… That is what truly helped. Giving myself the permission to not keep it to myself for any longer.”
You nodded slowly, a little stunned at the profundity of the statement, and it took you a few long moments before you spoke again. “…I suppose you have a point.”
Loki nodded, and grinned that insufferable grin that you knew they were making just to get you to smile. “I seldom don’t.” You both shared a genuine smile before they continued. “But I’m serious. Talking about it will help. And it doesn’t have to be with me, or anyone here. We have resources available to us. More than most. And in time… This won’t feel so life-ending anymore. You know?”
You heaved a sigh, and nodded definitively. “…I guess it wouldn’t be so hard to do.”
Loki nodded. “If nothing else, you can always abandon your father on another planet for his sins.” They said it just evenly enough that you couldn’t tell how much of a joke they were saying it as.
“Loki, I say this because I love you: you need help.”
Loki laughed whole-heartedly. “So do you, Y/N. All the best people do.”
All you could do was laugh, feeling like (a bit) of the weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
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scifrey · 11 months
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Keepsakes
A Plane Ticket: Despair & Desire
Status: Complete
Series: the Hob Adherent series (this is the last story in the series. No, really, I mean it.)
Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death.
Relationships: Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling
Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Johanna Constantine, Despair of the Endless, Orpheus, the Kindly Ones
Summary:
Morph and Hob travel to Naxos for their honeymoon, but once there, Hob is tasked with a quest as Vassal of the Endless that will force Morph to confront and amend one of his greatest past cruelties.
Picks up directly after the epilogue of Cling Fast.
READ ON AO3 or below:
Part Two: Despair & Desire
Hob is sitting on one of the lounge chairs on the private patio of their isolated villa. He’s facing the sea when Morph shuffles out of the bedroom, dehydrated and rumpled. He’d obviously found the tea Hob had laid out for him, as he’s got a fresh mug of it cradled between his hands.
“Husband,” Morph crackles, bussing a kiss off of Hob’s crown, then dropping into the lounge chair next to Hob. He takes a sip of his tea, then does a double take at the expression on Hob’s face. “Why have you been crying?”
Hob scrubs the heel of his hand against his eye, and offers Morph a lopsided, tight smile. “I’m fine, duckie.”
Morph makes a disgruntled noise, like a displeased cat. “That is not what I asked. What has made you upset?”
Hob debates lying, but decides that isn’t the precedent he wants to set on the first full day of their honeymoon. “I had a dream about blood and flowers.”
Morph perks up, intrigued. “A nightmare?”
“No,” Hob says. “It felt peaceful. But terribly, terribly sad. And terribly lonely.”
“Do you think it some omen?” Morph asks. “That the Dreaming is trying to communicate something to you?”
“No,” Hob says. “And I’m sure anything the Dreaming has to say to me, it’ll get Merv to say directly to my face.”
Morph nods. “This is true. Mervyn has never shied away from offering blunt truths.”
Hob chuckles a little, heartened by the light banter. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of the man he’s married, this gorgeous, fey prince he gets to call his own for the rest of eternity. 
Morph has bluish bags under his eyes, clearly not having slept enough in the last few days to be well-rested. It’s a worthwhile price to pay for all the frankly amazing sex they’ve been having to celebrate their marriage instead of sleeping. Morph’s lips are chapped from the alcohol, the plane travel, and the sun. They’re irritated and pink from kissing and dehydration. His floofy, sleep-mussed hair is sticking straight up in the sea breeze. His neck is a ruin of bruises.
(Hob is so glad Matthew decided to stay in the Dreaming and train Miko for the next month.)
Morph’s wearing just a pair of teeny, tiny black swim trunks, and a smear of white sun-block on his shoulders and nose where he hasn’t worked it into his skin properly. Morph is utterly devoid of body hair, save for what’s on his head, and Hob thinks he created his final mortal corporation that way on purpose. No need to ever shave. 
(Hob wonders what Morpheus will do if mustaches ever come back into fashion.)
The no-shaving is likely because Morph already despises all the little chores that keeping a human body in good health requires. It makes sense. Hob has never met an adult so resistant to brushing his teeth. He’s like a toddler. It took Hob threatening to never kiss him again to get Morph to understand that it was necessary for good oral health.
Morph is just so… so pretty . And all Hob’s. Forever.
Hob’s heart flips over in his chest, beating like a jackrabbit behind his ribs, and Hob is so in love, just arse-over-tits, disgustingly, inescapably in love . He is fucked with it, and he couldn’t be happier.
Morph takes another sip before asking: “What has you so disturbed, then?”
“Despair visited me, in the dream,” Hob confesses.
“Busybody!” Morph harrumphs. “Could the twins not give us a day before teasing – ”
“No, duck, it wasn’t that, it was…” Hob trails off and licks his lips. He tastes his own finished tea, and the salt of the sea, and the lingering tang of mimosas. “She tasked me with a quest. As vassal.”
Morph’s expression grows thunderous. “And so seeks to separate us during our honeymoon ? How dare she ask this of you now .”
“No, not that either,” Hob rushes to reassure him. He lays a comforting hand on Morph’s bare thigh, sliding his fingers up until they tease the edge of Morph’s slutty trunks. Morph’s pupils dilate, but they can both sense that now is not the time. “This is something that I have to do with you, I think.”
Morph takes Hob’s wandering hand, and presses a series of soft kisses on each knuckle. “Speak then of your quest, O Vassal,” he says with amused warmth. “So that we may undertake it and return to more pleasurable activities.”
Godswounds, Hob feels like a shithead for what he’s about to say. For what he’s about to do . 
But he does it anyway. 
“Morph, beloved…” he says softly. “Where is your son?”
Morph leaps to his feet like Hob’s flesh is a burning brand.
The tea mug drops and shatters on the terracotta tiles at their feet. Morph steps back over the lounge chair, horror crawling across his face, along every line of his body. Hob’s wearing sandshoes, so he ignores the ceramic shards on the ground for the moment. Careful to keep his body language non-confrontational, his arms open and loose, Hob also rises.
“He’s here on Naxos, baby, I know that already,” Hob says softly, squinting in the high sun. “But where?”
“Orpheus is dead ,” Morph says, and it’s half snarl, half sob. He fists his hands in his hair, shoulders curving inward under the weight of his sudden, unexpected reminder of his grief.
“But that’s not true,” Hob says gently. “Not completely. Is it?”
“He was… he was killed, he’s dead , he–he–” Morph’s breathing hitches hard, and he gags on a retch.
“I’m so sorry to bring it up. I’m sorry I have to make you think about it. But Despair asked me, and I…” Hob reaches out to Morph, palm up and welcoming, but not demanding. “He must need us. You.”
“He does not–he wants for nothing…”
“I know. The priests.”
“I… I tried–I don’t– Hob , why would you… why would Despair…”
“I know what Lady Johanna did for you,” Hob says gently. “And I know why.”
Morph peers up at Hob through tear-clumped lashes, the rims of his eyes red and raw. “I couldn’t let him rot .”
“Of course not.”
“But I cannot help him.”
“I know,” Hob assures him. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m not even mad at you about it, duckie. I just don’t get why you never told me. Why you haven’t gone back to see him.”
“He forbade me from attending him,” Morph says, misery in every line of his body. “He would not see me. He refused to even dream so that I might hold him again in the Dreaming.”
“Children have tantrums,” Hob says. He doesn’t mean it in a derogatory or condescending way. “Robyn yelled at me well into his twentieth year. He professed he hated me and then came to apologize within a few days. It’s hard, being a young man, when your passions are so large and your power is so limited. Surely he misses you–”
Morph drops his arms, and they hang limp at his side as he confesses to the sea: “It is my fault his wife died.”
Hob doesn’t buy that for a second, and makes it clear in his expression. “You were the snake that bit her?”
“ No ,” Morph gasps, horrified, whipping his wide gaze back to Hob.
“You sent it?”
“No.”
“Oh, so you were the satyr that tried to assault her?”
“Hob!” Morph wails, growing more and more distraught the more Hob presses him.
“Well I don’t see how you killed her, then,” Hob says, letting a little of his exasperation leak into his tone. He gets that this is probably the single hardest topic for Morph to discuss in the history of his entire existence, but jesu maria , is Hob’s husband ever a Drama Queen. “Unless the stories are vastly different from what really happened?”
“ I did not help Orpheus travel to the underworld to retrieve her! ” shouts, all at once, like he’s vomiting up glass. The confession rings across the water, echoing sharply, clapping back unpleasantly against Hob’s ears.
And then Morph crumples.
Hob knows this crumple, because this is the same crumple he experienced when Despair comforted him in El’s solar. Morph folds inward like rough origami, knees and elbows jutting, hands clawed over his face as he slams into the decking.
Oof, that’s going to bruise.
Hob is over the lounger and at his husband’s side in an instant, pulling Morph in and letting him cinch his arms around Hob’s waist, and press his face into Hob’s tummy, and sob. Does he feel regret for pushing his husband to this? Yes, of course he does. 
Does she also think it was necessary?
Yes to that, too.
Could he have been a bit softer in his approach?
Yeah, he’s realizing with a sinking stomach that perhaps he was a bit prickish about getting them here. Just because he’s Vassal to the Endless doesn’t mean his name has to be Dickhead.
“What… wh-what is this–?” Morph chokes, wet and snotty and awful. “I–I can’t breathe, I–”
“It’s just a panic attack, love,” Hob croons gently, rocking Morph gently, petting down the nape of his neck and back. “Perfectly normal for a human. I’m sorry what I said brought this on, I should have… I’m here, I’ll help. Deep breaths now, you’re going to be fine, just relax, shhhhh… breathe…”
“The… the feeling , it is here , and I cannot dislodge… Hob,” Morph gasps, hands fisted against his own heart.
“That’s grief, my beloved, that’s normal, too. Breathe. Just breathe.”
Morph breathes. 
When the panic finally subsides, he lets out a deep, shuddering sigh and flops onto his side on the sun-warmed terracotta. Hob cradles his head in his lap, lovingly cleans his face with the tail of his own shirt, and kisses his eyelids softly.
“I’m sorry,” Hob says again. “I should have eased into that a bit better.”
Morph’s mouth twists, but he rocks his head back and forth in denial. “I suspect no matter how you phrased it, I would have… panicked all the same.” He flattens his palm against his heart, and Hob twines his fingers between Morph’s, taking comfort in the feel of Morph’s heart slowing. “My son has been dead for thousands of years, and yet I have not grieved him like this in all that time.”
“Welcome to humanity,” Hob scoffs gently.
“I do not like it.”
“Neither do I,” Hob says. “I hate seeing you suffering.”
Morph closes his eyes, slowly, as if the very thought of Hob’s pain causes the same in him. “And yet, do I not deserve to?”
Morph’s eyes are closed, so Hob indulges in a single eye roll. “Babe, being unable to help Eurydice after her death is not the same as killing her, either accidentally or on purpose.”
Morph squeezes Hob’s hand hard, expression screwing up in shame. “I did not want him to marry her. I did not think it a wise match, and he never forgave me. I would not… I would not dance at their wedding. Calliope called it selfish, and feared it would be taken as an ill omen, and then…”
Ah-ha, that explains it, Hob thinks. “And then she died.”
Morph nods, sniffling as more tears leak out of the side of his eyes. He presses the heel of his free hand into one, scrubbing. “Orpheus begged my help, both as his father and as Dream of Endless, and I would not give it.”
“ Could not.”
“ Would not,” Morph insists. “My sister Death found a loophole to the rules. As did my brother Destruction. And yet, in giving them his aid, his failure to complete his quest and rescue Eurydice meant that death and destruction became his fate.” Now he finally looks up at Hob, glacier-blue eyes swimming with regret. “Had I acquiesced, perhaps he would have succeeded. And had he failed, perhaps the worst that would have befallen him was an eternal sleep.”
“Or eternal nightmares,” Hob says gently, cradling Morph’s cheek. “You can’t know. And you can’t beat yourself up about it now, not literal centuries after the fact. But it’s… it’s not too late to have a relationship with him.”
“No, it is far beyond too late,” Morph says glumly. “That Despair is the one who tasked you with seeking him out, it makes this truth enough.”
“I don’t agree. Sure, he despairs, Morph. It was his blood I dreamed of. His darkness. His loneliness. But we’re here now. We can go see him. We can go get him and… and, I don’t know, bring him home.”
Morph looks up at him quizzically. “What life do you suppose a disembodied head may live in London?” 
He means the question sincerely, so Hob answers him sincerely.
“Well, he won’t have much of a social life, I guess. But there’s London Below, people will hardly blink an eye at him there. And maybe someone there would be able to fashion a body for him. Perhaps there’s a rabbi who knows how to make a golem. Maybe we can track down more angels and get one of those ‘stacks’ of corporations Lucifer talked about.”
Morpheus muses on this, but seems unconvinced.
“We don’t have to decide now,” Hob says. “It’s Orpheus’ to make, anyway.”
“That it is,” Morph says gravely. 
Hob takes that as a sign that the panic attack has well and truly passed, and maneuvers them over to the lounge chair, to perch wound together at the foot, facing out at the water.
“I do have one question I want to ask,” Hob says, squeezing Morph’s fingers reassuringly. “And I don’t mean this confrontationally, okay?”
Morph takes a shaking breath, letting it out on a shakier sigh. “Okay.”
“If you’re so resistant to seeing him, if you didn’t even want me to know about him, why did you suggest Naxos for our honeymoon?” Hob asks gently. “ You’re the reason we’re here. Were you really not going to tell me?”
“I–” Morph prevaricates. 
“Why would you–”
“I don’t know!” he gasps, suddenly distraught again. Hob rubs his back soothingly. “I thought… no, I didn’t think, I wasn’t… you asked me, so I… I don’t know why I said Naxos. You asked, and I answered without thought.”
Instead of answering right away, Hob stops and replays the conversation that brought them here in his mind. 
“Hey, duck,” Hob asks, looking up from the world map he’s got spread out on the kitchen island. Matthew is standing beside it, having asked Hob about all the places he’s visited. “Since I’ve got the map out, where’s the one place in the world you want to go more than any other?”
“Naxos,” Morph says, immediately and with no hesitation. He’s on the sofa, face and hands buried in his sketchbook, thumbnailing the next chapter of his graphic novel. He doesn’t even look up. Hob’s not even entirely sure Morph’s realized he’s answered.
“Okay,” Hob says, “Sounds good. I’ll book the tickets.”
Morph just grunts, focused on his work. Matthew and Hob spend the rest of the night researching vacation villas and ticket prices without his input. Hob’s paid a ludicrous amount of money for one of his shady underground contacts to provide him with identity papers for Morph; it’s only fair that they actually use the passport. Besides, it’ll be a nice surprise for after the wedding.
“You answered Naxos because this is where Orpheus is,” Hob says. “But you didn’t even realize it was your greatest wish, to be near him.”
“I… I suppose I must not have, I–” Morph sits up so fast he nearly headbutts Hob, and grabs Hob’s shoulders in a merciless grip. “I want to see him. I want to! Hob, I want... I want to see my son. ”
“Okay, duck,” Hob says gently. “Okay. You get cleaned up, and I’ll see if this place comes equipped with a map.”
PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART
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blueside-blue · 1 year
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𖧧 no 18; any other way by eric nam
⊹ ship; seungjin
⊹ for; nina, spotify wrapped challenge 2022
⊹ tags; angst with happy ending, whump, existential crisis, suffering, mentions of wanting to die, being stuck in purgatory, salvation, fantasy setting
⊹ wc; 1.7k
⊹ lyrics;
I didn't know why Why happiness was fleeting in my life 'Til you, my butterfly I found you and you led me To the light Oblivious to things around me It's only in your arms, I can see That everything means Nothing without you Oh, they don't feel the things we're feeling It's got us dancing on the ceiling It's really not that hard for me To choose Because I Wouldn't have it any other way Oh-oh, any other way
When Seungmin wakes all is as always. The sand is stone-cold and hard beneath his body, the air unmoving and soundless — deafening, almost. And he himself is still breathing with his heart beating, but yet, not alive. Because who could consider the state he was in a life? If it was, certainly not one worth living. 
Seungmin has been laying here, in the emptiness that slowly seeped into his heart, without being able to say how long for at this point. He doesn’t know when he has last eaten or quenched his thirst, or if he had such needs that ought to be satisfied in the first place. But since he knows of them — thirst, hunger, desire, a will to live — there must have been a time like that. Many days must have passed since then. And if Seungmin had been counting at all, he has long lost sight of the number. Time feels permanent in this place, opening a space for questions that won’t find answers, so Seungmin has long stopped asking.
In the waste of this land where nothing is worthwhile, where no living thing is around, where it’s just stones and sand and coldness that burns hot in the night. Where there is nothing for Seungmin to do. Where he can’t even move from this spot, having long forfeited this pointless war against the forces that be who decided he shouldn’t be able to as much as lift a finger. He was damned. 
In the beginning Seungmin thought there must be a reason for him to be here, a purpose, a hint of something that at least whispered a breath of meaning into his existence. But as he watched the sun glare down at him as it traveled along the horizon with no warmth in its rays with every passing day his resolve regressed. Now he knows, he was only left here to suffer.
If this was hell, he wished he could just die again. Maybe if he closed his eyes long enough and emptied his thoughts. If he stopped thinking, breathing, *being*, then maybe, *maybe* the force of nature that has been rubbing at his skin might finally wash him away. 
So he closes his eyes and waits — for what he isn’t sure.
For a second? A minute? An hour? A day? A week? A month? A year? 
Time works weirdly in this place. 
Nothing happens. Nothing ever happens here.
But—
What was that?
Seungmin’s eyes reopen upon a weird but new sensation, one that he has not felt before, not the stark light nor the burning cold or the rigidness of the sand, brushes by his ear. It’s the tiniest whiff of air hitting his skin, moving the molecules that stay rock still even with Seungmin breathing. 
There is a flutter in the corner of Seungmin’s eye. He blinks. If he could, Seungmin would lift his head and look around, but his limbs are just so stiff and heavy. He wants to know what is causing a ripple in this world that has been standing still for so long.
And then he sees it, the little thing, gliding through the air until it lands square on the bridge of Seungmin’s nose. He goes cross-eyed with pupils blown wide as he watches the butterfly kiss his nose. Seungmin is astounded. How is this possible? A living thing in this dead place where nothing is supposed to live and grow to be beautiful and everything gets reduced to sand and dust eventually — like he had hoped he would soon, too.
The butterfly only lingers for a brief moment of time before it lifts into the air again and starts to fly away. Upon the realization that Seungmin was soon to lose the only worthwhile thing that has come to him after all this monotonous stillness that stays ever the same, something stirs in him, deep inside. 
The gears in his mind start to rattle forth and forth, faster and faster until his fingers twitch and his joints crack. The further away the butterfly goes the more desperate Seungmin becomes, he uses his brute mental force to get his muscles — heavy like stones — to move and before he knows it, he is holding himself upright, swaying on the sand. He then goes to command his body to walk, his steps leaden and unsteady, but he is moving — moving alas, towards his fleeting happiness. 
Seungmin staggers after the butterfly helplessly with his vision swimming away from him and his head spinning. It’s hard to keep track of its colorful flicker through the pure mental struggle that is necessary to keep his body afloat, but nevertheless he doesn’t allow the butterfly to ever leave his field of vision. He can’t afford to lose *this* too.
The butterfly flitters and flutters and Seungmin stumbles and bumbles, drawing in closer and closer until the butterfly is almost an arm’s reach away. Just a few more steps, just a little more and happiness shall be his own again. He is so, so close now.
In an act of despair and misjudgment Seungmin lunges forward in a desperate attempt to catch the butterfly. Before he knows it, he is falling and rolling down one of the sand dunes, his world turning round and round and upside down. When he comes to a halt, dusted and ditched like an overripe fruit fallen to the ground and left to rot, he spots the butterfly again immediately. It’s trailing after him, then passes on top of him and Seungmin watches its airy dance with amazement. 
When it then goes to pass above his head and Seungmin is yet again in danger of losing sight of the beautiful butterfly and craning his neck isn’t enough anymore to keep track, he gathers his last set of strength to roll onto his back. Only then does he notice they have reached a clearance and Seungmin is met with an even more incredible sight displayed in front of him and the butterfly right in the center. 
In the middle of it there is shimmering blue and emerald green with spots of purples, reds, and yellows, shining in stark contrast to the greyish sand beneath him. Now an overwhelming sense of thirst washes over Seungmin, the feeling is unfamiliar and new. His mouth feels as dry as parchment paper it’s as if death is clawing down his throat. Having fallen down and being unable to muster up the strength to get up again and walk, he can only stay on the ground and crawl, following the butterfly fluttering away toward the oasis — into paradise. 
In that moment it feels like as if salvation is almost so near he can taste it and yet so so so far away. Even though his arms are shaking like leaves in the wind, his legs feel numb, heavy, and lifeless, like dead weight dragging at the end of his body, Seungmin doesn’t want to give up. He moves on. He wants to reach. He wants to drink. He wants to feel alive again. The butterfly made it so.
He meets the little thing by the shore after what feels like an eternity and Seungmin doesn’t waste a second then. The moment he finally, *finally* reaches the water, he lowers his head and drinks from it until his belly is bursting. He drinks and drinks and drinks until his insides are gurgling and he feels sick to the stomach and *yet* his thirst isn’t quenched the slightest bit.
Seungmin wonders, why this all still feels so unsatisfactory? Wasn’t this what he had wanted so desperately?
When he then turns to look for the beautiful butterfly, the ethereal being that saved his life, he is instead met with the sight of a globe of light radiating next to him — exactly where the butterfly had been. Inside of the burning hot rays he can make out a silhouette. The figure glows so bright, brighter than the luminous sun high up to the sky. Seungmin feels as though, he has been blinded by the flash of light but can’t seem to tear his gaze away.
“My brave soldier,” the figure says, voice ringing clear in Seungmin‘s ears. “Your suffering will end today. My hand is won. We may return home, soon to be wedded as it had been your last dying wish.”
The glow has started to dim now and Seungmin can make out some features of the figure going to kneel down next to him. A man with kind eyes and golden locks framing his otherworldly face. There is concern written all over his face and— *Are those shimmering crystals tears in his eyes?*
“My love, do you not remember?” The stranger suddenly sobs as he reaches out to touch Seungmin by the shoulder, making a zing of energy bolt through the whole of his body. 
Then a dam breaks. The gates of unlocked memories fall down and flood Seungmin’s and then — then he remembers. 
“Hyunjin! My Hyunjin!” Seungmin wails as tears begin to burst from his eyes, too. Like a well that has been run dry bubbling up with new water again. And Seungmin feels alive again. 
Hyunjin moves to pull Seungmin’s frail body into his welcome and warm embrace, holding him close while rocking him back and forth and back and forth like a baby. There might be some truth to it since Seungmin feels as though he has been reborn. Breathing for the first time after coming from darkness into the light, weeping and crying, feeling as bare as a newborn, completely stripped off, when everything is new and fresh and intense and just too much. 
This was just too much, but the tighter Hyunjin holds him the more memories return to Seungmin. Those of a life that had been, of love and struggles, of difficult decisions and promises. A life full of ups and downs, lefts and rights and every ugly emotion he felt in his life. And now that he remembers why he had been at this place, in this purgatory, and knows what it had been for, *who* it had been for. It all feels worthwhile. 
And frankly, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
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natjennie · 2 years
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because. because. like. and the thing is. it's about. the fact that. because... izzy and stede were both making decisions for ed. they both put words in the mouth and thoughts in the head of the blackbeard that only existed in their minds to make it more palatable for themselves, rather than finding joy with the ed that is right in front of them. and that instinct, to make decisions for someone without even letting them try, comes from so much self-hatred and mistrust. a blatant misunderstanding of the reality of the world around you, a negative self-perception so all-encompassing that it warps your brain beyond rational thought.
izzy decided blackbeard's fate, came up with a persona that made sense, that had boundaries and rules, punishment for wrongdoings and rewards for good behavior, and wanted so badly to stick to that that he couldn't see that it wasn't ed anymore. he knew where he belonged when ed was blackbeard, knew what the limits were, knew what to expect. and without that iron fist he'd fall apart. and he thought that was how ed felt too, saw this loose and free edward and perceived it as failure, as coming apart. because izzy crumbles without that violent structure, and seeing someone else live more truly without it is incomprehensible.
and stede believed so wholeheartedly that ed's evolution was a fall from grace. bolstered by legend and myth, he believed blackbeard was who ed wanted to be too. despite all evidence to the contrary. despite ed coming out and saying that he was tired of it, that he wanted something different, stede couldn't help but see a life like his own as one lesser than a life like blackbeard's. which of course makes sense because what has he been told time and time again if not that this dandy softness is wrong and shameful, that he needs to toughen up, to face the real world. so obviously when ed starts acting, for all intents and purposes, softer. when ed is finally free, stede thinks he's poisoned him. stede thinks he's dragged blackbeard down to his level, scrubbed away all that was worthwhile in a man and all he's left with is a weak-hearted soft-handed lily-livered little rich boy. and ed doesn't deserve that fate.
and he doesn't even realize, neither of them do, that in doing what they thought was right for ed, they never gave him a chance to live how he wanted to. their individual preconceptions about what is right and wrong in this world made them blind to ed's actual happiness. in attempting to conform to this manufactured ideal state of being, they ignored the real ed right in front of them!!! of course ed has no choice but to think. well if no one is going to let me do what I want while I'm edward, blackbeard it is. at least blackbeard is listened to, respected. blackbeard always wins. YKNOW?!
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Only For You
Egotober Day 11: Game
“Hey ya know, I can record for you today.” Chase rolled his eyes as Jackie sat next to him. “I know you weren’t feeling well last night, so why don’t you take the day off and I’ll record for ya.”
Chase sipped his morning coffee, pulling the blanket closer to his chest pretending he didn’t hear Jackie’s comment. He scrolled through his phone, finding the latest Twitter drama a lot more interesting than whatever Jackie could offer him.
“Chaser, come on man.” Jackie groaned, poking Chase’s arm. “Don’t ignore me.” Chase placed his coffee down on the table, his patience growing thin. His hangover migraine was worse than normal and he just wanted to do his job and go back to bed. He pocketed his phone before picking up the blanket and walking away.
“Chase. Hey. I saw the video. Can we please just talk?” Chase froze in the middle of the hallway. Shit. Shit. Shit. He thought he deleted that video. No one was supposed to see it! Was it still up? Fuck. 
He didn’t mean to spill his guts out to the camera, it just kinda happened. Everything in that game was so raw. It was like that game was reaching into his soul and plastered all his deepest insecurities on the screen. Every day was the same, nothing ever changed. He smothered the emptiness with starvation and alcohol, a stupid, desperate attempt to feel something.  But nothing ever came. Jack was in a coma, Henrik was gone, and his own wife took his kids and won’t give them back. 
“Chase, hey. Chaser-Racer. Come on man, you gotta talk to me.” Jackie’s hand gently grabbed Chase’s shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. How long had it been since someone last touched him, showed him any sort of physical affection? His best guess was the last time he saw his kids three weeks ago, but that was such a brief fleeting moment. “Chase.”
The tenderness in Jackie's voice caused a flood of tears to rise in Chase’s eyes. He was so used to anger in his ex-wife’s voice. Hostility in the comments. Marvin’s snarky remarks. The judgmental cashier at the liquor store. But here Jackie was, being so kind and using the softest voice he could muster. 
“I-I don’t know what happened. I didn’t drink that much.” Chase mumbled, his eyes focusing on the ground. “I didn’t-I didn’t mean to post that video, I don’t even remember doing it! I privated it the second I woke up and-”
Chase's words were cut off the second Jackie pulled him in for a nice, warm hug. Chase clung to the red hoodie as tears finally came out. Chase pressed his body into Jackie’s, needing to be as close to Jackie as humanly possible. 
“Jackie I didn’t mean to-I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I know I put us in danger.” Chase stammered through every excuse he could think of. Any reason for Jackie to stay with him. Stay here and protect him.
“Chase, I say this with all the love in my heart, shut the ever-loving fuck up. You had a bad day and made a mistake. I’m not mad. Just, take a break man. Let me record today while you go and visit Jack. Okay? It’s been a while since you went to say hi.” 
Chase shook his head into Jackie’s chest. Recording was the only thing he was good at. It was the only thing that made him worthwhile. That's the only reason Jackie and Marvin put up with him. It was his purpose, his worth. If Jackie took that away from him, he wouldn’t have anything. 
“Chaser, let me do this for you. I’m so worried about you. Chase, please.” Jackie breathed. Chase swore he could feel his older brother's tears hitting his scalp. Chase silently cursed himself under his breath. How dare he hurt Jackie like that. How dare he make Jackie cry over his selfish move. How dare he manipulate Jackie into caring about him that much. 
Chase's chest shook as he attempted to get oxygen into his lungs. He distantly felt Jackie’s thumb brush over his beard, a silly habit he had developed when he was first created. Chase’s lips pulled apart, forming a small soft smile. His eyes glanced up at Jackie’s, wanting, needing his big brother's support.
He had forgotten how beautiful Jackie’s eyes were. Beautiful blue iris’, full of promise and hope. Eyes that had made endless promises of love, of kindness, of life, and hope. Jackie had fulfilled every promise he had ever made to him.  
“Take a break, for me,” Jackie whispered. Chase nodded as he leaned into Jackie’s gentle touch. His big brother had done so much for him, if this could be the thing to make Jackie happy he’d do it. He’d find a different way to provide, to be useful. 
“Okay. Okay, Jackie. For you. For you. Only for you.”
Prompt by: @tracobuttons
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