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sm-baby · 4 months

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The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

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

Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them.

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied.

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy?

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him."

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap.

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options.

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious.

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option.

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body.

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.."

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle.

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy.

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him.

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her…

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered.

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull.

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again!

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence…

The blue Brother stared.

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time?

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text.

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least."

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings.

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine.

She'll be fine.

She's fine.

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened.

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up.

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe.

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company."

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared.

Snap!

Blip!

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one.

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up…

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

“ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice. -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm. - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend. - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door.

*(Take items?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni. I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance. -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian…

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game?

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game…

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire.

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet.

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-"

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine…

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-"

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table.

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest.

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… "

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this…

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since…

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking. The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL."

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure.

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

> Talk

> Say nothing

>Talk

*(Talk about…)

> Place

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.”

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother.

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh?

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf. The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say??

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…”

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form.

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death!

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “ I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word.

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down.

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?"

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief… at this point he was almost over it…

Was that really it?

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because…

Because…

Oh heavens how embarrassing.

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog…

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair…

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him.

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself.

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?"

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time…

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care.

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated…

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself.

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something…

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great..

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there.

she would read the signs

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2

|| Note: consider more coloring options for the tent. -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta

||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance. -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over.

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?"

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?"

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?"

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy."

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable.

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus…

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride.

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door.

“ A moment alone."

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair.

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy.

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate.

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “

The brushing stopped,

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze.

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well.

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked.

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure.

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business.

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled…

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear."

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued.

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks."

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened.

Caine moved closer to the door. “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head.

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan.

This isn't over yet.

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the-emeralds-incorrect · 4 months

Text

Barty Crouch Jr — perception

Barty has a certain reputation around the school — on one hand, his father’s the head of DMLE and he’s from a prominent Light family, but on the other, he’s a Slytherin and best friends with the likes of Rosier and Black, known from being old and Dark families.

He’s also impulsive, and often gets into fights. He’s always arguing, quick to draw his wand, and rumoured to dabble in Dark Arts; in his fifth year, when he hits fifteen, almost nobody dares to cross him. The teachers don’t like him, and Filch outright seethes every time he sees him. He has gotten into detention more times than anyone can count, but never for a long time — he can keep his worse deeds quiet, after all.

After OWL results get released, nobody knows what his are. Half of the castle is quite shocked he didn’t get kicked out for failing every class, but the teachers start taking longer glances at him.

That passes after a few months, when every one of them realizes his record-breaking results will not transfer into him putting any actual work into class. Barty has an infuriating habit of not turning in homework, but since Hogwarts only counts in the end year exams for passing the class, they can’t do anything else than put him into detention for one more afternoon, and they gave up on that method around his fourth year, when it became clear it wasn’t working.

All in all, he’s pretty respected in his house, and very much feared in the others. He enjoys his reputation. He knows it infuriates his father, which is always an appreciated bonus, and will establish himself as trustworthy amongst the Dark families. His friends can vouch for him, but Barty likes having a guarantee.

Nobody knows how he and Regulus fall into the same bed — first after nightmares, even in first year, when both of them needed every bit of comfort they could get, then after Sirius leaves and Regulus wakes up in the middle of the night screaming, and finally every single night, and Barty can finally bury his face in Regulus’ neck and breathe in his scent and think /he’s mine and only mine, forever/. On the other side of the room Evan laughs at them, mutters something about them finally stopping pining after years, but Barty knows he’s genuinely happy for them. They leave the empty bed in case either Dorcas, Pandora, or both want to stay the night.

Nobody knows what his plans are after Hogwarts. He aced his OWLs, the first 12 O’s in the history of the school — he guesses he should be proud of that, but really, he did it because he was bored — and to beat his father’s 10 O’s and 2 EE’s. Nobody knows how many NEWTs he plans to take, and neither does he. He will most likely decide last minute, just like he did before. Nobody knows how quickly his brain memorizes knowledge and forgets the most basic deadlines.

Nobody knows how his father treats him, how he treated mama when she was alive. Nobody knows how the ring on his right middle finger was once hers, a promise ring she got from her family before they all died, before she had to leave the country, before she got married and wasted her life. Nobody knows she taught him her language, how he calls Regulus kochanie just as she called him, with love dripping out of every single letter.

Nobody knows, except him and his friends. They know.

They know the way he lets Regulus and Evan rant about quidditch despite having no passion for the sport himself. How he can duel freely with Dorcas, because they’re always on the same level, how they keep track of who won and how they’re almost always tying the score. How Pandora tells him about her most recent experiments, asks him to help her with the next one — meaning to help him steal the ingredients needed for potions from Slughorn — and how he always agrees.

And he’s more than fine with all of that. Barty Crouch Jr likes his secrets and will continue to have them. He will keep it secret when he murders his father with his friends by his side. He will keep it secret when he threatens Sirius no-longer-Black with the Cruciatus curse if he ever dares to hurt Regulus’ feelings again, even show his face to the current Black heir. How he will make Regulus the current Black Lord if his parents dare to coerce him into doing something he will regret for the rest of his life for the sake of the family.

He will not, however, keep it secret when he marries his darling Regulus. He will not keep it secret when he exposes (after the bastard’s death) his father for every type of abuse that fell into their family. He will not keep it secret when he buries the name Crouch under the ground, and takes his husband’s.

Barty, as every (future) Black, has a flare for dramatics, after all.

#barty crouch jr #bartylus #the emeralds #slytherin skittles #regulus black #starkiller #I love them your honor #hp #harry potter #marauders era #marauders #dead gay wizards #barty x regulus #Evan’s character rants

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thiccweebtrash · 1 year

Text

Something Precious

Disclaimer: Art is not mine

Request from @wacky-nerdchick I really hope you like it!! Im so nervous!! 😁🫠

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

Questions began to arise about Sullivan's new found grandson. One of which was about his mother. So to help keep up appearances, you were appointed to be his "mom." Of course, like Iruma, you lived in the Sullivan household as the Chair Demons "daughter," and also like Iruma you were human. You took to the role very quickly, being the loving, nurturing, and very fearless mother for the young boy.

You were hired on at Babyls more so as Sullivan's secretary, he wanted you close being you were nowhere near as timid and cautias as Iruma. Not one bit. You were much bolder, unafraid of the fact you worked with and around demons that would devour you if they knew you were human. It wasn't uncommon for you and Kalego to go head to head especially when he would bad mouth your precious "son."

Balam would be the one to break off the fight. The man would throw you over his shoulder and speed off to his office where he'd lock his door and attempt to scold you about your position. Thanks to Iruma, he knew you were human.

"You need to be more careful!" He'd say, "do you understand the danger you could get into!" But the scolding never lasted long, all it took was one hug or a gentle hand grab, looking at him with your soft doe eyes and saying, "But you'd protect me, wouldn't you, Shichiro?" And the demon was basically putty in your hands.

Where most would run and hide from his skinship, you would happily accept it, and even return the gesture, which caused this great, fearsome looking demon to melt. When he'd place a hand on your shoulder, you would gladly place your hand over his. If he patted your head, you would lean into him, resting your head on his chest. You were fond of him.

It was the moment you saw him sitting in the school gardens, petting and playing with small demon rabits did your heart skip a beat. His gentle nature, the way your heart would flutter when he smiles at you, the way your skin tingles with heat when he touches you. It was no suprise you developed a deep crush on him, and you believed he felt the same. The way he'd seek you out in the crowded halls, the way his hand would brush yours before he tangled his index and middle fingers with yours. He would schedule times during lunch a few times a week to talk about differences in humans and demons and the world's they lived in. He wanted you prepared and safe by understanding more about the Netherworld.

Today however, was going to be different.

All morning you had preped yourself, giving your self a good pep talk that you would take it an extra step further. You did one last small spin in your full length mirror, happy with the white sundress covered in a light green leaf pattern that you chose to wear before heading off to the school.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your eyes never left the clock, causing time to seem like it was dragging on. When lunch came around, quickly you darted from your desk to Balam's office, giving his closed door a small knock. "Come in." He deep voice rang, making a smile grow on your face which only widened when you see him sitting at his desk, his drawing pen in his hand and a half finished picture book laid in front of him.

"(Y/n!) Let me make some tea!" He nearly jumped from his desk, the action causing him to bump the desk and things to fell to the floor. "Here, please sit, I'll clean this quick!" He gestured to one of the stools by his book shelf. But while he was distracted with picking things up off the floor, you made your way to him. You can do this, you told yourself, you can do this!

You slowly bent down next to him, gulping. Your heart was pounding in your chest, for a second you thought it would burst. Your hands were shaking as you reached for him, eyes fluttering shut. It's nothing huge, just a small kiss on the mask is all.

It was when your hands cupped his cheeks and lips made contact with something soft and warm, instead of cold metal did your eyes snap open. In the midst of picking things up from the floor, his mask must have fallen off, and instead of it, you were actually kissing him, his lips, his scar, his fangs. His wide eyes were on you and in a moment you jumped back. "I... I'm sorry, i... uh..." Your face definitely was putting the color red to shame. Flustered you quickly turned and left his office, face to the floor, to afraid to meet his gaze after such an embarrassing moment.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days where awkward, you avoided the halls, his classroom, him. You even held your tounge with Kalego. Your akward behavior even grabbed your "son's" attention. "Is everything okay, uh, mom?" Iruma asked. "Yes, i'm fine dear, just a bit anxious!" You lied, he looked more surprised then worreid now. "You? Anxious? But how, your so bold!" You pat his head with a smile, "Hey now, even the bravest of people can feel scared to ya know."

Guilt had began to take over as you couldn't help but think how you possibly ruined what you and Balam had. You knew how slightly self conscious he was about himself with his mask off, and how he wore it so he wouldn't look as ferocious and wouldn't scar away students and creature he loved to pet and hold. However you could only imagine how he felt when you ran out on him without an explanation.

It seemed he too was avoiding you being he never called nor texted you since the kiss. You hadn't even caught one glimps of him like you used to, not even around Kalego. Did he hate the kiss? Did he dislike you? Did he not think of you like that? Did be want to eat you more now? Does he think you fear him because of how you ran away? Your mind was a frenzy, so much so you hadn't noticed the figure closing in from behind you as you walked down the hall.

With a sudden gasp, you felt yourself being pulled into a near by room. Before you could scream you hear a familiar voice. "It's okay, it's okay, it's me." Wide (y/c/e) eyes met his, red beginning to dust your face. "B... Balam!"

"I've been looking for you, I was worried someone found out you were human and got you. But I found you. But that's because i followed your human scent. Did you remeber your purfume today?" One of his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close against his chest while the other brushed hair behind your ear. Without thinking you quickly blurted, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't afraid of you or you without your mask I just... I meant to kiss you on the mask and when I kissed you i... I got scared that you would be upset or you didn't feel the same and...."

His free hand pulled his mask off while you stammered on. Balam silences you when his mouth pressed to yours. Your eyes widened a moment before closing. Your body moving on its own and pressing more into him, one of your hands resting on his chest. He pulled away first and held you close. Feeling his tight hold on you had you feeling weak. Never had he held you like this, normally it was gentle touches or soft hugs, but this was different. His hold on you right now reminded you of someone holding something they never wanted to lose.

"I... I'm sorry, I thought you'd hate me after what I did, so I..." you stopped when you felt his forehead press against yours. "I could never hate you (y/n). You're very precious to me." His words made your stomach flutter, your legs nearly giving out when he took your hand in his, interlocking his large fingers with your tiny ones, your body pressed more into him from the weakness that came with the wave of relief that flooded over you. "Y... your precious to me too." You sighed, pressing your face more into his chest and wrapping your arms around him the best you could.

Suddenly you felt a cool mist hit your skin and jumped back a bit. In Balam's hand was a spray bottle, "Sorry, but I don't want anyone else picking up on your scent." Balam said, scratching the back of his head. You smile and eagerly take his hand in yours. "Let's go, you'll be late for your lesson."

"S...shichiro?" The familiar and shocked voice of Kalego turned you both to stone.

#shichiro balam #balam x reader #hes our cute bird boi #welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun x reader #mairimashita! iruma kun #fanficion #balam sensei

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wannab-urs · 8 months

Text

Faulty System

Graphic: Old Friends by James R. Eads

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader (i don’t really specify gender here, but the reader is afab in prior installments)

Summary: It’s easy to let all the bad parts of being with Dieter obscure the beauty of who he was. You try not to. WC: ~900

Warnings: // in order // drug and alcohol use, Major Character Death (in the past), talking to your toxic mother, excessive cursing bc that’s how I talk sorry, discussion of mental illness, discussions of like idk… physical deterioration due to mental health and drug abuse, implied sex dream turned nightmare, no happy ending, trauma dumping (not in the fic, that’s just what I’m doing)

A/N: Thanks to @theywhowriteandknowthings and @atinylittlepain for reading and discussing with me <3 eternally fucking grateful to y’all. This fic is based somewhat loosely on the song Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan, which is about watching someone you love become a ghost of themselves due to addiction. I know very few people want to read a pairing//x reader fic where the other half is dead, and I really appreciate all of you who read and love my Dieter fics. I don’t know how I can ever describe how it feels to have someone tell you they read the darkest parts of your soul and found something good in it. Love y’all. also i should probably wait to post this but i have no self control :)

Series Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you

A late night walk, something you do to get him out of the apartment. Giggling as you slip the hastily rolled joint from his teeth. You press it to your lips and draw acrid smoke into your lungs, push it back out into the humid air and walk through a haze of your own creation. You’re drunk, maybe. High, definitely. Dieter wraps his arms around you from behind and you awkwardly waddle-walk down the sidewalk, tangled up.

He presses a kiss to the space behind your ear and you scrunch your shoulder up, shrugging him away. “Fuckin tickles!” You squirm away from him and break into a run, tossing the joint behind you, laughing and squealing as he chases you. You skid to a stop behind your usual tree in the park. Press your back into the bark. “I see you, baby. Can’t hide from me.”

You make a break for it. A stumbling, stuttering start and his arms are around you in a flash, pulling you to his chest as he hits the ground on his back. Howling hyena laughter ringing in the quiet midnight air. He kisses you, sucking all the air right out of your lungs, breathing it back into you. You separate only to turn in his arms and crash back into him, hands fisting in his curls, bodies pressed together down to your toes. He makes you dizzy, a little sick, disoriented.

You flop onto your back next to him, staring at the night sky awash with stars as you fight to catch your breath. You get quiet, gazing at the stars. He asks why. “Just thinking.” He waits for you to continue, knows to let you work it out first.

“You burn so fucking bright, Dee. It lights up the whole sky.” He smiles and brings your hand to his chapped lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

You don’t tell him he’s like the stars you learned about from that space documentary you like to fall asleep to. They burn incredibly hot and bright. More than any other star. And then they burn out. They’re quick about it. They light up the night sky for this infinitesimal amount of time compared to something like a red dwarf. And then they’re gone, collapsing in on themselves and taking anything unlucky enough to be caught in their orbit with them.

“Only for you.”

You were a work of art That's the hardest part

A meeting with your mom, a year and change after. She’s sitting in his seat, probably doesn’t even realize. You can’t look at her, your eyes flicking between your untouched tea and the window. So many days spent lying under that tree, just across the street. Tugging each other by the hand into this coffee shop. Curling up in the booth and talking for hours.

“I honestly don’t get why you’re still so upset. You were together for less time than it’s been since…” She trails off, not wanting to actually say the words. Since he died. “He hurt you. He’s still hurting you. He wasn’t good for you.” She says it matter of factly, like it’s common knowledge.

“Don’t fucking tell me he wasn’t good for me. You don’t know that. No one fucking knew him like I did. No one even gave him a chance. I had to watch this brilliant man turn into a goddamn ghost in front of me and no one else even gave a shit.”

“He turned you into a ghost too.”

You drag your palm across your face, smearing tears into your hairline.

“The sad part is – we were fucking gorgeous together. It wasn’t always bad, you know? He made me feel alive and beautiful and fucking… real. Like no one ever had before. He was incredible. He was so fucking smart. Kind, talented. Wonderful. He was wonderful.”

Trace the outlines of your dreams You'll always be a flower on my skin

A dream, a memory maybe. A blur of white sheets, dark curls tinged with blue paint. Gasps and sighs. Lips and tongue and teeth everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Eyes you never quite catch a glimpse of. Every feeling fleeting and just out of reach. Indents of fingers on your skin, dragging rough down your legs. These you feel. Hooking into you and nearly pulling you with him as he slips away. You swear you wake up with bloody streaks down to your calves. God it fucking hurts.

Watching him slowly kill himself, knowing it was happening, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, that was the hardest part. Towards the… the end... Fuck. When lucidity completely escaped him, he was scared. Terrified of himself and everyone around him. In his rare moments of clarity he was always so bitter, so angry at himself for not being what you needed. He punished himself. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t speak. You think you hated him a little, by the end.

Still. You don’t think you’re ever getting him out of your system. There was too much good in him to not forgive him for the bad. The rotten, broken, crumbling part at the center of him that took him from you. You watched him fall in on himself and you did nothing about it. Could do nothing about it. Helpless.

You cross that county line I promise to be there this time, alright?

–-------------------

Series Masterlist

-------------------

Thanks for reading <3

I don't really do tag lists anymore usually but:

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @mandoisapunk @amanitacowboy @pamasaur @cool-iguana (and I'll just drop a link to the rest of ya <3)

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fan fiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedrostories #dieter bravo x f!reader #the bubble fanfiction #Spotify

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seraphiism · 1 year

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❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 ( 𝐩𝐭. 𝐯 ) ;

( HOW DELICATE LOVE IS, THIS EBB & FLOW OF SERENITY. )

characters : alhaitham / kaveh / dehya fandom : genshin impact quote cr : title from juniper vale - the expanse pt. i / ii / iii / iv

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

& LOVE IS A DISASTER, EXISTING IN BOTH MIRACLE AND CURSE INTERTWINED. how she embeds herself in the depths of the heart, spreads with each beat as reminder that you are alive and you are in love. in the days that pass, the blood in your veins burns with the fervor of longing ; the confessions remain stagnant, words of affection lodged in your throat yet dancing on the tip of your tongue. they taste bittersweet, taste like dreams of peace and quiet serenity, taste like something that leaves you desiring more yet can never be satiated.

yes, love is a disaster : inescapable, undeniable, and it is what brings you to this moment, your weight on alhaitham's desk, his hands planted firmly by your sides as he maintains a nearly nonexistent distance between your bodies.

it almost feels like you are suffocating, this feeling here and now, and you wonder if love is supposed to feel this way. you hold your breath, feel the way your lungs burn in protest. something in you wishes to break free, release from this hold, but you resist, succumb to your fear of what could be.

"stop looking at me like that."

his lips twitch-- a subtle smirk you don't quite catch, followed by something all too knowing in his sharp gaze.

"like what? i'm only making an observation."

"it's past your work hours and you don't like making small talk. what do you want?"

"your honesty, firstly."

with your normal banter, he expects you to call him infuriating, irritating-- something along those lines. but there is a reluctance that paints a vulnerability on your countenance, a quelled fear, and so he shifts slightly, rests his hand on yours in a rare act of encouragement and patience. it is a strange weakness that binds you together in this time -- the still air, the understanding in each others eyes-- and your body moves on instinct in the way it draws closer to him-- closer, closer, and closer until your lips press against his in desire. you do not know how long this time lasts, overwhelmed with the knowing of his touch and the feeling of his hand against the small of your back as he holds you tighter.

yes, love is a disaster : inescapable, undeniable, and it is what brings you to this moment, confessions told and yet unspoken, and when you are both ready to confess the words of love, you will.

but for now, alhaitham thinks, chuckling at the way he feels you smile against his lips, this is sufficient enough.

↬ kaveh ࿐ ࿔

& BEAUTY IS IN THE EYE OF THE BEHOLDER, BUT LOVE IS IN THE HEART OF THE DIVINE, and so there is a worshipping in the way another's existence is a blessing. you know this love to be true in the way it flows through your veins, becomes one with the blood that keeps you alive.

the hand that rests in yours is calloused, worn with craft and devotion to the creation of art. you hum a gentle lullaby, absentminded, a blithe smile on your lips as you watch kaveh blink slowly, unable to fight the heaviness that falls upon his eyes. how exhausted he has been, surviving on so little sleep in the past few weeks.

deadline upon deadline, the pushing of one's strength and stamina during the late hours, and the shedding of tears in frustration in self-doubt and seldom potential in oneself. there is not much you can do for your lover in those times ; try as you may, your wisdom is unmatched to his when it comes to his profession. the only thing you can do is hold him in the nights he manages to find his way to your bedroom, and even then, you do not feel that it is enough. it never is, you think, but he is quick to tell you otherwise, even if his smile is worn the next morning you rise together.

no, there is not much you can do during those times, but it is after that you show him what he is worth, show him what he reflects in the divinity he places in his art.

your fingers trace the lines of his palm, delicate, slow. you note the few scars that adorn his skin, intrigue piqued in the nature of their origins. you do not ask, though, the silence between two lovers too heavy, deafening yet so heard and understood.

when you gaze upon kaveh, the sight that greets you is truly nothing uncommon, yet you find adoration in it nonetheless : the lack of words, the red hues in his cheeks nearly akin to the color of his brilliant eyes. you pull his hand, gently coax him towards you as your arms wrap around his neck. you press a kiss against his nose, rest your forehead against his, and he surely hopes you cannot hear the beating of his heart. it races so, pounds so violently with a love that cannot be contained.

"you worked so hard." you whisper, and it is then that his tears fall, wiped away by your touch. "i'm proud of you, kaveh."

↬ dehya ࿐ ࿔

& THE WALLS HAVE COME CRASHING DOWN, FALSE PRETENSES OF LOYALTIES RENDERED ASUNDER. a mercenary professes patronage to those who pay high coin, knows the allure of the risks worth taking. she does not follow as blindly as she makes it out to be, the purifying flame, and in the ashes left from the fire, there is only benevolence.

the wounds are nothing new, but she is not numb to the pain. they decorate her body, scattered haphazardly. your blood runs cold at the thought of loss, at the thought of all she has endured, but she has always broken you from such heaviness, rescued you before you fell down the rabbit hole.

you wrap the bandages around her arms, movements slow when you notice her wince from the painful sensations that hit harder than they should. she should be used to this by now, really. a mere hit should not be enough to hurt her this much, but when she looks into your eyes, she does not know if it is truly the physical pain of the steel that has found home in her flesh or if it is the pain you fail to keep at bay.

time after time, home away from home, you sometimes feel that you can never win. what a selfish thought it is ; you have given yourself grief over it so many times before, but you are only human, and what is humanity if not for the longing of it all?

there is a heartache when she comes back to you and a heartache when she is away from you. it is not a suffering, no -- you will not deem it as such, but you wish you could go with her, experience high tales of adventures yourself. but you cannot, so you wait, hope that your lover will return to your arms in the safest way possible.

because you are her sanctuary and she is yours, and you both know this so very much.

"always patching me up." dehya murmurs halfheartedly, and when you catch sight of that wistful gaze, her visage twists into something else, almost unreadable for a moment before she smiles at you. "not a pleasant welcome home gift, is it?"

"i don't mind it."

"liar." she pinches your cheek, laughs at your words of protest. "i know how sad it makes you, seeing me hurt like this." her tone turns somber, the smile dejected, and she places her hands over yours. "i'm sorry."

"don't apologize. you can't help it." there is a lump in your throat and the words threaten to choke you, but you speak nonetheless. you grab her hand, press a kiss against it before you rest it on your cheek. "as long as you come home to me, that's all i need."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #dehya x reader #.: writing #.: multi #i Love them all i cherish they .........

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morphaeus · 10 months

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ANNACHRONISMS writeblr reintroduction

— about;

hello! I've recently had an unexpected break from tumblr, but as I'm finally back, I thought I'd write a new intro post. My name is Anna; I'm 32, non-binary, and my pronouns are they/she. I'm a caffeine addict, a vegetarian, a college student, a gamer, and a writer. I live in the midwest, and I'm neurodivergent and disabled.

I write mostly speculative fiction, and my protagonist are typically queer. At the moment I'm not posting my stories anywhere, but I'm exploring several options to do so eventually. I'm also in the process of writing and coding two interactive stories. You can find out more at my development blog, @morpheusfiction.

I'm always looking for more writeblrs to follow and more new authors to read, so please interact with this post so I can check out your blog!

— links;

about // wips // twitter // spotify // ao3 // ko-fi

— works in progress;

saltmate;

Sadie Nelson's summer is off to an awful start.

Her first year in high school has been a disaster, with failed classes and more detentions than she'd care to admit. With summer school the only thing to look forward to, she doesn't think it can get worse - until her parents sit down and tell her they're getting a divorce. The news comes as a devastating kind of relief. She can't wait for the fighting to come to an end, even if it means split holidays.

So when her parents send her off to her aunt's house in Newfoundland for the rest of the summer, she figures things can't get much worse. Her Aunt Claire is content to leave her alone while she works on her art, and Sadie spends most of her days by the seaside, wandering or drawing boats, and lost in thought.

When she finds a strange girl on an abandoned cove, far from town, Sadie is quick to try and make her first friend in St. Brenden's Bay. But her new friend is stranger than she realizes - and what does her Aunt have to do with her appearance?

empyrean eclipse;

Dr. Hazel Hartley-Pryce is what most people refer to as a genius. The leading cybioengineer in the paradisaical city of New Eden, she’s revolutionizing the very concept of prosthetics. At least, that’s her day job. Most of the time, she’s just Zelle Pryce, awkward and unknown heir of an oil empire trying to make up for her family’s myriad sins.

Lark Donaghue lost their arm and their memory in an accident five years ago — or, at least, they think it was an accident. Ever since, they’ve been doing their best to recover in both mind and body. As one of the recipients of the Hartley-Zimmer prosthesis, they spend most of their time in the labs having their new arm calibrated, or in physical therapy, getting used to having a left arm for the first time.

When they bump into each other in the hospital café, Zelle has no idea that Lark is one of her test subjects. Likewise, Lark doesn’t associate the cute young doctor he meets with Dr. H. Hartley, the mysterious billionaire scientist who invented their prosthesis. Each are determined to keep their past a secret, eager to have something normal in their lives.

But when Zelle is attacked, everything changes. The mystery behind Lark’s amnesia might finally be solved — but at what cost?

wrong witch;

born into a family of witches, morgan has never shown a drop of magical power - no matter how much his mothers insist he has the inherent potential. he’s ready to give up on magic altogether, when, on his seventeenth birthday, he wakes up covered in blood, having sleepwalked into the nearby woods. suddenly, he has more power than he knows what to do with, and all of his dreams are coming true - but at what cost?

and why?

gabriel graves is a warlock, having traded his eternal soul for magic. when his family moves from bustling new york city to a small town in the midwest, he’s taken from his circle of power — his true family — and left alone. the citizens of ashborough, mi, are perfectly normal, and perfectly boring.

except, of course, for the mysterious delacroix family.

morgan and gabriel’s lives collide in the ashborough woods, as morgan seeks to discover the source of his newfound powers, and gabriel searches for a place to call his own.

#writeblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr intro #wip intro #wip introduction #wip #writing community #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #myintro #mine.

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sanjoongie · 1 year

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FFF~ Day 12

♡Pairing: Jung Yunho x Reader (f) ♡Genre: Smut with no plot :) ♡Au: boxer ♡Word Count: 1,630 ♡Warnings: nipple play (f and m receiving), hand job, San's a sneaky match maker (yunho walks into you changing, but you're into it), slight spit play, m orgasm, slight overstim ♡Rated: 18+ MDNI ♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Impregnation, KYS | Next Day~ Edging, CJH ♡Dedication: @mejuii I'm posting late and you're a godsend 😭

Yunho knew he was a pervert. He should have been practicing his jabs with the sandbag, just like his coach had set him out to do. Instead, he was staring a little slack jawed at the new addition to the boxing club, aka, you.

You were a little spitfire, but you hadn't lost a sparring match yet. Coach said that you had some temperament issues to work on but that you had promise.

If Yunho was a better man, he'd watch the way your footwork was a work of art or admire your quick punches that seemed to take your opponents out. Instead, he watched the way your sweat clung to your hairline, the dip of your waist between your ribcage and your hips. But most importantly, he was obsessed with your boobs.

Yunho would chew on his lip in thought, on the pretense of a break for a water bottle refill. His eyes would remain glued to your chest. His thoughts of how your tits were begging to be freed, with one swift tug and then they'd be bouncing. He imagined them swinging as you punched, fighting without a top on at all. Yunho spent half his practice time daydreaming about you… but you had no idea.

San did, though.

San was tired of sparring with Yunho when his head was in the clouds. San wanted to get better--and that required Yunho to be at the top of his game. So San decided that a little trick to push Yunho out of his daydream, and into reality, was in order.

"Coach said the pipes burst in the women's locker room," San said forlornly. "I checked the men's locker room, though. It's all clear. You can go ahead."

You smiled politely at San, "Thanks."

You settled into the locker room, getting undressed. You were in the middle of pulling your sports bra over your breasts when Yunho walked in. You weren't perturbed. You had flashed boys in school and the odd rock band member before. But Yunho was dumbfounded. Your boobs were even more perfect than he had initially imagined. The way you tucked them into your sports bra made him want to weigh them in his hands. And finally, your nipples were pert from being in the cool air.

"I don't suppose San stopped you from coming in," You asked with a quirk of your eyebrow.

Yunho shook his head. In fact, San had slapped him on the ass and said good luck before he had come in, which had baffled him, but it wasn't the first time San had slapped his ass before for no reason. Now he knew what it meant.

You sighed. "Well, I guess, since you've seen mine, you might as well show me yours."

Yunho was confused. "Show you mine?"

You crossed your arms, drawing Yunho’s eyes back to your breasts. "Your chest, Yunho. It's only fair, don't you think?"

Yunho lifted up his shirt hesitantly, not quite sure what you were getting out of this, but a good sport nonetheless.

You walked up to him, getting an eyeful of his chiseled pecs. "Not bad, not bad at all. Mind if I..?" You made a squeezing motion with your hands, and Yunho’s eyes widened. You wanted to grope him?

He swallowed, not sure if he was bold enough to say the words coming to his mind, but he pushed through anyways. "Only if I can yours."

"Done," You said without hesitation.

Your index finger traced the lines of his chest, appreciative of the silky muscles there. Then you cupped his pecs, squeezing and smiling when they flexed at your ministrations. You decided to be cheeky and flick your thumb over one of his nipples. Yunho groaned and then covered his mouth. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't--!"

"Didn't know you liked your nipples played with?" You asked coyly.

Yunho winced, "Not really."

"Wanna see if you like them licked?" You grinned up at Yunho.

Yunho nodded swiftly. He had no idea what he was getting himself into right now, but he was willing to wade into deeper waters if that meant his daydreams could come true.

You watched him as you took the tip of your tongue and played with the tip of his nipple. It pebbled as you did and Yunho started to get hard in his long shorts. No one had ever done this to him but he was starting to understand why women enjoyed it so much.

"Like it?" You asked as you stepped back.

"A lot," Yunho admitted.

You cocked your head at him, eyes watching as he let his shirt fall down and glimpsed his hard on. A lot indeed.

"You think San is doing us a solid and blocking anyone from coming in?" You wondered out loud.

Yunho scratched the back of his head bashfully. "I think he might."

You tipped your head towards the bench then. "I could lick your nipples while I give you a hand job." You shrugged, "Don't think your dick being hard would be a good idea if you intend to go back out there."

"But…" Yunho’s eyes moved back and forth in thought. He wanted to be the one to touch you, but instead, he was the one getting touched.

"Oh, I suppose I haven't let you do anything to me yet." You brought your thumb and forefinger to your chin in thought, "It's not gonna help your boner, unfortunately."

"If you're going to help me get rid of it," Yunho smiled eagerly, "What's adding more fuel to the fire?"

You tucked your fingers under the band of your sports bra, but Yunho stopped you. His dark eyes were on your bosom. "Let me. Please."

You nodded. "Go ahead."

Yunho peeled your top up and groaned as your boobs bounced. He let the weight of your breasts sit in the palms of his hands. He liked how warm they felt. Instead of flicking your nipples like you had his, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and he traced the areola of your nipple. He laughed airily as your nipple puckered for him. "Cute."

You watched, almost with new eyes, as Yunho pinched your other nipple between his finger and thumb and rolled it experimentally. That made you whine in the back of your throat.

Yunho shook his head as if in disbelief, when he said, "Your tits are so nice. And responsive." His eyes met yours. The look in them spoke as if he was sure you'd tell him no. "Can I suck on them now?"

Yunho was being sweet in this moment, and you secretly gave him points for that.

His lips parted, licking them tentatively before taking your nipple in his mouth. His pretty pink lips made an 'o' around your nipple, cheeks hollow to actually suck. The tugging felt good, but you groaned audibly when his tongue licked your nipple while it was in his mouth. Then Yunho decided with your neglected nipple to flatten his tongue and lick and lick and lick. The roughness of his tongue sent a shiver down your spine.

Yunho’s eyes glanced towards yours. "Are you getting wet from this?"

"Mhmmm," You hummed to him.

A flash of a satisfied smile flew across his face before he became serious once again. "Should we move to the benches?" His eyes flitted from yours to said bench. "Might be more comfortable for what you have in mind."

Yunho’s shorts were hanging off one of his ankles, legs spread, and his palms flat on the bench. His head was against the lockers, tossed backward as he lost himself in the pleasure you were giving him.

Your tongue was lazily playing with his nipple as your hand moved up and down his length. You were, in hindsight, a little happy you didn't offer a blow job because you were pretty sure you'd be choking on that dick. You paused licking his nipple to spit on his cock to add more lubricant, and then you settled your teeth around his nipple and pulled carefully. Yunho let out a loud groan and you took that as encouragement.

"So vocal for me, Yunho," You couldn't help but tease, "I'd play with you all day to hear the pretty noises coming from that mouth of yours."

"Fuck," Yunho cursed as your wrist twisted around the head of his cock, "I'm not sure just how much longer I can hold out."

You giggled. "I don't want you to hold out, Yunho. I want to get out there and start practicing. Hurry up and come!"

Moreover, to the point, you sped up your pace, tightened your grip, and played with his nipple with your tongue. Yunho groaned loudly, banging his head against the locker door. "Fuck fuck FUCK!" he swore and then he was coming all over his stomach and your hand. You stroked him until he whimpered and curled over from the overstimulation.

Yunho panted, eyes rolling at the pleasure he had just received. He swore he would thank San later for being a good wingman.

"That--!" His back bowed as you brought your mouth down to the head of his dick and sucked hard. His fingers dived into your hair and yanked your head back. "What are you doing?"

You smiled sneakily, "Just wonder how much farther you'd let me go." You licked your lips, "You taste good, Yunho. Been eating your citrus fruits?"

Yunho watched you walk out of the locker room, having grabbed a towel and wiped your hand with it. You threw it at San, who caught it with his good reflexes. His dimples flashed at you. "Have fun?" San quipped.

"Ask Yunho. Weren't you making sure his needs were taken care of?" Your hips swayed with confidence of a job well done.

"Who's taken care of you then?" San wondered under his breath, eyes following the sway of your hips.

♡Masterlist link~ | Previous Day~ Impregnation, KYS | Next Day~ Edging, CJH

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #thekpopuniverse #february filth fest #ateez smut #ღatz #topaz's work #ateez scenarios #atz smut #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader

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blot-squisher · 6 months

Note

Have you done an alphabet for Jeff? Jeff is my baby <3333

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game Jeffrey "Jeff" Johansen!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Jeff is very quiet with his affection. He shows it best in private moments and in soft, genuine ways. Don't be surprised to find a small painting on your table one morning, quietly left for you to find.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Jeff prefers solitude, but if you're comfortable with long stretches of not speaking and allowing music to fill the silence, you'll quickly become good friends.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) Jeff is often very touch averse. It's not that he doesn't like to hold his partner, but more that he's not comfortable feeling crowded. Stretching out together on the couch or on a blanket so he's got plenty of space is usually best.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) Jeff is used to the bachelor lifestyle and the responsibilities that come with it. That being said, his house is usually covered in paint, art projects in progress, and a lot of empty take out containers. He's unintentionally drunk paint water more than a few times.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Privately, and without malice. Even if the relationship ends on poor terms, he's not one to cause more bad blood or start a fight. He's seen enough of that and has no time for it in his life anymore.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) Although he would be willing to get married to the right person, it would be a very, very long road to get there. Jeff believes in taking his time, and a relationship as important as that shouldn't be rushed.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Usually very soft spoken, Jeff's hands are as gentle as his voice. He can and will fight if need be, but he'll always try to work things out without violence first.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Jeff will rarely instigate a hug and may even shy away from them if he's feeling overwhelmed. He's not a fan of crowds and dislikes the feeling of being mobbed. On the rare occasions he does hug, it's very easy to relax to the point of wanting to fall asleep.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) It'll take a while, but don't worry. It's not that he doesn't care or have feelings, he's just trying to find the right time and way to express himself.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Jeff expresses himself best through his art. Although he's not a terribly jealous person, when such feelings do arise he works it out through his favorite mediums. Art and music.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) Jeff enjoys taking his time, kissing his partner all across their body. He isn't particular about where he's kissed, really, as he prefers to be the one offering touch.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Jeff isn't overly fond of children simply because they (usually) have no concept of personal space or volume. He doesn't dislike them and would actually make a fantastic father, but he prefers to avoid other peoples kids.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Sitting on the porch drinking coffee as the sun rises. Or, if you're in the Pocket, sitting on the porch drinking coffee and watching the swirling void sky. Hey, inspiration is inspiration.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Sitting on the porch, but drinking home brewed beer. If he's not on the porch, he'll either be in front of his drawing pad, computer, or other canvas.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Honestly, it'll probably be at least a couple of years before you even learn his middle name.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Jeff may put on a mean face at times to keep people away from him, but he's actually rather calm and collected.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) So used to solitude, it can take Jeff a while to start remembering things. He's not doing it to be hurtful, he just isn't used to taking that kind of care of another person.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) The first time he told a joke and got a genuine laugh out of you. He wasn't expecting it, as he usually only told jokes to his dog. It's nice to get a positive reaction like that out of someone.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) Jeff is very protective over his loved ones, and if words don't work, he's not afraid to get into the fray. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt on his behalf, so if you can talk down a situation (or at least try before jumping straight to violence) it'll go a very long way in his book.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) It'll really just depend on the occasion and how far ahead of time he remembers it's coming up. Chances are he'll do something small and private though, even if it is a little late.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Jeff will go hyper absorbed in his work and lose time. How long has he been sitting in front of his computer? Has he eaten today? Has he slept? The answer is probably not...

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He's very picky about what kind of beard shampoo he uses, but other than that he's really not very concerned with his looks.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) Jeff is used to living alone, but if he lost someone that important to him, it would deeply and greatly affect him for a long time.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Jeff doesn't mind cats, but he greatly prefers dogs. Dogs don't tend to jump on tables, knock over paint water, or leave little paw prints all over drying canvas...

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Loud noisy people who don't respect personal space or alone time. He's not opposed to listening to his music at a slightly higher volume, but he still tries to keep it at a respectful level.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) What is sleep?

#surviving the game fic #sfw alphabet #jeff johansen #dbd jeff #writing thoughts

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phoenix-downer · 1 year

Text

With A Smile Chapter 2

~1550 words. Sora/Kairi. Starts during the end of KH3 and moves into KH4. Sora POV. Angst, Romance, Fluff.

This story is dedicated to @tamtam88, and the art is by her as well! Thank you again for drawing such a beautiful piece and providing such wonderful inspiration 🥺 ❤️

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Sora's life in Quadratum feels cold and empty until one day, he spots a girl wearing a familiar-looking hair clip that sparks his memory.

Life in Quadratum felt cold, empty. Like Sora’s heart was missing and he didn’t know what had happened to it.

He didn’t feel like smiling or laughing. Didn’t feel much like joking around either. There was too much going on. The Heartless had invaded this giant city somehow, and he was constantly fighting. There were so many people that needed protecting, that needed to be kept safe, and the Keyblade was the only thing that could do it. Which meant he was one of the only ones who could do it. His battles left him starving and exhausted, so when he wasn’t fighting he was eating or sleeping. His life was just one dull, repetitive, draining cycle with no end in sight.

What was his life like before he came to this place? He couldn’t remember. His memories were gone, torn out of his heart and scattered like broken chains to the four winds. In their place was a deep fog he was drowning in, blocking his mind’s eye and dulling his heart. Most days he felt like he was just swimming aimlessly through the fog, and today was no exception. He went through the motions because he didn’t know what else to do, and right now that meant grabbing a quick lunch.

He ducked into a Seven Eleven convenience store, hoping for nikupan or croquettes or onigiri. Maybe if he was lucky there would still be some good bentos left, but it was a gamble whether he’d be able to finish everything in time. Half the time he got interrupted when he was trying to eat. Enough people recognized him as “that guy with the giant key” and wanted to ask for his help or his autograph (sometimes both).

Thankfully, this time he was left to peruse the aisles. People were on their lunch breaks and wanted to get in and out so they could eat before they had to go back to work. That was the good thing about going to this convenience store: it was in Shibuya, which was such a busy part of Quadratum that no one really paid attention to the other people around them.

It all just felt really…lonely. He longed for human connection. Strelitzia was his only friend here, and she was more reserved and needed her space sometimes. He wondered if in his old life he had lots of friends. If he used to be more talkative and outgoing.

Thankfully his favorite type of bento box was still there. It had sliced and dried daikon, a piece of sausage, a croquette, fried chicken, tamagoyaki, mackerel, a little hamburg steak, and a fried veggie/meat roll, plus the usual rice, this time seasoned with red shiso flakes. He grabbed a bottle of green tea too and got in line. When at last it was his turn to pay, the convenience store clerk seemed to recognize him but politely carried out her job. Once his food was purchased, he went over to the white table and high chairs lined against the window to eat his food.

He didn’t really have anywhere else to eat unless he trekked all the way back to his apartment in Minami-Aoyama, so this was his best option. A couple of other people were seated on either side of him, and they both politely ignored his existence as they ate their food.

Wherever he was from, people talked to each other when they ate. Food was supposed to be a shared, communal activity. A way for friends and family to bond. That much he was sure of.

Frowning, he broke apart his wooden chopsticks and removed the plastic cover from his bento box. Eating was now a reminder of how lonely every aspect of his life was. He and Strelitzia tried to eat together in the evenings, but that was entirely dependent on how much fighting he had to do and for how long. Sometimes he didn’t get home until after midnight, and all he had energy for was passing out on his futon.

As he took a bite of the fried chicken, a small flash of yellow outside caught his eye. A girl with shoulder-length red hair was walking outside the store, wearing a long pink and black coat with a white blouse and black pleated skirt. The clip in her hair, it had a small, yellow fruit with a tiny green leaf on it. Something about that fruit was familiar—

She turned to look at him, her hair splashing against her cheeks. A gentle smile spread across her face, making her lovely blue eyes dance, like she knew a secret he didn’t and was teasing him about it. She was really, really pretty, and he felt the heat creeping up his neck and face. A cute blush dusted her cheeks, and as her smile got bigger, he swallowed and dropped his chopsticks.

She made a playful motioning gesture, and he left his food and went to the door.

“Sir, you’re forgetting your food!” the poor clerk called in the politest way possible, but he didn’t care. He had to go outside and meet that girl. Something about her was so familiar…

She was waiting for him outside with a shy smile on her face. “Hello,” she said, her boot-clad toes pointing inward slightly in a way that was absolutely adorable.

“Um, hey.” He rubbed the back of his neck. What was it about this girl that really drew him in? His eyes kept wandering to that little hair clip, something about it reminded him of home—

“Sorry, it’s just a lot to take in,” she remarked, her eyes roaming up and down him. “You’re taller and even more handsome than before.” She giggled into her hand. “It just doesn’t feel real, you know? I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long…”

“Sorry, do I know you?” It was a genuine question; she certainly seemed to know him, but he didn’t know her, and maybe he was supposed to. His heart certainly was telling him that. She felt so familiar, so right, and he wasn’t sure why.

Her lips parted, and a flicker of pain went through her eyes before they softened. “That’s right, they warned me you might not remember anything. It’s okay, I’ll help you get your memories back.”

“Tell me, how do I know you?” he pleaded. This girl certainly seemed to have all the answers to the questions that had been haunting him for months.

“We’ve known each other a very long time,” she replied, but her answer seemed cryptic.

“Am I in love with you?” he blurted out. His face turned bright red as soon as he did, but he couldn’t ignore what his heart was telling him.

She smiled sadly. “What do you think, Sora?”

His breath caught in his throat. With just one word, she’d cleared the fog shrouding his heart and mind, like the sun breaking through the clouds. The chains of his memories clinked back into place and made him whole again. His name, she knew his name, she knew everything about him, and he knew her.

“Kairi?” he said, barely above a whisper. As if saying it any louder would break this fragile hope he was taking a leap of faith on.

Tears filled her eyes, and she reached for his face. “I told you I’d come for you, didn’t I?”

He pulled her into his arms and held her as close as he possibly could. She’d kept her promise, she’d really come for him. She was really here, this wasn’t his imagination, this was real. Her warmth and scent and touch, her tears and joy and affection.

When at last they parted, she placed her hand on his chest, and he rested his hand over hers, bumping foreheads with her. Her smile was so big and so beautiful, and her tears were happy ones. He closed his eyes and sighed, savoring this moment, sharing his heartbeat with her in the hopes it would share his heart.

When at last he opened his eyes again, he asked, “There’s a really good cafe near here, wanna go with me?”

“Like on a date?” she playfully teased.

He grinned. “You know it is.” He rubbed the back of his head, remembering the fate of his poor bento box. “I kinda ditched my other lunch because I got so distracted by this pretty girl, and I’d really like to take her out. Besides, I told her I would if I lost that bet she made with me.”

“She’d like that very much,” Kairi replied. “There’s a lot she and this guy need to catch up on.” But then her smile fell, and her head drooped a little. “And…she wants to share a meal with him again.”

Her lip trembled and her eyes shone with tears, and his heart filled with compassion for her. Their time apart must’ve been so difficult on her. He at least had forgotten until now, even if his heart knew something was wrong; she was aware of his absence every agonizing moment.

“Then let’s go do that,” he said softly, holding out his hand.

She nodded and wiped her eyes, then took his hand. “Please, take me there.”

With a smile, he did just that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day everyone! ❤️

The description of Sora's bento box comes from here.

The moment when Sora sees Kairi through the convenience store window was inspired by this lovely piece of art by Tam.

And then the moment after Sora and Kairi hug was inspired by this beautiful piece.

Thank you again Tam for working with me and for providing such wonderful inspiration 🥺 🙏 And thank you all for reading!

#kingdom hearts #sokai #sora #kairi #sora x kairi #sora/kairi #tamtam88 #phoenix writes #phoenix-downer #kh fanfiction #sokai fanfiction #sorakai #sorakairi #long post #thank you again tam ❤️

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thelustybraavosimaid · 2 years

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A crowd was quickly gathering in the courtyard, the song of blades drawing the crown prince closer. He paused before the Kingsguard to see who was at the middle of it; it was his parents. Of course it was his parents.

Aemon smiled, taking his place between Ser Arthur and Ser Jaime, watching his mother's offensive attacks closely.

Her strikes are too heavy, Aemon thought as his gaze shifted between the king and queen. Not as effective against a man who's so quick and light on his feet. Learning from and duelling with Ser Arthur over the moons taught him much and more about the art of swordplay.

The King Rhaegar Targaryen moved as if he were some fabled warrior, weaving and bobbing and dodging, blocking and striking in lightning-quick movements. Aemon could only watch in awe.

"How long have they been at it this time?" He asked Ser Arthur.

"At least an hour, maybe a bit longer," Ser Jaime cut in, watching them practice with a gaze as intense as Arthur's, though a smile graced his face when Lyanna blocked another quick strike.

"You know how your parents are, my prince," he heard the deep tones of Ser Oswell behind him. "It'll be much the same tomorrow, I have little doubt."

"It's your stance and footwork," the good king told his wife and drew Aemon from his thoughts, sounding as if he had not broken a sweat. "They make it easy for me to deflect your attacks."

The Queen Lyanna struck again, clashing sword with sword, the blow so heavy that Aemon saw sparks fly even in the harsh midday sun. "I need them to be," she huffed, her exhales blowing through the spaces of her teeth. "How else can I learn about your stances and footwork?"

The heavier the strikes, the quicker it would be to break a block, Aemon knew. A few more of those and she may brute force her way to victory—if she hadn't worn herself out before the end of it. Before he thought she'd land another one, though, she abruptly broke away and circled him like a she-wolf on the prowl.

Rhaegar's indigo eyes were darkened by the heavy shadow casted by his long eyelashes, following her every move. His lips pursed, just as Aemon's had.

"You are studying me." It was not a question. Nor had she deigned to give an answer.

Instead she laughed, a breathless but low chuckle that made his king father falter for a moment. "Swing your sword, husband mine. Swing and fight."

She stepped in and met him.

Once, twice, thrice their blades kissed, sparks flying with every hit. Lyanna's eyes were alight with elation and laughter, filled with imminent victory as Rhaegar stumbled backward. Then he regained his footing and continued their dance, matching hit for hit before he gave a final underhand swipe from the back of his blade and disarmed her, rushing in close to rest the blunted sword at her throat.

Out the corner of Aemon's eye, he saw Ser Arthur nod his approval.

"You almost had me," he huffed, a smile of satisfaction creeping across his face. His eyes were low, full of a liquid, promised heat that Aemon was sure no one was meant to see.

"Next time, I will." Her voice had that defiant tilt, her chest heaving under the heavy leather. Her dark hair spilled from the tie it was in and framed her long face in soft waves. Stepping backwards from him, she opened her arms, smile widening. "Come and claim your winnings, my king."

He laughed, tossing his sword aside before he strode to Lyanna and gathered her in his arms. He dipped her down to meet his lips with hers, burying his fingers in her hair.

Aemon made a face, electing instead to watch the crowd disperse.

"We too should let them be," Jaime snorted, turning away.

"Yes," Ser Arthur agreed, then his violet eyes rested on Aemon as he arched a brown-black brow. "I believe it is now time for your lessons, my prince."

He inwardly groaned. His bruises still haven't healed from last week's series of lessons...

#asoiaf #jon snow #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaelya #fanfiction #ramble

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infernal-general · 5 days

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Fight talk on the dash *cough* @metaladam made me FINALLY write this post I've been wanting to in years.

War machine.

Rozália is an absolute, devastating all rounder when it comes to combat. Versatile in every way possible, if her hand to hand combat was to fail, she can fall back on weapon proficiency, if the situation gets worse she can spike it with her powers. If everything isn't enough, then comes the Hellfire as last resort of mass & raw destruction. She is extremely dangerous because she is both trained and by now in tune with her power.

Stats:

8'5 (260 cm) & weighs around 350 lbs (160 kg) of muscle and bone

15 years of general training regarding warfare & combat

Approximately 7-8 years of martial arts training

Honing, perfecting those skills over 170 years.

Can comfortably lift up to 400-460 lbs (180-210 kg), up to 660 lbs (300 kg) with effort; she doesn't risk going higher than that

Close combat: You don't want that to happen. One would logically think she is relying on her strength, instead the trick lies in acrobatics. Which brings to the first of many terrifying facts: she is fully in control of her body and bodyweight to be a taekwondo acrobat. Her physical strength isn't increased by any spell/magic/deal; she simply adapted to her height and weight in the afterlife with multiple training styles & heavy emphasis on own bodyweight training. Imagine the force her punch/kick can carry. Improvisation, adaption play a large role as well, she's versed in more than enough styles to mix them together as counter. No problems regarding endurance either, she's trained to participate in active warfare 24 hours straight, then oversee the damages, deaths, wounded, quick repair plans. Pain tolerance. That one stems from her terrific reaction regarding any substance; she hasn't taken any painkillers since the incident happened, worried how they would be amplified by her flawed system.

That left her growing almost comfortable with being in pain, making her tolerate almost ridicously high. And if it wasn't enough, that combined with her healing factor on steroids if the injury isn't from something angelic.

Her anatomy is perfectly designed for close combat: her feet are covered by armored plates with openings to allow desired mobility and flexibility with talons to not only bruise but shred with kicks:

Her horns are sturdy, sharp, tilted forwards and she totally impaled a few people before, making retaliating blows difficult if not outright dangerous to land

Her blood is liquid hellfire, so even if one succeeds in wounding her...well they are still getting the worst of it. A purely physical fight against her is rigged from the start due to her anatomy.

Still, there was one draw in her career: In the Viper club, where using magic in the ring is forbidden, against her own relative @phoenixborn who was generational traumatized by her existence & wanted to defeat her own literal demon haunting her since childhood. It wasn't because they were related and she let her off easy. But because Cindy, although not as durable but just as slippery and skilled, utilized joint locks and breaks. So Rozy couldn't really continue with a broken left knee and right elbow, healing would've taken too much time without her powers so...a very bregrunding draw. It wasn't the pain stopping her mind you. But the imbalance.

Armed combat: Almost as versatile as with her body and mindful of her surroundings, almost anything can be a weapon. That being said, her usual arsenal consists of her twin hussar swords (modeled after Polish winged hussar sabres), one blessed, one filled with and forged in Hellfire. Although traditional fencing isn't exactly how her style would be described, she still excels in as her own style with a sturdy base taught since early childhood.

Five short daggers with their grip, infused with her hellfire, therefore she is able to control the blades with her mind; faint crimson trails show the daggers' path. A silent, unexpected truly assassin weapon.

4.5 feet tall (54 inches), -not counting the hidden blades at the ends- recurve bow to cover long range. It also has a tiny scope above the grip which can be flipped out in case of using it very long range. The quiver of hellfire infused arrows is strapped to her right thigh; she is ambidextrous but prefers to handle this weapon with her right. Draw weight around 60-70lbs (27-31 kg). Perfectly able to handle heavier draw warbows as well as crossbows.

Thanks to her upbringing and the revolution Rozy is a great esquetarian, capable of precise archery from horseback along with the usual hussar techniques.

Modern guns, rifles, handguns are weapons she actually has a struggle using and would rather avoid. Along with more difficult/unorthodox weaponry such as zhua-iron claw designed to pull someone, off horseback, swordbreaker long daggers & hook swords. That she doesn't have enough experience with handling and/or effectively counter her own arsenal.

Hellfire: may god give you strength. You will need it.

#⚔ headcanon 🔥 | nem tudom mi vagyok; de tudom 𝐤𝐢 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐦 #There's a reason why Scott Adkins is her fight claim #Conclusion: she's a fucking Terminator till someone throws a bag of coke at her.#Yes; I know how this looks; but I'm more than flexible to plan out fight scenes.

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barrenclan · 1 year

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I AM STARING SO INTENTLY RN!!!

GOOODDD THIS ISSUE WAS SO INTERESTING. how after the sisters were separated and plumstripe just stared at the wall, i wonder if she’s beginning to regret lashing out like that? or if it could have gone differently? it definitely didn’t seem like she planned to fight beeface, just a spur of the moment sorta deal that was caused by bee edging her on, which in turn was caused by her edging bee on.

also, the redpelt content??? i hadn’t really thought about her in the comic much but oh my god. she’s so gentle. i completely understand how she felt when the fighting happened, just completely freezing up and struggling to process what is happening because it was so sudden, too quick, too different from just a second ago- but i could just be seeing it differently than what was intended, haha. when she was rambling off to cootstorm i was begging for that old lady to comfort her in some way but i completely understand why she didn’t, that’s just not her personality. she’s a realist i think, focused on what has to be done and what has been done. she’s right, redpelt isn’t ready for leadership, and i somewhat doubt she’d ever be if she doesn’t get some kind of help, but it doesn’t seem therapy or anything exists in barrenclan that could help. it makes me wonder why mallowstar chose her as deputy when she wasn’t mentally or emotionally ready for those responsibilities weighing her down? may have found a new fav, oops

also!! cormorantpaw!! said bye first!! it wasn’t started by someone else saying bye, he did it!! he’s enjoying pinepaw’s company!!! probably not to a crush level or maybe not even a friend level, but still!!!!! he’s opening up in his own way!! gradually!!! whatever makes him feel comfortable and he’s not rushing!!!! i love him i hope he gets all of the healing he needs cus i just know this guy needs it. also he and pinepaw r listening x infodump i may have said this already i love them

i also just want to add that i loved the four apprentices doodle at the bottom of i think page 2? also the expressions of bee and plum after mallowstar split them up. ur expressions have always been so good, both here and TDS, and such a good inspiration and they always just add to the moment cus of how clearly u can see how they feel cus of it!!! just!!! yeah!! i never know how to end these haha

I'm glad you liked it eheh!!

Plumstripe definitely wasn't planning to attack Beeface, but her fighting ability insult hit a nerve. Plumstripe considers herself to be the best fighter in the Clan, and she's very proud of that.

I've been neglecting Redpelt too much, I really wanted to get some focus on her. Poor gal. I looked at some videos of cats fighting for reference in this issue; it happens so much faster than anything in Warriors makes it seem, which is true of most fights in general. And Redpelt isn't the kind of take-charge person to instinctively throw herself in the middle of a fight, she's too much of an overthinker. Mallowstar sees a lot of potential in her, and he really wants to help her come out of her shell and show her that she can take charge and use all her smarts and empathy! But Redpelt doesn't believe in herself too much. :( Cootstorm doesn't have a lot of sympathy for her worries, unfortunately.

YES Cormorantpaw saying bye first was really important to me!! It's not much but a little first step is huge for him, especially because the environment he grew up in was emotionally as well as physically dangerous. He had to be on guard a lot. Pinepaw wants to break through his walls, but he's willing to take it at a pace Cormorantpaw is comfortable with, and that means a lot to Cormorant (more than he really realizes!).

TYSM I'm really glad you like the art :D I love drawing silly faces, it's my favorite part. And thank you, as always, for leaving such long thoughtful comments about the issues! I look forward to seeing them pop into my askbox.

#ask #redpelt #plumstripe #beeface #cootstorm #mallowstar #cormorantpaw #pinepaw

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moriihana · 1 year

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we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || eleven: i'm bad at mariokart but at least shigaraki is worse

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: you and shigaraki play some mariokart, then you guys fuck up overhaul bc he's a piece of shit and i hate him

content: angst and fluff

warnings: you scratch at your throat as an anxious habit (picked up from shig)

word count: 1749

a/n: shamelessly self-promoting MORE art i did of my self-insert but there's nugget and boo this time (i have no clue how to draw animals). also, idk how this reads bc basing things off of the actual episodes is real fuckin hard so if anyone has any feedback i'm happy to hear! also² i projected the fact i'm really bad at mariokart into this. bc uhhhhhh. im really bad at mariokart LMAOOO

*previously known as “we can’t fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)”; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they’re just being overall menaces

taglist: @iincandescenttt

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

“You think they’re okay?” You itched the front of your throat anxiously. “It’s been days and we haven’t heard from them.”

“Stop that,” Shigaraki snapped and paused the round of MarioKart, eyeing the blood welling up under your skin. “You always get on my ass about it, you don’t get to do it either.”

“Picked it up from you, dick,” you grumbled under your breath, but dropped your hand anyways. “But do you? Think they’re okay?”

“Whatever. They’re fine. Overhaul has probably limited their communication since we’re technically wanted criminals. Can we get back to the game now?” He huffed, scowling.

“I thought you didn’t like MarioKart and were only playing because I wanted to. I’d think you would be happy to take a break.” You shrugged.

“We’re not only playing it because you wanted to—” Shigaraki narrowed his eyes when you grinned at his arguing. “—and anyways, it’s better than listening to you yap about. I think Dabi’s even gotten tired of listening to your anxious rambling, which is probably why he hasn’t been putting up a fuss over us playing games.”

“Actually, I think that’s because I threatened to chop his dick off,” you snickered.

“You… threatened to chop his dick off,” Shigaraki deadpanned. “Why on earth did you do that.”

“I called you by Tomura in front of him and he got all pissy. I explained you’re my best friend and gave me permission to call you Tomura, and told him no dick measuring contests—otherwise he’d find he has no dick to measure.”

“And I thought you were less insane than the rest of them, but it’s pretty fucking crazy to threaten a man’s dick. Especially Dabi’s. ”

You barked out a laugh. “Insane or not, pretty boy wouldn’t actually do anything to hurt me. One time he accidentally burnt me and apologised for days afterwards. And he never apologises.”

“Tch.” He shook his head. “If you’re not gonna play, go bother someone else. I’m getting tired of MarioKart anyways.”

“Yeah, yeah, grumpypants.” You grabbed your cane and heaved yourself off the floor, sticking your tongue out at him. You made your way down the hall and into your room, waving to Dabi.

He looked up from his spot on the bed as you walked in, raising his eyebrows. “He kick you out?”

“Ehh, pretty much.” You stopped to scratch Boo behind the ears and give Nugget a quick pet, then plopped down next to him with a groan. “That, and I think his pride can only take so many beatings. Apparently, he’s absolute dogshit at MarioKart. Fighting games and MMOs are more his style.”

He snorted, “Why doesn’t that surprise me. He seems like the type of person to enjoy murdery games over anything else.”

“Oh, definitely.” You grinned. “I think it’s worth noting I’m awful at MarioKart. So the fact I was winning means he was really awful. ”

“I know, doll. I beat you twenty times before you gave up.”

“Don’t remind me of that!” You whined, throwing your hands into the air. “I’ve never had my ass kicked so terribly.”

“You forget I played a lot of games with Natsu. I got real damn good at shit like that.” Dabi shrugged, mischief in his eyes.

“Still sucked.” You pouted, crossing your arms. “You could’ve gone easy on me after the first ten times! You didn’t have to keep kicking my ass!”

“Ya think I’d go easy on you, doll? We both know I’ve never been the one to go easy.” A smirk pulled at his staples. “Especially on you.”

“Oh, shut it,” you grumbled, swatting at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet you still put up with me.”

“I literally couldn’t get rid of you if I tried. Not that I want to, anyways. You’re stuck with me just as much as I’m stuck with you, pretty boy.” You looked away from him when Shigaraki poked his head through the door. “What’s up, Shig?”

“Toga called. Time to go.”

You grinned, a gleam in your eyes. “Oh hell yeah.”

“Spinner, you are horrible at driving!” You yelped, hanging onto Compress’s free arm for dear life as Dabi pushed the truck doors open.

“In shogi, the point is to get the king, right?” Shigaraki spoke from atop the truck, his fingers interlocked.

“How the fuck have you not fallen off, dude?!” Your voice was sharp with anxiety.

“It’s not that simple,” Dabi drawled in response as he looked up at your leader.

“Yeah, they’re here, just like you said! To get from the Hassaikai to the nearest villain hospital, it’s fastest to use this highway. Thanks for letting us know! Toga, you’re so efficient. I’m much obliged,” Compress hummed gratefully.

“Good job Toga! Put her on speaker, Compress!” You leaned close to Compress’s phone, speaking loudly. He snorted and gently pushed you away, but put Toga on speaker nonetheless.

“Jin-kun’s the one who told me to call—”

“—fight!”

“—I was too busy watching Izuku!”

“Run away!”

“In fact, I’m sorry to make you get your hands dirty.”

“I only have one hand, though,” Compress mused playfully. Toga’s laugh chimed through the phone.

“We couldn’t get the girl who’s the crux of their plan, but we think the finished products are where you are. We watched the police’s movements for a while, so there’s a high probability. Even if they aren’t there…”

“—kill them—”

“...we want to say hi, right?”

Compress hummed as Toga hung up. “Sounds like Twice is having a rough go of it.”

“Yeah... they did good, though. I’m proud of both of them,” you said with a smile.

“Hey, lizard! Stop weaving!” Dabi snapped over his shoulder. “I get motion sick!”

“Don’t call me “lizard”! I’m Spinner!”

“What are you getting mad for? Shut up!” Dabi huffed, then gave you a look as you giggled. “Stop your laughing. It’s not funny.”

“You get motion sick?” You grinned at him, ignoring the glare you got in response.

“Is attacking the police really following the will of Stain, who wanted a true hero society? I’m not sure about that!”

“It’s a necessary sacrifice, Spinner. I’m counting on you to drive,” Shigaraki sighed, moving into a crouching position.

“And don’t fling us out of the back, please!” You added. “I don’t want to die just yet!”

Dabi rolled his eyes, then ignited his palm. “Now…” He grinned, and sent out a tunnel of flames. His grin faded when something stopped the fire from hitting the police cars. “What’s with him?”

“A hero! Of course there’d be one. Ugh!” Shigaraki’s voice was almost a whine. You had to suppress a teasing remark at that. “Spinner, slow down!” As the truck slowed enough to get closer to the police car, Shigaraki jumped down—then was hit in the face with a bunch of sand. The hero began to ramble on about Shigaraki's decay.

“He’s famous, huh?” Dabi sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. You patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. You’re just as scary as him.”

“Shigaraki is the misdirection; in other words, the decoy. Let’s go.” Compress flicked out a marble, which decompressed into a large piece of rubble. “Police car gently levitating! No trickery or devices involved.”

You snickered, then clambered onto Dabi’s back before he and Compress jumped out of the back of the truck. You hopped off and watched Dabi approach the hero that had pulled the policeman out of the transport vehicle Shigaraki caused to crash. He ignited his forearms as he loomed over the hero, a menacing smile on his face.

“That’s right. Heroes end up prioritising lives.”

“Recently, burnt corpses have been turning up one after another in various places.” The hero lowered the policeman onto the ground.

“Oh, are people talking about me? That makes me happy,” Dabi said, voice mocking.

“Told you, pretty boy! Just as scary!” You called. Compress nudged you, shaking his head in amusement. Your playfulness turned into a scowl when you heard what the hero said next, your grip on your cane tightening.

“Have you ever thought about the feelings of those they left behind?!”

You have no idea, hero. You have no idea.

While Compress and Dabi dealt with the hero, you walked over to Shigaraki, who was standing by Overhaul’s gurney. He nodded in acknowledgement, then turned his attention back to the former yakuza.

“Who’s going to be the next leader again?” Shigaraki tilted his head, hands in his pockets.

“Did you come to kill me?” Overhaul ignored his question. His voice was resigned, devoid of emotion.

“No. I thought of what you’d hate the most. I hate you.” Shigaraki took Father off his face as Compress approached. “You’re too full of yourself.”

“Me too.” Compress removed his mask, smirking. He used a marble to take one of Overhaul’s arms.

“Oh, nice.” You grinned, nudging Compress. “I didn’t think of that.”

“There are two boxes here. Which is the finished product?” Shigaraki opened the box as he spoke. “Oh, well.”

Overhaul’s eyes widened in panic as his face twisted up in a sour expression. “Give it back.”

“You know what, Overhaul? A person who erases people’s Quirks shouldn’t depend on their own Quirk, right?” Shigaraki leaned down and gripped Overhaul’s remaining arm. You watched as the Decay began to spread upwards, your eyes lighting up in twisted satisfaction. “If I don’t cut it off, your whole body will turn to dust.” Shigaraki lifted up a knife, then paused and turned to you, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

Your grin grew wider, and you took the knife. “Don’t mind if I do.” You swung the knife down, severing his forearm from his elbow.

“All right, now you’re a powerless, helpless, Quirkless man,” Shigaraki leered, a manic look on his face. “And the fruits of all that effort you spent are now mine! Now you won’t even have a finger to put in your mouth as you look on enviously at the rest of us! Let’s do our best!”

You giggled as hives spread across Overhaul’s skin, “What a pity! You shouldn’t have killed our friend and taken Compress’s arm.”

Spinner honked the horn of the truck. “Pursuers are coming! Hurry up and get in!” He shouted out the window.

Shigaraki straightened, placed Father back onto his face, and walked back to Spinner. “Next, it’s our turn.”

You trailed after him with a pleased hum. “Revenge feels nice.” Your joy and satisfaction grew exponentially as Overhaul screamed behind you. “It feels real fuckin’ nice.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki x you #todoroki toya x reader #todoroki toya x you #toya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki x you #my writing #bnha fanfiction #navi: we cant fix each other #writing.txt

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