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badasgirlfriend · 4 months

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Love On The Down Low - Bada Lee Social Media AU - 031

pairings: bada lee x zhong lei

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TW: grooming

a/n: would've could've should've is the song she wrote </3

taglist: { @1luvkarina , @hallotherenicetomeetyou @fillthwvoid , @kdacase @prilux @jjlovesbada @waveartistry , @dkluvs , @pinksults, @tikitsune , @b1ackbunny , @adaiasafira, @froufrousnowman , @99ycs, @badaslali , @italiekim , @saturnushasmyback , @heedoya @fairiechuu @itsbokutosjuicyass , @tnu-ree @jesuschrist2006 @asweetcollide , @ssivinee , @downbadforbada , @starryelling , @pupbistro , @dexthzone , @smoooore }

Numbness

That's what Bada had been feeling ever since she got that message. There were no tears or screams, just silent suffering. Her eyes were dry and she felt hollow inside. She was staring at her blue notebook she got with a pen in her hands

'Whatever you think, sorry but I don't give a fucking shit'

But mostly, she was mad.

She felt a burning anger within her. She was mad at the people who didn't believe her and continued to throw so many words at her without hearing her first

'Sorry, I don't give a fuck that your life is medicore'

She was angry at the company she basically brought back from failure.

'That you screwed up and are unable to leave the shithole'

She was mad at that girl who, for no reason, decided to destroy everything she has worked for. Playing the victim while Bada is the actual victim

'For you to think that my success is related to your failure"

Bada felt a growing sense of dread and anxiety. She had a feeling that this story would end badly for her, and she didn't like where it was headed.

Trapped in a nightmare with no way out

"Your delusion is top-notch fuck it"

Her eyes remained glued to paper that was filled with lyrics. Her attention was focused on the song she was working on, not even glancing at the girl who just entered the studio. She sighed and scribbled the mistake she had accidentally made, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Bada heard the chair next to her being pulled out, but she didn't look her way. Lei remained silent as well, not making a sound.

Lei stared at her, Bada's hood was up, hiding her face perfectly. She moved her eyes to read what she was writing. She cracked a smile, happy to see Bada get her motive back.

She wanted to say something, but everything that was on her mind felt embarrassing. Lei wasn't used to having this problem with anyone else. In fact, she was always the one striking up a conversation, you can never keep her mouth shut. But ever since she spent all those nights thinking about the butterflies she gets everytime she hangs out with Bada, something changed

Oh she's so fucked

"What's worse?" Bada spoke up, and Lei's eyes immediately darted towards her

"Being wanted but not loved, or loved but not wanted?"

"Uhm depends in what situation you put it" the shorter girl answered "But for me, I prefer a situation where both love and want are mutual"

Bada only nodded, satisfied with her answer. "Same" she muttered and closed the notebook. She then pulled her hood down, and tried to fix her messy hair

Lei felt sorry for the girl. Her eyes felt dead, and her eyebags were only getting worse day by day. Compared to when she first came and now, she lost so much weight too

"Let's celebrate" Bada bent down down and took out a small convenience store white cake from from the mini fridge.

Lei eyed her suspiciously taking a sip of water "What is this for?"

"For me getting kicked out of my group"

The chinese girl almost choked on her water "what- you got kicked?" she asked in disbelief, she didn't think it would come at this point

Bada's head whipped around in the blink of an eye "N- no oh my god, I said it wrong. Maybe I'll get kicked, I don't know they're thinking about it. If they can't win against the girl then yes"

"Well fuck your CEO and manager" Lei muttered, throwing her bottle on the floor in a fit of rage. "This whole situation should've ended months ago. That company is so greedy and corrupt, just hungry for more attention and money"

Bada couldn't help but grin as Lei continued to angrily ramble and curse everyone. It was oddly adorable how she would grab the hem of her shirt every time she was mad and play with it. Bada also noticed the way her heart began beating abnormally, and she couldn't help but feel a tug of affection for this girl. She'll ignore it for now

It will go away

"It's okay. We'll see how it goes" Bada replied "We'll see what happens" She passed a fork to Lei, and they began eating small bites of cake without even bothering to cut it.

"You didn't tell me you were a YG trainee."

Lei shivered at the mention of YG, her mind going back to those haunting memories of her time as a trainee. The voices of the other girls and stagf constantly putting her down, the pressure of being perfect, the abuse and neglect, most importantly him

"Yeah" Lei's mouth suddenly went dry at the thought. " How do you know?"

"I saw your 'YG songs' file" Bada said

"Oh, should've changed the name" she uttered "I was for five years then I left"

"I don't blame you" Bada sympathized. "It's a good thing that you left. They're known for keeping trainees forever without ever making their debut."

"It's not because of that" Lei sighed, avoiding eye contact and looking towards the computer. "I was forced to leave. They forced me to go, and there wasn't much I could do about it. It's a long story"

Lei's cheeks reddened when she felt Bada's hand grab hers.

"We have time" Bada said, reassuring her.

2016

Lei's whole body was shaking, and tears would run down her cheeks. She was trying to hard dance perfectly, but she simply couldn't anymore. The pressure was taking a toll on her, and she couldn't keep up no matter how hard she tried.

"Hey are you alright?" a voice said behind her. She wiped the tears from her face quickly, her eyes still red

She turned around to face the person, and her eyes widened as she saw who it was. It only took a split second for her to recognize him as her senior, she was too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Instead, she bowed and kept her head dangling low "Y-yes Im fine thank you"

He smiled softly at her and laughed. "It's obvious you're not, here take my water bottle."

"It's unnecessary really," she was about to deny his offer, but his playful glare won her over. "Thank you."

"If anyone's giving you a hard time, just tell me. I'll have a talk with them," he said with a lighthearted tone. He winked at her, and Lei blushed hard "How old are you anyway?"

Lei cleared her throat and replied "15"

He smiled at her amused "Really?" He eyed her up and down smirking "You look much older"

If only she knew..

"I was 15, and he was 26" Lei muttered, their chairs now touching. Lei rested her head on Bada's shoulder and closed her eyes, Bada caressing her hand

"I was young and dumb" she continued "and he was older and manipulative. He took advantage of my age and innocence to mold me into what he wanted me to be."

Bada's nails dug into the chair, and her grip tightened. She clenched her jaw so harshly that she could feel the tension in her jaw muscles "Who's that man"

Lei sighed "The famous Kim Jihoon, Korea's pride, funny title if they only knew"

This hit Bada like a brick. Suddenly, all the rumors she had heard among some trainees made more sense. Bada had met him many times, and he had always been nice, but there was always this weird feeling about him. It was like something was off and not quite right.

"At first, he started buying me drinks and snacks during practice. Then it turned more serious he began gifting me jewelry. Months went by and we started dating. I was on cloud 9 from happiness, everything felt perfect. I thought I was going to debut, and I was dating every girl's dream boy."

Bada bit her lip at Lei's confession, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness.

2017

Jihoon sat next her, smiling as he looked at her. "You look so cute like this. You should make your hair into little buns more often" he ran his thumb over her cheek gently, making her smile.

"It makes me look so childish though" Lei replied, feeling embarrassed.

"Nah, you look pretty, you're a big girl" he said, leaning in close and brushing her cheek with his lips. Jihoon pressed his body close to hers, but he immediately backed away when some of the other girls entered the hallway. They instantly began to giggle and greet him with playful flirtatious smiles, and he smiled back.

Lei felt a pang of jealousy and envy as she witnessed this, feeling completely insecure compared to these pretty girls. They were older than her, way prettier and about to debut soon. Everything Jihoon was looking in a girl

"Can't let them see us, right?" Jihoon laughed teasing her, and Lei's smile fell

She was his, but he was never hers

"We had been dating for a year, and I often felt uncomfortable with some things he wanted me to do. I just felt so confused because he was older and wiser, and he was an idol. He always used that as his excuse whenever I questioned him." Lei's hands began to shake as she tried to explain the emotions and situation she had been in.

Bada closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. She placed an arm around Lei's shoulder and reassured her "It's not your fault-"

"It is, it was always my fault"

2017

Jihoon slammed the practice door and shouted, "What the fuck Lei?"

Lei took a step back, her hands shaking behind her back, feeling nervous and scared. She tried to get her words out but her mouth was dry and she felt too overwhelmed to respond.

Jihoon cursed again and began to brush his hair with his hands. "I told you not to talk to me in front of the others. God you're so stupid and immature"

Lei said quietly and sniffled "Im sorry, please don't leave me"

Jihoon frowned and sighed, pulling her closer to him and wiping away her tears. "Im sorry for yelling but it was your fault baby, you made me really mad" he continued "But I'll forgive you"

Lei whispered "Why do you never talk to me when we're around other people?"

He placed his hand under her chin, gently lifting her face towards him. "They can't know about us because then they'll say that you debuted because of me"

Jihoon placed a sweet kiss to her forehead, and he looked at her with a playful grin. "We don't want that to happen, right? So let's keep it a secret."

'He's older Lei, he knows what he's doing'

He moved to kiss her lips, but she quickly turned her head away. She didn't know why she felt so uncomfortable with making out with him, but she has to, other girls would let him do things like this "I'm sorry Jihoon I don't really want to-"

He looked at her with a smirk "Shh it's okay don't worry. I know you're inexperienced, but it's okay. We'll take things slowly and learn together."

"He used me in so many ways, and I just let him. Chenle was so against our relationship, and I told him I broke up with him just to get him off my back." Lei explained, feeling a mix of guilt and shame

Bada's mind was flooded with so many emotions. She wanted to hug Lei, kill that motherfucker and burn down YG Entertainment.

"I noticed that he would always ask for my lyrics journal and I gave it to him since I thought it wasn't a big deal. But he never gave it back to me. One day I was at the cafe when I heard his newest song playing. I recognized it instantly because it was my song that I've written."

Lei paused and took a deep breath, Bada squeezed her hand in comfort. "His whole album was filled with songs I wrote, he changed nothing. I was so angry that I texted him saying that I'll tell Yang HyunSuk about what he did."

"Three hours later, I got called to his office, where Jihoon was also present. Jihoon started accusing me of selling his songs and leaking information, and even stalking him. Everything he said to Yang HyunSuk, he believed it without a doubt. Yang HyunSuk offered me two options: they can sue for stalking and selling their songs, or I can leave the entertainment and the country for at least five years and the police won't get involved"

Bada sighed sadly and rubbed her face, feeling awful for the girl "So you chose to leave"

Bada felt sick, her girlhood, her dream everything was taken away from her. Lei didn't deserve what she went through, at such a young age

"I had no choice but to leave," Lei replied softly, smiling faintly at Bada "We weren't financially stable, and in this society, who do you think they would believe?"

She shook her head sadly. "A man who's admired by everyone or a young girl who no one knows? They would never choose the girl."

"I went back to my parents after everything and worked for a year before coming here to live alone. It wasn't easy, but I made it work because I had to. I wanted to continue pursuing my dream but I couldn't. I just had to move on and let it go"

She was so used to this pain that it became normal to her. But damn did she feel sorry for herself

She was young

Bada quickly wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek before Lei could see it. She then took her hand and gently held Lei’s face, making her look at her directly.

"You were just a kid, and you didn't deserve that. He was 26. And I don't want you to blame yourself, it was never your fault."

Lei gave a quick nod of her head, trying to fight back her tears.

Bada pulled her closer and hugged her tightly. She whispered in her ear "I'm so sorry you went through this alone. But you did it in the end, and I'm super proud of you."

Lei held her firmly as well, hugging her as close as their chairs would allow them to. Neither of them minded the uncomfortable seating position and just wanted to stay like that

"And when my hiatus is over, If you want, we can go together in Korea. I'll be by your side so you can finally speak up and tell your story. Everyone deserves to hear it from the heart."

Bada whispers this in Lei’s ear with a gentle voice "And you can't hide your talent" Bada said as she pulled away from the hug and logged in on the computer. "Why stop your dream for a fucked up man, his life is going to get destroyed either way? You can get your songs back and sing them like they're supposed to, and we'll make sure everyone knows the truth and knows that you deserve better."

Lei nodded softly and let out a small, broken chuckle. "I'm sorry this turned depressing so quickly"

Lei clicked on her YG files and pointed to one of the songs "I wrote this after I realized everything he did to me"

"Can I hear it?" Bada asked

Lei didn't reply, she just played the song, Bada listened carefully from the start to the end. Each word was like a knife in her gut

She felt sick

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theblackdahliaemporium · 11 months

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Dandelion

Lat. Taraxacum officinale

─━━━━━━⊱༻🦋༺⊰━━━━━━─

Dandelions belong to the composites and their ordinary species of plants. You can spot them in Asia, Europe, as well as in North America. This plant can grow up to 40cm in height, its leaves are toothed and grow directly from the ground in a circular way. Their bright yellow, round blossoms, which are formed by many thin petals, make them easy to identify. Another distinctive feature are their hollow stems, filled with a milky substance.

As soon as the blossoms vanish, on their position appear their well-known seeds with their white parachutes – which get blown away for all kinds of wishes. The seeds can be easily carried away by even soft wind and that’s how dandelions spread their seeds, that’s why they’re also named “blowballs”.

As soon as you spot the first dandelions on meadows or even roadsides, we can be sure that the winter is mostly over at this point.

This plant does prefer the direct sunlight – and they grow in every place and are very frugal.

It’s best to harvest their leaves right away – after just a short time they produce bitter substances. They’re also best used fresh, since they’re not ideal to store over time. For their blossoms you better wait until they’ve fully opened up to pick. Remove the green parts on them, to use them in salads, vinegar, tea or even to refine wines.

Dandelion roots can be harvested too, best during autumn, as soon as it is rich in starch. But if you like it a bit sweeter, spring time would provide a harvest of the roots. So it’s a good time between September and February to dig the roots up. The best way to dry them is to cut them in small pieces and let them dry in a well aired and dry place. Later on they can be stored in containers in dark, cool places and can be used till up to a year.

In addition dandelion can be enjoyed raw and cooked. The blossoms go well in soups and broths, the root can be used grounded in coffees as well as in salads. Even in beer the dandelion can be used, as a refiner etc. – as you can see, this plant is very versatile.

Among botanicals it is known as the blowball.

Caution

Even though dandelions are widely spread and well-known, there is still a chance of danger of confusions with other plants! Dandelions do not have their leaves on the stems, stems got no hair and is hallow with a milky liquid inside. Per stem are only one blossom at time! Please consider all this facts and do not eat any plants without identifying them to 100%. Never forget: In case of sickness, you should always consult a doctor. Please don’t try to treat a sickness with the effects of any plant without the advice of a doctor.

─━━━━━━⊱༻🦋༺⊰━━━━━━─

╔.🦋. .═════════════╗

correspondences

╚═════════════.🦋. .╝

- masculine

- Sagittarius, Pisces

- Jupiter, Sun

- Air

- Hekate, Brigid, Medusa, Belenos/Belenus/Apollo(n), Ra

╔.🦋. .═════════════╗

healing properties

╚═════════════.🦋. .╝

- against urinary problems as well as liver & kidney diseases

- detoxifying

- aids stomach ache and flatulences

- clears the skin and it’s milky substance erases warts

╔.🦋. .═════════════╗

magical properties

╚═════════════.🦋. .╝

- wishes

- increases psychic abilities, braveness and self-confidence

- supports spirit summonings

- sun magic

- positivity, cleansing, banishing

- furthers creativity & motivation and solvents blockages

- hope, new beginnings

- kitchen magic

- can be used to deliver messages (including the underworld as well as other realms)

- love magic

Like so many other plants that are assigned to the sun, but are also yellow, dandelions brings in a huge amount of joy and happiness into life. At the same time it motivates and is ideal to use for creativity and motivation spell jars.

Its positive vibes can be also used for any kind of incenses and smoke cleansing.

Since dandelions have a wide variety of usage in the kitchen, there are naturally tons of ways to bring in your wanted intentions while cooking. Above you already got some ideas how to use dandelion in meals, but let your creativity spark! Dandelions can also be used in pastries, as glaze or toppings. The sky is the limit!

As the lion is already part of the name, the lions spends you enough strength and bravery to overcome the obstacles in life.

Not to forget the simplest way to integrate the dandelion into magic: As blowball that makes your wishes come true! We all are familiar with this kind of magic, since we grew up with this. Many adults still believe in this magic, that’s why it gets passed on from generation to generation. It’s the same principle as with shooting stars, lashes and birthday candles.

In love, it also has its input – when creamed in with it’s milky juice, the lovers become even more desirable in the eyes of their partners.

─━━━━━━⊱༻🦋༺⊰━━━━━━─

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sometipsygnostalgic · 1 year

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Idk if this has been talked about before but do you think Hordak and Wrong Hordak are kind of parallels to catra and adora? Adora and WH both fully believed the hoard was truly good, and only defected when they realized it was a lie. Their values never changed, their realities did. Catra and Hordak both seemed to know the hoard was actually pretty evil, but didn't care. They both had there own reasons to rebel in the end, personal pride and whatnot, but mostly it was their love for adora and entrapta that pushed them to change sides.

Yes, I absolutely do.

Wrong Hordak even has a scene where he's petting a horse for the first time, just like Adora!!! And they both have this sort of existential crisis.

They both believed they were honorable missionaries of the Horde, that the Horde was perfect. Whether it was Adora believing the Horde were victims of rebel insurgents, or Wrong Hordak believing that Prime was the smartest and most merciful man in the universe. Sweary Shera amps this up to 11 with their Wrong Hordak having heard a bunch of lies about gay people, kind of like how Adora heard a bunch of lies about princesses (also gay people).

With Catra and Hordak, it's more like... okay, yeah, they were ALSO brought up in these cults. And I would actually say that Hordak was far more "brainwashed" than Catra, because to begin with Hordak fully believed in the hype of Prime, at least for a while. He was cast aside as a defect, and knew of the violence of the Horde, but still believed in his creator's perfection, unlike Catra, who knew from the start that Weaver was full of shit and realised over time that Hordak was too.

I'd say though that both of them were SCARED of their masters, and were trying to get their approval, to sort of... prove that they were wrong about them. Because the little voice Prime and Weaver put in their heads says "You are wrong, you are a failure", and they need to silence that in order to function. This is why Catra never defected, she needed to prove herself in the system and Weaver would "win" if she quit, and this is why Hordak scrambled to Prime's feet once he arrived.

But something changed over time. The versions of Hordak and Catra we get at the end of Season 4, their hearts aren't in it anymore. All of their actions across S4 are driven by different motivations to before.

For Hordak, his motivation actually flips over - He hardly gives a shit about reuniting with Prime anymore! What he wants to do is prove to Entrapta that she was wrong for leaving him behind, and prove to himself that he isn't a worthless piece of shit failure like everyone thinks he is. Hordak goes from a sheltered scientist to leading the army on the front lines, embracing the violence of a warlord and sort of making a name for himself rather than hiding behind the rest of the Horde. He's in the state of mind Catra was in the previous seasons!!!

For Catra, her motivation... well, it ends. We saw the fire and rage from her in the previous season where she was so determined to prove herself that she ended the world, and this is a Catra who has to deal with the consequences of that. She realises that she has very little left in her life and she tries to cling onto those ideas, even to bond with Hordak despite everything he's done to her, and she goes through the ten stages of grief, ending up on Prime's doorstep as having... started to think about what it is she really wants. Like, she sees Glimmer fuck up big time but try to fix it anyway, she goes "You can do that???", and I think Catra starts to accept she still cares about people, she cares about Adora and even Glimmer and Hordak. She's a character filled with so much empathy who tries to crush it dry.

Hordak and Catra both get the "death and rebirth" in the final season, after their "rebirth" they become more introspective with all the rage tempered or gone. Hordak, in close proximity to Prime, starts to see how truly weak the man is, and how hollow his version of "Love" is, especially compared to the sheer strength of heart he sees from Entrapta. And Catra, in "Save the Cat", are their bare selves, all notions of hero vs villain stripped away, just those two girls who grew up together trying to survive. Catra afterwards still has the final strips of her mask that she claws onto, but she lets them flutter away.

Wrong Hordak and Adora "had it easier" when it came to defecting because they were entrenched in the false values of their system, and just applied those values to their new situation. Whereas Catra and Hordak had to develop new values from the ground up, since the whole time all they were made to care about was whether they were on the good side of the person in charge, because if they werent, they were going to get the Stick.

#she ra #spop #catra #hordak #adora #wrong hordak

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oatbrew · 10 months

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bugs in amber

prompt/summary: He had built an algorithm out of his rage. Rage could execute his body with purpose and focus his vision on one solid vector of machine logic.

But it was these moments he made monuments of, encompassing and embracing around his calcified grief. They could stiffen his knees into worship, nail his feet to the bedrock of the earth with warmth and affection and love and render it impossible for him to move ever again.

Ko is determined to make good on his revenge. That doesn’t mean they’ll make it easy.

(A non-linear character study in fragments heavily inspired by Slaughterhouse-Five and written for the @pp10thtribute zine.)

note: Also please check out this fantastic paired piece by @lucidink!

“To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing.”

Anne Carson, Red Doc>

“Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time.”

Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five

The thing is: he doubts Sasayama had much time to consider his life flashing before his eyes when he was dismembered.

It must have hurt beyond hell, he thinks. Sasayama’s brain must have receded into the baser impulses of stopping the pain and insisting upon the next breath.

So his mourners, alive and decidedly not dying in the immediate next moment, consider his life for him with the humanity and time he wasn’t afforded.

They don’t hold formal ceremonies for dead Enforcers. Kunizuka hosts a drinking session in her room with others who had known the man well. He can practically hear her subdued yet insulting toast about the bastard followed by raucous laughter from the others.

In his room, Kogami labors.

The truth is: Ko can no longer remember what Sasayama looks like based on memory alone. He only appears intact in photographs. He keeps one of the man—grinning, alive, and joyous. The others are very much not.

Sasayama’s plasticized statue secretes patterns, motivations, and agendas in the twists of its limbs and the macabre hollows of its eyes. Kogami observes even as he relives.

He doesn’t recall exactly what happened that night. But ironically, he swears his own life had flashed before him.

Not his memories, but, rather, what would come after. Almost like steps, instructions of where he would go, what he would do after this. His entire life laid out in a linear strip, cutting off just after the part where he would enact justice for the way they made Sasayama resort to the indignities of a dying animal.

Like his future had arrived into the present and that it had come—it will only ever come—to this.

And so it does.

A part of Ko had always acted as an audience to his actions. Or worse, Enobarbus himself caught between narrator and character on the eve of his death, simultaneously living and telling a story that was already set in the past at the same time it was happening.

The second he pulls the trigger, audience and narrator intertwine knee-deep in déjà vu. Like he had already done this before, over and over, and would continue to do so the day after.

In some ways, the profundity of something like fate arriving at his heels is so overwhelming that he wants to dry heave. Finally, he thinks, but after—

The blood coagulates, the wind whistles, leaving silence long after the echoes of the shot have gone and his ears have stopped ringing.

So in other ways, it feels like any other Thursday.

It is so mundane and banal it feels a little anticlimactic. The world should have stopped here, he thinks like a confused, petulant child.

He’d read enough tragedies to expect the catharsis. The moment of resolution in laying down the weight of his labor, making good on his vow as his final offering to lay Sasayama’s wandering spirit to rest.

But it is a Thursday, he has just killed Makishima, and somehow, he is still in this body with its old aches, his stomach hollow from a missed lunch, his head throbbing with an incoming migraine.

Somehow, he’s still him.

A long embattled victor in front of his fated adversary’s loss, and all he can think of is Masaoka, similarly leaking his life onto the floor. He looks beyond where Gino had clutched his dead father and wonders if the foregone rules of the narrative had warranted a loss for a win. All he can think is that he is here instead of there and the utter ambivalence of it—the fact that there is more to continue and to lose—is more staggering than what he has just done.

This is what dislodges his feet.

Life moves on.

So it goes.

And so it does.

He is running now, losing count of the seconds.

But he has a plan even if it had been made with some irony that surely he wouldn’t reach this point to worry about the logistics. Surely, he wouldn’t have made it this far. He’d arranged his supposed escape and felt it ridiculous and utterly serious.

Because absurdly he wants it. He wants it so bad his teeth ache. He wants to see what he can improvise, what could come after even if he can’t imagine it.

Akane probably could. Maybe even with her disillusion, she would still understand and imagine a better continuation for him.

The thought keeps his legs steady. His lungs ache but it barely warrants acknowledgment as his calves burn and keep him onward and on, feet pounding onto the dirt and through the grass—

“Got you, you little freak.”

That he hadn’t registered the approaching footsteps from behind douses him with a sickly feeling before it’s replaced by a force more resounding in its sudden appearance than any actual impact.

Oh, he spoke too soon, didn’t he—

The side of his left cheek burns when the force throws a punch and starts pummeling the soft, fleshy parts of his face. But even his harder edges—parts like his forehead, his cheekbone—feel susceptible to the molding hands of his opponent’s artistry. He lifts his stick-thin arms feebly in defense and the base level of his brain triggers his tear ducts. He hasn’t cried in two decades. And the humiliation, the fear, the pain, the weariness, the utter failure—

Oh, fuck you, he is so tired of being on the floor.

And it is a bit like slipping into the roles of audience and narrator, his own individual god, witnessing his body retaliating. His opponent is stronger but the rage of futility hasn’t stopped those stick arms from reaching and arching knuckles into claws.

Children rarely have compunctions for boundaries they’ve yet to be taught. But he thinks even if he wasn’t a child that nothing could have stopped him from doing this.

He plunges his fingers into his bully’s eyes and the boy screams like panicked quarry. The only reason why he stops from progressing further is from the saving grace of their teacher who has arrived just in time.

“Kogami Shinya!”

An even larger body pulls him away, caging squirming limbs in its arms. And he thrashes because that’s what he does when he’s six and in the throes of an anger fugue.

He doesn’t think he even recognizes where he is until Mama arrives. They keep him out of the office as they talk, which is stupid because what information would they need to shield him from when he was literally there doing the thing they’re talking about in the first place.

Grown-ups are so stupid.

“Shinya, let’s go home.”

Mama’s carefully held body is standing by the doorway. Her face is a pacific mask.

Well, shit.

Shinya clings even as he squirms to escape. Anger and adrenaline seep out until he is dead on his feet. He’s still young enough to indulge Mama carrying him to their car without shame. But he glares at his classmates clamoring to rubberneck the scrap that had toppled the Goliath of their year. And the defeated himself encircled by his entourage, face adorned with bandages—but his eyes, unblinking and set on him.

He’s not blind, Ko thinks with disappointment. But in the other’s gaze was something better: a tightening in recognition of a better predator. And injured but victorious cub in his mother’s arms rumbles with satisfaction as she tucks him behind a seatbelt and drives away.

The week after his suspension, there are no more looks. Quite the opposite, it seems as if everyone is doing everything but look.

His spine stiffens as he walks to class, aware that there is a berth of at least five feet between him and another person. No one stares but he can feel how carefully they don’t do it.

Later at lunch, he confronts his lone friend, another loser just as scrawny as he is.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he demands.

The boy looks frightened before defensiveness compels him to raise his head. “Everyone saw what you did, Shinya.”

“So? Wasn’t that the point? Wasn‘t that what we wanted?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”

His stomach clenches. And here at such a young age, he starts seeing the line between himself and others. The way they separate from him and alienate without having to say more.

Someone had to do it. What choice did he have after weeks of torment? After watching them push the weak ones onto the dirt? Did they expect him to lie down and take it?

“Can you please just leave me alone?”

Ko watches in silence as the other boy uncouples from his gravity and joins the rest of the flock.

Mama never ends up lecturing him about it. Instead, she starts taking him to judo lessons. On weekends, she teaches him kendo.

The only thing she will say about it is an adage: “Never start a fight that you cannot finish.”

Ko is initially offended. Did Mama think he was so incapable and weak?

It is only as he grows that he realizes that it was never about starting. She had been worried that he would never finish, never stop once he started.

When he saves another boy, in another time and another place, he begins to think her worries are founded. Unlike the first time, Gino does not take advantage of Ko’s honed skills and protectiveness as Ko tackles the other boy’s bully onto the floor.

They become friends. He can’t regret it since Gino looks at him like he’s not a live wire.

Like he’s a person. Like he’s good.

So when Gino declares his intentions to follow in his old man’s footsteps, Ko follows, too.

“Are you certain?”

His voice is wry. “I’m hurt. You don’t think I’d be good at police work?”

“On the contrary,” Gino bristles, perpetually prickly when teased. “You’re good at a lot of things. You could be anything you want. I don’t see why you have to take such a hard route.”

Gino sounds so sure that Ko is a little embarrassed. He’ll never admit but a romantic 17-year-old version of him obsessed with Beat authors does entertain notions of being a novelist.

But contrary to Gino’s perceptions of his talent, he’s never had the kind of head for creation. Nor the hands. They’d only ever been good to crush, break, and deconstruct.

He feels like a walking, talking cliché.

Perhaps if he analyzed further, he’d indulge the possibility of his interest in literature as compensation for a perceived lack. Even then, what would he do with the realization? Best to leave originality with those who have more poetry in their souls, like Tsubasa or Kunizuka.

This is why it is all the more baffling when Akane remarks upon seeing his physical book collection, “You have so many. Have you ever considered writing one?”

He’s flabbergasted but doesn’t show it. “Don’t have the spirit for that kind of work.”

“Are you serious? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as willful as you.”

“Is that another word for stubborn?”

She laughs. “I feel like the whole world could bend and you’d be the only one still standing straight. What does an artist require more than conviction in their individuality?”

Imagination, he wants to say but he keeps silent. The indulgent part of him wants to laugh as well but not for the same reasons.

The less generous part is tempted to disappoint her on purpose, redirect her admiration to someone else. Not necessarily because he’s particularly self-hating but because he knows the truth of what he deserves.

Sometimes, Akane could very well be a mirror image of his younger self in all her earnestness, naïveté, and drive. But even at this age, she is more than he could ever strive to be. Akane can see possibilities in anything and anyone. She can will alternative realities into existence, her imagination surpassing beyond his own.

He doesn’t know how to tell her or Gino that he’s never known how to diverge and make his own path. He’s looked ahead enough to know that there has only ever been one possibility for him. His own will no longer has anything to do with it.

Once he starts, he cannot stop. Once he begins, he will never finish.

Sometimes his anger forgets.

Any extreme emotion is hard to sustain at its peak constantly. It comes in waves, and what remains when it recedes far enough is the periphery of everything else happening.

Kagari invites him to eat something other than the pre-made lifeless offerings in the cafeteria.

In a rare moment of stillness, he silently watches the old man paint an entire landscape.

Kunizuka asks a question about office gossip he’d referenced offhandedly in the paddy wagon on the way back to headquarters.

Aoyanagi and Karanomori squabble with him about the stupidity of a newly released sitcom during a lunch break.

Sometimes after a particularly hard day, he’ll catch Gino’s eye long enough to see something there that isn’t just careful detachment or barely concealed resentment. Like they forget they aren’t supposed to recognize each other, both too mutually exhausted from the same bullshit of everyday inanities to keep the pretense of Inspector Ginoza and Enforcer Kogami.

And just as quickly as it appears, it is all swallowed up when the wave returns.

“Has your memory always been fractured since the incident?”

Ko’s gaze is steady. “I’ve never been good at remembering anyway.”

The doctor smiles benignly as if gleaning some hidden truth from the off-handed way Ko has adopted to speak to officials and people with any kind of authority.

“You know, it’s nothing to be ashamed of if you encounter some blank spots or confusion. PTSD is a very complex diagnosis, and recovery for Inspectors who’ve managed to turn their hue around has been an equally complex journey.”

“I can imagine.”

Another smile. Ko tags it as genuine. He’d feel bad for the guy if he didn’t hate the entire farce of this in the first place. His title as an Inspector is a sham of a formality at this point. It’s only a matter of time before he slips and careens forward.

“Anything you want to share with me before we start?”

“Nothing in particular.”

He takes a beat as if to give Ko all the opportunity to change his mind. “All right. How’ve you been sleeping the past week?”

“Well enough.”

“What about your dreams?”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t dream.”

“That’s bullshit, dude.”

“What’s bullshit?”

“Ko says he doesn’t dream.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t.”

“I don’t.”

“Everyone dreams,” Kagari insists, voice garbled with chewed popcorn.

“How do you know?” Kunizuka says from her perch on Kagari’s beanbag, strumming absently in tune with the movie score. Ko distantly watches the action on the screen. They’ve screened this film for the fourth time that month at Kagari’s insistence.

He knows the mindless explosions and cheesy dialogue by heart. So does Kagari but he reacts like this is the first time he’s watched this movie.

“Holy shit! Did you see that!” He stuffs another fist of popcorn into his mouth. “Anyway, everyone dreams. If you think you don’t, you probably just don’t remember it when you wake up.”

He and Kunizuka continue to bicker good-naturedly. Ko does not have the heart to tell them about his night terrors. The way he wakes with his heart in his throat, ready to crawl and leap out of his chest.

He can never recall visuals clearly but the sensations, the visceral physical reaction of his body in the middle of a mental break imprint the cartography of his skin and veins like muscle memory.

His recollection is shot, but he carries souvenirs anyway. Perhaps he does not even have to say anything. Kagari and Kunizuka must have souvenirs of their own.

Onscreen, the supporting man explodes in a fiery inferno after pushing the main hero’s love interest out of the way.

“Why are we watching this again,” Kunizuka grimaces. But it’s rhetorical; they don’t talk about the Division 3 Enforcer who’d hit the ground spine first from up the roof during a scuffle earlier that week. Ko does not bring up the subsequent way in which Kagari has been acting recklessly, almost with relish at his mortality in the following days. They don’t hold formal ceremonies for dead Enforcers so this was the next best thing for someone Kagari considered a friend.

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” Kagari pipes up. He takes a swig of beer.

“To get caught in a gas explosion?” Kunizuka plays along dryly.

“To die in a way more meaningful than how you lived.”

“I think I’ll stick with dying of old age, thanks,” she says after a brief, painful pause.

“What about you, Ko? How’d you like to leave?”

He doesn’t even take a beat. “In my bed. With a really good book.”

Kagari’s half-shitfaced expression breaks into joyous laughter. “Yeah. Leave the heroics to the rest of us.”

Ko does not say that heroics don’t exist here. That if they do, it won’t take long before you’re punished for it. No good deeds and all.

They all have ways to cope by joking and pretending that things exist.

Later that night, after the alcohol has addled their minds into oblivion, Ko will push Kagari to sleep somewhere other than the floor, Kunizuka already adrift on the couch. Kagari leans heavily on the other man as they stumble forward.

“I lied. Don’t really give a shit how it happens…” he slurs.

“What?” Ko grunts as he pushes him to lie on the bed. Kagari flops on his belly like a starfish, his voice muffled.

“I don’t care how I die. But…” he pauses, adding, “Just bury me with friends, and I’ll rest easy.”

The moment is so genuine that it’s almost uncomfortable. But Ko feels like he owes it to him to allow space for it. He softens his voice, almost unused to the way words form in the shape of his mouth.

“Don’t know if you’d like being stuck with the rest of us for all time. We’d all get sick of each other eventually.”

The younger man snorts. “I’ve been by myself my whole life. Pretty tired of it. I figure I’d deal, even if it meant having to put up with your bitch ass ghost for the rest of eternity.”

He punctuates the moment with a laugh, drunk on humor. It is neither sarcastic nor irreverent. He sounds impossibly young like the child he never got to be.

Ko can’t help a chuckle at that, even if he also can’t help his envy.

“All right, sure. If it comes to that, I promise I’ll haunt you the second I die.”

What a thing that must be: to be defined by what you love at the end of it all.

The thing is: Kagari is right. Ko does dream. They’re not all bad. He just doesn’t remember, too busy having a panic attack just as he wakes to recall minute details.

When he sleeps, he conjures Sasayama exactly as he thinks he saw him last. They are in the living room of his quarters, some Enforcers congregating in celebration of someone’s birthday—he doesn’t remember. In the kitchen, he can hear the commotion of cooking. He even thinks he can hear Amari laugh, Akane responding in kind.

A memory? No. A dream for sure, rationale tells him. On his lap is the gun he will kill Makishima with. Has killed. Yet to be killed.

He doesn’t know where in time he’s situated but the anxiety is constant whenever he is.

“What if it’s all bullshit,” Ko asks, as Sasayama blows smoke into the air. He’s mid-story, Ko remembers. The man had regaled them for half an hour with an anecdote that ultimately went nowhere and received the jeering with glee.

Ko interrupts the script, the memory, the dream, whatever.

“What if I can’t do it?”

Or worse: what if I can, and nothing changes?

Sasayama stubs his cigarette on the ashtray. “Then you don’t. So what?”

“All of those years hunting. It can’t have been for nothing. I can’t have you killed like an animal for nothing.”

“Ah, well. We all die like animals in the end, don’t we.”

“You don’t understand. All I’ve done—none of it will have mattered if I can’t do this.”

Sasayama laughs but it does not sound like him at all. He thinks he hears Pop’s gravelly voice for a moment in his place. Or is that his mother’s low timbre?

“If none of it matters,” the voice continues, gentle and lethal, “then why am I still here anyway? Why are you still trying to keep me here, Ko?”

This is new, Ko thinks, shaking breath visible in the morning, as lingering sleep clears from his eyes to fix onto the intruder sitting at the foot of his cot. Underneath him, the metal floor of the ship he’s escaped to creaks.

The other man looks preserved and clean like he’s never had his brain matter spattered on the back of his head by Ko’s hand. His pristine hair glows white in the dark of the cabin.

“New? And here I thought you were clever,” he drawls, amber frozen with contempt and amusement. “Don’t you remember, Kogami? I’ve been here before.”

I’ll be here again is not said but the promise is heard all the same.

Underneath them both, the ocean rolls and moves even as it stays in one place.

The anger, the grief, the terror, the trauma are as constant as time.

(But he hears a warm laugh somewhere, somewhen. A man claps a friendly hand on his shoulder. He smells his mother’s curry. Next to him, Pops watches the sunrise from the rooftops, his face serene with eternal forgiveness.

Ko summons them all and keeps them here.)

Because for better or worse, so are they.

And so it goes.

#psycho pass #kougami shinya #kogami shinya #.#fic.#kept saying i needed to post this and then continually proceeded not to post it #very delayed! please read the other fanworks if you havent yet

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glitchy-npc · 1 month

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29 and 34 for ferris and 2 and 15 for tegan??

If they were real would you be friends with them?

Me and Ferris would get along but I'd wonder if there miiight be an ulterior motive there.

How well do they deal with grief?

She is ignoring her grief as best she can. It interferes with the better life she wants for herself.

In private though she would have a good long cry and then try to make herself feel better with either food/drinks or stealing things.

Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so what scents do they prefer?

He doesn't wear cologne until Revelations. As a fully revealed mob boss allied with Hollow Ground he needs to look and act the part and scent is a part of that. That its the same cologne Ricardo wears is purely coincidental.

What kind of sense of humor do they have? Or do they have one at all?

Dry and kinda mean at times. Deadpan jokes are a constant.

Thanks for the ask!

#ask meme #tegan wells #ferris park

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ogradyfilm · 5 months

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Recently Viewed - Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis

Above all else, Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis is a triumph of production design. From the intricately detailed miniature models and matte paintings to the elaborate costumes and soundstages to the charming Harryhausen-inspired stop-motion creature effects, every cent of the enormous budget is clearly evident. Hell, even the lighting—the radiant shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the surface of turbulent water, the eerie pale glow of the full moon peering through a blanket of dry ice clouds, the ominous neon glare of supernatural power—is absolutely immaculate.

The film’s spectacular imagery perfectly matches its themes, which revolve around the conflict between tradition and modernization. At the dawn of the twentieth century, Japan’s cultural leaders have become increasingly obsessed with urban redevelopment as a means of competing on the world stage. Rich industrialists, for example, propose the erection of towering skyscrapers that rival the gods in stature—ostentatious symbols of material wealth (as well as hubris, considering the country’s frequent earthquakes). Nationalistic, xenophobic militarists, on the other hand, argue for “practicality” over hollow aesthetics—borders, walls, and fortifications have far more strategic value than gaudy architecture. Scientists, meanwhile, prefer technological advancement to politics and commerce, embracing the logistical challenges of constructing a vast subterranean railway system. Those attuned to spiritual matters—monks, mediums, practitioners of geomancy—urge these various parties to exercise caution and moderation in their pursuit of the “future,” warning that such unrestrained expansion risks irrevocably tarnishing the sanctity of the land, thus provoking the wrath of ancestral ghosts and guardian deities. “Progress,” after all, can be a destructive force; occasionally, building something new requires burning down the old. These concerns, however, are dismissed as invalid and irrelevant—as obsolete as magic and mysticism in the era of automobiles, engineering, and electricity.

Despite this compelling premise, the plot is rather jumbled, disjointed, and unfocused. Among the sprawling (and bloated) ensemble cast, no single character ever really emerges as a true “protagonist”; vaguely sketched archetypes are introduced rapidly and vanish just as abruptly, only to reappear at seemingly random intervals. In terms of personality and motivation, they’re nearly indistinguishable; consequently, the audience has little opportunity to form a proper relationship with them. Basically, they’re merely props, existing for the sole purpose of communicating exposition and propelling the story from one set piece to the next—they’re functional, but not terribly memorable.

Fortunately, the central villain alleviates this flaw to a significant degree. With his dark, sunken eyes and sharp, almost skeletal facial features, Yasunori Kato is instantly iconic—the epitome of “screen presence.” He exudes menace, personifies malice; every deliciously diabolical line of dialogue that he delivers in his deep, gravelly growl is pure poetry, sending chills of terror down the viewer’s spine. Any scene that excludes him suffers for the omission—though even when he’s absent, his implicit threat still lingers, haunting the frame like a lurking specter, a whispered promise of calamity and impending doom.

Ultimately, director Akio Jissoji’s competent craftsmanship compensates for the movie’s minor formal and structural shortcomings; some mild narrative incoherence notwithstanding, Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis rarely fails to entertain. At the very least, it deserves credit for sheer ambition; precious few blockbusters nowadays dare to be this defiantly audacious and unconventional. Indeed, its superficial blemishes simply make its stylistic virtues more obvious and admirable. Warts and all, it is an essential genre masterpiece, worthy of being ranked alongside such horror classics as The Exorcist, Phantasm, and A Nightmare on Elm Street.

#Tokyo: The Last Megalopolis #Doomed Megalopolis #Doomed: The Last Megalopolis #Teito Monogatari #Yasunori Kato #Japan Society #Japanese film #Japanese cinema #Akio Jissoji #Kyusaku Shimada #film #writing #movie review

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tenebraevesper · 2 years

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Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 8: The Illusion Of Hope

''Can you feel life movin' through your mind? Ooh, looks like it came back for more! Yeah yeah yeah! Can you feel time slippin' down your spine? Ooooooh, you try and try to ignore! Yeah! But you can hardly swallow, your fears and pain. When you can't help but follow, it puts you right back where you came.''

– Live and Learn by Sonic Adventure 2 (NateWantsToBattle Cover)

xXxXxXx

Sonic stepped up, locking eyes with Shadow. So far, he and his friends had spent the entire day chasing the black hedgehog around, rushing from one place to another, and when they finally managed to confront him, it turned out that they were actually on a time limit and that no one is supposed to survive this ordeal. He tried to talk to Shadow and while he was thankful that he now understood his motives, this still didn't mean that he wasn't going to stop the latter from destroying everything he cared about.

''This battle has just begun,'' Shadow said, his voice calm, yet hollow. Sonic knew that usually, those who had nothing left to fight were also the ones who were the most dangerous. He turned to his partner.

''Lucas, leave Shadow to me,'' he said, with Lucas nodding. Sonic then charged at Shadow, with the latter dodging his attack and engaging in combat with the blue hedgehog. Lucas then turned to the rest of the team, quickly taking over, having already formed a plan.

''Knuckles and Silver, you two support Sonic,'' he said, with the grey hedgehog and red echidna nodding and joining the fight. ''Everyone else is coming with me. This way!''

While reluctant for a moment, everyone did as Lucas said, running after him. Tails flew up to Lucas, a questioning look on his expression. ''Shouldn't Amy and I also help in fighting Shadow?''

''No, I need you two to help us with something else,'' Lucas said, skidding to a halt at the main control room. ''I saw Sonic and Shadow coming out of this room and, well…''

The group's eyes widened in shock when they saw a huge monitor at the other end of the room, showing them the map of Neos City and the area around it, including Infinity Forest and the Codex Research Facility. They were all outlined red, with the monitor showing a message about the energy cores approaching dangerous levels and being close to exploding and turning everything into ashes.

''Lucas, what the hell is going on here?!'' Lily asked, still in shock.

''To keep it short, Shadow had set of some kind of explosive device that will blow up Neos City, if not the entire Starpoint Area,'' Lucas replied, turning to Warren and Tails, who snapped out of their shock. ''Warren, Tails, do you think you can shut this down?''

''We can try,'' Warren replied as he and Tails sat down at the computer Shadow was working on earlier and starting to type.

''I don't think that 'trying' is the appropriate response here,'' Tails said as he furiously hit the letters on the keyboard. Both he and his partner felt anxious as they tried to prevent the explosion. ''I-I think we're going to need a bit more time with this one. It looks like this program is powering up some kind of energy core… several of them to be precise. We cannot shut them down all at the same time, but we could try a manual approach, one by one.''

''How much time do we have left before the explosion?'' Lucas asked.

''I'd give us 15 minutes, give or take a few seconds,'' Warren said nervously, his mouth dry as he and Tails prepared for the manual shutdown. If either of them made a mistake or were a moment too slow, they would all die. ''I think we can manage it, but we need to act fast.''

''Okay, you do that,'' Lucas said, turning to the rest of the team. ''We need to find Touka. Com'n!''

''You did say that Touka was here, but why?'' Minami asked as they ran outside the room, stopping in the hallway.

''Shadow told us that he used to know Touka; I believe that he was her partner,'' Lucas replied, a little surprised that his friends still managed to keep their nerves after so much crucial information had been dumped onto them. ''He believes that she is dead and this is his way of getting revenge.''

''B-But, Touka is alive…'' Makoto pointed out, completely baffled. He and his friends had seen her during the battle with the Irregular and Metal Sonic at Eden.

''He thinks Sonic and I were lying about that,'' Lucas quickly responded, walking down the hallway. ''However, if we find her and bring her to Shadow, I'm sure he'll come to his senses and stop this madness.''

''Then, where are we supposed to search for her?'' Amy asked.

''I'm not sure,'' Lucas admitted, with his friends giving him an incredulous look. ''Ferra had told me that Touka went inside this building, but never exited it. If Shadow didn't come across her, then she is still probably somewhere inside.''

''Let me guess; if she didn't run out even after all of this commotion, then something must've happened to her,'' Lily said, crossing her arms. Lucas nodded.

''That's why we'll split up and check all of the rooms,'' he said, turning his gaze to the pink hedgehog. ''Amy, I came across several locked doors earlier, so I'll need you to break them for us. Maybe Touka got locked inside one of them.''

''No problem,'' Amy replied, summoning her Piko Piko Hammer out of a cloud of data.

''Then, let's go!'' Lucas said, the group splitting off in different directions.

Unknown to either of them, Ferra and Metal Sonic walked out of a narrow side-corridor, waiting until everyone was gone. Ferra's expression was that of pure horror, shaking as she as the consequences of her actions hit her like a truck. She and Metal had been observing Lucas, Sonic and Shadow from afar, followed by overhearing their conversation and taking note of Shadow's plans. What she had overheard shook her to her core.

How was I supposed to know that releasing Shadow will be the end of all of us?! Her mind was racing, matching her rapid heart beat as she started panicking. This was supposed to be a trap for Lucas and Sonic! I never wanted this to happen! What should I do? I can't-

Ferra's eyes widened and she was startled when she suddenly felt something cold wrapping around her hand. She looked down, surprised to see Metal Sonic holding her hand, giving her a determined look.

'Analyzing current development…' Metal Sonic stared at her. 'Your safety is the new priority. We are leaving at your signal.'

''Metal…'' Ferra was stunned, only to smile warmly. Despite his overpowering desire to defeat Sonic, it appeared that Metal would drop everything the moment she was in danger and keep her safe. She took a deep breath, giving him a confident look, pumping her fists. ''No, we're not running away.''

'Does not compute. Your safety is of primary concern,' Metal Sonic responded.

''I know that you're worried about me, but even if we escape Codex, we would still get caught in the explosion. Therefore, it won't make a difference,'' Ferra explained, crouching down to be at Metal Sonic's eye-level. ''Now, there is something we can do.''

Metal Sonic nodded. 'Awaiting new directions.'

''Good,'' Ferra said, nodding. ''I need you to activate your thermal detector. Lucas and his friends are currently running around like headless chicken, having no idea where Touka even might be. So, this should be a much faster way to find her.''

'New directions accepted,' Metal Sonic responded, his eyes starting to glow as he looked from side to side, scanning through the walls for any presence of Touka. Ferra just pressed her fingers against her AR Visor, with a holographic screen appearing before her, showing her what Metal Sonic saw.

Frankly, while she was willing to help Lucas and his friends to stop Shadow from going through with his plans, she certainly wasn't going to tell them who let ARNav version of the The Ultimate Life Form roam free. The last thing I need is to be blamed for that.

xXx

Sonic and Shadow spin-dashed into each other, too fast for Knuckles and Silver to follow. While Knuckles could punch the living daylights out of Shadow and Silver could use his psychokinesis to prevent him from moving at all, there was one issue with this plan – they had to have a clear target so they didn't hit Sonic on accident.

''This is bad,'' Silver muttered as Sonic and Shadow charged once again at each other, both seemingly equal in power and speed. ''We won't be able to do much unless they slow down.''

''Stay alert, Grey Hedgehog,'' Knuckles told him, keeping an eye on Shadow. ''The moment we have the opportunity, we attack.''

Shadow suddenly teleported behind Sonic, but the latter anticipated this move, spin-dashing into the darker hedgehog. Shadow hit the wall behind, but managed to get up, forming an bolt of energy and firing it at Sonic. However, before it could hit his opponent, it stopped mid-air, surrounded by cyan energy once again.

''Thanks, Silv!'' Sonic replied, with Silver grinning, and dashed back at Shadow. The two suddenly started to grapple with each other, neither being able to push the other away. Sonic's eyes narrowed as he locked eyes with Shadow. ''You're making a grave mistake.''

''I don't care.'' Shadow attempted to punch Sonic, but the latter dodged the attack, stepping back, only for Knuckles to suddenly charge between them, punching Shadow square in the chest. The dark hedgehog stumbled back, having to admit that Knuckles' attack actually did quite some damage. Knuckles attempted to punch Shadow once again, but the latter used his air shoes to skate backwards, dodging every single punch.

''Stop moving!'' Knuckles yelled furiously, swing after swing missing due to Shadow's superior speed. Suddenly, Shadow teleported away, leaving Knuckles puzzled for a moment, then appearing right behind the echidna and firing an energy bolt at point-blank range.

''Knux!'' Sonic and Silver cried out in worry as the energy bolt took the echidna out. Still, despite being on the ground, Knuckles was trying to get up. He rammed his fists, spikes first, into the nearby wall in an attempt to lift himself up, but Shadow suddenly spin-dashed into him. Or at least, he would've done so if his entire body hadn't been paralyzed by a cyan aura. He forced his head to move, realizing that it was Silver who kept him from attacking.

''The battle's over,'' Silver told him, his palms lined with cyan energy. Sonic and Knuckles had joined him, both badly bruised and a little out of breath, but otherwise fine. Shadow tried to move, but Silver's kept him in place. Shadow knew that, if he wanted to continue this fight, he would have to take the grey hedgehog out first.

xXx

''Ugh, open up!'' Lily slammed her foot against another locked door, which didn't budge. ''Hey, Amy, I need help over here!''

''On it!'' Amy ran up to Lily, who had moved away from the door, and swung her hammer, shattering the door knob. Lily then slammed the door open, but to her and Amy's disappointment, the room was empty. The two exchanged glances, with Amy adding, ''We need to keep moving. We're running out of time.''

''Amy, over here!'' Makoto yelled from afar, with Amy rushing towards him. Lily saw Lucas running past her and entering another room, his heart racing and him sighing in disappointment when he realized that it was empty.

''Lucas…'' The teenager turned suddenly towards Lily, noticing her look of dismay. Both knew that they didn't have much time left until everything exploded, but they were slowly losing hope. Unless they found Touka, or Warren and Tails managed to shut down the system responsible for the explosion, or Sonic, Knuckles and Silver had convinced Shadow to stop his rampage,… they would all die. Not only them, but everyone in Neos City as well. Lily took another deep breath and then nodded, a determined look on her expression. ''We need to continue.''

Lucas grinned and ran past her, but before he could move on to the next room, something blue flew past him, stopping suddenly at the door at the far end of the corridor. His eyes widened in shock. ''Metal Sonic?!''

Lily, Minami, Makoto and Amy had joined him, only for Ferra to run past them. ''Metal has detected a body in that room. You better pray that it's Touka!''

''What are you doing here?!'' Lucas asked, snapping out of his shock and following her.

''It's a long story, but for now, we're just trying to survive!'' Ferra replied, grabbing the door knob, only to realize that it wouldn't budge. ''Ugh, stupid thing is locked! Okay, Metal, blast it apart!''

''Wait!'' Just as Metal Sonic was about to charge up an energy blast, Amy ran up to them, brandishing her hammer. ''If Touka's close, you might hurt her as well.'' She then swung her hammer at the door knob, shattering it. She then kicked the door in, causing it to slam open. A wave of relief washed over her when she saw a figure lying on the floor, unconscious. ''She's here!''

Ferra and Metal Sonic stepped away, allowing Lucas to run inside, with Makoto, Minami, Lily and Amy hanging back, watching as Lucas checked on Touka. He looked up at them. ''She's still breathing.''

''Thank goodness,'' Minami breathed a sigh of relief and entered the room, while Lucas tried to wake Touka up.

''Hey, Touka,… Touka!'' he shook her shoulder. At first, she was motionless, but then she groaned, blinking as she tried to open her eyes. ''Touka, are you okay?''

''Mmm-hm…'' Touka tried to get up, but felt a suddenly wave of nausea, followed by a throbbing headache. ''My head… is killing me.''

''Well, you won't be complaining about that anymore once you get blown up to pieces,'' Ferra said, her arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. Touka suddenly looked up at her, puzzled.

''Wh-What?''

''Never mind that, we need to clear something,'' Lucas said, helping Touka up. ''You know Shadow, right?''

''Y-Yeah…'' Touka said, her gaze shifting from Ferra to Lucas, rising an eyebrow. ''Why… Why are you here?''

''We'll explain everything in detail later,'' Lucas told her, holding her by her arm as Touka was still unsure on her feet. ''All you need to know is that Shadow believes that you're dead and he's trying to blow up all of us and Neos City. You need to go and tell him to stop.''

''What?!'' Touka's eyes grew wide in shock, trying to comprehend what she had been told.

''We don't have much time left! We need to hurry!'' Minami told them in an urgent tone. Suddenly, all of them heard a loud explosion coming from the other side of the building. The group exchanged looks, all of them shaken to the core.

''That was Sonic, Knuckles and Silver fighting Shadow,'' Lucas said, looking at Touka. She just nodded.

''Lead the way!''

xXx

Silver hovered Shadow a bit closer to him, Sonic and Knuckles, still making sure that there was a reasonable distance between them in case Shadow tried something. There was no way that he would let the darker hedgehog escape.

''Give up Shadow,'' Sonic said. ''As Silver said, it's over.''

''You were a powerful opponent, but even the toughest of warriors know when it is time to surrender,'' Knuckles added.

Shadow remained silent, observing the three. He tried to move, but Silver was holding him tight in place. Still, despite that, he wasn't down for the count yet. He hadn't battled Knuckles and Silver before, so he didn't know what they were capable of, resulting in underestimating the two. He lowered his head.

''I refuse. I will never give up,'' he said, tapping into his energy reserves, hoping that his plan would work. ''Chaos Control!''

Much to Sonic, Knuckles and, especially, Silver's shock, Shadow teleported out of the cyan aura that kept him in place. He then appeared before the three, an energy bolt forming in his hands. ''Chaos Spear!''

Fortunately, Silver managed to raise a cyan barrier to block the attack. ''Take this!'' Silver then pushed the cyan barrier at Shadow in an attempt to pin him against the wall. However, Shadow used his air skates to push back against the cyan barrier, refusing to let the grey hedgehog return him to an immobile state once again. Unfortunately for him, Silver's psychokinesis was more powerful.

''Knux, fastball special, now!'' Sonic turned to Knuckles, who nodded. He then curled into a ball and Knuckles grabbed him, hurling him straight into Shadow, with Silver lifting the barrier away in the last second.

Sonic spin-dashed into Shadow, finally knocking the black hedgehog off his feet. However, despite being on the ground, Shadow was still trying to get up, showing baffling persistence. Sonic knew that they were running out of time and that there was nothing that there would convince Shadow to stop this explosion from happening. He was too consumed by grief and rage to listen to anyone, to the point that Sonic had to wonder whether Shadow was even concerned with his own survival.

Shadow had finally managed to get up, stepping towards them. He was breathing heavily, his expression showing nothing but pure fury. Sonic stepped back, joining Knuckles and Silver as they anticipated Shadow's next move, only to be stunned when Shadow's body suddenly started to glow, a red aura surrounding him as he charged up energy. The red aura formed a sphere around Shadow as he crossed his arms, hovering in the air for a brief moment, only to unfold them, releasing a massive wave of energy.

''Chaos Blast!''

The energy blast resulted in a massive explosion, blowing up the entire area and taking Sonic, Knuckles and Silver down. Shadow landed on the ground, winded from the attack that had been fueled by his anger, hatred and pain. He still felt the adrenaline rushing through his body as he approached Sonic, standing right in front of the fallen blue hedgehog.

''I told you, I refuse to give up, Hedgehog'' he said.

''Wh-Why don't you leave?'' Sonic asked, trying to lift his head, locking eyes with Shadow. ''Y-You'll die a-as well…''

This question left Shadow stunned momentarily. As much as he had to admire Sonic's tenacity and ability to keep up with him, he couldn't understand why he was determined to talk to him, to learn more about him. Why was Sonic showing so much concern regarding his emotional and mental state? They were enemies, nothing more and nothing less. Shadow had already shown that he didn't care for him or any of his friends and was willing to kill all of them in order to fulfill his own goals.

''Do you really have nothing to live for?'' Sonic asked as he got up, pressing his hand against his shoulder and looking unsafe on his feet. Despite the beating he took, he was still smiling, baffling Shadow. How could Sonic still be willing to talk to him like this? Sonic then sighed, shaking his head. ''I guess that is what makes you so dangerous. You believe that you have nothing left to lose.''

''I agree, I have nothing left to lose,'' Shadow said, well aware that there is nothing Sonic could do. What he didn't expect was for Sonic to suddenly sucker punch him, causing him to stumble back. Shadow was shocked, rubbing his bruised cheek.

''Well, I disagree!'' Sonic told him firmly, with Knuckles and Silver standing up behind him, both still willing to continue the fight. ''Even if that's that path you have chosen, I won't give up. I will continue to fight for my friends, for Neos City, and for you as well. You might believe that I'm lying, but there is someone waiting for you.''

Knuckles and Silver stared at Sonic. While they may not have had access to the full story behind this fight, as everything happened to fast and not much had been explained, they still trusted Sonic with whatever plan he had. However, before either of them could even continue with the battle, Lucas' team suddenly ran into the area, followed by a cry that shook Shadow to his very core.

''Shadow, please, stop this!''

Shadow stared in shock at the very person he believed to be dead for so long. His crimson eyes were wide and his body was paralyzed, his heart racing as a storm of emotions hit him with full force. ''N-No… It can't be… This- This isn't possible…''

It felt like a dream. The person he cared about the most, the one he fought for and the one who wanted to avenge was standing right in front of him, alive and well.

xXx

''I wonder why Shadow didn't follow us?'' Tails said as he and Warren started to work on the last energy core. They had heard the explosion from earlier, but hoped that it was a good sign. ''He is probably aware that we're trying to stop this explosion from happening.''

''Maybe he's too distracted by Sonic, Knuckles and Silver to even think about what we're doing,'' Warren replied, trying to get their hopes up. He looked at the timer on the nearby monitor, noting that they only had less than five minutes left. ''We should be done soon.''

''Com'n, com'n!'' Tails hissed, his eyes darting across the monitor as he typed in the code at rapid speed. ''We can do this- Yes!''

''No!'' Tails' cry of relief was interrupted by Warren's cry of dismay when another screen popped up on the monitor, this one demanding that, if they wanted to shut down the system, to enter a specific password. He and Tails exchanged glances, with panic starting to set in. ''I think we now know why Shadow hadn't followed us. He made sure that no one but him would be able to stop this explosion from happening.''

''We have to do something!'' Tails yelled, mashing furiously as he tried to figure out the password, his ears pinned down as he began tearing up. Warren shook his head.

''I hate to say it, but even if we tried a roundabout way to find the password, we won't have the time,'' Warren said, opening up another screen and accessing the intercom. He had hoped that his friends had dealt with Shadow, else they could just wait for their inevitable death. He glanced at his partner, who was still determined to stop this. He knew that they would both fight to the bitter end.

xXx

''Shadow…'' Touka took a tentative step towards Shadow, her voice gentle and a bitter smile on her lips. ''I-I'm so sorry… I never wanted you to suffer this much.''

''You… You were supposed to be dead,'' Shadow responded, barely able to hold himself back. ''I saw you die!''

''I-I don't know what to say,'' Touka replied, lowering her head, then looking back at Shadow with a sorrowful gaze. ''I don't remember much about what had happened. All I know is that I woke up six months ago and all of my memories were suddenly gone.'' Her eyes were watering, but she tried to keep her gaze and voice steady. ''I never wanted any of this to happen. I beg of you, Shadow! Please, stop!''

Before Shadow could respond, they suddenly heard crackling over the intercom, followed by Warren's voice. ''Everyone, I have bad news. There is only about a minute and a half left on the timer and Tails and I still need the password to prevent this explosion from happening, otherwise we're toast. So, it's do or die now…''

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed this information. Suddenly, an orange and black blur sped past everyone, going towards the main control room. Warren and Tails were surprised to see Shadow walking up to them, both jumping out of their seats as they watched him type the password in. All of the flashing warnings vanished, showing that the energy cores were cooling down and that the danger was over. Shadow stepped back, his gaze lowering as he avoided Warren and Tails' look.

''It's over. If you want to make sure that this doesn't repeat, you'll have to discard the energy cores at the storage area,'' he told them in a cold tone. That was when Warren and Tails fell on the nearby chairs, breathing a huge sigh of relief, looking at each and then started to laugh, with Tails jumping into Warren's arms, both embracing in joy.

''We did it! We did it!'' they cried out together.

Shadow stepped away from them, turning his head towards the rest of the group as they entered the main control room. Lucas, Lily and Makoto were supporting the badly beaten Sonic, Knuckles and Silver, followed by an anxious Touka, who in turn was followed by Minami and Amy, with Amy keeping a tight grip on her hammer as the two kept an eye on Ferra and Metal Sonic. Ferra and Metal Sonic decided to hang back, remaining close to the entrance and observing the situation.

''The crisis had been averted,'' Warren told Lucas, who nodded in acknowledgement, letting Sonic sit down on a nearby table.

''Okay, I believe that now we can talk and share information,'' Lucas said, looking at Touka and Shadow, the dark-furred hedgehog having walked over to the former and standing close to her, as well as Ferra and Metal Sonic. ''You need an explanation to us what is going on here. We are not going to fight anymore, but we need everyone to co-operate, be honest and tell us what you know.''

''We already do know that something really bad had happened here,'' Sonic continued, swinging his feet. ''Bad enough for a certain someone to try to nuke the entire Starpoint Area.''

There were raised eyebrows and questioning looks, mostly coming from Knuckles and Silver who hadn't been briefed on the explosion situation, all of them directed towards Touka and Shadow. Shadow was standing behind Touka, silent, staring ahead at the ground and avoiding eye-contact with everyone else, still processing the initial shock he felt when he saw Touka. He clenched his fist as a wave of remorse, guilt and shame washed over him as it dawned upon him that, hadn't Sonic and his friends rushed in to stop him, he would've killed Touka unknowingly – this time, for real.

How… How could I let this happen? Shadow's clenched fist was trembling as cold chills were flowing through his body. He was bitter, angry, hateful towards the world for all the suffering he had to go through, and all of that had blinded him, leaving him focused on only getting revenge. Had he known that Touka was inside the building, that she was still alive, then maybe he wouldn't have gone this path… right? Shadow's ears were pinned down as he remembered all the research logs he had found. I had been created to be a weapon, so, even with Touka's presence...

Shadow's thought process had suddenly been cut off by an audible sigh from Touka, who had crossed her arms, leaning slightly against a nearby table while still standing before him and staring at Lucas and Sonic. ''Look, I don't want to talk about this, since it hurts me, and I mean physically hurts me to remember stuff from my past. I woke up around six months ago with complete amnesia and no clue who I was, and those memories only started to resurface recently. I remember more than I did before and I know now that I spent my whole life here, along with Shadow, unable to leave because the people in charge of us said so.''

''Why were you two even here?'' Minami asked curiously.

''I wish I knew,'' Touka responded, exchanging glances with Shadow. ''I don't even remember the period of time before I had arrived here and Shadow had been created here.''

''Wait, seriously?!'' Makoto voiced everyone's reaction, with the whole group staring at Shadow in surprise. The dark hedgehog just glared back, not responding.

''Okay, could we just rewind back for a moment?'' Sonic said, pressing his fingers against his temples as he processed the information, then turned to Touka and Shadow. ''What exactly is the Codex Research Facility and why does it look like it had been abandoned for years?''

''Well, from what I remember, the Codex Research Facility had been established as a major research institute, mainly focusing on Irregulars and AR technology,'' Touka replied, then placed a finger on her lips, looking upwards. ''If I remember correctly, they were also investigating BioEnergy.''

''It wasn't only that.'' To everyone's surprise, Shadow rose his voice, his arms crossed as he looked at them with a stern look on his expression. ''The scientists at Codex had also covered other fields, like genetics, medical research, renewable energy and weaponization of AR technology for the government and military.''

''Sheesh, that's a lot of stuff,'' Lily commented, raising an eyebrow. Makoto turned to Silver.

''Hey, Silver, was there any mention of the Codex Research Facility in your future?'' he asked. Silver shook his head.

''No, not that I know of,'' Silver answered, shrugging.

''That shouldn't be all too surprising,'' Shadow said, drawing Silver's attention. ''This place wasn't supposed to be known to anyone, especially after it had been abandoned.''

''You mean, like a government cover up?'' Minami asked, with Shadow nodding curtly. To his surprise, she pumped her fists, looking excited. ''Ha, I knew this would be a government conspiracy type of thing! And we're in the middle of one of their abandoned facilities! This gives me Area 20-01 vibes!''

''What are you talking about?'' Knuckles asked, his arms folded across his chest. ''Are you speaking in tongues?''

''No, she's just addressing one of those urban legends,'' Amy told him. ''I think the Area 20-01 was the one about the government experimenting on mutants and aliens from the outer space.''

''Exactly,'' Minami said, winking and wagging her index finger. ''Although, it is possible that there is some truth to it. We need proof, though.''

''Could- Could we just return back to the main topic?'' Makoto asked, sighing in exasperation. He then turned back to Touka and Shadow. ''Why had this place been abandoned?''

''I don't know,'' Touka replied, shaking her head. ''I mean, the last thing I remember is being attacked by an Irregular.''

Shadow tensed as he heard that, looking at her and wondering just how much she had remembered. He wasn't sure whether he even wanted her to remember the whole situation, only for a voice in the back of his head to scold him for thinking that way.

''What do you mean, you were attacked by an Irregular?'' Warren asked. Touka fell silent for a moment, then walked past everyone, with Shadow quickly following her outside in the hallway. The group exchanged confused glances, then followed them. Ferra and Metal Sonic waited for everyone to leave, with Metal Sonic giving Ferra a questioning look. Ferra sighed, following everyone else.

''So far, this had been quite entertaining,'' she told him. ''Let's see where this is going.''

Metal Sonic wasn't completely sure what the point of this was anymore, as he didn't get to fight Sonic nor did they manage to record any useful data about manipulating BioEnergy as a form of empowerment, and they had also almost died thanks to Shadow's actions. He still followed Ferra, though, trusting her and believing that she knew what she was doing… even if releasing Shadow was a mistake.

Touka and Shadow meanwhile walked down the hallway, with Touka jogging lightly as she looked from door to door. Shadow gave her a curious look. ''What are you trying to do?''

''I'm retracing my steps,'' Touka answered, with Shadow realizing that she was trying to find the room where the battle took place. Now, why she didn't ask him what had happened, he had no idea. However, with or without her memories, he knew that this was something the Touka he knew would do. ''It should be somewhere here.''

She and Shadow slowed down, ignoring the rest of the group behind them. Touka, who had finally gotten a better look at some od the doors, noticed that some were busted, courtesy of Amy's Piko Piko Hammer. Shadow's ears perked up when he heard Touka muttering, ''This whole hallway had been locked up at the time.''

''How much do you remember?'' Shadow asked her curiously.

''Not as much as I want to,'' Touka replied. ''It's like I'm just getting flashes of what had happened, but I cannot piece it together into a coherent sequence. However, walking through this place helps me with that.''

They then stopped in front of a door, which was closed, but not locked. Shadow tensed as Touka grabbed the door knob, opening it and letting the door open wide before stepping inside. Shadow followed her, only to be suddenly transported back into the past. While the room was quite dusty, it was still a wreck from the battle between the Irregular and Shadow, looking like a bomb had exploded there. It appeared that no one cared to clean it up, or they didn't have the time or will to do that. Touka was silent as she observed the room, with Shadow wondering what was going through her head.

''What has happened here?'' Tails asked, entering the room.

''It kind of looks similar like the aftermath of our battle with Sha-'' Silver cut himself off when he saw the darker hedgehog glaring at him, while Silver gave him a nervous look. It was clear to him that this was something Shadow didn't want to discuss.

''You did say that you had been attacked by an Irregular,'' Warren said, looking at Touka, who seemed to be more willing to share information than Shadow, even though it was only because she was trying to remember her own past.

''We did,'' Touka replied. ''But, what happened afterwards, I have no idea.''

''Why was an Irregular even here?'' Amy asked.

''I think it broke out of its containment…'' Touka muttered, recalling the sound of a blaring siren and the red flashing lights. Shadow didn't bother to correct her that the Irregular had been released on purpose. Touka then shrugged, adding in a dismissive tone, ''However, I don't think it matters anymore. That stuff is now in the past and what happened cannot be changed.''

Lucas rose an eyebrow, feeling that the Codex Research Facility was still worth investigating, despite Touka's dismissive tone. He was about to ask her what else she knew, when he saw a crystallic substance on the floor in the hallway. He briefly stepped out, realizing that there was more of it down the corridor. ''What's that? This wasn't here earlier.''

''Hey, those are the crystals we saw earlier,'' Silver said. Tails flew over, crouching next to them.

''You're right,'' he said, rising an eyebrow. ''Why did they appear here?''

''What are you guys talking about?'' Lily asked.

''It's a long story,'' Tails responded, reaching for his backpack to grab the Miles Electric, only to realize that he had left his backpack at the main control room. He turned to Sonic. ''Sonic, could you go and grab my backpack? It's back at that computer room.''

''Sure thing,'' Sonic replied and ran off, disappearing before anyone could even blink. However, just as the conversation was supposed to continue, Lucas suddenly got a call on his AR Visor, letting a holographic screen appear.

''Sonic, why are-?'' Lucas was about to question the blue hedgehog, but got cut off by Sonic.

''I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a situation here,'' Sonic interrupted, having grabbed the holographic screen and pointing it towards the main monitor in the room, which displayed a map of Neos City, with warning screens popping up next to it, as well as a timer. ''The countdown has started again!''

Links:

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#Sonic Cyber Revolution (Masterlist)

#Sonic Cyber Revolution #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #miles tails prower #amy rose #metal sonic #mephiles the dark #sonic adventure 2

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krushkreates · 2 years

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first

started a 30 day writing challenge but the redacted version and forgot to post day one on here! this series will be on my ao3 and the link to it will be posted on here as well

day 1: write about a first kiss gavin x freelancer, courtesy of the wheel of names

cross posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39447486

gavin didn't know why the thought of kissing the freelancer made him so nervous.

—

Gavin’s had many “firsts” in his life (mainly first times). He wouldn’t have enough time in a day to recount the amount of them or the amount of sheepish “it was actually my first time” confessions he’d gotten.

First meant nothing to him now. It didn’t have some sort of rank or hold over anything or anyone he chose to do. First to him was being handed a participation trophy while standing on the platform. It glittered and shined but it just reflected how he felt on the inside: hollow. He looked shiny and beautiful on the outside, but there wasn’t anything left to him. God forbid if anything had fallen in, it was picked dry the second it hit the rim.

Until there they were.

With their lost eyes and clueless attitude rudely interrupting what was perhaps the worst blowjob he’s ever received (and that’s saying something), he felt like he could actually be something again. They had asked where the D.A.M.N. campus was, with full sincerity and a complete lack of care for covert. He had laughed sincerely that day, for the first time in years. Their aura was enchanting. Drenched in power, it seemed to fill his own threads. They sung to him, their aria so sweet and melodic. How could he ignore that?

Kissing is second nature to him. Gavin’s a firm believer in theory that kissing leads to sex, regardless of how innocent it starts off. He relishes it. Tasting someone else and getting to tease them without being overtly sexual was one of his favorite pastimes.

So why in the hell was he so nervous to kiss them?

He had to play it cool though. Rifting into the Freelancer’s apartment unannounced and boldly declaring his motivation behind finding said apartment left no room for anxiety. His hands feel like they might shake a little and his cheeks might give him away if the blush creeps from his neck to his face. His voice threatens to crack and there’s sweat threatening to bead at his hairline. What the actual hell is wrong with him?

His hands gently caressed them, their body instinctively and instantly reacting to his touch. Their threads itched to reach him. There was that melody again, he mused as he made work on their neck. It was aural ambrosia to him. It was nectar that dripped into his veins, casting light onto any shadows that might have lingered around him.

He pushed those thoughts to the recesses of his mind as the Freelancer gently pushed him back from their neck to face him.

“Can I?” they whispered, eyes flickering up to meet his.

He nodded; his hands moved to cup their jaw as both of their eyes closed.

Gavin’s had a lot of “first” kisses in his life, but none have come close to theirs.

#redacted asmr #redacted fics #redacted gavin #redacted freelancer #pining #mutual pining #krush fics #fanfic #look an actual fic #30 day writing challenge

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bluepenguinstories · 2 years

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Remoras Full Chapter LXIV: Adrasteia

My eyes stirred until they shot open, met with a darkened, empty room. Well, empty was relative, as I made out the shapes of two people who sat next to each other, and across from me.

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake. You were trying to –” A heavy, frosty voice greeted, and I wondered what she would have said next, were it not for the other person’s hand covering her mouth. For some reason, her voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“Shh. Let’s not overload the girl. She just woke up,” the other woman scolded, even though she had a light, breezy voice.

Ugh. Who are these people? Where am I? Last I remember…

I crashed in the middle of some empty street. As soon as I landed, I pounded my fist against the already cracked gravel road.

“Why? I was so close…” I cursed as my eyes burned. Then, upon realizing what I said, I shook my head, “no, I wanted to...what did I even want?”

Behind me, a low and hollow sounding voice rumbled:

“Perhaps I could be of assistance?”

I turned, and at the same instance, a shadowy, claw-like shape slashed forward and tore off the rest of the wings off my back, as well as a chunk of the armor from my left side. Despite the damage to the armor, it didn’t make any deep cuts against my skin, and at most, I felt scrapes as the armor tore off.

“Who the hell are you?” I growled as I saw what looked like a tall, robed pale man with a swollen face full of gashes and maggots crawling about. It had nothing to with his face that unnerved me, but rather the shadow that had damaged my armor with such ease, and the fact that I didn’t notice him when I landed.

Maybe ‘what’, rather than ‘who’ would have been the better word to use.

Rather than answer my question, he grabbed me by the neck and lifted me up. I should have been able to deflect it, fight back, something. I couldn’t tell why I was so disoriented and caught off-guard and the fact that I was served to frustrate me further.

“Remora’s got more skeletons in her closet than just your old man,” he rasped with a crooked smile.

“What?” I struggled to speak as well as struggled to break myself free. I didn’t manage the latter so well.

“We have the same goal. Even the same motivation: she both took something from us. That was why I was willing to stand back, let you do your thing. But twice now you’ve failed to kill her, and I have lost all patience with you. So now, I’ll kill you and possess your corpse. Don’t worry, I’ll finish the job for both of us.”

I don’t even know who, or what, you are. Why would a supernatural being like you exist, and what do you have to do with Remora? Why is this world so messed up?

What happened next was fuzzy. All I could tell was that the strange man wasn’t around anymore and who accompanied me now were two strange women who I couldn’t tell any of their features, only the outline of their tall frames.

Wait. Am I dead?

“Is this the afterlife?” I asked.

From one of the women, the one I noticed had longer hair, came a snicker. The other one, with shorter hair, answered in earnest.

“It could be. Wendy did say this is a ghost town,” and rather than the frostiness of before, now she sounded just dull and still.

Just like Remora’s…

Wait a second. As I leaned in, and noticed a few more of her features, the short blue hair, the muscular structure, the tan skin. Her dry, lack of expression.

Was I saved by Remora? The person I wanted to kill. What cruel irony. No, that can’t be. The woman next to her doesn’t sound like Sunny and...I don’t know. There’s something different here that I can’t quite place.

I hung my head low. To find myself in such a predicament...what a disgrace. Everything about me seemed to be defined by loss. I thought I was getting somewhere: I found my father’s killer, I got a gig protecting the daughter of a wealthy family, I drank absinthe for the first time, and I met a cutie. She even invited me to stay at her spare house in Alaska (it seems she too had possession of a great deal of money).

Of course, that all had to go downhill, and I didn’t know whether or not to blame it on my second loss against Remora, or just before that. Maybe it was when I went to hang out with Cybele. Maybe it was before that, when I began to question what it was I really wanted: justice or murder? I thought I knew what I wanted, I was starting to gain things again, and now...now what was I?

“Hey,” the cold one snapped her fingers, “got a name?”

“Rhea,” I answered with a scowl. It had to be her, but also, that was impossible, wasn’t it?

“No. I know that’s not your name, because –”

“How are you alive? It shouldn’t be possible.”

“God damn it. How does someone else know me?” She turned away from me and cursed.

“Answer the question.”

“Beats me – now answer mine: how do you know me?”

“Your other self killed my father.”

“I see,” she paused. “Sorry about her recklessness.”

It’s ‘her recklessness’, not ‘sorry for your loss’. Then again, should I expect anything more from someone with such a cold reputation?

“Damn. I didn’t know she had it in her,” the other one remarked.

“It was before she went by the name Remora. In other words, your name,” I faced the blue haired woman, even if I wished to know who the other person was. “How is it possible you’re still alive, anyway? I mean, the both of you…”

“Yeah. I’m as confused about it as you are.”

“Why you?” I pounded my fists against the wall behind me, “out of all the people to come back, why you? Why not my father? Why not Gracie?”

“There’s at least a million other people who deserve to live more than I do. But the world doesn’t operate on who deserves what. It never has.”

No. It was real. She was real. But it still made no sense as to how. And I was only thankful for the shadows around the room obscuring her face, as even hearing her voice struck a nerve in me.

“Which brings us to the original question: what should I call you?”

“Nemesis.”

“Huh. That’s an odd name.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“I’m Wendy,” the other woman reached out her hand. I noticed her faded out purple hair, mixed in with some strands of gray. Even with some faint signs of age, some wrinkles and crow’s feet, she had a firm grip as I shook her hand, and there was still a youthfulness to the way she carried herself.

“Nice to meet you. For the record, both of you, I’ve tried to kill Remora. Twice.”

They both looked at each other, then back to me. Rhea just shrugged.

“Okay. So?”

“So?! She’s your other self. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“That’s between you and her. I could say that maybe this is the universe’s way of evening things out, but something tells me the universe doesn’t really care about such bullshit.”

“I want to bring her to justice for what she’s done. Either by killing her or some equal punishment for what she has done.”

“Have you thought about how you would go about it? Like, stabbing, shooting, strangulation, drowning, poisoning? Anything like that?”

“The method doesn’t matter.”

“If that’s the case, then why do you have to be the one to do it? If all you want is for her to be killed, hire someone else to do it. It would be one less thing for you to stress about, wouldn’t it? Oh, but what if they fail? You better hire someone good, don’t you think?”

“No. I’m not hiring anyone. I have to be the one to do it.”

“But why? Why should it matter if it’s you or some bloke across the street from you? Better yet, wait until she grows old, or something else kills her. As long as she’s dead, it doesn’t matter, right? The price is repaid.”

I shook my head.

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“I get what you think I ought to get.”

“If I just leave her alone, she’ll never learn her lesson.”

“Oh, is that what this is about? I was fine before with the idea of you killing her, but if you want her to learn something, how’s she going to do that when she’s dead?”

“It’s...because…”

“I get it,” Wendy said, “it’s personal for you. It can’t be anyone else. It’s an injustice that needs to be corrected, yes?”

I nodded.

“How did you find out she was the one who did it?”

“I was there. I didn’t watch it happen, but...he said he had to take care of something. I stood out and waited for him, and she showed up instead. She looked stunned, she...called and informed emergency services that my father was dead. I was too young to understand that she was the cause, but I wasn’t much older when I put the pieces together. I just couldn’t do anything about it. I guess...after my first fight with her, she told me she felt guilty. That she didn’t know he had a daughter. Like that was supposed to soften the blow.”

“Tch,” came the bitter blue, “this is what I meant by ‘reckless’. You’re supposed to have as many details as possible. You ought to be aware of your surroundings so you know what to expect. If she did as she should have, him having a daughter wouldn’t have come off as a surprise.”

“Hello? I’m right here,” I reminded her.

“I already know that. I have eyes.”

“Have you ever taken a life?” Wendy then asked.

“Yes. One.”

“Would you mind sharing the details, or would it be too much of a touchy subject? Then again, you’ve already told us some stuff others might find traumatic. May as well go all the way, right?” She smirked.

“The man who murdered my girlfriend,” I sighed. “I was right next to her. Right next to him. And she still died. Rage took over, and...I couldn’t stand to let him take another breath.”

“So you expect the same thing to happen with her, huh?” Rhea chimed in. “But you’re years removed. You weren’t there. And whatever person she is now isn’t killing anyone in front of you, so you don’t get to feel that rage.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve felt this since I was young. I’ve come close twice now. Don’t you think that means something?”

“If it means something to you, it must mean something.”

“I’ve felt a similar rage,” Wendy sympathized, or at least, that was my impression. “In my case, I was accused of a murder I had nothing to do with. It’s kind of a joke, so maybe that wasn’t what really went down. After all, I murdered my accusers, and the ones who were set to execute me. Then, I fled.”

“I was set up as well,” I related, “or rather, the damage to the mafia headquarters that I had killed a man in caught fire. He killed the mafia gang members himself. He set the fire. But with no other witnesses, and I the only survivor, I was pinned as the culprit. So I fled.”

“Ah, but when my pursuers caught up to me, I killed them as well,” she smirked again, “see, it’s a little curse of mine; they call me a cockroach for a reason. That self-preservation of mine. No matter how many times I should have died, I just don’t. What about you? Did you kill the cops that chased you down?”

“No,” I balked at such an idea, “I just hid somewhere they wouldn’t find me.”

“I understand your desire for justice, even if my own sense of it tends to just boil down to ‘whatever I don’t like to see’. If you need help in any way –”

“I don’t need help. In any way,” I stopped her before she finished. Her smile lowered, but not quite a frown, and it returned just as fast.

“Suit yourself. I’m quite lazy in my old age. I’d rather not do anything if I don’t have to.”

Old age? What’s that? Her 40s? There’s no way she’s much older than that.

“You know why you haven’t been able to kill her yet?” Rhea cut in again. And boy, did she cut deep.

“Because Sunny was there to stop me. Twice.”

“That has nothing to do with it. If you really wanted to, you could probably have had it done in one quick strike.”

“Are you questioning my conviction?”

“Yes. After all, you lack cruelty.”

“Cruelty?” I scoffed. “I’m not kind. I’ve already killed someone.”

“That has nothing to do with it. Maybe the better way to phrase it is the cruelty of complacency. I may not take another life for so long as this one lasts, but I still have that cruelty in me. So does Wendy. It’s what makes us see murder as just a simple thing to do. Most people can take a life, but it’s a great ordeal. Like it or not, you’re one of those people. For us? It’s a matter of how difficult our opponent is.”

“All of you janitors, or whoever once was, are terrible.”

“I won’t deny that. Our lives revolved around death – some look forward to it, others see it as incidental.”

“Then what about her?” I pointed over at Wendy.

“I’ve been looking forward to my own death for a while now. It just hasn’t come,” Wendy replied. “I know I won’t live forever, but it sure feels like I already have.”

“You’re nuts.”

“On a good day, I’m almonds. On a bad day, I’m peanuts.”

I shook my head. I thought Rhea was the literal one...or maybe Wendy had some quirk of her own I just hadn’t caught on to.

“If you ask me, you got off easy,” Rhea said as if I ever asked in the first place. “At least she felt bad about killing your father.”

“What? Like that’s supposed to mean much. Oh, it could have been worse, could it? Well it could have been a hell of a lot better, too.”

“Indeed. If it had been me instead of her, I would have made it so that you thought he just walked out on you. You would have never known I was there or who I was.”

“You would have still carried out the job?” Wendy asked her. I’m sure I would have asked the same thing had Rhea not struck several nerves at once like my nervous system was made up of strings on a guitar.

“I believe so.”

“See, that’s what made you and I different. I often went against jobs I was sent to carry out if I found them unjust or sympathized with the potential victims. Somehow, they never fired me or sent other members after me. They must have known my reputation.”

“I guess I learned that lesson a little too late,” she chuckled, “after all, the whole reason I died in the first place was because I let her kill me. Her existence posed a threat to the world, but world be damned, it just wasn’t right. Neither of us wanted the lives we had, she just happened to have the chance to change hers. I heard from her recently, and she seems to be doing better with herself. It’s crazy to think about, but I really do want to see her, and especially, her wife again.”

“Why?” I found myself asking.

“Because they’re the only connection to this world I have. Since my return, I’ve met several people, but her and her wife are the ones who actually mean something to me.”

“So you do have a heart,” I scoffed.

“Yes. And it pumps blood and makes little bum-bum sounds.”

“That’s not…” I shook my head and stopped myself.

“They invited me to stay with them. That’s where Wendy and I are headed, to their place. It’s just that I don’t think I should arrive as I am. Especially since they’re expecting Rachel. In other words, I need to shave my head.”

“I don’t get it.”

“But would it be right to lie to them? At the same time, appearing as myself could open up old wounds…”

“You didn’t strike me as the type to consider other people’s feelings.”

“I’m just trying to be practical here.”

“There doesn’t seem to be a clear answer. Do what you feel is best, I guess.”

“I’ll just go as Rachel, like planned.”

Wendy clapped, breaking any would-be silence that was sure to creep up on us.

“Nice chats, yeah? Let’s hurry up and check into the inn already,” she announced.

“Well, see you guys,” I started to get up. Wendy got up first and pulled me toward her.

“You’re coming with us. You may not remember, but you were attacked by a strange man.”

“She was?” Rhea asked.

Screw you, I’m the one who asks questions around here.

“I was?” I looked into her piercing gaze and asked.

She nodded.

“Not only that, but your armor is damaged. Do you have anywhere else to go tonight?”

“Guh,” I grunted, before admitting, “no. I guess not.”

“Good,” she smiled, “then stay with us for a night. Then you can be on your way.”

“We were supposed to be at this ghostly inn anyway, but Wendy insisted that we wait for you to wake up and took you to this creepy abandoned building. I swear, this whole time I’ve been hearing frogs croaking. For the record, none of this was my idea.”

“Fine,” I groaned, “let’s go.”

We kicked down the door which led outside. The purple night sky bled into the innards of the empty vessel which we had occupied. Its starless gaze stained my irises, and it left me wishing for a better view. Or maybe no view at all.

On the empty streets, I spotted shattered glass littered about. My memory wasn’t the best, but I was so sure I didn’t see anything like that earlier. As we walked a little down the road, toward the one building with a bright milky glow, I turned to Wendy.

“How do you know what happened with me here when I don’t even recall any of that?” I asked her.

“Do you believe in angels?”

“Why? Are you going to say that you are one?”

“No. I don’t have any one emotion in particular. I just happened to be in the area.”

Creepy…

“I know about the cosmic entities that some call ‘angels’. Nasty things. My armor was apparently made from one. I don’t see how that’s possible, and yet…”

“Who did you say your father was?”

“A fellow janitor. I’m sure if I wasn’t raised by him, I would have regarded him as an enemy as well. His name was Smith Wesson.”

“Hmm…” It was Rhea who looked lost in thought, with her hand on her chin.

“You heard of him?” Wendy asked her.

“Not sure. I didn’t know everybody. But I might have heard of him in passing. Can’t recall, though.”

“I tried to know about as many people as I could. He was...a large man. Not larger than life, but built like a bear. From what I heard, he was a raised hunter and treated each job like a sport. Still, he didn’t seem like someone who liked the idea of killing without a purpose, and if I had to guess, that might have been what led to him deserting the company. That armor you’re wearing, it’s his, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I modified it to suit me,” I answered, “I don’t like killing. Purpose or not, it’s disgusting. There’s always something else that can be done.”

“Great. Then do something else,” Rhea said.

“You don’t get it. This is necessary.”

“It sounds more like you’re trying to convince yourself that. I couldn’t care less what you do, but do be consistent.”

Ugh. Good for nothing Rhea.

What a horrible day. I couldn’t avenge anyone and it seems like the one person who gets to come back to life is the one person who may as well exist just to spite me.

Outside, the decrepit building had a faded sign painted on which said ‘Ghost Inn’. Its outer walls and roof looked weathered, but it indeed look homey in a way which I couldn’t describe. We entered through the creaky wooden door and came face to face with the innkeeper with brown hair in a bun coupled with some light wrinkles and a warm smile.

“Hello, welcome to our humble inn,” she greeted us, with one hand raised in a ninety degree angle and giving off slow waves. “My name is Plutia. How may I help you ladies?”

“We’d like a room for us and our daughter,” Wendy stepped forward.

“What?! Your daughter?!” I shouted.

“Now, now, dear,” she waved away and smiled, “you’ve had a long day, haven’t you?”

I sulked. Of course. My life’s a fucking joke.

“I don’t think we have a room with three beds,” Plutia lamented.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Wendy offered.

“Two beds, then,” Rhea raised two fingers. “Not one.”

“Got it. We have a room vacant.”

“By the way, how come I can see through you?”

Plutia let out a soft laugh.

“It’s an effect my apron has. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. We here at the Ghost Inn strive for transparency.”

“No kidding.”

“Now, can I get a name for the room?” Plutia asked.

“Certainly. My name is Rachel Fleuve. My lovely wife is named Wednesday, and our daughter…”

“Nep,” I mumbled. It wasn’t my name, but I wasn’t going to let them control all of the narrative.

“Yes, our little Nep, short for Nephele. Don’t you see the resemblance?” Wendy asked.

“Oh yes. She looks just like you two.”

HOW?!

“Remind me again why I married you?” Rhea joined in.

“Oh, honey, please. Remember all the pains I had when I gave birth to Nep here? So much blood, so many fluids. It wasn’t pretty, I tell you what. The doctors wanted to put me on anesthesia but I took it like a champ.”

“That was a thing that happened, wasn’t it?”

“Excuse me,” I groaned, “I’m not that much younger than you two.”

“Families sure are wonderful, aren’t they?” Plutia smiled and handed Wendy the keys to our room.

That’s it? Not fazed at all?

The other two walked off, but I just glanced at the lady behind the counter. I couldn’t see through her at all. Was Rhea just messing with me? I wouldn’t put it past her.

“Come on, dear daughter,” Wendy ushered me forward.

I groaned and trudged along to our room. Room 108.

No, it really wasn’t anything special: two beds lined up, white linen sheets, blue blankets. A sliding glass door to the side which opened up to a patio area. On the other end of the room from the two beds was an old looking box TV on a table, coupled with some strange box next to it.

“Oh wow. They’ve got a VHS player. I haven’t seen one of those in ages!” Wendy exclaimed. “I wonder if it works.”

“No, it’s lazy,” Rhea responded.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled, “what’s a VHS player?”

Wendy stared at me, wide-eyed with a dead expression, but soon that gave way to a grin.

“Oh, you’re in for a treat! Hey Rhea, let’s go to the front desk and ask if she has any VHS tapes.”

“Fine, but I want a divorce,” Rhea said, and the two left the room.

So there I was, alone in a room I’d have to occupy with two others for a night. One of which sharing the face of my enemy, and perhaps twice as unpleasant. The other...I couldn’t tell if she was more like me or more like Sunny. I couldn’t get a good read on her. Whatever. That’s life for you.

I plopped down, face first, on the bed closer to the backdoor.

“Ugh…” I groaned into the pillow. Truth be told, I had the strangest urge to scream into it, punch it, tear it to pieces, and throw it across the room. But I did none of those things.

I didn’t have much time to myself, either. Those two came back just as soon as they left.

“Hey, look what we got: a movie,” Wendy announced, holding up a plastic case. “Rhea picked it because it had ‘Princess’ in the name and she thought the name sounded cute.”

“I am correct,” Rhea added.

The movie had some bland princess title, and it just showed a guy and a girl on it, with the guy holding a sword. In other words, generic. All the same, Wendy crouched down and shoved the tape into the VHS player.

Once it was inserted, Wendy and Rhea headed back toward the door.

“Miss Frosty over here and I are going out for a bit. Go ahead and enjoy your movie, kiddo,” she waved, then the two left the room.

“Tch. ‘Kiddo.’ Just what did I do to deserve this?”

I sat up on the bed and removed the (broken) armor with the click of a button on my wrist. Small bursts of static formed as it folded in on itself until it became nothing more than a thick metallic cube.

All I had on was some midriff shirt with a picture of a cat with a dog’s head and some ripped jeans. If I had known my armor would have been in such a bad state, I’d have picked something more dignified to wear. The cardigan Cybele got for me was all the way back at her house in Alaska, which I only visited once, and didn’t stay long.

Such an empty place, so large, yet the idea that she spent time there was comforting for me. Some form of familiarity. Maybe it was a similar thing with Rhea and Vesuvius. I couldn’t say, but if I could return there, if I could see her again…

But I knew that would have been wrong. I had taken advantage of her enough. We weren’t friends, just friendly with each other. Once she found out about what I tried to do to Remora, did she even want to associate with me anymore?

“As you wish,” said the pretty boy character that was obviously the girl’s love interest in the movie. I was too lost in thought to recall any of the scenes prior in the movie.

Did I say ‘As you wish’ to Cybele? I can’t even remember, but I feel like I might have, even in jest. Did that have some special meaning, or did I just say that to mess around? I don’t even know, myself.

Much of the movie I zoned out of or went over my head. It wasn’t until one particular character came on screen that I became entranced. Once he showed up, everything about the movie changed and held my attention.

“You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you,” he told the man in black. His swordplay was amazing, his accent I wish I had, his conviction was strong, and he was kind.

This is the person Demetria once compared me to? I finally get the reference and...how was this meant as an insult? This guy is cool!

Whenever he was on screen, he had my full attention. Whenever he wasn’t, I zoned out again and ignored the movie. It wasn’t so much that I found him attractive as much as his character was everything I should have been had I been a better person.

Then, a key phrase. Something else which I lacked. If I didn’t have a phrase to define myself with, could I really say that my convictions were strong? I didn’t know anymore, and all I knew was that this character had yet another thing I lacked.

The further along the movie went, the more I paid attention, and the more I cursed myself for having not earlier. Once it reached the heart-pounding climax, I heard commotion outside the room. Some light chatter, nothing too important. Of course, the door opened up and it was the two women I had the unfortunate circumstance of spending a night with.

I turned to them.

“My name is Inigo –” I began, and Rhea soon closed the door. Wendy opened it up and that was my cue.

“--Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to –”

“Okay, that’s enough. You should really get some shut eye,” Wendy chuckled.

“No! I need to watch it again! I wasn’t paying attention the first time!” I rocked back and forth as I begged.

“This movie will rot your brain,” Rhea groaned.

“My name is Inigo Montoya! You killed my father! Prepare to die!” I continued to rock.

“Riiiight...sleepytime now.”

Wendy pressed stop on the movie, then set it to rewind. I didn’t understand the process, all I knew was that I didn’t want it to be over.

“No! I don’t wanna!” I rocked back and forth. “Five more minutes! One more hour!”

Once she had taken the tape out and put it back into the case, I knew I had been defeated.

Another loss for me. Hmph!

I fell back and held the pillow over my face.

“My name is Blub bluh. You bluh bluh bluh. Prepare to bluh,” I whined into the pillow.

“We’re turning the lights off now, Bluh Bluh,” Rhea mocked. I lifted the pillow off my face and indeed, it was darkness. There was a glow outside from what I assumed to be the moon. As if on cue, Wendy, who sat on the floor next to the TV stand, commented.

“You might be thinking something like, ‘the moon is beautiful tonight’, but to me, it’s just a big ol’ rock. Still, on nights such as this, I suppose it is a pretty view, wouldn’t you say?”

“I guess,” I replied. “But I dare not look. I’ll just sleep now.”

Rhea said nothing. She exhaled heavy breaths which sounded less like soft moans and more like hard huffs one might take while outside in the middle of winter. I glanced over, and she laid on her back. Maybe they were more like snores to her, but it seemed to me like she fell asleep right away.

It really was a mystery how even someone with her reputation could look so peaceful once asleep. She shared the face of my enemy, yet she wasn’t the enemy. Her personality was atrocious, yet I had no quarrel with her. As unfair of her being allowed to exist was...it was still interesting to have met her.

But never mind that. I wouldn’t stay long. I don’t think I would have been able to stand it. To ensure my stay would be short, I did my best to get right to sleep.

Maybe that’s the one thing I can do right, I thought before nodding off.

Something woke me up just a couple hours later. Or maybe nothing. There wasn’t a sound that woke me up, nor did I recall any dreams that I woke from, only that my eyes shot open. There was still that faint glow of the moon, but it was muted somewhat from the curtains over the sliding glass door. Wendy must have drawn them, as from what I could tell, Rhea was still fast asleep.

“This is frustrating,” I muttered, not caring whether or not Wendy could hear me (I neither knew nor cared whether she was awake or not).

“Can’t sleep?” A voice called out, but it wasn’t Wendy’s. It was more of an airy, yet dry voice beside me. I turned to see Rhea facing me. I almost flinched, but didn’t.

“I guess. I’ve had a rough day, so it hasn’t made for optimal sleep conditions. What about you?”

“My condition makes it so that I wake up often due to the chill. The ghosts here probably aren’t helping matters.”

Seriously? You’re still on about that ghost shit?

“Sometimes I get woken up because I shiver in my sleep and my elbow bonks into something,” she continued, “sometimes I get a decent sleep but wake up wishing I had more layers over me. It all depends.”

“I see,” I faced away from her. I gave it some thought before I decided to get something off my chest. “You were right, by the way. I lack conviction. I don’t want to kill anyone, not even her. I just don’t know what else to do. I’m lost and no one else seems to have any answers.”

You know, something like that which I would have only said to a therapist or written down in a diary (were I to keep one) deserves a response, doesn’t it? Well, I got none. In fact, when I turned toward her, I noticed that she had already fallen back asleep.

What’s with you? Seriously?

Well, far be it for me to complain. I’ve never complained about anything in my life. Not even the fact that things tend not to go my way. So I just turned back to the other side and closed my eyes. I hoped it would bring me back to sleep, but instead, I felt the vibrations of my phone from my pocket.

Ugh. Who could it be at a time like this?

I pulled out my phone. Best case scenario? Maybe it was Cybele. Worst case? Uh...Tony?

I got up, slipped on my shoes, and headed out from the sliding glass door to answer the phone. It kept vibrating as I made my way out into the chilly night air.

“Who is this?” I asked, and probably sounded angry (well, angrier than usual). Blame the tiredness.

“Hey Nemesis,” came a cutesy and excitable voice. But not Cybele’s (hers wasn’t so overly cutesy anyway).

“Heidi? How did you get this number?”

“Daddy gave it to me. I asked him for it.”

“Damn it, Tony,” I cursed under my breath, then asked her: “You do know I was only working for him one day, right?”

“Yeah. But I wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” I tried to sound nicer, conscious of how I may have come across, before thinking, do you have any idea what time it is?

“Great. So. Do you think I’m sexy?”

I leaned over the wood railing of the balcony. With the chilly breeze blowing past me and my...lack of layers, it managed to wake me up just a little bit. Still, as relaxed as I was, there was nothing that could have prepared me for such a question.

“Where is this coming from? Did Prince say something mean to you?” I asked.

“He’s treating me well, and he said I am. I just wanted a second opinion.”

I rolled my eyes. Out of all the things to call someone about…

“Sure. Yeah. You’re sexy.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Why are you asking me? Why not one of Tony’s henchmen?”

“They’ll all tell me what I want to hear, but you’re honest.”

“Are you sure about that? I’m a habitual liar.”

“Yeah, but your honest self shows through. So, do you think I am?”

“...No,” I sighed. “I think you’re cute, but that’s about it. Now, would I think you were sexy if you did a sexy dance? Would I think you had a sexy side if we were together? Sure. But we’re not together, and even discounting the fact that you’re married, I have no interest in being with you.”

“If I wasn’t married, would you at least try and date me?”

“No. I don’t like love.”

“Why not?”

“Love is too easily lost.”

“I don’t think you have to get married to someone or have romantic feelings, but love is still important, whether it be family or friends.”

“...I already know that,” I replied, sounding weary. I was already tired, but this was something else.

“I hope you find love someday.”

“I don’t,” I covered my eyes, “but thanks.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired of losing.”

“You sound like you’re about to cry.”

“I wouldn’t dare. It’s not worth the tears.”

There was a brief pause. I noticed my free hand start to shake, but it wasn’t a shiver. No, maybe it was.

“Nemesis?” She asked.

“What?”

“Can we talk again sometime?”

“Sure. Just text first. I may not always be available.”

“Okie-dokie! Thanks for the chat!” Her chipper attitude returned from whatever somber atmosphere we both occupied for a moment.

“Yeah.”

She hung up. I looked at the call. Didn’t last more than a couple of minutes. Still, it was far too long.

I decided since I already had my phone out, I’d try to open disarray and message Cybele. As soon as the app opened up and I clicked on Cybele’s chat window, I tried to think of what to say. The last couple of messages were just funny images she found. I really should have at least gave a courtesy ‘lol’, but I guess I had too much else on the mind.

Right. If I’m going to be honest, I may as well be honest with someone I’ve actually had on my mind.

“Hey. I’m sorry for taking advantage of you,” I typed, but then slammed backspace key and started over.

“We had sex before we were even friends. I probably gave you the wrong impression. The whole...friends thing,” I hit the backspace key again until it was gone.

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” nope. That was no good. Who starts out a conversation like that? That’s such a thing to open up with, let alone say at all. Well, was a conversation even something I wanted?

“I really do like you. I think we could be friends if I tried,” I hit backspace on the second sentence, then replaced it with, “I’m just dealing with a lot of things. I need time.”

Backspace.

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to say so many things…” I almost hit send on that one. Maybe I should have. Instead, the message I sent was just this:

“Memes, huh?”

Of course, once I finally sent it, the message showed up in red, indicating that it didn’t go through. I checked my phone and saw that it didn’t have a signal.

“Of course,” I mouthed, then shoved my phone back into my pants pocket and buried my head in my arms, which rested on the edge of the railing. Then, I muttered, “of-fucking-course.”

That was when the tears came. Not just a little bit, either, and they were so forceful that I tried to squint and strain my eyes shut and they still escaped anyway. Such nasty, salty things. Soaking up my shirt sleeves, sliding down into my lips. Then, the snot. So gross, so disgusting.

My mind turned to static. There could have been any number of reasons as to why those nasty streams leaked from my eyes, but I couldn’t think at all. No bitter thoughts, nothing sweet. Everything was...everything.

Then, I heard the sliding glass door open.

I wiped away my face with my sleeve. It may have still been red, but I did a better job with drying than a desert would have a day after rain. As I turned around, I saw Rhea, standing in the doorway back inside.

She must have heard the whole thing. How long has she stood there? Did she not say anything just to mock me?

“What, ice queen? Are you surprised to find I have emotions?” I groaned with a drooping scowl of displeasure.

“No? Why do you think that everyone is against you?” She asked instead. If anything, that was worse than mocking. Worse than the silence.

“Why?” I growled before my next words snapped into a near-shout: “Because everyone IS against me! No one is on my side!” I stepped up to her and stared her down.

“Wendy said she supported you. She even offered to help you.”

“I never asked for help or support.”

“Well then what do you want? Do you want everyone to be against you or do you want someone to be there for you? You can’t push everyone away and then complain about no one being there for you.”

“Shut up. You know nothing,” I tried walking past her, but she stuck her arm out and blocked the door.

“I only know what you’ve told me. If you don’t want anyone, good. People are a pain in the ass, anyway. If you’re lonely, good. Say that you’re lonely. Even the most reclusive people get lonely sometimes. So far I’ve heard both from you. So which is it? What do you want?”

“Screw you,” I moved her arm away, then shoved my way past her. I grabbed the little cube that had once been my armor and stuck it in my free pocket, then walked toward the door. Before I was free, she called out once again.

“Hey. I couldn’t care less what you do. It’s none of my business. But do be consistent.”

Wow. Such sage advice. I just scowled at her, then walked out the door.

As I walked through the lobby, Plutia, who continued to stand at the front desk called out to me:

“We hope you enjoyed your stay. Feel free to come again!”

For a moment, I relaxed my scowl and turned to her.

“Thank you,” I told the innkeeper and stared. I tried to see what Rhea saw, but no matter how hard I studied her features, the innkeeper didn’t look any more transparent than I did.

Still, maybe others could see through me, too. Would it have been better if I was a ghost? I didn’t know. I could accomplish more if I simply haunted people into misery. Was misery really what I wanted? The idea that it could have been didn’t sit well with me, but why not?

Maybe I’ll never know what it is I want, I thought as I wandered down the empty streets of the ghost town. My destination was the highway just a little further down the road. Around me, I heard howls, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. But of course, there was a breeze that rolled through the entire area and when it entered through empty spaces in abandoned buildings, it gave off a whistling sound. Blame my short hair for the hairs on my neck standing up so easily. Not saying I would ever let it grow, though.

I thought I saw faces behind me, but I turned around just to see my reflection in shattered glass from broken windows. If anyone asked me if I believed in ghosts, I would probably say no. I probably haunt myself more than any ghost could.

There was something that itched in my mind, like seeing that shattered glass made me wonder what caused it to break. Like there was something missing and I had the piece to the puzzle, but...maybe I swallowed it? Or maybe I’d never find the answer.

Well, if I ever saw those two women again, it would be too soon. Once I stepped onto the empty highway, I abandoned the ghost town as well. Good riddance.

As to where I would go next? I had no direction. My armor was too broken to use it. I’d have to repair it before I even thought about using it for battle. If I ever used it again.

It was a little further down the highway that I wandered that a black van approached up ahead. With my luck, it could have been someone with nasty intentions, but...I stuck my thumb out anyway. Once the van was right next to me, it slammed on the breaks in a screeching and obnoxious fashion and the driver’s side door burst open. I was met with some scrawny looking man with messy blonde hair and a white T-shirt with holes in it. When he opened his mouth, I noticed braces.

“Do you think I pick up hitchhikers?” He asked, short of breath.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“Oh. Well, I don’t. Well, I try not to make a habit of it. I was just having a late night drive, I really don’t want any trouble. Are you going to rob me?”

I shrugged again.

“Okay. Well that noncommittal answer scares me, but I’ll just take it as a no. Do you need money? Need me to call a cab?”

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” I spoke up.

“Oh. Um. Sorry. I would offer to let you stay at my place, but my daughters might be scared of a stranger showing up.”

“You have kids?” I asked.

“Crap. Should I not have said that?”

“I don’t mind,” I shrugged again.

“Oh. Well, yeah. Their mom thought I loved my anime figurines more than her, so left us. I’d say it’s been hard, but this green haired shorty gave me lots of cash and I’ve tried to stay out of trouble since then. Crap. Should I not have said that either? Are you going to try to rob me now?”

“I don’t need money.”

He let out a sigh that sounded more like a belch, then rubbed his forehead.

“All right. Hop in.”

I walked around and got into the passenger seat. I guess this was happening. Why not?

The seat had comfy leather cushions, albeit with some holes in them which revealed the yellow foam underneath. Behind me, I noticed several computer towers.

“What are all those for?” I asked.

“Oh. You might think it’s for mining cryptocurrency, but actually I’m just scrapping them for parts. I found all these in a junkyard.”

“Huh.”

I strapped on the seat belt and closed the door behind me.

“Name’s Wheaty, by the way. You?”

“Nem,” I told him. There was no need to give him my full name.

“Cool. Do you like chiptunes? I could turn on the radio.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“All right. What about eurobeat?”

“Not that either.”

“Got a preference for music?”

“No.”

“Cool. I’ll play reggaeton.”

Whatever he played, I ‘tuned’ it out. As we rolled down the highway, he asked:

“So, what’s your story?”

“It’s less of a story and more of a joke without a punchline.”

“Ah. So you’re one of those edgy types.”

I didn’t know what that meant. He probably wouldn’t have told me if I were to ask. That’s just how it seemed to go with me. I just leaned my head against the car window and watched as rain began to fall outside. Part of me hoped that those two strange killers were staying dry inside. Wouldn’t want them to catch a cold. No pun intended.

#remoras full #stories #writing #fiction #drama #action #scifi #rhea flection #nemesis #ghost town #spooky #loss

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sugxrslushy · 2 years

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➪ a/n: idea kinda came out of nowhere? I can't paint my nails for shit so I always ask someone else to help me and I thought this was a cute idea. it was one of the prompts on my last event that I never got to finish so might as well knock out some characters right here with the prompt

➪ details: SFW//Kid, Perona, & Sanji x gn!reader//w.c: 1k

Eustass Kid

Kid’s own nails always seemed to be done perfectly, staying untouched and perfect even through his wreckless nature while you could barely paint a nail without turning your whole finger the same color (much less keep them from getting scraped and flaking the paint off)

You’d brought it up casually, treading lightly as you asked what nail polish he used. He grumbled out an answer, not very interested till you brought up him possibly helping you with your own conundrum. Upon his interest being drawn in you showed your own (very bad) attempt at painting your nails

“Yeah you did a shit job at painting your nails.” Almost as if that’s why I’m asking for help

He’s surprisingly easy to motivate into painting your nails, with the promise of alcohol later he pulls you aside with a bottle of nail polish to begin. He’s got two colors to pick from (red or black) so pick your poison

Kid is surprisingly efficient at it, much more than you expected as he paints your first two nails with little to no effort. He smears the paint a bit, nowhere near perfect, but better than what you would end up with. He holds your hand splayed atop his own and you can’t help but notice how much smaller yours is in comparison to his

“Yours get all scuffed because you don’t use that gel shit on top.” He swipes the last little smudge from the corner of your finger with his own, gently holding your hand closer to his face and blowing on the still wet polish to dry it, making you laugh from the ticklish feeling. You swear his cheeks turn red at the sound

Whenever Kid needs to repolish his he’ll ask if you do too, letting you spend time with him as you both fix your nails to your liking. Even when you get a hang of how to paint your own Kid turns a blind eye because “it’s easier than watching you struggle”

He might buy a few more colors, insisting they’re just for you but you’ve seen that pretty purple he bought for you gleaming on his own nails

Perona

Perona had gone through all five stages of grief all at once when she first laid eyes on your poor attempt at painting your nails. She acted like it was the worst thing ever, leaving you smiling sheepishly as she insisted on fixing them for you so she wouldn’t have to look at them

Look, she didn’t mean to come off as rude, she was thrilled at the chance to hold your hand as she paints your nails but she doesn’t have the slightest idea of how to flirt properly

Perona has too many colors to choose from, almost intimidating when she drags you off to her room and dumps out her whole stash of polishes. Once she’d learned about Mihawk’s soft spot for her she took full advantage of it, and the evidence was laid out in front of you in plenty of shiny bottles of even shinier colors

To the ghost princess there’s no such thing as half assing things, especially when it comes to beauty. She’ll go the full ten yards and give you a complete manicure, but it tends to feel like she’d finding whatever excuse to hold your hand more as she holds yours tight to file your nails

From the start she’s made up her mind on what color she should paint your nails, and she’s hard to sway from her previous choice. Although she’s never been wrong, it always compliments you beautifully and she’ll let you pick out a design as a trade

“Stop moving.” The princess mumbles, a hollow hanging dangerously close as she paints on a detail with careful precision. Her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth and eyebrows are creased in complete concentration as she works, blooming into the biggest smile as she excitedly announces she’s done

She’s just as ecstatic as you are once it’s finished, proud of her own work and even more proud that you’re so excited to show everyone. She swears her heart speeds up whenever you happily tell someone that Perona was the one who did such an amazing job with your nails

Sanji

Sanji brought it up first, you had been helping him in the kitchen when he offhandedly mentioned you should be careful baking when your nail polish was chipping off so easily. You hadn't even noticed it and immediately was upset, all your hard work down the drain so fast

He offered to help as long as you were more careful about it chipping. You hadn’t expected Sanji to be the one who knew how to paint nails, but he’d learned a fair share of things other than just cooking and fighting on Kamabakka but he’d never admit that

You pick out a bottle from your collection, handing it off to Sanji who was standing idly behind you. “Pretty, you have a good eye.” He says with a smile, cupping your hand in his and running the pad of his thumb over your nails, the rest of your old nail polish had been removed

Despite nail polish and the remover being flammable, Sanji still sits with a cigarette in his mouth, chewing on the end of it while he works in concentration. He makes some playful remarks here and there during it, lightening the air and slipping in some advice about how to more efficiently paint your nails

He does everything to your liking, asking and altering as he continues on. He’s incredibly precise, his hand never shaking or faltering when he paints on a perfect line of the polish. It’s a wonder to you how he works so well, but it’s easy to explain it with his experience in the kitchen

“So tell me,” he begins and brushes away the faint speck of paint along the very edge of your nail, frowning slightly at the stain now on his own hand then brushing it off. “What about this color is you favorite, other than the fact it looks cute on you” He says with a grin, storing away the bits of info you give him for future reference

Once finished, he kisses the backs of both your hands before heading off to continue whatever work he has to do for the day. He especially loves how cute you both look with your fingers interlaced, maybe you can even convince him into letting you paint his nails a complementary color

tag list: @cjm-cookiethief @sanjithesimp @acesmarigold @smallhybridart @kirakirakill @doublebird @chososrightpigtails @eustasssimp @foodismylife @portgaes @thegrandlinesimp @lawscorazon @nil-vinsmoke @rosiinante

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece fic #eustass captain kid #eustass kid #kid x reader #kid x y/n #kid x you #ghost princess perona #perona x reader #perona x you #fluff #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you

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hoezhatelola · 3 years

Text

His Girl

Baji Keisuke x Reader

warnings: dom!baji, sub!fem!reader, toman AU, degradation kink, size kink, gun kink, NSFW 18+, fingering, cunnilingus, idfk what else to put here

a/n: this was kind of rushed but i was suddenly motivated to write a baji smut so here you go all you horny readers :)

sorry if this sucks, terrible case of writers block lately. btw everyone’s aged up !

__________________________________________

everyone who knew baji knew that he was a man who kept his priorities straight. those priorities consisted of toman, his few friends, business, and ever since two years ago- you. despite what everyone assumed, you were okay with not being his first priority. it was normal for you to stay up til the latest hours of the night, awaiting his arrival. it was normal for you to wake up with a cold, empty spot beside you on the mattress.

you never bothered him about what it exactly was that he did inside of toman, or what his so called “business” really was. you knew he was a bit shady, but at the end of the day, when he’s pulling you closer into his chest at 4 a.m., breathing in your scent and peppering kisses onto your forehead, it didn’t matter.

everyone from moebius to valhalla knew that you were his girl. of course, there had been a few instances in the past where baji had to get his hands dirty and correct a few guys for looking at you in the way that only he can look at you.

despite what had become the norm, tonight was different. you were cozy on the couch in the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, a blanket wrapped around your form that was covered with only one of baji’s t-shirts and your lace undies. you sipped on your hot chocolate, slightly jumping as a weak knock sounded on the door.

you got up and went on your tippy toes to peek through the tiny hole, and as you expected you saw baji, his scratched up face and tired eyes looking downwards. your delicate fingers took care of all of the extra locks baji had installed, and you opened the door swiftly.

“finally! i was waiting for yo-” you froze as you looked up at him, his usually narrowed eyes now slightly wider and teary. “baby? what’s the matter?” you took your hand, much smaller than his own, and grabbed his arm to pull him inside before closing and locking the door behind him.

“s too much.. can’t do it ‘nymore…” he muttered, his head now collapsing onto your shoulder. you ran a hand through his black locks as he stood up straight, peering down at you with that same, sad and guilty look. you planted a kiss on his jaw and cupped his cheek. “what’s too much, my love?”

he only looked into your eyes, not speaking as his brows furrowed and a tear silently fell, staining his cheek. he brought his face closer and your lips connected, his tongue rapidly entering your mouth and exploring it with dominance.

“mmh… w-wait, aauh..” you mumbled into his mouth, trying to speak to him. with prior consent, both you and baji had agreed on a safe word and so, naturally, protests such as ‘wait’ or ‘stop’ or ‘slow down,’ meant absolutely nothing to him.

he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands resting under your thighs and slamming you down onto the bed that you shared. you looked up at him with lust-filled eyes, and his expression darkened as he bent down and tore apart your thighs.

“look at you…” he chuckled against your skin, nibbling on your inner thigh and running a finger along your clothed slit. “such a fucking mess for me already.” you could tell he was getting a kick out of you feeling embarrassed, and it was his sick way of making you feel good.

he looked up at you once more and you nodded before he tore apart your panties, hungrily eyeing your glistening womanhood that ached for his touch. the first warm lick against your sensitive bud caused you to shiver, and after enjoying your reaction he utterly devoured your pussy. two of his skilled fingers entered your hole without warning, causing you to gasp and arch your back in ecstasy.

the pink muscle continued to suck and flick at your clit, your core immediately tightening, the coil nearly snapping. “s so good… gon’ cum s-s-soon.” you purred, and he gripped your thighs even harder than before, lapping at your folds and chuckling into your pussy, the vibrations causing you to snap.

the coil became fully undone, your orgasm hitting you like a fucking bus, your legs shaking and a loud moan invading your room. “that’s my fucking girl. such a good little cumslut, yeah?” you mindlessly nodded in response, lost in bliss. you snapped back to reality when a small click could be heard, and a cold metal was pressed between your thighs.

in his slender hand you saw his gun, and you jumped up, pulling away. “relax, it’s not loaded... just looks so good next to that pretty pussy.” he rubbed the edge of it up and down your slit, and as you came down from your orgasm you sure as hell were ready for more. you needed more.

“i want you…” you said, making grabby hands in the direction of his dick. the gun slid into your mouth as you whimpered in response. “suck.” he ordered, and you knew better than to disobey him.

“you want what? my big cock in that tight cunt?” he grunted in your ear and you nodded, gagging over and over again on his gun as he continued to push it down your throat. you looked up at him beneath your lashes, your cheeks hollowing as strings of saliva ran down his hand. “fuck… don’t look at me like that.”

he unclasped his belt and looked down at you. despite his rough tone and usual severe degradation towards you, his eyes were asking for consent, to which you nodded. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly slid in, inch by fucking inch. once you were stuffed full of his eight inches, he huffed and leaned in to your ear, thrusting once without warning.

you mewled loudly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he chuckled, basking in the feeling off your velvety walls pulsating around him. “you’re a bigger whore than i thought… already screaming for me and i’ve barely,” he trusted once more as you moaned, “fucking,” and again he thrusted even harder, “started.”

“kei… s-slow down.” you gasped, clawing at his chest and leaving crescent shaped marks along his shoulders. “what?” he chuckled, “you want me to slow down?” he imitated you by slightly raising his voice before grabbing your neck and pulling you upwards, his lips now touching the shell of your ear. “can’t take my fat cock in that tiny little pussy, hah..”

baji paid special attention to the way your cunt sucked in his girth, groaning at the sight of your throbbing clit begging to be touched by him. he knew your body so well at this point that your walls had molded to shape him, that his eyes flickered to that one spot of your lower stomach, now staring at the bulge that gently bobbed up and down beneath your skin. hell, your pussy was made to take his cock so fucking well.

“f-fuck.. gah.. k-kei, im-” “close? already?” he cut you off. you nodded hastily in response, feeling that familiar warm sensation in your stomach that only he could make you feel. he pressed his hand down on your lower stomach, his dick twitching at the feeling of him inside of you. “fucking pathetic… you can barely last with me fucking your brains out, hm? you’re my dirty fucking slut, aren’t ya?”

you looked up and looked eyes with him, your expression begging to gush all over his length. “y-yes.. ‘m your sl-slut.” you choked on your own words, feeling the air knock out of your lungs as his tip brushed against your cervix and provided a pleasurable sting. baji felt your walls clench around him at his words.

“you dirty little whore… you like being degraded this much, hah?” you didn’t reply as drool seeped down your chin and tears of immeasurable pleasure pricked the corners of your eyes. “i’m fucking talking to you,” he said rather angrily, gripping your throat.

“s-sorry, ‘m gunna cum!” you said loudly, moaning into his sloppy kiss and looking into his eyes as he pulled away and squeezed your throat, cutting off your oxygen almost completely. “yeah? you’re gonna cum soon? gonna cum all over my big cock, right?” he replied with a question, and your vision began to blur.

the biggest orgasm of your life was now pooling in your stomach, and baji knew it too. a smug smirk crept its way onto his face as he cupped your breast and squeezed it gently with his free hand, the other one still lying on your throat. “y-yes… gon’ cum all o-over yer’ f-fat… agh.. cock.”

relaying back to baji that his cock was, in fact, huge was all it took for him to nibble at your shoulder and bring a thumb to your clit before rubbing sloppy circles over it. the coil then snapped, and your orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. you thrashed around underneath him, a pleasurable cry filling the room as your legs shook and he gripped your thighs, watching as your cunt tightened and gushed around him.

“that’s my girl… creaming around me. open wide.” he instructed, and you shivered at the nickname before parting your lips and opening your mouth. he pumped his length dry of all his salty cum that was now dripping down your chin, breasts, lips, and was on your tongue. “swallow.”

you then collapsed after doing as he said as he got up, collecting a warm wash cloth and a glass of water for you. he gently wiped you clean, planting small kisses across your body, all the way from your calves to your forehead. you had to admit, baji’s aftercare was good as hell. he then used a soothing lotion to rub circles on your back, legs, and neck, before handing you the glass of water and collapsing next to you.

your legs tangled together within the soft sheets and warm blankets, and your head was now on his chest as he tangled his fingers in your hair, running them through your locks. you looked up at him and planted two kisses on his jaw as he looked down at you in awe.

“you were so good for me.” he said, and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you in even closer. the feeling of your warm, naked bodies resting against each other was enough to warm his entire heart, and the smile that you gave him as he kissed your forehead was enough to make his heart flutter.

“did you wanna tell me what happened tonight? you know… why you came back all scratched up and sad?” you asked, and he hesitated to reply before grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him. his back now rested against the headboard, and he pulled you closer so that your foreheads were now touching.

“i wish…” he hesitated again, and you cupped his cheek in attempt to reassure him everything would be ok. “i wish we could spend more time together, so we could cuddle and go out that’s all.” your heart picked up the pace as your eyes widened and a smile spread across your lips.

“aah… you’re so adorable, kei.” you ruffled his hair and planted a kiss on his lips, his hands still gripping your bare hips. “i wish we could too… but i understand you’re busy.” his stomach dropped at your words, did you really think you weren’t more important to him than his ‘job?’

he took a hand and gently ran it up the side of your body, all the way to your cheek, staring into your eyes as if he was deep in thought. “you know you’re the most important thing to me, right?” you nodded in response, his heart aching at the realization that there was nothing he could do to improve the amount of time he actually got to see you.

“let’s just make the most out of the time we do have together.”

#tokyo revengers #anime #smut #tokyo revengers baji #baji keisuke #tokyo revengers smut #baji x reader #baji #baji smut #im too #lazy #to put more tags #enjoy #i hope yall like it

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piecksz · 3 years

Text

pet. | (m)

pairings: yelena x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, non con, oral sex (female recieving), fingering, intoxication, gun play, violence, slight degredation, explicit language

words: 2.3k+

summary: hange sends you to investigate her suspicions about yelena’s loyalty to the military, but unfortunately for you, she’s already ten steps ahead.

You should have known better.

Maybe if you’d been more wary she wouldn’t have had the advantage, but you weren’t. Instead you’d been unsuspecting, accepting her blithe invitation to talk about military proceedings over a drink when it hadn’t been your original plan because Hange’s directives were simple. Suspicions had been propagating amongst the higher-ups that the anti-Marleyan volunteers were planning an underhanded coup, and at the forefront of the insurrection was their ringleader, Yelena.

Your orders were to meet with her and solicit information that could have given Hange and the rest of the authorities a lead, so you thought nothing unsavory of Yelena suggesting you two meet at a bar. She offered to cover the tab, and you figured it would be easier to seek out details if she had some alcohol in her system, but Yelena was observant, much more than you had been. She knew the basis for the occasion, and so she coaxed you into one glass after another until you’d grown so tipsy that you didn’t realize she never took one sip.

Afterwards, it didn’t take much effort to convince you to come back with her to her place, accommodation she’d been provided as a guest on Paradis. The minute she lured you inside with the promise to take care of you until you were sober, she seized your arm and forced it behind your back into a nearly impossible position. With the weight of her body, she drove you into the wall, effectively cornering you with the threatening barrel of her gun pressed into the underside of your jaw.

She lowered her mouth to your ear. “The military doesn’t trust me, do they?”

You only grunted in pain, pointlessly writhing in Yelena’s hold.

“And here I was thinking we were just starting to become friends.” She sighed. “They’re smart not to.”

You said nothing, already realizing it was futile to try and prove that you had no ulterior motives for meeting with her, she already knew everything you presumed she didn’t.

“At least I weeded out their pet.” She prodded the hollow cavity where your jawbone met your neck with the cold metal. “What do you say to becoming mine instead?” She thumbed over the gun’s cylinder, clicking the plate into place before teasing the trigger.

You sent her a malicious glower over your shoulder, eyes blazing with animosity. “Go fuck yourself.”

Yelena’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at your rancorous choice of words, but her expression quickly melted into a duplicitous grin. “Is that a yes?” She nudged her gun against the side of your throat, an understated reminder that she still had the option to censor you with a single bullet.

You stuck your chin out in resistance yet remained silent. Compliance was your only alternative, but nothing made you sicker than the thought of submission.

“Good girl,” Yelena chuckled. She released your arm and stepped back, continuing to stand with the firearm pointed in your direction. “Shirt and pants. Off.”

Her command was curt, and it had you carefully turning to face her. “Yelena—”

“Pets don’t talk.” She flicked her gun to the side, emphasizing her instruction. “I need to make sure you’re not concealing any weapons.”

You hesitated, but quivering fingers traveled to the buttons of your shirt, undoing each of them one by one. Your movements were slow while you tried to stall as much as possible. If you failed to report back to Hange in time, they would conclude that something in your job had gone awry, then they’d come looking for you.

“Faster.” Yelena’s eyes narrowed. She must have sensed your deliberate pace.

Calculating bitch.

You shrugged your shirt off, tossing it on the floor beside you before working yourself out of your pants and discarding them in the same heap.

“Happy?” You held your arms up, turning around once over so Yelena could see that you didn’t possess any visible weapons.

She flicked her wrist down to your feet. “Shoes too.”

Your irritated look slackened at her awareness, still, you slowly bent down, reaching your fingers into your boot until they closed around the smooth wooden handle of a switchblade. You pulled the weapon out, briefly considering the odds of successfully landing damage if you lunged at her from where you were. You decided against it, knowing that it would take less time for her to activate the trigger than it would for you to attack.

Yelena held her hand out, and you reluctantly pressed the blade into her palm. “It would be a shame if I cut you up with your own knife, wouldn’t it?” She snapped it open, studying its whetted edge with eagerness.

Your eyes widened at the mention of her threat, and you backed further up against the wall, arms wrapped about your body in a miserable attempt to offer yourself some decency.

“Don’t look so scared. I won’t.” She retracted the blade and slid it into her pocket. “I have other plans for you. You’re gonna tell me everything I want to know.”

“Or else?” you combated.

Yelena grinned with amusement. “Or else? Dauntless are we? I admire that.” She took a long stride, closing in on you with her imposing height. “You’re gonna tell me everything I want to know if you don’t want your brains on my wall.” She tapped her gun against your cheek.

“You’re not gonna kill me.”

Yelena raised her eyebrows at the way you underestimated her vice.

“Commander Hange and Captain Levi wouldn’t let you see the light of day.” You chuckled. “And after they’ve been such kind hosts to you, is that any way to repay them?”

She pretended to muse over your reasoning, and then she shrugged. “Should I get my information another way then?”

You tilted your head to the side, now at a loss for words. You drew your brows together and shook your head, unable to discern what she was hinting at.

“It was easy getting you this far.” Yelena’s rich voice was strangely comforting as she spoke into your ear, the melodic rhythm of her voice lulling you into relaxation. “Your heroism is cute Y/N, but you’re not as smart as you think you are.” She coiled a strand of your hair around her lithe fingers before her hands traveled down to your chest.

“You think all your decisions are yours, but they’re not.” Her touch trailed along your breastbone, ghosting over the skin of your stomach until she met the thin fabric of your underwear.

Your mouth ran dry at the feeling of Yelena’s fingers while they lingered along your waistband. You tried to protest, but your words were stilted.

“Nothing is. Not even those thoughts in your head, someone put them there.” she whispered, dipping her hand into your underwear while pushing her gun’s end into your temple. She delighted in your afflicted expression, eyes welling with hot tears but still soundless. She skimmed over your clit lightly, watching how your body twitched in response, and she hummed at your quiet feedback before circling the sensitive swell of your cunt with her middle finger.

Fearful of grabbing Yelena’s hand to cease her movement, you cupped your unsteady hands over your mouth instead, trying to smother your panicked sobs.

Her fingers slid down to your pussy’s orifice, forcing just the tip of her finger in and growing amused at how your hole tightened desperately with every small ministration. “You’re merely a puppet on a string—easily controlled.” The mention of her last word had her pushing two fingers up into your entrance, eliciting a strident cry from you.

Yelena moved quickly, long and lean digits thrusting in and out of your hole while your body quivered under her commanding strokes. She worked you in steady pulls, curling her middle and ring finger up against the sensitive center of your core. Her movements were effortless and adroit, playing you like an instrument while listening to your airy whimpers of indulgence—the music.

“Not even a minute ago you hated me, but your lack of resistance says otherwise.” She sunk her fingers again until she was knuckle-deep.

Your feeble pleas for Yelena to stop suggested something entirely different from the way your wet and needy walls tightened around her touch while your vocalizations grew louder. You undulated your hips in tight, urgent circles, shameless in your pleasure until you felt your orgasm tickle the bottom of your spine. A sweaty hand slid over the lapels of Yelena’s blazer, gripping the fabric while you fought to keep yourself upright.

“Take my advice.” She brought her face closer to yours, lips hardly brushing over the streaks of tears that painted your cheeks. “Being so naive will only get you killed.”

She slipped her hand out of your underwear, her fingers covered in a gossamer layer of your arousal, and the sudden absence just as you had reached the cusp of your orgasm caused your pelvis to jolt. Through glossy eyes, you looked at her own, your hold on her jacket tightening. “Please—”

Your fingertips slid down to your clothed folds, gingerly skimming over the fabric to imply what you wanted. With a sober mind, you wouldn’t have dared admit that you were surrendering to the enemy, but the residual effects of the alcohol in your system blurred all your coherent thoughts, and all you could focus on was your desperation for a climax.

“Yelena, please—”

Yelena’s hand closed around your wrist, and she forcibly pulled you off of her. “Don’t beg. Have some self-respect.”

She withdrew her gun from your forehead, ungodly eyes never leaving yours. Her pinched expression relaxed back into her classic inscrutable appearance, and she slowly lowered herself onto her knees in front of you until the top of her blonde head just barely peeked over your midriff.

The sight of seeing her shorter than you for once would have been comical if it weren’t for the aching between your thighs that took priority.

Yelena wrapped an arm around the back of your knee, and hoisted your leg over her shoulder. The hand that clutched her gun pushed it into the curve of your hip bone, spawning a small whimper of discomfort from your throat.

She glanced up at you before leaning in and lolling her tongue out, delivering a long wet lick up from your entrance to your clit.

“Oh my god—” Your words were breathless and waned into a decadent purr as Yelena continued to circle the sensitive bud with the authoritative head of her pink tongue.

With a final and potent flick, she lapped your clit into her mouth, methodically oscillating between sucking and kissing your glistening cunt until she discovered the best combination to draw out the loudest moans. The fingers she dug into your thigh migrated to your backside and pressed into the skin of your ass instead. Yelena nudged you closer to her until her nose gently grazed the skin of your pelvis every time she shifted against your center.

You whimpered her name again while your restless hands slid over your chest, tugging at the sheer material of your bra and weighing your own breasts in your palms. “I’m—”

Yelena trailed down to your hole, teasing and prodding while she dragged her touch from behind. She rested her fingers against your clit, massaging it alongside her tongue’s performance to excite you into greater stimulation.

“Yelena—” You swallowed thickly. “I’m—close—”

Half-delirious with lust, the other half—inebriation, your hand settled behind her head and you rolled your lower body against her mouth, allowing the dual sensation of her fingers and tongue to send you over the edge. Your climax surfaced in two waves, first presenting itself as a tiny shiver that painted your skin in goosebumps, but the second had you crying out fervidly while your body descended into uncontrollable spasms.

“Yelena—fuck—”

Yelena continued to urge her tongue deeper, penetrating the depths of your cunt and relishing in the way your walls tightened around her slippery muscle before she withdrew from between your thighs.

The strength of your orgasm had your knees buckling, sending your back sliding down the wall until you collapsed on the floor. Your fingers scratched pathetically against the wood surface while you quivered from the aftershock of your climax, and your heavy breathing didn’t relent. You stirred briefly, drifting in and out of clarity until your eyes flitted open to see Yelena rising to her feet in a squatted position.

She observed you thoughtfully, her warped smile matching, yet at the same time contrasting, her seemingly kind eyes. It appeared she had discarded her previous plan to pry information out of you, and debriefing you wouldn’t have been worth the effort seeing as how you could hardly form an intelligible sentence.

Yelena reached out to grab your chin, forcing your lips to part wider with her thumb, just enough for her to slide the barrel of her gun into your mouth.

The metal was leaden against your tongue and it’s sharp flavor was unpleasant, making you tug your head in the opposite direction, but Yelena’s grip was unyielding. You looked onward at her as a new surge of tears flooded your waterline, and your helpless cries were muzzled by her weapon.

She rested the end of the barrel against the roof of your mouth before clicking the hammer and rotating another bullet into place.

You strung your eyes shut, waiting for the deafening sound of gunfire, quick pain, and then terrifying silence, but when nothing came, you carefully opened your eyes, wondering if you were already dead.

Rather, you were still met with Yelena’s squinting eyes, and she hummed before pulling her gun, now daubed with your saliva, from your lips. Her eyes drifted to the floor, and she stretched a hand out to grab your bundle of clothes from your side. She held them to your chest, and you hesitantly accepted them, hugging the articles to your stark frame, then Yelena rose to her feet, peering down at you with self-approving satisfaction.

“Give the military my best.”

#yelena smut #yelena x reader #yelena x reader smut #attack on titan smut #aot smut #attack on titan x reader smut #aot x reader smut

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kinda-iconic · 2 years

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Untitled D&D WIP

Just a little drabble (400+ words) of the next fic in my D&D series; hope to write more tomorrow, but it currently 11:40 and my brain needs a bit of a break.

Tagging: @bloodboundismylife @princess-geek - if anyone else would like to be tagged in future instalments, please do not hesitate to let me know!

NOTE: This is a longer extract then I'd normally post, as I thought that it would be nice to post a little more this time - I rarely ever get the time/motivation to write anymore :( Hope you enjoy!

TW: Mentions of drinking

Luke meanders over to the fireplace, holding a dainty glass of bourbon in his outstretched palm. He tilts his head towards the spirit, his expression unreadable.

‘I know it is not much,’ he admits, carefully pondering the appropriateness of his following admission, ‘but I thought that it would be best not to supply you with too much whiskey should the Doctor need to discuss anything with you.’

Ernest takes the glass from him, bowing his head in quiet appreciation.

‘Is that something that you have decided upon yourself, or did the others influence that decision?’

When he is met with no immediate reply, he shakes his head, a despondent sigh escaping his lips.

‘The amount I drink is no concern of yours, nor should it have ever been a talking point for your gossip.’

‘Forgive me, Sir,’ Luke appears hesitant, aware as to the severity of Ernest’s emotional state, ‘but we had no choice but to discuss it.’

‘My,’ Ernest retorts, his response almost sarcastic, ‘has the rumour mill already run dry?’

He downs the contents of his glass without pause, heading over to the decanter; his brows furrow in concentration as he fixes himself another drink. He takes a swig, only turning to face Luke once his second glass is almost fully depleted.

‘I am sorry that you have drawn the short straw tonight, Mr Harper,’ his tone is hollow, his words laden with defeat, ‘I am not exactly what one would call ‘pleasant’ company right now.’

Luke frowns, ‘that is not true in the slightest.’

‘You were previously close to referring to me as a drunkard.’

‘We are worried about you,’ Luke takes another step towards to his counterpart, yet choosing to remain at a respectable distance, ‘if ever you would like anyone to step in and look after Mary or sit at Amelia’s bedside-‘

‘I have no desire for either,’ he stops himself short, giving in to his frustration, ‘I will take care of my family. They are my responsibility,’ Ernest takes one last sip of his drink, the glass shaking slightly in his grasp as he forcefully slams it onto the table, ‘I’ll be damned if anyone else shoulders that.’

‘You need rest, Ernest,’ Luke approaches cautiously, placing a comforting hand on Ernest’s arm, ‘you have not slept since Amelia delivered, neither have you been eating properly.’ He replaces the lid on the decanter, holding it by its neck before moving it elsewhere, ‘I can go and ask Briar or one of the kitchen maids if they could prepare-‘

‘I will eat when my wife is well and not a moment before.’

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices d&d #desire and decorum #ernest sinclaire #ernest x mc #luke harper #sneak peek

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chocosvt · 3 years

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⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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