#this Dramatic Reveal never ceases to be great

[4izawas]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. // “If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you.”

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: my hero academia | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shouta aizawa/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 9.30k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: age gap, previously established relationship, jealousy, canon typical harrassment, heavy miss joke bashing, death threats, fem reader, villain reader, possessive reader, reader is just a bad person chat idk what else u want me to say, discussions of trauma ( but aizawa refuses to call it that ), morally ambiguous aizawa, ngl he’s also not a great person but he’s hot so it’s okay, villain/hero, femdom, maledom, teasing, biting, nipple sucking, oral sex, slight choking, switch reader, switch aizawa, dacryphilia, fingering, pussy slapping, tit slapping, spitting, creampies, daddy kink, marking, hickeys, also a cat, tko = tofu knockout, class 1-a are little shits.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: kinktober fourrrr !! hnngggg aizawa is always a must <33 and ngl? fucking hate miss joke so we gon bash <3

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

“C’mon, Eraser, just one date! Just one!”

“No means no, Joke — we’re in the middle of a fucking job, so leave me alone and do your part,” Shouta mutters just loud enough flr her to hear with nothing short of sheer annoyance in his voice as he overlooks the streets and back alleys surrounding a building in east Fukuoka just past midnight that night. The Smile Hero, Miss Joke, stood at his right shoulder; due to a necessary team up at the request of the Commission upon Hawks’ request for backup to assist in breaking up a newly discovered human trafficking ring, the duo were paired up and sent to the rooftops for out-of-sight assistance, where Eraserhead could use his quirk without the risk of interruption as the team below entered the building. 

Well. Almost without that risk. 

“Oh, don’t be that way, Eraser, at this point us meeting up all the time’s gotta be fate!” she laughs quietly, grinning brightly at him. He grumbles a little to himself, but doesn’t turn away from where he was glancing around below for any threats that could potentially fall upon the strike team moving through the halls of the building, their locations revealed by the large windows.

More of Joke’s chatter drones on in his ears, and Shouta fights off the annoyed growl that threatened to escape him; why couldn’t it have been Hizashi he was paired with so he’d have backup? At least Hizashi knew how to be quiet and professional, what with his hero persona just being a face for the public — and it wasn’t as if Miss Joke didn’t know how to do her job, she actually did it very well, she just ceased to properly function whenever he was a part of the picture for some reason. Hizashi and Nemuri had both thought it was funny at first, but that was years ago, before it had become an actual problem. 

Shouta tenses up when an overly-familiar hand squeezes his shoulder, and he grits his teeth. “Stop touching me,” he snaps lowly. “For God’s sake, Joke, be fucking professional.”

Miss Joke sighs. “I never see you outside of the rare team up for work, Eraser, what do you expect?”

“I expect you to keep your hands to yourself and for you to do your job,” he says coldly, shaking off her hand. She sighs again, this time in a more dramatic way. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen up here!” She mutters, “We’ve been up here for an hour. They aren’t going to patrol this area, and if they weren’t we should have moved.”

“This is the best vantage point for me to see as much of the building as possible,” he replies, silently relieved that she’s actually discussing the job and not some aspect of his body. 

A groan follows his words, and then a startled curse. He turns in time to catch sight of her grappling with a much larger man with a fly mutation quirk, something he couldn’t cancel. Spitting out a curse of his own under his breath, he leaps into the fray to help as three more men starm the roof. “Neither of you should be up here!” One snarls. “This is private property — you’re trespassing.”

“Shut up,” is all Shouta says, and the fight starts. He leaves Joke to the man with the fly quirk and takes on two of the three other men, the third standing back and watching as Shouta doles out his fair share of bruises while receiving plenty of his own. Once he’s almost completely handled his pair, he sees the third guy make his move from the corner of his eye, his musculature growing as he activates his quirk. Activating his own, Shouta turns his body to brace for the impending impact that would come with the guy jumping at him. A low grunt escapes him as the air is knocked out of him, and as he locks eyes with his new opponent he distantly hears Joke let out an angry shriek after likely taking a particularly harsh hit. One of the guys Shouta had been fighting had abandoned him to go join the fly guy in fighting Joke, so she likely had her own hands full and wouldn’t be able to help in any way — not that he needed it. The only really talented fighter out of the four enemies on the roof was the last man to join the fray, and Shouta could handle him. With a few skillful throws of his capture weapon, Shouta’s more or less finished up his end of the fight. 

A sharp cry from Miss  Joke practically yanks his attention from his opponent so he can look at her, and he finds her on her back against the roof with one of the men with their thick hands around her throat; she’s clearly struggling to breathe. The other man is unconscious, but unbound. A tiny shot of worry races through Shouta’s veins. 

The brief moment that he’d looked away was more than enough for the unnamed enemy to re-engage his strength quirk, and the man burst from the slightly loosened confines of Shouta’s scarf, throwing his entire weight at him. With a surprised shout, he’s thrown faster than he’d expected over to Joke. The man on top of her leaps to the side just before Shouta slams into her, and for a moment the world turns end over end before they’re falling from the roof of the ten story building. 

It takes a second for Shouta to right himself, but before they hit the ground he’s able to wrap one arm around Joke while the other throws his scarf at an overhang on the building he’d been scoping. It catches as intended and they drop to the ground safely, Shouta stumbling a little with the added weight of Joke clinging to him. He can hear the men on the roof opposite them snarling angrily, fixing themselves up and shouting threats against their lives. While they do, the team that had rushed into the building begins filing out, handcuffed traffickers in hand and victims being led out by a few officers. The shouting on the roof silences almost immediately. 

“You alright, Eraser?” It’s Hawks that asks after appearing over his left shoulder with a bound, angry looking man in hand and dangling as the massive red wings on the pro hero beat against the air; the Number Two tilts his head to the side slightly in curiosity while his golden eyes flash in concern as he asks. 

“On the roof,” is all Shouta says, getting straight to the point. “Four men, all working for the ring inside.” Hawks’ pupils narrow to sharp slits, and a dozen feathers zip into the air and over to the roof Shouta had nodded his head towards. Loud yelling and shouts fill the air, followed by shrieks as the feathers binding the men bring them down to the ground. They’re quickly apprehended by the police force assisting the pros in the bust, and all at once the entire event is over. The human trafficking ring that Shouta himself had been focused on bringing down for nearly four years now was destroyed, and all current victims were safe. 

He wishes he could sigh in relief, but there’s an annoying weight on his shoulder. 

“Get off of me, Joke, the danger’s over and this is incredibly unprofessional,” he growls, noticing the way people were staring; he rubs at his eyes to soothe the ever-present burning that came with his quirk use, especially now after the USJ incident; the scar on his face aches at the memory.  

“But something could happen!” Miss Joke exclaims, clinging tighter to him and looking up at him like what he’d said was crazy. “More could be waiting — and I haven’t even gotten to make you laugh yet or agree to that date.”

“You won’t get to do either, now get the fuck off of me!” He snarls, practically tearing her from his side and stepping away. She looks hurt, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was done being nice — clearly it wasn’t working. 

“But Aizawa—!” she starts to whine, but he cuts her off. 

“It’s Eraserhead. You have no right to call me anything else.” With that he storms off, disappearing into the darkness of a nearby alley before making his way through the shadows. All he can think about is the shower waiting for him when he gets home and how filthy he felt having Joke’s hands on his chest and shoulders. It’s why he’s taken by surprise when a heavy figure pushes him into the wall and binds his hands with his own weapon. 

Instinctively he struggles, snarling out a quick threat before the familiar scent of a perfume he’d bought himself reaches his nose, and he relaxes. 

“Evening, Eraserhead,” you murmur lowly, eyes narrowed in displeasure as you look over him, and inwardly he groans. Judging from the tone of your voice, you’d seen all of Joke’s behavior,  but had heard none of what he’d said. You had to have been out of range. 

It didn’t surprise him; Shouta knew you were fond of keeping a watchful eye over him or Hizashi or Nemuri whenever on of them was on a mission like this. You’d have accompanied any of them, Shouta especially ( and tonight of all night most definitely ), but that would have been a foolish decision on your part and everyone who knew you personally would not have been pleased with any possible outcome that followed.

A known villain like yourself would have been swiftly arrested by any police officer or pro hero that didn’t know your civilian identity — and only the three aforementioned people did. 

“It isn’t what you think,” he says tiredly, and a bitter laugh escapes you. Shouta winces; you were hurt. 

“Isn’t that what they all say?” you ask coldly, and Shouta does not reply. He’s too busy staring at the slight tremble in your chin and the way your eyes are getting slightly wetter. 

God. Joke really did have to fuck up everything.

He sighs. “I mean it. It isn’t what it looked like.” You look at him, pondering the denial; Shouta wasn’t a liar. Not once throughout the years you’d known him had he lied to you, even when he’d been after you to arrest you before the two of you had started dating. 

Fine. 

You narrow your eyes. “Talk.”

So he does. He admits to the harassment, to Joke ignoring boundaries and not caring about how many times he’s requested she leave him be. He talks and explains and confesses to things he’d kept secret from you for years, and it takes over half an hour. Over the course of his explanations, the grip you’d had on him goes from a deadly one to one so loose he can barely feel it. The spots would bruise, but he’d wear them with pride as he did any other marks you gave him; you’d not meant to hurt him, and he’d be damned if he let you get into your head about how tight your grip had been. 

By the time he’s finished, you’re shaking — not from the cold, he knows, but from ill-concealed rage. 

“So you’re telling me that you told her to get off of you and to stop touching… and she didn’t?” Your face has been swiftly schooled into an impassive blank canvas, a look he hasn’t seen in years and therefore can no longer read. Hesitantly, he nods, and your eyes flash with an anger he’d not seen since Nemuri was kidnapped by a sex trafficking ring three years back. “And this has been going on for years, but you haven’t told me until now because you thought it would strain the relationship.” Another nod. Your eyes narrow. “Noted. She’ll be on the news tonight.”

You release him from his binds and disappear, scaling the wall and racing across the rooftop. Shouta barely has time to think, but he doesn’t have to in order to follow you, quickly catching you and standing in your way of getting to Joke’s usual patrol route.

“No, you can’t kill her. Not tonight,” he says warningly, and you look angry. 

“You told her to stop and she didn’t. You've told her to stop for years. She doesn’t listen, and she thinks it’s okay. Heroes won’t ever do anything, Shouta, you know that.” The venomous tone you’re sporting  is unmatched, and if Shouta hadn’t known you as well as he does, he’d think it was aimed at him; thankfully he’s known you for years. That being said, he did know that, and honestly it stung a little. 

“I can handle it tonight.” The poison in your voice has transformed into the thickest, most sweet honey as you tempt him. Your eyes are soft, your gaze gooey and only possibly described as sticky sweet. “It could all be over, baby — she’d never bother you again.”

It’s tempting. More tempting than a pro hero should ever allow — but Shouta’s never been the kind of man to balk in the face of the wicked and condemn them for their actions without thought. He was not a good man, and  he doubted there ever was one — he was kind, he was wise, and he was gentle when required, but if he was as good as society deemed the word, he would have turned you in five years ago when the two of you met and he’d captured you after you’d murdered three men. Instead he’d been attracted to you, and a game of cat and mouse had started between the two of you that only ended when he’d caught you again and taken you in an alleyway. 

“That’s wrong,” he murmurs, hands shaky as his heart rate quickens; god, you were so fucking sexy when you promised to murder for him. 

“I never implied that it was right,” you admit casually. For a moment silence stretches out between the two of you, Shouta once again pondering the offer you’d made, then he shakes his head again. 

“No. Not tonight. I don’t feel like scrubbing blood out of the bathroom again,” he says tiredly, and you pout. 

“It’s never usually mine,” you grouse, crossing your arms and turning to look away. 

“And you know how happy that makes me,” he replies warmly, “But I want to be able to hold you and go to sleep tonight without the looming pressure of scrubbing the bathroom in the morning; you know how Hizashi is with blood, and he wanted to go out for breakfast tomorrow before work.”

You let out a wordless grumble, still not looking at him. He searches what parts of your face he can see with the angle you’re turned, and jumps a little when you look at him with nothing but promises of death in your eyes as he lets you push him against the wall again. “If I see that stupid bitch touch you again, I’ll kill her,” you growl, then yelp when he suddenly flips you, your chest and cheek against brick and his chest to your back. 

“If she ever pulls that shit again, I’ll let you,” he promises while pressing slow kisses along your bare skin, biting at your neck and drawing a whimper from your lips. He grins against you. “Go back to the apartment and let me finish my patrol so I can get the hell home and fuck your dumb little brains out, kitten.” A shaky moan falls from your lips and you push your ass back against him. 

“Or you could just fuck me here?” you offer hopefully, your eyes glittering darkly with a newfound interest he knows all too well. “Please Daddy, I’m so wet for you-” A sharp smack to your ass makes you cry out. 

“You fuckin’ heard me, brat — go home.”

With a growled huff, you tug yourself free from his grip, still pouting. Shouta raises an eyebrow; your next move was yours to make. Would you defy him and go after Joke, or would you listen and go home? Either decision would be preferable, and if he was honest he wouldn’t mind you doing what you pleased to Joke tonight as long as you didn’t track blood into the apartment, but why would he admit that now?

You huff again, and promptly disappear into the inky blackness — away from the direction of Joke’s patrol route, and Shouta barely fights off an amused chuckle. 

You always were such a good girl for him. 

When Shouta finally gets home at half past four, the apartment is dark. He can smell the scent of food from his favorite takeout place, though the initial strength of it is soft and faded, and the soft hum of the television in the bedroom keys him in on where you’ve retreated to.  Toeing off his boots, he wanders into the bedroom, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes in the sight of you curled up in the bed you shared with him, surrounded by pillows with the little grey cat you and he had taken off the streets curled up in your lap, dozing. Shouta sighs; as calm as he was now, Shouta knew damn well the little monster you’d for some reason named Tofu was going to slap him for no fucking reason later, so he thanked whoever was listening that the little guy was napping right now so he could take a break and wash off all the filth from tonight’s bust and patrol. 

He wanders into the bathroom, stripping down to the clothes he wore beneath his hero uniform and kicking the black mass of cloth towards the laundry hamper; the urge to piss was far greater than any need to pick them up off the floor right away. 

After finishing up, he hops into the shower, eager to rid himself of the grime he’d collected overnight, and once he’s done he makes his way back into the bedroom, lazily toweling himself dry before moving to the dressed to pull out a pair of sweatpants.  

“What are you watching?” he asks you quietly as he puts them on, and you shrug. 

“I don’t know,” you reply, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“You don’t know?”

“No, I haven’t been paying much attention,” you admit quietly, gently playing with Tofu’s tail; he keeps dozing, unbothered. “I’ve had a lot to think about.”

Suddenly the warmth Shouta had felt like he’d sucked in from the shower disappeared, leaving him cold and nervous. You’d had several hours to think about everything he’d told you, and he worried that you were mad at him now. Admittedly he’d technically lied for a long time, keeping secrets from you and not telling you how he felt about Joke for years, so he really couldn’t blame you for being upset with him, even just a little ( or a lot ). The only comfort was that you were still here — because Shouta knew you. If you were going to leave him, you wouldn’t have been in the apartment when he’d returned. Just like you’d first entered it all those years ago, so would you leave it should you choose to abandon the relationship: quickly, silently, and without any reasons to raise suspicion. 

Thinking about it, Shouta didn’t even know if you’d take Tofu if the two of you separated. How would that work?

“We aren’t separating, and I’m not leaving you,” you say tiredly, and Shouta fights off the urge to kick himself; he’d spoken out loud without meaning to. 

You sigh. “That being said, I do want to know why you didn’t tell me.” Shouta tries to repeat what he’d told you, but you look away. “The truth, Shouta. Not the excuse you made before.”

Silence. 

It takes a moment, but finally Shouta just drifts to the bed and sits down on his side with his back to you, looking down at his hands. “Shame,” he finally whispers, and you look at him with a confused gaze. “I just… how could I admit that I couldn’t get her to stop when I’m a pro hero?” Your eyes turn soft and understanding, and he continues in a tone of disgust, refusing to look at you. “I feel so weak. I’m a grown man and I couldn’t fucking stop her — I can’t stop her. I already know the next time we cross paths she’ll be the same. Nothing will change, and I’ll always be… stuck.”

A second silence overtakes you both. You say nothing, only watching the way his shoulders have a slight tremble, before moving Tofu and kicking back the thick layers of blankets, crawling on your hands and knees over to him. He doesn’t look up at you, still staring at his own hands as you cup his head in yours and move his head up so you can see his face. 

He still doesn’t lock eyes with you. 

“Shouta,” you murmur softly. “Look at me.” He makes no attempt to move. “Please?” He does as asked, and you smile softly. “There’s that handsome face,” you murmur, your voice as warm as his morning coffee, and he scoffs. 

“Don’t coddle me,” he mutters, and you grin, not missing the way his lips quirk up in a soft, blatantly fond smile.

“If I don’t, who will?” you ask teasingly, and his tiny smile widens ever so slightly. You grab one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as you sit back on your calves, and your sweet smile twists. “Besides, haven’t I made it obvious to you? You’re mine. Nothing’s gonna change that, Sho, and no one is going to be able to take you away from me.” A murderous gleam flickers in your eyes, and Shouta finally looks up at you just in time to catch it. 

His shoulders droop as he relaxes, his muscles losing the tension he’d built up tonight. Somehow, despite the very clear ( though unvoiced ) notion of just what you could and would do if someone tried to take him from you would normally frighten someone else, he felt at ease. 

His eyes close and he relaxes into your touch as you creep close again, this time straddling his thighs while holding him close; he lets his head fall to rest on your chest, and he sighs from the comfort. “Do I need to spell it out?” You whisper softly to him as you lean down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his stubbled jaw, your hands roaming over his shoulders in a way that has him tensing up for an entirely different reason. 

“Maybe — Maybe you do,” he whispers shakily, tilting his head just enough for you to get to that special, ever-so-sensitive spot that you knew had his cock twitching. You laugh softly, your teeth lightly scratching along his heated skin, and he shakes a little as he fights off the urge to move. 

You gently push him back to rest against the stack of pillows you kept on the bed, and his head falls back in pleasure as you purr out a warm, gooey, “M…” against the base of his throat. Laving your tongue across the skin there, you feel him swallow hard, and you laugh lowly again, your voice thick and sweet like syrup as you continue with a simple, “I…” before moving down to his chest. From the corner of your eye you see one of his hands fist in the sheets, and you fight off yet another chuckle as you slip your way down his body before stopping at your next target: one of his dark, hardened nipples. You don’t hesitate to take it into your mouth, your hot tongue circling the sensitive flesh in a way that has his upper body trembling. It presses hard into the soft, wet pad of your tongue, and the breathy sighs falling from his lips as you lavish it in attention while twisting the other amuse you. Grinning slightly, you take it between your front teeth and tug at it a bit, relishing the sharp whine and stuttered moan he lets out from the feeling; his chest had always been so sensitive. “N,” you say, drifting down yet again. Your fingernails dig ever so slightly into his skin and follow the rest of your body down, scratching across his sensitive nipples and leaving him whimpering louder than before. You finally still before your prize, thick and heavy and hard and hidden from you, and you breathe out a wanting, “E…” as you curl your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and pull them down slowly to reveal the tip of his dripping cock. 

Eyes glittering eagerly, you draw his sweatpants down further, releasing the rest of his length as well as his balls, and you gaze at the way it bobs up to slap against the skin of his stomach. His balls are fat and heavy, and you swallow the drool that’s accumulated in your mouth before taking his cock in one hand, slightly turning your head to the side, and tracing a thick line from his balls to his drooling tip with your tongue. A choked noise is ripped from his throat, and you press your tongue against the sensitive spot under his head and lap at it softly before purring a pleased, “Mine.”

It takes a moment, but as his thighs tremble around your head and his breathing gets heavier and heavier, Shouta finally manages to reply. “Yours,” he whispers, and your grin turns wicked with anticipation.

“Yeah, you’re all mine,” you murmur to yourself before taking his cock into your mouth again, this time sucking lazily at the tip until Shouta’s shaking. Looking up at his messy figure above you, you soak in the picture of his heavy breathing and his squeezed-shut eyes as he falls to pieces beneath your touch. Splaying out your fingers, you run your hands across his thighs as you work your way down to the thick, dark curls around the base of his cock. Your fingernails scratch at his sensitive skin, and his thighs quake as you finally fully nestle his cock in your throat, your nose buried in his pubes. He’s clean, as always, and he’s used your favorite body wash; Shouta lets out low noises of pleasure as you slowly begin to bob your head along his length, sending it down your throat then pulling off it all over again until he’s sitting up, his stomach rolling ever so slightly as he stares down at you while panting. 

“Fu-uck, wait, I-!” he moans, instinctively bucking up into your mouth. You laugh a little around him while languidly sucking at his cock, and he groans deep and hard from the feeling of the vibrations before fisting his hand around your throat and tugging you up. “Y’gotta — Y’gotta stop, I’ll cum,” he grunts, holding you up by your neck. You use one thumb to swipe at a smear of pre on your cheek before sticking it in your mouth to suck it clean. 

“That’s the point, Sho,” you say, rolling your eyes. “I want it.”

“And you’ll get it,” he replies with a growl before yanking you up so you’re laying on top of him before rolling you over onto your back with him hovering over you. “Only you’ll be taking it in this tight cunt of yours, so I hope you’re ready.”

He watches the way your pupils blow ever so slightly, and his tongue darts out to wet his slightly chapped lips as you gaze up at him with soft, gooey eyes. With a grin you ask, “Well Daddy? I thought you were going to fuck me?”

A warm hand comes up and gently grips the column of your throat, and your eyes widen slightly as Shouta leans down with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you really want to tempt fate tonight, sweetheart?” he asks coldly, a wicked smile on his face, and your legs spread a little in response. 

“I don’t feel anything,” you purr teasingly, “Don’t tell me it’s already in?”

Without warning, his free hand claps down onto your already sensitive pussy and you let out a choked howl, eyes wide with surprise. During your quick reaction he’d buried his face in your chest, sucking and biting at whatever he could get into his mouth as the hand that had just slapped your cunt gently begins to toy with it soothingly, cooling the stinging and causing a tightness to start building in your belly. 

Shouta was no stranger to the sweet spots scattered across your body and eagerly took advantage of each and every one, biting down on sensitive flesh as his fingers gently eased inside of you and began feeling around inside — teasing, of course, considering he knew where the most sensitive spots were inside of you and he purposefully kept himself from touching them. His thumb runs rough, lazy circles on your clit, and you start rolling your hips up into his hands as he worms his way down the bed, finally releasing your throat. You’re practically dripping now, a small wet spot forming on the sheet below you as your juices roll down past his hands and the curve of your ass to puddle on the bed before soaking onto the fabric. Shouta bites aggressively at your inner thigh, and you whine sharply and reach down to take his hair in your hands, tightly fisting your fingers in it as you needily tug his head toward your center. He just laughs and shakes you loose, slapping your thigh to usher a new cry from your lips before taking his thumb off of your clit so he can use his now free hand to slowly play with the sensitive bundle of nerves and focus his other hand entirely on fitting a third finger inside your sopping wet hole, watching greedily as your cunt swallows them up. 

You’re openly moaning now, sharp cries and whimpers falling from your lips as he curls his fingers and starts playing with an especially swollen, especially sensitive stretch of flesh inside that has you nearly writhing. You can’t stop yourself from rutting your hips up into his touch, however, when that free hand starts making hard, fast circles over your clit at the same time as his curled fingers piston in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace that has you wailing. “O-Oh god, Shouta, please!” You faintly hear him let out a breathless laugh, but you’re too busy gripping the sheets with one hand and your pillow with the other while thrusting your hips in time with each borderline violent press of his thick fingers inside that you barely even make note of it. 

“C’mon now, sweetheart, you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls lowly, an excited glint in his eyes as the sounds of your cries changing in pitch signals that you’re about to cum all over his fingers. God, he wants to lap it up like a cat drinking milk; tasting you was always a favorite pastime. He rolls his hips against the mattress, grinding his aching cock between it and his hips and chokes down a shaky whine of his own as spikes of pleasure shoot through him. “Gonna cum for Daddy?”

“Yes! Yes! P-Please, Daddy, let me cum!” you beg shrilly, your entire body shaking. “Please, wanna cum, gotta cum, feels s’good-!”

Shouta knows that if he looked up at you he’d see little tears beginning to gather along your waterline, glittering in the low light like the most precious diamonds, and the thought has him groaning and grinding against the bed harder. “Y-Yeah,” he moans lowly, “Cum for Daddy, baby, cum for Daddy…”

Your cunt tightens around the three fingers he has buried inside you up to his palm, and he replaces his hand on your clit with his mouth, roughly sucking and lapping at it in a way that has you screeching. Your legs fly up to lock around his head and he lets them, enjoying the tight squeeze of both them and your cunt as you fall apart in his mouth and on his fingers.  “That’s right, sweetheart, just like that,” he moans into your pussy, licking up all of the shocks of wetness that had started dripping down his hand as you came. 

Above him, you’re in tatters, your entire body trembling in a seemingly never-ending spasm. Your eyes have rolled back, and you thoughtlessly clench your thighs around your boyfriend’s head as a means of keeping him in place, desperate to keep coming until you’re screaming.  “G-God, oh god — Fuck, Daddy, p-please-!”

Shouta groans into you like a drunken man into a half-empty bottle, and slowly eases up on the movements of his fingers as your thighs slowly loosen. He doesn’t stop circling your sensitive clit with his tongue, though, until you weakly push him away with one foot. Finally he comes up, though, hair wild and face from the nose down soaked in your cum. In the faint light from the television his chin shines, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest as he climbs up the bed as well as the length of your body before slotting himself between your legs, pressing his wet mouth against yours and initiating a heated kiss that leaves you own taste smeared across your lips and in your mouth. His stubble scratches across your cheeks and chin roughly, and you moan into his mouth from both the feeling as well as the feel of his tongue in your mouth. 

As the two of you kiss, you allow your hands to wander across his chest and shoulders and around his waist and back, feeling the way he rolled his hips against you and ground his hard cock against your messy cunt and loving it. With each rough rut the head of his cock caught on your clit and left you a moaning whore beneath him — as if he was much better in his place above you. 

“Lemme fuck you, please,” he begs weakly, rutting against you desperately, “Please, please — God, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad, sweetheart, please-!”

“Y-Yeah, fuck me!” You gasp, “N-Need it, Sho, need your cock!”

“Fuck yeah, gonna fuck you so good — God you’re so fuckin’ wet, so perfect…” Shouta rambles, fumbling with pressing his cock inside. Gone is the sadistic man who’d lain between your legs taking you apart, and in his place is a man who had already fallen apart at the promise of getting to force his cock inside.

Sitting up, you watch as he uses one trembling hand to press his cock against you, letting out a whimper when it pops inside. The following roll of his hips that buries his length to the base inside you has you letting out a shaky cry; you let your head fall back onto the pillows, your thighs trembling as you boyfriend pulls out then presses inside all over again, quickly building up a rhythm that has the headboard banging against your wall hard enough to have the decorations hanging on it start to shake. In the back of your mind you thank anyone listening that no one had moved into the apartment next to yours yet, and felt a little guilty for whoever would inevitably take up the space. 

“F-Fuck — oh god, Daddy, please-!” you whimper, letting out a shriek as a hand cracks across the fat of your tits, the sensitive flesh stinging sharply as tears spring up in your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks in a never-ending river showing off the pain and pleasure Shouta was putting you through. The feeling of his cock inside of you leaves you trembling, the heavy drag so fucking good and perfect. It leaves you so very full and pleased that when he roughly fucks against your cervix it punches a sharp gasp out of you, the feeling lmost too much alk at once. You cry out for him, a soaking mess, and he moans into the base of your throat as he keeps his quick pace steady and rough, using your cunt like the little hole of his to fuck that it is and seeking his own pleasure like a starving man does food. 

“Oh god, Sho, please!” you wail, tits shaking from each brutal roll of his hips. You throw one leg over his waist as he grunts into your throat, and he wraps an arm under it and hoists it over his shoulder, the position only serving to allow him to bully his cock even deeper inside than before. Tears spring up in your eyes as his head slams against yet again against your sensitive cervix, and you could almost swear that he’d have worked his way into your womb with how rough he was being if that had been possible. Unfortunately it wasn’t, and when he laughs at the fucked out expression on your face it just triggers full tears, which well up quickly in your eyes becore beginning tk roll down your cheeks and temples, fucking ul your makeuo in a way you know will drive him fucking crazy. 

“Th-That’s right baby, cry for Daddy!” Shouta moans, gazing down at the tears and mascara streaking down your face hungrily, “What a good fuckin’ girl, crying on that dick — feels that fuckin’ good, huh?” 

Your nails dig into his back, scratching near-bloody lines across his skin as you struggle to hold onto him; he growls with each deep scratch. “Y-Yeah!” you sob, trying to speak but unable to get much out as he practically destroys you. “F-Fuck, Daddy, c-can’t think — it’s too hard, too hard to th-think when you’re mixing up my insides-!” 

“You can take it,” he growls in response, eyes and hair wild as he starts losing himself to the pleasure. “You can fuckin’ take it, can fuckin’ take this cock — c’mon baby, you’re my good little whore, aren’t you? Gonna take this fat fuckin’ cock like a big girl and milk me dry?” 

You wail, completely overwhelmed in only the best way as that ever-familiar knot begins to tie itself up in your lower belly, nodding wordlessly as his thrusts just get rougher and rougher. Your jaw falls open from the pleasure, you eye crossing and eyelashes fluttering, and he spits a fat glob of spit onto your mouth and watches gleefully as you immediately swallow it down. His own eyes roll back at the sight coupled with the sudden feeling of your pussy starting to clench, and he moans out a low, “That’s it sweetheart, cum again for me — cum again for Daddy, cum on my cock!” and relishes the sharp sobs you let out, your pussy spasming around his thick lemgth nd your body shaking in his grip. You cling to him, desperate and needy, and he groans hard as his pace gets messy and loses fluidity as he gets closer and closer, then finally starts cumming. 

“Oh g-god, oh fuck-!” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shuts as he fucks intk you messily, filling you with rope after rope of thick heat until he’s left twitching weakly inside of you. He eases to a stop and the two of you lay tangled up like that for a moment before he carefully pulls out. A mixture of his cum amd yours pours out of your hoel, and the sight makes his spent cock twitch twice before he uses the same  fingers he’d used to stretch you open to press it back inside once, twice, then one more time, less coming out each time before he stands on shaky knees and starts slowly working his way to the side of the bed to walk to the bathroom that stops with your hand curled around his wrist. 

“S-Stay,” you whine plaintively, a soft pout on your face and tears still in your eyes. “Don’t go, stay.”

“I gotta clean us up, honey,” Shouta murmurs softly, eyes fond and warm, and he smiles slightly when you shake your head and deepen the pout. 

“No. Tomorrow.” Your voice leaves no room for argument. “Stay.”

With an affectionate sigh, Shouta nods. “Okay. Tomorrow,” he murmurs, getting back in bed with you. You both worm your way into comfortable positions under the blankets and slot yourselves together, content to cuddle until the two of you fell asleep and inevitably drifted to your previously appropriated sides of the bed. 

The television, still on, drones monotonously in the background as the two of you lay there together, some late night program that neither of you care about playing as you bask in a shared afterglow. Shouta loves moments like this; they’re always so soft and perfect in ways he never thought he’d get — and yet here you were. 

He snatches up the remote and changes the channel a few times before finally muttering to himself and turning it off completely. His stomach grumbles a little, and he considers running to the kitchen for his food, but decides against it until you gently prod him away. 

“Go eat,” you mumble, having heard his stomach. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He huffs out yet another fond laugh and pads into the kitchen, followed swiftly by Tofu, who had long since disappeared from the bedroom when their ‘activities’ had started. He grabs a fork while passing the silverware drawer then  reaches the fridge and opens it, searching through it lazily for a moment before finding his containers of takeout and snatching one up, digging into the chicken pasta hungrily. Several sharp pricks tickle against either side of his left ankle, and he nearly drops the container at the slightly painful feeling before looking down. 

“Tofu, you fucking bastard, let go of my fucking ankle!” he hisses, and the cat looks up at him through wide eyes for a second before turning and biting the back of his ankle hard. “You fuckin’— get off, you little shit!” The cat just growls around its mouthful of his Achilles tendon, and Shouta shakes his leg a little to try and loosen it to no avail, ultimately tossing his food back in the fridge after shoving several more bites in his mouth so he can reach down and snatch up the furry attacker. The cat writhes in his grip, but Shouta refuses to let go and eventually the tiny bastard goes limo in acceptance, and Shouta gets to go back to his food. The cat swipes at a thick piece of chicken, but Shouta puts the fork out of reach just in time. “No fuckin’ way; maybe if you’d not been a little asshole you could have had some, but you decided to be a little shit and bite me. No chicken for you, and I’m telling Mom.”

The cat meows plaintively, and Shouta shakes his head. “Nope, face the consequences of your actions and suffer.” A screech from the cat gets no response, and Shouta quickly finished up his pasta before tossing the box in the trash and closing the fridge; he had more food, but he wasn’t hungry enough to eat them right now, so they could wait until tomorrow. 

He pads back into the bedroom, finding his sleepy girlfriend scrolling through her phone through half lidded eyes. He drops the cat onto the bed and it sprints to her, curling up at her hip on her side of the bed, and he says deadpan, “Your little monster ambushed me.”

You scoff playfully, picking Tofu uo by the armpits and shaking him ever so slightly. “Tofu would never, he’s just a baby,” you purr, laughing a little as he bats at your face with nothing but fluff — a literal sharp contrast to how he’d dug his claws and teeth into Shouta in the kitchen. 

“He’s got you completely fooled, I can’t believe it,” Shouta says, shaking his head and smiling as he climbs into bed next to you. You press close, craving the feeling of his skin against yours, and he worms around until he’s comfortable. A simple silence falls between the two of you, Shouta melting into the mattress just like he’d craved since the night had started.

You’re the one to break the silence. 

“I hate her,” you mumble quietly, drawing invisible pictures on his bare chest with your index finger. You hear him hum in acknowledgment beneath you, then one of those big hands cups the back of your head. 

“I know you do,” is his reply, and you sniff a little and nuzzle closer to him. 

“It isn’t fair,” you pout. “She gets to put her hands all over you even though you don’t like it and no one bats an eye, even when you ask her to stop.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he croons softly, trying to calm you down from the inevitable fit you would have, but this doesn't comfort you. “I have you to make it all better.”

You push yourself up some so you can look at him, your lip jutting out in a vicious pout that he’d already heard in your voice. “You shouldn’t have to handle it, Shouta,” you say seriously. “She should fucking listen when you say no.”

Shouta just nods. “I agree,” he replies gently. “But she won’t change. We both know that.”

You shrug. “Then she’ll die,” you say simply, eyes dark and filling with the beginnings of bloodlust. Shouta hums a little yet again and seemingly ponders this, then nods again. 

“…Hmm. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me,” he says simply, clutching you tightly. You scoff. 

“I wasn’t asking permission.”

“I wasn’t giving it,” he replies, recognizing the teasing tone. He presses back into the mattress with a sigh and allows all the tension to leave his body, relaxing into the bed he shared with you. You nuzzle against him again, and he hums happily at the contact and closes his eyes as the smoky edges of sleep flicker around in his mind. He can feel one of your hands playing with his hair, your fingers running through it and gently working out the knots. 

God, he was exhausted. 

“Sleep, Sho,” you murmur softly, pressing one hand to his cheek. He smiles faintly and leans into your touch as you smile back at him tenderly, and everything fades into a blissful silence. 

A weight on his chest and a soft paw slapping his nose is what rouses Shouta from the deep sleep he’d been in, and he blearily opens his eyes to the sight of Tofu sitting on him smacking him across the face — just like every morning. 

Who needs an alarm clock when you have a cat?

Shouta groans and sits up, stretching and ignoring the annoyed mrrp! his cat lets out when forced to hop down. Glancing to your side of the bed, he smiles softly at the sight of you with wild hair and drool dripping down your chin with one hand thrown over your head, and he leans down and nuzzles you affectionately. You hum softly and slowly blink awake, your first sight of the day being him bumping his nose against yours. 

You grin. “Hi,” you whisper, and he grins back. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, and you giggle. You glance at the clock and then smile eagerly, a sudden lusty look in your eye. 

“Think we could have a quickie this morning before you go to class, Sensei?” you purr, and he groans and lets his head thump against your shoulder, closing his eyes. 

“If you were anyone else, that wouldn’t have been so fucking sexy,” he mumbles, and you giggle before pressing a quick series of kisses to his stubbly jaw. 

“Well, Sensei?” you ask playfully, and he looks at you with dark eyes. “Aren’t you going to teach me a lesson?”

He grins wickedly and doesn’t respond, instead jumping you and pressing you into the mattress. You accidentally let out a gleeful shriek as he begins to lave open-mouthed kisses across your skin, suckling at your skin long enough to leave marks alongside the bruises from last night. 

He pulls away, lips slightly swollen, and locks eyes with you, smiling breathlessly. “I’m gonna take you apart,” he says proudly, and over the next hour he does just that before padding off into the bathroom for another shower, leaving you spread out on the bed with a racing heart. Your entire body feels like a bowl of mush, and as the sounds of him showering in the bathroom reach your ears you groan, forcing yourself to move. You’d wanted to make him a bento this morning, and you damn well were going to. 

It’s done by the time he leaves the bedroom, fully dressed in his hero uniform, and you’re resting on the sectional with Tofu dozing on your lap and one of your several computers on hand. Shouta doesn’t want to know what you’re looking at so excitedly and pointedly ignores the screen as he dips down and catches your lips with his, kissing you deeply. 

“I’ll see you tonight, I don’t have patrol tonight,” he mumbles against your lips before kissing you again. You smile softly and nod. 

“Okay hun. Oh, and don’t forget your lunch on the kitchen counter!” youncall, and he grunts a response. He heads to the kitchen and grabs his keys and a coat as well as his capture weapon, and during all of this Tofu wakes up. The cat darts off of your lap and into your kitchen and then, judging from the choked screech your boyfriend lets out, proceeds to jump the man and start biting. 

“Fucking why, Tofu?!”

You giggle softly and call the cat, and the little menace bounces back to you as if he’d not done anything wrong, curling up in your lap and starting to purr happily. Shouta grumbles the entire way out the door, and then he’s leaving, and you’re still giggling. Hizashi was at the door, ready to grab breakfast with Shouta as expected, and he calls out a quick greeting and says ‘hello’ to Tofu before setting out with your boyfriend, letting the house fall silent. 

You grin and get back to work. 

Hours later you’re hungry, so you put your… less than legal work to the side and head to the kitchen, leaving Tofu asleep on the couch. As you go in, you pause, glancing at the end of the corner of the kitchen counter where the bento you’d made Shouta sits. At first you’re annoyed, but then you grin; he must have put it down in the struggle for his life when he went head on against the cat. 

Grabbing a pretty pink and white handkerchief, you wrap the large box up so you can hold it by handkerchief loops and begin making your way to U.A. School, buying yourself lunch along the way ( Because honestly? You deserved it. ). It takes around an hour, but eventually you make it, and after a few more minutes you manage to weasel your way inside and begin your trek through the halls to Class 1-A’s room. 

Ahead of you is a familiar white bundle of fur wrapped up in a small suit, and you giggle softly to yourself.  “Hello, Nedzu!” you greet brightly through a grin that mimicked a shark's predatory smile. The stoat ahead of you freezes, then turns quickly and responds in kind, his small black eyes shining darkly as the two of you — a frequent pair online when it came to tearing down certain aspects of hero society — coem to meet in the hallway. 

“Hello! What brings you to U.A. today?” he asks kindly, walking beside you as you continue on your way,  and you laugh genuinely. 

“Shouta forgot his lunch at home, I was just bringing it to him,” you explain with ease, and he nods. 

“Oh, how kind!” he replies, and smiles again while narrowing his eyes. “Though next time we will have to get you a security access card; it won’t do to have unannounced guests slipping in and out of the school!” Though the two of you could be considered ‘friends’, the slight warning was clear; while he wasn’t upset with you for coming in, he’d have preferred to not have a weakness in security that you could take advantage of enough to enter the school undetected.

Oh well. He’d patch the ‘hole’ and you’d find a new way to worm yourself in until the security system was sl tightly woven a drop of water couldn’t seep through. That was the entire purpose of this game, after all. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” is the only response you give, and it seems to please him enough. The rest of your walk to Shouta’s classroom is spent in interesting conversation, various subjects coming and going until finally you reach the classroom door. 

“Well, this is your stop!” Nedzu says brightly. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thank you!” you call kindly as he disappears around a corner, and you knock then enter. 

All eyes lock on you as you come in, and out of all of them the only ones that don’t shine with confusion are your boyfriend’s. He stands from his chair and strides over to you quickly, an eyebrow raised, and growls quietly in a tone many ( but not you ) would consider harsh, “Now you know damn well you aren't supposed to come here — do you realize how many people there are here who could identify you?” 

You just smile brightly. “You left your bento on the kitchen counter!” you say, and he pauses for a moment and looks down at the pink bundle. 

“…Oh,” he mumbles simply, then nods. “Thank you, then.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile, and he turns to put it on the desk then pauses. You tilt your head to the side curiously, still ignoring the twenty pairs of eyes on the pair of you, as he turns around. 

“How the hell did you get in?” Shouta asks, both curious and confused, but you just giggle and give him a quick, soft kiss on the lips. 

“That’s a secret for me and Nedzu to know, honey,” you say sweetly, then disappear out the door. Aizawa stares after you, then sighs. 

“Well fuck,” he mutters. “That’s a match made in hell; god, why did I introduce those two to each other?” He turns and faces the sea of children he’d momentarily forgotten he had, and freezes. For a moment he fears they’ve recognized her, but then he registers that all twenty of his stupid children are grinning like the little devil spawns they are, and he fights off the urge to groan. “Why me, god?”

“Aizawa-Sensei has a girlfriend!” Ashido shrieks excitedly, and his entire Hell Class devolves into excited banter and rambling, endless questions pouring his way from all twenty, even the handful he trusted to be the quiet ones. 

“Why didn’t you tell us about your girlfriend, Sensei?!” Ashido asks, mimicked afterwards by nearly twenty voices. 

“Is she our new mom?” Kaminari asks, glancing at Kirishima through a grin that was brightly returned. The entire class giggles at the question. 

“Sensei has a girlfriend! Sensei has a girlfriend!” comes a random cheer from seemingly nowhere, likely Hagakure, and Shouta collapses into his chair with his face buried into his hands as twenty voices pummel him with question after question and the shrieks never end. 

“This. This is why I never told you,” he grumbles in response to Ashido, and the entire class devolves into more giggles and talking. Shouta sighs; it was only Monday. 

This was panning out to be a long week. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

#shouta aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x reader #— kinktober_23.♡ #shouta aizawa x you #shota aizawa x you #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shota x you #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x you #my hero academia x you #bnha x you #mha x you #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kinktober #kinktober 2023

[irisintheafterglow]

Hellooo 🫠 so how would satoru react to his little twin sister and suguru secretly dating? Maybe he catches them having a moment or satoru makes a comment and she slips up?

oops?

wc: 0.7k

cw: swearing and dramatic, overprotective satoru, gn!reader

note: BABEE THIS CONCEPT IS SO FUNNY TO ME OMG YOU'RE A GENIUS !!! i hope you enjoy this, this was so fun to write :D

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"i-i can't with you two, right now. please, get out of my sight." he sighs in melodramatic anguish, whirling away with all the flair of a musical theater actor. you could almost imagine the shakespearean cape swooshing behind him as he turns.

"satoru-"

"stop it! there are so many things going through my mind right now and i don't want to know about any of them!" you glance at your boyfriend who hasn't stopped pinching the bridge of his nose for the past five minutes. satoru discovering your relationship was not in either of your plans for the day. you're grateful that suguru tied his hair up; otherwise, he would have probably torn it out by now.

"satoru, we didn't-"

"i'm not listening! i'm not listening!" your brother plugs his ears like a toddler, obnoxiously reciting the abc's until his voice becomes hoarse. it's your turn to sigh, rolling your eyes and praying he calms down long enough for you and suguru to explain yourselves.

satoru wasn't supposed to be in your dorm when suguru came to pick you up, but a quickly completed mission and downtime to kill with girls he'd never see again proved too important of a story to tell you over the phone. as much as you tried to deter him, saying that you'd spilled body spray and he'd get a headache or shoko had left a massive fart on your bed, nothing worked. he burst into your room completely unannounced while you were changing and you stupidly revealed you were going on a date in a panic.

"a date? oh, that's right! you're seeing a guy now, right?" he jumps onto your bed unceremoniously, crossing his legs into a lanky pretzel and leaning forward with great interest.

"satoru, please," you pleaded with him, "you have to go. i need to finish getting dressed."

"what's he like? is he treating my little sibling like he's supposed to?"

"you're older than me by a minute, asshole," you yell from the bathroom, darting around to find all the things you needed to throw into your bag before you left. "you're not allowed to meet him yet, so please leave." the urgency in your voice finally gets through to him and he raises his hands in defeat, making his way to the door when your phone dings. it's from suguru. you throw down your phone, running to grab your brother's arm before he opens the door, but it's too late. the door opens and they speak at the same time.

"hey, gorgeous-"

"what the fuck are you doing here?" suguru's body goes deathly still, unable to come up with a coverup fast enough before satoru connects the dots. "oh. oh my god!" so much for keeping the relationship a secret.

"satoru, look-"

"you're seeing my fucking twin? that's who you've been talking about so much? you're in love with my twin sibling?" suguru's face goes bright pink and he glances at you, stammering pointlessly. you can't help the scoff that escapes you at the fact that suguru talks about you to your twin brother.

"you're in love with me?"

"task at hand, babe," he mutters and satoru flinches at how nonchalantly the pet name slips from his best friend's mouth.

"'babe?' you call them 'babe?'" the conversation devolves into pure chaos. satoru continues to lament his feelings about betrayal by the two people closest to him while those same two people yell at him that it wasn't that serious until yaga's face appears over suguru's shoulder.

"if you all would politely cease your bickering, i am trying to sleep," he says with barely restrained anger and all three of you shrink away, murmuring various apologies. when your principal leaves, satoru gives a deep exhale before turning to his best friend.

"don't hurt them, suguru," he commands in a tone you'd never heard from him before. "i'm dead fucking serious."

"i know you are, satoru," he concedes, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "and, i'm sorry for not telling you. i didn't know how to."

"yeah, yeah, i know. get out of here, already, yeah?" he waves dismissively, ushering you out the door and into suguru's arms. "don't do anything stupid, you lovesick freaks."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #suguru fluff #geto fluff

[ashessonfire]

if you’re still looking for headcanon requests: what about kaz and reader who is disabled/suffers from chronic pain? i don’t often see x reader fics include things like disabilities, and it’s really quite nice to have found a character like kaz whose struggles i can relate to - ty <33

Kaz Brekker x (Chronically ill) Reader - Headcanons <3

- Paring : Kaz Brekker x Chronically ill! Reader A/N - Thank you so much for this request, and absolutely this is important, and i suffer from multiple chronic illnesses and pains too! I am basing it off my own experiences, which is chronic illness, but i hope it's general enough for anyone to relate to :) ════ ∘◦ᵒ 𓅓 ᵒ◦∘ ════

Kaz Brekker's image is one that permeates throughout the whole city, not a soul is unaware of the leader of the Crows

His limp only adds to the terrifying image, broken and twisted in every element of his being, yet completely unrelenting.

However, privately, his leg causes Kaz excruciating pain, a constant ache that never seems to cease, fatigue from stumbling around for too long, or the cold inducing agonizing flares of pain.

As a result, Kaz has become familiar with the aches and troubles, so when his partner reveals they experience something similar? Kaz suffers from a great mixture of hurt and relief

Why is he relieved you may ask?

Well, the bastard of the barrel can finally offer someone a sense of comfort and support, which in most things he finds practically impossible to do.

Sharing the experience with Kaz would offer the both of you solace, although at first it may come across as if he doesn't notice your constant pain.

However, very swiftly small pots of expensive medicines would arrive neatly wrapped on your bed, his cane would conveniently be placed close by during a flare up, and your favourite foods would mysteriously make their way to you, helping to brighten the tougher days.

Kaz is not a man of words, at all, however he would work on verbalizing his concerns, reading you easily and offering clipped but gentle check in's, like :

"How is the pain compared to yesterday?"

"I'm not going out soon, take my cane just in case"

"The painkillers are already in your drawer, I had Inej replace them this morning"

In terms of severe pain, both chronic + caused by a disability, please expect to never move a muscle - he will 100% get someone else to run around and do everything for you, especially when he himself is struggling.

If you care for him in return, you may even get a few faint smiles - he would be so deeply grateful for your attentiveness and devotion (but obviously it's Kaz, he won't show it freely)

Another reason i believe Kaz would be relieved, is that someone would finally understand his own disability and pains

You would be able to return his gestures, offering him the same sense of security and compassion, without overbearing sympathy or pity - something Kaz detests

Just after he broke his leg, I can vividly picture the pigeons of the barrel dramatically cooing at the young boys limp, explaining their sorrows for him with overwhelming pity

After this, he would undoubtedly threaten any sorrow for his condition with an excruciating death

Let's just say word spread quickly, and few dared to repeat this offence...

Kaz would also have little diaries tucked away in his office and at the slat, detailing each symptom of yours during flare ups - allowing him to prepare anything you could possibly need when the next one arrives

Kaz would feel more at ease with you than anyone else, and would likely share his own hardships with you - knowing that the pair of you can relate on a level few others could match

Honestly i just know that he would be in a strange way very relieved for you to understand his own struggles - allowing for him to be more comfortable with you overall <3

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P.S : As a chronically ill person myself, I just wanted to say that my requests will always be open for ideas like this, and my private messages are open for anything. If anyone is experiencing any form of chronic illness and needs someone to talk to, I am here for you!! It can be super isolating and difficult, especially when those around you cannot understand your struggles, even if they try to. Hopefully this post can find all my spoonie crow fans!! <333

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader #shadow and bone #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #shadow and bone season 2 #kaz brekker x reader imagines #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker headcanons #ashessonfire #requests open

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Human Miles Quaritch x reader

Good girl-part 1

warnings: smut, swearing, minors DNI

4,491 words

PART TWO

background info:

you are a 25 year old botanist, closely shadowing Grace Augustine when you are forced to spend time with the very man you and your whole department despise in order to be granted access to a mission on Pandora; can you come to an arrangement that would suit you both?

You were deep in thought as you worked side by side with the great Grace Augustine, in her element as she sampled plants, her findings surprising even herself. It seemed the connection between Pandoran flora and the planet itself was much more intertwined than you ever would've believed.

"Can you believe it, ranger rick is requiring you to go through his bootcamp before you're allowed on the next mission, he'll delay the whole project, and with my best scientist too,"

Grace huffed as she paced back and forth in the lab, retrieving varying pieces of equipment and samples in a panicked flurry.

"What?"

You hissed lowly.

"Yeah you better believe it, I want you to kick that asshole in the balls if you get the chance,"

she growled, exasperated with the head of security's constant meddling in the science department, a place he didn't and would never understand.

"But why, why me?"

You whined, almost dropping your pipette at the thought of the horrors that man would put you through to ensure you were 'mission ready.'

"You're the only scientist that's not been out in Pandora yet, apparently it's part of a new safety regime, personally I think he's just doing it to get under my skin,"

she continued, finally ceasing her bustling around the room in a panic, settling one hand on her hip as she pondered all the possible solutions.

"I'd say.."

You mused in turn, the room falling silent as you both thought.

"Well I guess I'd better buck up and kick his ass,"

She laughed at the though, oh you were going to beat that man if it cost you your life

"Haha, and do it in the next week if that's alright,"

Grace chuckled a long, obviously amused at the thought of finally putting such an arrogant man in his place.

"Oh you bet I will."

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

You were informed that you would be attending daily strengthening and sparring sessions with the Colonel, in order for him to assess your abilities, your first session starting that very evening.

"God, I really don't want to do this, it's bullshit,"

you moaned aloud, head in hands as you addressed the table full of colleagues, all sympathising with your predicament. You hated the smug man, always wearing those stupid tank tops to show off his-admittedly muscular- arms, smirking at everyone like he was better than them.

"You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it,"

someone wiggled their eyebrows making you gag dramatically, pushing them playfully.

"If I ever enjoy that man, I want you to shoot me in the face,"

you deadpanned, making the table erupt into laughter once more, you, however, did not laugh, being deadly serious, and instead decided to distract yourself by shovelling food into your mouth as if you might be at risk of starving. That was until you felt a large hand gripping your shoulder, turning your head to find its owner, your eyes were met with a cold stare belonging to Colonel Quaritch.

"Y/N,"

he grinned, squeezing your flesh whilst his eyes tracked your movements like a predator watching its prey.

"Colonel,"

you seethed, ripping your shoulder from his grasp as if his touch burned, eyes still locked onto his, waiting for him to reveal his reasons for interrupting you important meal. He simply tapped his watch as he eyed you.

"I believe our first session is upon us,"

he spoke slowly, that same smug smile painted across his face, the one you knew he wore only to cover up his aggression.

"I need to change,"

you spoke dumbfounded, as if it were his fault and not your own poor timekeeping skills.

"Well you better hurry up, I expect you at the gym in 15, don't make me wait,"

he scolded, waltzing off like a peacock as your eyes dragged up from his heavy boots to the back of his head, hoping to burn holes in it.

"For fucks sake,"

you mumbled, pretending to bash your head in on the table before swinging your legs out from the bench and half jogging out of the hall, ignoring Grace's yell to 'not have too much fun', causing a scowl to pinch at your eyebrows, yet you had no time for a witty comeback. For as confident as you were talking shit about the Colonel to Grace and her colleagues, when faced with his looming presence, you couldn't deny the fear that prickled down the back of your spine, especially when he looked at you like he was about to eat you.

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

"Well well well, any later and I would've made you drop and give me 100."

He teased as you sprinted in, bent over and panting before the session had even begun. You said nothing at this comment though, suddenly feeling a little shy being in such an enclosed space with the intimidating man.

"You do any sports Y/N?"

He questioned, his tone now serious as he cocked his hip, one hand resting on his belt buckle.

"I dance a little."

you answered, causing a flash of surprise to cross his features as he clapped his hands together.

"Great, good to know you're not completely sedentary like the other science pukes,"

he laughed making your nose wrinkle in anger.

"Now first is fitness, so I want you to run laps around this room until I tell you to stop,"

he instructed, nodding his head at you expectantly as you groaned in annoyance, starting up another jog and beginning to fulfil his wishes, albeit reluctantly.

The man was gruelling, having you shaking after only the 'warmup' was complete, now looking up at him incredulously from your hands and knees after he'd forced you to show him another 20 press-ups.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed, most the other tree huggers would've tapped out by now,"

he grinned causing you to rise up shakily with your fists clenched at your sides.

"Yeah, well I'm not a quitter,"

you spat, holding his intense gaze, your words only seeming to amuse him further.

"Hm I can see that,"

he nodded with an unreadable expression.

"Go and get a drink, when you come back we'll start with some basic self defence,"

he grunted, watching you jog over to your water, taking greedy gulps from the bottle, the sweet relief from the burning in your throat making you moan in delight, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Once you'd moved the bottle from your lips, your eyes shot to the side, suddenly aware of the Colonel's intense gaze, making you feel exposed as you wiped the water dripping from your chin hastily so as not to make a mess. He coughed to ease the silence before speaking again, more softly than usual,

"You ready?"

You nodded, walking swiftly over to his side, ready to receive instruction.

"Your daddy ever teach you how to punch?"

He asked condescendingly, making your eyes narrow, your body acting before your brain could comprehend, throwing an admittedly feeble, hit to his jaw that he blocked with ease, a deep laugh ripping from his throat as he did.

"I'll take that as a no,"

he jibed, doing nothing to dissipate your anger.

"Come on stand properly,"

he tutted in annoyance, using one leg to kick apart your own before moving your arms up to your face.

"Keep these here to block,"

he grunted, placing one hand on your hip, causing your breath to hitch at his closeness.

"When you punch with this arm, twist from here to give you power,"

he manoeuvred one of your arms with calloused hands to show what he meant, his grip surprisingly gentle on your waist, causing your body temperature to rise exponentially. You'd never really had the chance to look at him up close until now but he wasn't bad to look at, you wondered if he had a wife or girlfriend back home. Then it hit you, what you were feeling for a man you'd always claimed you hated, yet in that moment all you wanted was for him to bend you over on that gym floor and take you for all you were worth.

"You got that darlin'?"

He stifled a laugh at your obvious staring, you looked like a deer in headlights as a crimson blush crawled its way up from your neck to your cheeks.

"Yes sir,"

you breathed, voice barely above a whisper, his presence starting to affect you much more than you'd hoped. He stood back, letting go of you, much to your dismay, as he raised both palms, flat, either side of his face.

"Come at me then."

You sat back in a lunge, placing your feet like he said before and twisting your body to land one punch to his left palm.

"You call that a hit, go again,"

he growled, causing you to come back harder.

"Better, again."

His lesson continued on much the same, with him ordering you to punch quicker, hold yourself stronger, all while he didn't seem to be breaking a sweat, those blue eyes following your every move.

"Sir, how is punching your hand gonna help me survive Pandora?"

You whined, tired out after half an hour of relentless jabs.

"You questioning my teachings doll? what do you suggest then huh?"

You rolled your eyes at his condescending attitude, ceasing your assault on his reddened hands as you sat back in your hip to think.

"I want to spar,"

you concluded suddenly, causing a choking laugh to rip from the man above you, his chest heaving with the force of his amusement.

"You, want to spar with me?"

He accentuated the words by pressing a finger into your sternum before pointing back to himself, a look of disbelief settled into his features as he waited for a response.

"That's what I said isn't it? Or are you scared?"

You teased, catching your lip between your teeth as a devious smile crossed your lips.

"Oh that's how you wanna play, alright then lil darlin', do your worst,"

he stepped back to allow you room to attack as he positioned himself, eyes tracking your body movements like a fox. You wanted him to attack first to give you the upper hand but you could see he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction. So you did what you knew you could, lunging towards him you threw a fist to his jaw, but like the last time he caught your wrist, using it to lock your arm behind you and pulling you into his chest.

"I thought I already taught you how to punch,"

he mused, pulling your arm tighter, causing you to moan in pain as you struggled against him.

"Obviously not well enough,"

you seethed, lifting a leg behind you to crash a foot into his crown jewels, as per Grace's request.

"Ah you little shit,"

he grunted, falling to his knees with the pain, dragging you down with him as he pushed you onto your elbows and knees, his own body caging you to the mat as he breathed heavily against your ear.

"Looks like you're mine,"

his husky voice graced your ears making a poorly suppressed shiver wrack your body, able to feel his body heat so well through your back, it was driving you crazy. Instead of squirming out of his hold you dropped limp against the mat in submission, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes.

"you're heavy,"

you moaned in aggravation, wondering why he still had you pinned to the floor. At your words he removed himself swiftly, sitting back on his knees with a groan, but before he could rise to standing, you had spun into a crouching position, launching yourself at the Colonel to throw him off balance, falling back onto his ass with a grunt. You bounced into a straddling position before sliding your hips to lean against his chest, pinning all your weight into one arm pressed against his neck as you shuffled around to keep your balance. What you didn't expect was one large hand flying to your hip, gripping it like a vice as Quaritch closed his eyes in pain.

"Jesus Christ, stop moving Y/N,"

he all but groaned making your face heat up, suddenly aware of the intimate position, especially when his fingers began to rub slow circles on your hipbone, as if to calm himself. Once opened, his eyes were lazy as they watched you, settling on your face but flicking down to where you sat on his hips once or twice.

"Not that I mind, but you planning on sitting there all day?"

Quaritch smirked, both hands now resting either side of your hips as you sat up, frozen in place by his unwavering stare. Snapping out of your daze quickly, you scrambled out of his lap, heat now throbbing in your body at his suggestive words.

"Oh no you don't."

You heard a voice ring out before you were, once again, pinned to the floor, this time on your back, with the colonel above you, his elbows resting either side of your face as he leaned down to whisper against your ear.

"I think this means I win Darlin',"

his voice, his body, his lips brushing your earlobe, it was all too much for you and you turned your head away from him letting out a pitiful whine as your core throbbed, begging for attention.

"What was that baby? I couldn't quite hear you,"

his voice was strained, now directed against your neck as his lips ghosted your skin, letting them press a few gentle kisses here and there on his journey to your shoulder. You really couldn't help the way your back arched against him desperately or the feeble noises that escaped your mouth.

"Colonel, stop,"

you panted, one arm coming up to grip his back, tugging him in hopes he'd press himself closer.

"Stop?"

He spoke surprised, pulling off of you almost completely as he took in your blushing form, it almost made him laugh how quickly you'd submitted to him in spite of your fighting talk.

"Hmh stop teasing me,"

you whispered in embarrassment, arms coming to cling at the sides of his tank top as you eyed him needily. At your words Quaritch ground himself a little into you, making a moan slip past your lips as he leaned back over, kissing along your jaw and sucking at your pulse causing your breath to hitch, hands still clamped around his shirt.

"Oh I'd never tease you baby,"

The Colonel cooed, pulling back swiftly to yank off his tank, contrary to his words, watching the way that your eyes raked across his naked torso with pride, before reattaching to your neck, teeth grazing your skin occasionally as you writhed in his hold. The tension of the situation was becoming too much for you to bear when you brought your hands up to his silver hair, running your nails across his scalp, pulling a groan from his own lips.

"Then kiss me,"

you breathed, tugging his hair to pull him from her chest, wanting to look at his handsome features once more. Those stormy blue eyes pierced into you as you admired him. You'd never admit it but those scars that marred his face made you so much wetter. You reached a hand to run against the raised lines through his hair, his intense gaze never faltering.

"Yes ma'am,"

a whisper of a laugh left him before he leant down to capture your lips in his, the shock of the sensation making you moan before his mouth began to massage your own. You were lost in the feeling of him and once he slipped his tongue through your lips, you knew you were done for, the warm muscle licking softly into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, rolling them against his own. You were thankful that your wanton moans were muffled by his mouth as you crumbled against him, one leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer as you ran your fingers through his short hair.

"Easy girl, you do that and I can't guarantee I won't fuck you right here."

He grunted, landing a soft spank to your thigh, but you were well passed self respect.

"Hm please, please, I can't take it,"

you whined, drunk on the pleasure Quaritch was giving you.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy,"

he groaned in frustration tipping his head back.

"You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could see you, such a fucking whore baby,"

he snarled, pulling at his belt to open the clasp, his words made you whimper though, worried you might be acting too desperate.

"com'ere,"

he spoke, more softly this time at your forlorn face, pressing a kiss to your lips as he fiddled with the button of his trousers, unzipping the fly and pulling out his half hard cock before stroking it in front of your wide eyes to bring it to full mast. It was thick and pink at the tip, leaking a little precum causing squelching noises to reverberate around the empty room as his hand continued its ministrations. Seeing your still form he leant back over you, slipping his fingers under the waistband of your shorts as his eyes met yours.

"You okay? we can stop if you want to,"

He voiced a little worriedly in response to your wide eyed gaze.

"No, don't stop, please,"

you protested, wiggling out of your gym shorts in a hurry, desperate to feel him inside of you at long last. He reached his fingers down, pulling your underwear to the side, slowly easing in one thick digit which you sucked in eagerly causing him to breathe sharply.

"Fuck so wet for me already, you're really clamping down on me there honey,"

he groaned, eyes locked onto your sex, wiggling in a second finger quickly before pumping it a few times, the feeling having you seeing stars, especially when he curled his fingers a certain way that had you writhing on the floor and calling out for him.

"I think you're ready baby,"

he grunted, lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing the head in swiftly, despite the discomfort it was causing you.

"Shit, you gotta ease up baby I can't move,"

he choked out, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked up to the ceiling as if in need of guidance.

"Mmm Colonel, feels good, keep going,"

you encouraged, pushing your own hips forward to ease him in further causing him to grunt and fall to his elbows.

"Fuck keep still for a minute,"

he gasped, tapping your hip at the instruction before gripping your thigh and hoisting one leg over his shoulder. You laid still, getting used to the stretch, although, feeling a little embarrassed now laid out bare in the RDA gym with your Colonel's cock half inside you.

"You ready?"

He huffed finally, icy eyes meeting yours with a predatory gaze.

"Yes sir,"

you grinned, liking how easy it was to rile him up and at that comment his hips snapped completely to the hilt until he was fully breached, the length almost touching your cervix, a low moan rumbling from your throat in response, it felt like he was almost in your airways.

"Always knew you were a little minx, just wanted someone to punish you properly didn't you?"

He growled, setting a ferocious pace that had you sliding back with the force, hands grappling behind you for the non existent bed-post.

"Only you sir, just wanted you to punish me,"

you cried, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, back arching up into him with every hit to that certain spot inside of you.

"Yeah, it's just for me isn't it, my little whore,"

he groaned a reply, his thrusts becoming impossibly rougher as he caught your clawing hands in his own, bringing them to his back, allowing you to rake your nails into his skin as you endlessly searched for something to ground your against the way he was fucking you dumb.

Neither of you bothered keep down the noises of your sinful actions, both too lost in the pleasure of one another to even care.

"Colonel, I'm gonna, I need,"

you babbled, unable to even form a coherent sentence when you felt the pressure build up inside you from the way his cock was massaging your insides so nicely.

"Be a good girl and come for your Colonel then,"

he grunted, reaching down to rub circles over your clit, making you squeal, locking your leg around his shoulder as you shuddered, the dam inside you bursting as you gripped onto him tightly.

"That's it, shit, good girl, come all over my cock,"

he cooed, his hips stuttering in time with the fluttering of your walls.

"So tight, gripping me like a vice darlin',"

he groaned, punching three more hard thrusts into your slick cunt before he spilled his load inside you, calling out your name as he did it, the spurts of hot cum painting your walls as his, causing you to moan out hoarsely as you held on to him for dear life.

You were both completely spent, Quaritch pulling out quickly before he collapsed onto to the floor beside you, panting from the exertion of your activities.

"Com'ere baby,"

he muttered, tugging you into his side, strong arms wrapping around your waist, face nuzzling your hair whilst you lay on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his steady heartbeats, drawing patterns aimlessly on his abdomen, neither of you caring about your incriminating positions.

"Mm, Colonel"

you mumbled into his sternum, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion, causing a lazy chuckle to arise from above you.

"You all fucked out sweetheart?"

His unscrupulous expression and tilting head never failing to rile you up when he wore that same cunning grin, even if he was right.

"Not like you're any better,"

you grumbled, huffing childishly in annoyance.

"Yeah, I gotta admit you're right on that one, you're a fiery little thing aren't you."

He swatted your ass as he spoke, causing a delighted smile to grace your own lips this time.

"Gave me the battle scars to show for it and everything,"

he continued, eyes trained on his stomach causing you to follow his gaze in confusion before you spied the bright red claw marks littering his skin, dragging all the way down from his shoulders to his hips and you could only imagine the kind damage his back had taken. The sight made a possessive feeling well up in your chest, especially at the thought of someone else seeing them, knowing that he'd fucked you so good. He watched intently as your eyes widened in shock before a smirk settled on your face, fingers tracing the welts on his skin gently.

"Those might be a bit more of a pain to hide though,"

he mused, bringing you out of your thoughts as a singular finger dragged along your neck and shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

You asked dumbly, only when you pulled your shoulder up to your eyes did you become aware of the dark purple blotches he had left, one being shaped suspiciously like the indentation of teeth, making you glower in mock anger.

"Don't act like you weren't the one begging me to rail you darlin',"

he sent you a self-satisfied smirk making you scoff, unable to reply with more than a meagre,

"asshole,"

as you both lay there in comfortable silence, too worn out to make any move to redress or make yourselves look at least a little presentable, that was until you heard the sounds of footsteps readily approaching the gym hall along with the muffled voices of soldiers.

"Shit,"

you exclaimed, scrambling for your shorts thrown halfway across the room as Quaritch too pulled on his shirt, urgently zipping himself back into his cammies, wide eyes meeting yours.

"Oh hey, Colonel...."

Lyle spoke as he and Z-dog stopped in their tracks, taking in your dishevelled appearances and awkward demeanor as you stood about a foot apart

"Y/N?"

His voice rose up when he said your name, as if he were questioning your presence as Z-dog let out an undignified snort from behind him. You knew it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the kind of training you and the Colonel had been doing wasn't exactly RDA standard, only to be further confirmed when you felt the slow dripping of warm liquid from between your thighs and onto the floor below, hurriedly crossing your legs in shame, why the hell did you let him come inside you in the first place?

Luckily, the Colonel's audaciousness saved you any further embarrassment, marching up to his soldiers he barked,

"This gym is occupied for assessments, go train somewhere else and make it quick,"

practically herding them out of the door and slamming it shut behind them before striding back over to your paled form.

"You alright Y/N?"

He placed one hand on your lower back, crouching slightly to meet your eyes with a look of sincerity.

"Fucking hell, do you think they know?"

"Hah, you mean do I think they spotted my cum dripping down your legs? Not sure baby but I sure did,"

he pushed your crossed thighs apart, eyes glowing with amusement at the sight.

"Such a good girl taking your Colonel's cum like that,"

he teased, pulling you closer to his chest before tilting your chin with his fingers, refusing to look away from your wide eyes.

"Don't you dare call me that around other people,"

you glowered, lips brushing his when you spoke.

"Wouldn't dream of it darlin',"

he replied in his gruff tone, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that almost had your knees buckling all over again.

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"Well I don't know what in the hell kind of voodoo you pulled but Quaritch is allowing you to go on the upcoming mission, no delays, even said he was impressed by your stamina!"

Grace emoted with a cigarette in hand, not fully understanding the sentiment of his words, oh but you did, blushing deeply at the memory.

"Wow, who'd have thought,"

you barely squeaked out as you fiddled haphazardly with the test tubes in front of your hands.

"Knew I could count on you to take him by the balls Y/N,"

she nodded, slapping your back gratefully, spurring a coughing fit from you, mind flicking back to your most recent encounter with the colonel which had you on your knees for him obediently beneath his desk.

"Yep, always happy to,"

you stuttered out, causing Grace to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I mean, no aha, just, doing my duty,"

you clumsily filled the silence, not missing the look of surprise held by Grace which she quickly pushed away, taking another drag to distract herself from your strange behaviour.

"Right..."

end

Taglist:

@ab-haya

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@mechformers 

@lvangel98

@htnw004

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@violet-19999

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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#miles quaritch smut #human miles quaritch #avatar fanfiction #james cameron #stephen lang #miles quaritch fluff #miles quaritch x reader #avatar miles quaritch

[waywardsummoner46]

Evader of the Endless

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x (?)reader, future all Endless x reader (maybe)

Summary: “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Evader of the Endless, Challenger of Ancient Laws, it has been no easy feat locating you. Prepare yourself for each of us, we are quite unforgiving of those that dare defy our ways.”

Word Count: 1754

Warnings: Nothing extreme yet. Future violence, gore, blood, dub/con, mind manipulation, imprisonment, neglect, abuse and definitely way more and worse

A/N: The Sandman has taken over my life, help. Expect more of this, Eternity, and an Our Beautiful Girl part two within the next few weeks. Let me know what you think and be sure to tag along, this one will be intense.

“So, let me get this straight, you think that there is some sort of mystical higher power out there that hasn’t presented itself because… why?”

  You sighed exasperatedly. “That is not what I said and you know it, Gabriel. All I said was humans suck, so if there is a higher race, I don’t blame them for not showing themselves, you know?”

  Throwing his head back with laughter, Gabriel struggled to understand your logic. 

  “Don’t laugh at me, Gabe. What I’m saying is completely sensible,” you pouted playfully. When his laughter never ceased you raised an amused brow and crossed your arms challengingly. “I can’t help but feel as though you aren’t taking my words seriously.”

  Only after you hit him did he stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I really am but that is seriously some dodgy logic, (Y/N).”

  “Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, oh-great-one, how is it dodgy?”

  In typical Gabe fashion, his posture immediately straightened, his jacket was dusted off and his throat cleared quite dramatically. You barely withheld a sigh of affectionate frustration. “First of all, if there was a more intelligent race than us they would most definitely either invade or make themselves known because of how much humans suck. They would undoubtedly assert their superiority over us and, honestly, would probably make fun of us. I know this because… well… I’ve lied to you, (Y/N). I am actually a martian,” he jokingly raised his hands and went to tickle you but thanks to your quick reflexes, you evaded his attacks.

  “I was genuinely willing to listen to you, then. You’ve ruined it now, well done, you idiot.”

  Poking his tongue out at you in retaliation,  you decided not to engage in any further unintelligent conversation with someone who won’t do the same. As a result, you declared you were going to get another round of drinks as you needed to get away from his brainless arguments (by now, you were used to them so you didn’t mind that much). 

  Gabriel was an extremely questionable person but he was a good one, nonetheless. Having known the guy since you were eleven, suffice to say he was one of your closest, if not the closest, friend you had. Unfortunately, life went by and you both went your separate ways to your individual colleges - it was only now that you’d finally met up. Words couldn’t describe how happy you were once you realised the ease in which you both fell back to your usual dynamic. 

  It was that reason that you’d got on the subject of your otherworldly opinions; randomly, aliens were brought up and the conversation just stemmed from there but you made a solid argument with solid beliefs.

  Hypothetically speaking, if aliens or beings of a higher power or even Gods of old myths exist, why would they reveal themselves to an already dying race? Humans were slowly killing themselves off anyway so why would they either try and redeem the irredeemable or conquer the slowly dying? Like pieces in a puzzle, the logic coexisted in your brain and you felt a childish sense of pride with your hypothesis (it was also highly entertaining garnering a reaction from people). 

  However, at the end of the day, the entirety of it was a fun little theory and while it does bring you some comfort to think that humans aren’t the most intellectual beings in the universe, your realistic brain realised that nothing would ever come of it. 

  “Alright, my darling? How can I help you?” The friendly barman asked you as you sat on the barstool. Smiling at him, you requested the same again and nodded gratefully when he went about it.

 Life was very monotonous. It was fun and full of pleasant surprises but monotonous, all the same. You loved it, though; especially the familiarity of a pub’s atmosphere. Like a warm blanket, the blurred voices of the pub’s regulars danced in your ears and as you glanced around the bar, a small, fond smile at how at peace everybody seemed inside of the White Horse.

  There, your smile remained as still as frozen as a painting… but then, you saw him.

Him in all his otherworldly glory. Him with the beautiful contrast of his black clothes against his pale skin. Him who looked so out of place in the small tavern. Him who carried himself with the self-respect of a king… and him, whose gaze was as piercing as any dagger, who was looking directly at you. 

  That realisation snapped you out of your unabashed admiration and bewilderment long enough for you to turn away and back to the bar. Biting your lip, you cursed your staring and lack of social awareness; the embarrassment of having been caught churned in your gut and you did not dare ponder on how he felt. 

  Glass hit wood and you raised your head. “Here you go, love,” the bartender kindly said.

  Unfortunately for you, your eyes were still a bit dissociated and he noticed. “Everything alright?”

  Immediately, you jolted to attention. “Yes! Yes, sorry, everything’s fine…” Trailing off, you glanced behind you again to where the striking man had been (sighing in relief and disappointment when you found him gone) and the bartender followed your gaze. 

  He didn’t comment on your suddenly flattened demeanour but he did pat your back with something akin to support. Smiling gratefully, you grabbed the drinks and turned to make your way back to your table. 

  Halfway was about all you managed before the glasses fell from your hands and crashed to the floor with a deafening shatter. 

  The man was… sat… at your table, chatting idly to Gabe although all of his attention was seemingly on you. He also seemed to be the only one who had even registered you dropping the glasses as no one else had even batted an eyelid at your humiliating lack of self control. Bravely, you tore your eyes away from the man and looked around the room once more; everyone was either extremely kind or unfathomably oblivious to their surroundings. Good to know you weren’t the only one with no public awareness.

  Suddenly, cool sensations could be felt in each of your hands and your eyes nearly left their sockets when you beheld the glasses, the fully intact glasses, resting innocently in your hands. Beneath furrowed brows, you also noted how there was no liquid or broken glass anywhere on the floor leaving you to not only be confused, but slightly scared of what was happening to you.

  “You dare to challenge us so, little challenger?”  

  If you hadn’t been so hyper fixated on the surreality of your situation and more focused on your distinct and newfound affiliation for this man, you probably would have fainted on the spot. You may still do that, except it would be because of the barely concealed threat within his words you how erratic your breathing was becoming.

  A tickling sensation across your face temporarily calmed you. It was light and  danced across your face like dandelions floating in a breeze. Once your rapid blinking stopped, you noticed, through increasingly heavy eyelids, that the man was now standing away from the table and had a dark, grainy substance in his hand, Gabe was slouched in his seat sleeping and snoring lightly.

   Sand. This nutjob had blown sand in your face if his lowering hand from his mouth signified anything and it was causing you to grow terrifyingly tired. Was it mixed with some sort of air-bourne sedatives? Did those even exist? 

  Your growing panic didn’t seem to be lost on him before you, as he glided effortlessly over to you and began circling you. You were the prey and he was, undoubtedly, the predator. 

  Luckily, you still possessed enough coherent thought to notice his hand raising once more so you staggered backwards with the instability of a newborn deer and fell back against the bar. “No! Don’t blow anymore of that… stuff at me,” you mumbled weakly through drooping eyelashes. “What did you do to my friend?” 

  Onyx flooded your already shrouded vision. Hopelessness overwhelmed you so you thought it best to look in the eyes of the one who’d started all of this. Swallowing your remaining cowardice your lethargic head tilted up and up. Up to the almost ethereal look of his cloak, then to an entrancing light emanating from a gorgeous ruby that hung from his neck. In your peripheral, you registered his pouch of sand but that’s not what held your attention. No, it was the grotesque, skeletal, utterly ghastly mask that he now wore upon his head.

   There was no way to describe it apart from nightmarishly haunting. It was not dissimilar to a gas mask except, the eye sockets were just a little too wide, too red, and the “canister” resembled someone’s spine too much for you to even begin to comprehend just what had presented itself to you. 

  “Please… don’t hurt me,” you whispered. Tears now flowed freely down your cheeks. The fear you’d felt before now multiplied tenfold as your eyes shut for the final time, leaving you blind to his movements. 

  Bafflingly, there were no sounds of rustling fabric or distorted breaths from beyond the mask. In fact, there were no sounds at all. The creep was toying with you, how dare he take advantage of your vulnerability? Degrade you even more by delighting in your helplessness? 

  More grains of sand fluttered across your face and you quickly found yourself descending deeper into the abyss of sleep. At least you won’t be able to feel the pain, right? 

  Stuck on the bridge between consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt an arm snake beneath your knees and another supporting your shoulders. The distinct feeling of your head lolling into something that felt worryingly like the junction of someone’s neck and shoulder would’ve caused you to snap out of your exhaustion but, for the life of you, no effort to wake was rewarded. If anything, you plunged further into sleep and into a realm that should protect you. Instead, you had an inkling that whatever awaited you in sleep would not be for your benefit.

  “(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Evader of the Endless, Challenger of Ancient Laws, it has been no easy feat locating you. Prepare yourself for each of us, we are quite unforgiving of those that dare defy our ways.”

  You never heard his warning, sleep had already overtaken you by then. When you awake, who knows what will happen?

#dream of the endless x reader #dream x reader #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #desire of the endless x reader #death of the endless x reader

[thegoldenavenger]

Here's a quick. Thing. They're All God's (except LBH) AU. This is like, the ending. no i dont explain anything. i just wanted lqg to get melted down and rebuilt. you know, as gods do. this does have an open/unsatisfactory endind just fyi haha

When he loses the first time, Liu Qingge refuses to acknowledge it. It doesn't matter, after all, as long as he tries again he can change something. He returns the second, third, fourth, fifth times.

He has lost count when he realizes that the something he has changed is in him. With the same heaving blood soaked breaths he coughs up at Luo Binghe's figure, something has been changed in him.

Of course. He cannot be the God of Breakthroughs if he cannot break through.

He keeps losing.

Each battle he marches into is another dig at his once spotless reputation. He feels his divinity and grace slough away from him like dried mud. Still he faces Luo Binghe every day.

It forges him into something else.

When Shen Yuan reawakens, not dead but Ascended, Liu Qingge stops his fruitless battles. 

Shen Jiu is with him. At some point the God had shed the title of Qingqiu as trees lose their autumn leaves. Still the God of Bitter Fall and Uneven Ground, of Unfair Advantages, but now also of Cunning Thought and Persistence. He hasn't changed, Liu Qingge realizes. He's just revealed more of who he is.

Shen Yuan is, as always, Shen Jiu's compliment: God of Bountiful Harvest and Smooth Travels, and of Cutting Words and Sloth.

Shen Yuan has, thoroughly, molded himself into the perfect God for his precious demonic pet. Luo Binghe will never want for a single thing ever again with the God of Easy Living walking by his side.

Liu Qingge wants to avoid them both. Everyone else is already aware, but from these two he wishes to hide his failures for just a little longer. However, the core of him is settled in such a way that he cannot find it in himself to pull away.

They want to see him.

It's no surprise that when Yue Qingyuan invites him to a banquet, Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan are there as well. As ever, Yue Qingyuan's bias shines through.

"What did you do?" Shen Jiu snarls from across the banquet hall.

"Who— oh Qingge!" Shen Yuan turns and catches sight of him as well.

Tension rises in Liu Qingge's body but—they've already seen. And if, somehow, they are too dense to understand, any one of their God siblings will explain it. Poorly. So Liu Qingge stays.

Shen Jiu is, of course disgusted. Shen Yuan intrigued.

"I thought once gods Ascend they do not change." He comments curiously.

"They don't." Shen Jiu hisses. "They can adapt perhaps. Split. Acquire or shed new epithets or old ones as we have. But they do not change. If they stop being what they are, then that God simply ceases to be."

"It's as it is." Liu Qingge shrugs. "I'm still a God—"

"Of cycles." Shen Jiu accuses.

"Reliability!" Shen Yuan insists. "Qingge is always dependable."

"It is no great thing if you can only depend on him to lose." Shen Jiu's dark gaze is calculating and Liu Qingge understands that, somehow, Shen Jiu knows the whole story already. That he simply needed to see Liu Qingge to fit the pieces together.

"He doesn't lose!" Shen Yuan defends, loyally. "Qingge has always been there when we needed him!"

Silence descends on the banquet hall like an awkward blanket.

"What, did—have I missed something?" Shen Yuan asks, glancing sharply around.

Yue Qingyuan, belatedly, ushers the rest of his guests out. Liu Qingge supposes he must be grateful that Luo Binghe isn't here to enjoy rubbing Liu Qingge's nose in it. Shen Jiu will, assuredly, have no problems doing it instead.

"It's exactly as Shen Jiu says." Liu Qingge starts. "Fighting Luo Binghe has irrevocably changed me." He says.

What he doesn't say: I cannot win against him now even if he deigned to throw the fight.

Perhaps, to Shen Yuan, the change isn't so dramatic. Shen Yuan had never wanted Liu Qingge to win that battle anyway, and Liu Qingge has ever been Shen Yuan's most reliable God-Brother.

Once upon a time, Liu Qingge was a War God. There were and still are many gods of war: strategy and prowess, blood and conquering, weapons and trade.

Liu Qingge was the breakthrough. The final push. The turning of tides. The culmination. He had never failed to turn a lost cause into victory, there had never been a battle lost to him if he meant to win it.

But then Shen Qingqiu became two, and then Luo Binghe built a shrine and Shen Yuan wasn't prepared for his tribulations and then—

Well.

Liu Qingge is a War God. Of Cycles, Shen Jiu says. Of Reliability, Shen Yuan insists. He is the God of forlorn hope, of having only one spear and one sword, of hunting phoenixes in mirrors. The same battle retread for the same reasons.

#kamaeteWRITES #svsss #i have so many thoughts for this au but i dont actually want to write it haha #lqg gets a major downgrade explicitly because sy wants lbh to win SO BADLY #sj is PISSED btw #lqg's new status does not affect sy AT ALL because sy is like 'oh lqg is never defeated uwu so of course he will win (unless it's v lbh)' #and the universe is like 'yeah sounds right' #so sy never sees an appreciable difference #SJ on the otherhand instantly recognizes the drawbacks of this #sj knows the moment lqg gets in a battle where someone needs him to lose badly enough that their prayer can impact the threads of reality #lqg will lose #since he's lost his 'i am literally the god of winning' halo #knowing this of course means sj (also as a god) (who can impact reality) is ACTIVELY making it worse!!!! because he cant stop worrying abou #lqg losing. #lqg is doing his best to NOT ACKNOWLEDGE ANYTHING #it's up to yqy and everyone else to stop him from getting into anymore echo-battles that will reinforce an untoward reputation #lqg Hate This more than anything #he wants to fight and win against lbh SO BADLY but the universe literally wont allow it now #lbh could let lqg push him off a cliff and the universe will conspire to also drop lqg to cushion lbh's fall #literally unless the GOD OF LIVING WELL (best revenge btw) stops backing lbh's ridiculous protagonist halo lqg cant win #that's the actual story btw! shen yuan actually realizing how broadly he impacted lqg's fate specifically #yeah he was going to die originally because The God of Winning can't lose which means he just Died instead #but now sy has to grapple with how affected lqg is with his new god domain #half the story would be sy realising that and the other half is sj trying to alternatively strangle lqg to try and get that to echo #that is sj wants to also become one of those people lqg is just destined to lose to #(will never happen—sj is too used to lqg winning against him. it's what sqq used to rely on #so that he never Fell like any of the other demons. lqg simply would Not Allow him to.) #and also putting in the work to get lqg's reputation as spotless shiny as it used to be so he can still basically function as their spear #anyways. like sure only having one spear and one horse is difficult #but if it's lqg's spear and horse there's nothing to worry about.

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Will; There's a Way (Book 1) Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Azure Messenger Appears

           It was a bustling weekday morning. (Y/N) had managed a few hours of sleep after staying late to finish reports. Now, she was headed back to the Agency for another day’s work.

            “Hello, everyone—” Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took in the scene before her.

            Dazai was dancing about on a table and trying to trap Atsushi in his bandages while the poor boy desperately tried to evade him. The brunette caught sight of her and gasped dramatically, his eyes wide and crazy. “It’s the princess!” Dazai cried excitedly “I shall save you from the rainbow pillbug!” From the way he tried to loop his bandages tightly around Atsushi, (Y/N) surmised the weretiger was the pillbug. And from the half-eaten mushroom on the desk next to them, she understood that Dazai had attempted suicide yet again. However, he had done so with the wrong type of mushroom.

            “Oh, ah, thank you?” said (Y/N), unsure of what to say in the situation.

            Dazai let Atsushi go, causing the poor boy to hit the desk, roll off it, and finally crash to the floor. Holding his cheeks and swaying dramatically, the brunette acted like he had been awarded a great gift. “My princess thanked me! Now I shall properly save you!” He jumped down and grabbed her. Picking her up with great strength, Dazai twirled her about while laughing. (Y/N)’s face was beet red from the close contact. In an effort not to fall out of his arms and hurt herself (and to stay close a little longer), she wound her arms around his neck to steady herself while he continued to dance about with her. “The princess is saved! My princess is with me safe and sound once again!” His laughter never ceased, nor did the loopy look in his eyes.

            The door of the Agency creaked open, revealing Kunikida.

           “Good morning,” he said before being accosted by Atsushi.

           “Kunikida!” Atsushi cried, “Please help us!”

           “What’s going on so early in the day?” Kunikida asked. He hadn’t seen Dazai’s lunacy yet.

           “J-just look at Dazai,” said Atsushi.

           Kunikida looked and saw Dazai in his crazed glory.

           “Ohoho!” cried Dazai, “The pillbug has escaped!” He gently placed a tomato-faced (Y/N) down. “No fear, princess! I shall defeat him!”

           “The what?” asked Kunikida, exasperated.

           “The rainbow pillbug!” Dazai cried.

           “I only see your idiot face!” said Kunikida.

           “I’ve finally arrived,” said Dazai, “in the afterlife!”

           “What’s going on?” The blonde in glasses wanted a proper explanation.

           (Y/N) explained, “There’s a half-eaten mushroom on his desk, so my guess is he ate that and got like this.”

           “Yeah…” confirmed Atushi, sweat-dropping, “There’s also an illustration of a mushroom like this one in the book about suicide. He thought he was taking a lethal one, but…”

           “I knew the Complete Guide to Suicide was a masterpiece! Who knew I just needed to eat the mushrooms growing in the nearby hills to have such an entertaining way out?!” cheered Dazai ecstatically.

           Atsushi tried to speak but was jumped by Dazai. “I’ve caught you again! You won’t harm my princess, rainbow pillbug!” announced Dazai as the weretiger tried to escape his grasp.

           “Kunikida, (Y/N)!” cried Atsushi.

           “I’m not getting in the middle of that,” said (Y/N), “Especially since he’s going to come down from this soon enough.”

           “I’m doing my customary paperwork after arriving at work,” said Kunikida, “Wait till I’m done.”

           (Y/N) sweat-dropped.

           As Kunikida began working on his computer, Dazai crept up on him and grabbed his cheeks. “Kunikida~!” sang the brunette, “You should come to the afterlife, too! It’s amazing!” Behind him, (Y/N) was freeing Atsushi from his semi-mummification. “There are rainbow pillbugs and princesses!” sang Dazai. “You can drink all you want! You can eat all you want! You can find a princess! Of course, you can’t have my princess—” At this, (Y/N) blushed while Dazai continued his rambling. “—but there are plenty of women for you—”

           Kunikida grabbed him and slammed him against the ground forcefully. “Shut up!” he yelled at the brunette.

           Before anything else happened, Kirako came in and spoke to the blonde. “Kunikida, the president has your case for the day.”

            Phew, thought (Y/N), Kirako has never had better timing.

l

            With Dazai finally back to relative sanity, the four detectives went out on their case. Their plan was to first meet with one of Kunikida’s informants, Rokuzou Taguchi.

            “Dazai. Quite dawdling. Walk faster,” said Kunikida as they walked, “We only have two minutes and fifteen seconds until the appointed time.”

            “Is it okay for me to come along?” asked Atsushi uncertainly.

            “This is technically part of your training,” assured (Y/N).

            “This case involves solving a series of disappearances in Yokohama,” explained Kunikida.

           “Visitors to Yokohama keep disappearing one after another, right?” said (Y/N).

           “We have an anonymous tip,” said Kunikida, “The victims have been abducted and imprisoned in a certain location.”

           “An anonymous tip…” mused Dazai, “How suspicious and wonderful.”

           “But we can’t ignore it,” said Kunikida.

           “So, we’re going to check the place out?” asked Atsushi.

           “No, we’re going to investigate the anonymous tip’s source first,” explained Kunikida.

           They descended into a warehouse basement. Computer equipment was set up around the room, blue light radiating from them. A tank with exotic fish rested on a table. A young boy, Rokuzou, stood in the middle of the circle of computers and watched them descend.

           “How goes it, informant?” Kunikida walked down ahead of the other three.

           “Hey, four-eyes,” said Rokuzou impudently, “Are you a slave to your notebook yet again?”

           “You think you can talk like that to a detective agency when you’re a cybercriminal?” said the blonde, “If you’re arrested, you deceased father will be most aggrieved.”

           “Don’t bring my father into this,” growled Rokuzou. Turning around and returning to his smug attitude, he continued, “Isn’t that unusual for you? Why? Were you on a date with a pretty lady?”

           (Y/N) sighed internally. Rokuzou was a good kid at heat, cybercriminal or not, but he did have a problem with authority. It could be exhausting to work with him at times because of it, but most of the time he just liked messing with Kunikida but would actually do the work in the end.

           “No,” Kunikida responded curtly to the boy’s comment, “Dates should only be with a chosen woman, followed by marriage six years later. That is what’s written in this notebook.”

           Dazai sighed behind him while (Y/N) shook her head while smiling amusedly.

           “Huh? You have someone you’ve decided to marry?” Atsushi was surprised.

           “I will in another four years,” said Kunikida.

           Rokuzou noticed the rookie Agency member. “Is he new?”

           Atsushi straightened. “I’m Atsushi Nakajima!”

           “I’m called Rokuzou Taguchi.” He smirked at Atsushi. “I’m an informant. For the right prince, I can dig up dirt on anything.”

           “Did you figure out who’s behind the anonymous tip?” Kunikida got straight to business.

           “The Azure Messenger,” said Rokuzou seriously.

           “What?” The blonde raised an eyebrow.

           The hacker continued, “There was data left on the server. And pics of the abduction victims, I guess. The mole’s not a bad guy, though, is he? He told you where they’re holed up and all.”

           “I wonder…” said Dazai, leaning on computer and smiling brightly, “I hope we don’t go there, only to find he’s one of the kidnappers.”

           “It would be unfortunate if we were being played,” said (Y/N).

           “The Azure Messenger…” Kunikida was deep in thought. “Keep looking into it.”

           “Sure, when I feel like it,” said Rokuzou, “I’m busy looking after my tropical fish.”

l

            Outside the warehouse, night had fallen. Before leaving, (Y/N) had helped feed the exotic fish. Now they all waited for Kunikida to finish speaking to someone on the phone.

            “Yeah. Thanks.” He put away his phone. “I called a cab. We’ll got to the abandoned hospital mentioned by the tipster now.”

            “Kunikida, why are you looking after the Rokuzou boy?” asked Dazai.

            His blonde partner turned to him. “What do you mean?”

            “It’s not like you to give a hacker jobs. You could’ve just talked to him over the phone, but you took the time to meet him face-to-face. His father’s deceased, isn’t he?” explained Dazai.

            The (H/C)-haired woman beside them nodded. “Yeah, and when we first met Atsushi, you talked about how you don’t go around helping orphans. There must be a reason you’re helping Rokuzou.” She had met the boy several times before but never gotten the full story of how and why he and Kunikida came into contact.

            “Are you trying to be his dad?” questioned Dazai.

            “We came here so that Atsushi could meet our informant. That’s all there is to it.” Kunikida avoided the question.

            “Sure, let’s leave it at that,” said Dazai, not pressing.

            The cab Kunikida called pulled up behind them after his words, and the Agency members all clambered in. Kunikida took the front seat beside the driver. Atsushi and Dazai sat by the windows in the backseat while (Y/N) was between them.

            As they drove to the hospital, Kunikida explained that their driver was another informant. Apparently, he used to be an actor, but his career never took off, meaning he found other employment.

            “That was the right decision,” said Kunikida, “He knows more about Yokohama than anyone I know. He also saw two of the eleven victims right before they were abducted.”

            They turned off the main road. As they wound down the path, it got darker and more mysterious. Clearly, people did not go to this area often. Trees and shrubbery were growing into the path.

            “I just happened to drive them from the port to a hotel,” said the driver.

            As they bumped down the road, Dazai and Atsushi clung to handles next to them. (Y/N) did not have anything so kept getting jostled. That is, until a hand reached across and helped stabilize her. It was Dazai’s. While his right hand was still holding the handle above his head, his left hand was across (Y/N)’s front. Her cheeks turned pink from the action, but she ignored her flustered feelings to instead try to focus in on the case. She couldn’t afford to get distracted by her affections for somebody who clearly wouldn’t return such trivial emotions.

            As she tuned in, Atsushi said, “Is this case really about abductions, though? There’ve been no requests for ransom.”

            Dazai look at the photos (Y/N) was holding of victims. “Are you sure these two were the ones you saw?” he asked the cabbie.

            “Yes, I’m sure,” the dark-haired man answered, “They’re even wearing the same clothes.”

            “I see. I have a hunch!” Dazai spoke with a cheery voice and had a smile, meaning he was about to tease someone present. Faking seriousness, the brunette said, “Look at these photos. They’re both wearing glasses! That means this is a serial glasses abduction case! It’s your time to shine, Kunikida!”

            (Y/N) deadpanned. Atsushi’s face was blank in the surprise of Dazai joking at a time like this (He still wasn’t used to Dazai’s personality).

            “Some of the victims don’t wear glasses. You can’t say it’s a pattern,” groaned Kunikida, crossing his arms across his chest.

            “Too bad,” sighed Dazai, “And here I thought it’d finally be your time to shine.”

            (Y/N) could almost see the vein in Kunikida’s forehead pop.

            “I can’t let that remark pass,” growled the irked blonde. Nearly jumping into the backseat, he grabbed Dazai and began to throttle him. Poor (Y/N) was nearly crushed as yet another person took up space in the backseat. “Are you trying to say my glasses are the only reason I’d ever be in the spotlight?!” demanded Kunikida.

            All the passengers were launched forward (Kunikida was thrown back to the front seat) as the driver abruptly braked. The cabbie announced they had arrived. An abandoned, eroding hospital was in front of them. (Y/N) was not looking forward to going in since it looked the setting of a horror movie where no one makes it out alive.

            “What a nice atmosphere,” remarked Dazai, “I think it might be haunted.”

            The four detectives entered and began exploring the building. It was even creepier inside.

            “I keep thinking something’s gonna jump out at us…” (Y/N) said.

            “I think it’s nice. It revs you up,” said Dazai, “But don’t worry, I’ll protect you from any ~ghosts~ that appear.”

            “I feel I should be more worried now,” said (Y/N), causing Dazai to pout.

            “You should be,” agreed Kunikida.

            “Ah, come on, Kunikida! We can defeat any ghosts or demons here!” declared Dazai.

            “You’d better not have eaten another weird mushroom,” grumbled the blonde, not wanting to deal with a hallucinating Dazai fighting supernatural entities. While he was talking tough, however, Kunikida was trailing behind them.

            “Oh, are you scared, Kunikida~?” teased Dazai, “Are you afraid of ghosts or something?”

            “I’m not afraid of ghosts!” said the blonde.

            “Then keep up,” said the brunette.

            “Fool! In this sort of movie, those who are careless and get ahead of themselves are the ones who die first,” muttered Kunikida.

            “This does seem like a horror movie setting,” acknowledged (Y/N).

            They all stopped as they found imprints in the dirt.

            “Look at these footprints. They’re still fresh,” said (Y/N), the others nodded.

            “Help!” A feminine voice echoed from somewhere deep in the hospital.

            “That voice…Did it come from the basement?” said Atsushi.

            They all rushed down the stairs and burst into the room where light emanated from under the door.

            “What’s this?” cried Kunikida, observing the scene in front of him.

            A woman dressed only in her undergarments was floating in a rapidly filling tank of water. She would drown if not freed. Pulling his gun, Kunikida acted quickly and shot the tank, breaking the glass. Soon enough, the poor woman was free. Dazai took off his jacket and placed it on her shoulders, so she could cover herself.

            “Thank you,” said the raven-haired lady, “You saved me. I’m Nobuko Sasaki. I’m a lecturer at a university in Tokyo.”

            “So, you’re victim number twelve?” asked Atsushi.

            “Did you see who abducted you?” said (Y/N) gently. She understood what it was like to be kidnapped and wonder what will become of you.

            “I’m sorry. I blacked out at the station. When I regained consciousness, I was drowning in the tank, as you just saw,” explained Sasaki.

            “Dazai, what’s your take on the situation?” asked Kunikida.

            “Sasaki’s looking super sexy,” Dazai replied simply. He wasn’t lying. He looked at Sasaki and though she was very attractive. However, Dazai was also trying to act natural after his recent realization of having feelings for (Y/N). No matter how much other people were attractive to him, (Y/N) was the epitome of beauty to him. He would much rather see her wearing his coat and half-naked.

            (Y/N), unfortunately, could not hear his thoughts so assumed he was attracted (even if just for her appearance) to Sasaki. She couldn’t blame him. Sasaki was beautiful. The pain of seeing the man she loved compliment another person still got to her though. She bit her lip and cast her eyes downward in frustration, jealousy, and sorrow. Swallowing hard, (Y/N) summoned her strength and tried to put the painful feelings aside (very unsuccessfully). Focusing on the case, (Y/N) found some things that were unanswered. Why was Sasaki the only girl reportedly abducted? Why was she separated from the others? Hopefully, they would be answered soon.

            “Be serious!” scolded Kunikida, embarrassed for the Agency that Dazai had said something like that so shamelessly.

            “Oh, right,” said Sasaki after her blush faded, “There should be others who were abducted here. I know I heard voices just as I began drowning in that tank.”

            “What?” said (Y/N) in alarm. If any of the other people were trapped like Sasaki was, they could die.

            The detectives split up quickly and barged into different rooms.

            “I found them!” called Atsushi from the end of the corridor, causing his coworkers to rush over.

            What they saw disgusted them. Multiple men, dressed only in undergarments and undershirts, were trapped inside of a sealed tank-like room.

            Banging on the glass, they pleaded for help.

            Kunikida ran up to them. “Are you all right?” he asked.

            Suddenly, gas began pouring in from a faucet in the ceiling.

            “It’s gas! Get back!” said Dazai seriously.

           Kunikida ignored him and began banging on the tank. “Hang in there!”

           (Y/N) ran up and grabbed Kunikida, pulling him back as he tried to escape her grasp and begged her to let him go since people shouldn’t die this way. She refused. She couldn’t let him die, too. Forcing him around and towards the door where Atsushi then began to drag him away, (Y/N) stumbled and fell from the force she had to use. Alarmed, Dazai’s eye widened and he quickly pulled her towards him. Unbeknownst to the detectives, as Dazai protectively held (Y/N) and got her out of there, a camera zoomed in and watched.

           The Agency members stumbled out of the building with Sasaki to where the cab was waiting. They felt slightly weak form exposure to the gas, but their sense of disappointment at not saving the abducted men weighed more heavily. Dazai still had his arm around (Y/N), pulling her towards him. It was a comfort to both him and her, but neither could dwell on it for long after seeing the victims’ deaths. Atsushi was panting from having to drag Kunikida out and had cast his eyes down in solemnity. Kunikida was extremely disappointed in himself and angry for not being allowed to try to save them, even if it was bound to kill him as well. The detectives were determined to find whoever did this.

l

            The next morning at the Agency, the detective had to read the new headlines for what happened the previous nights. It was not pleasant.

            “ ‘Victims of Yokohama’s serial abduction case were found but perished when a civilian detective agency conducted an independent raid,’ ” read Atsushi. A picture of Kunikida banging against the glass of the tank on the front of the newspaper.

            “Perished…” murmured (Y/N).

            “So, this was the enemy’s objective,” said Kunikida.

            “They’re trying to make us look bad? At the cost of human lives?” said (Y/N).

            “Maybe it wasn’t my time to shine, despite what Dazai said.” Kunikida was subdued.

            “Kunikida…” said Atsushi.

            Trying to regain his composure, Kunikida become businesslike. “Where’s Ms. Sasaki?”

            “She should be in the infirmary,” answered Atsushi.

            They walked into the infirmary where Sasaki was having a conversation with Dazai. (Y/N) bit her lip. Seeing Dazai amuse Sasaki made her heart clench painfully. The pair saw the detectives enter and looked up. Atsushi looked slightly put out as well since he knew of Dazai’s reputation with women.

            “Thank you so much for saving me the other day,” said Sasaki gratefully, her cheeks tinted pink, “If you hadn’t come when you did, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

            “Not at all.” (Y/N) forced herself to smile. Sasaki herself hadn’t done anything to her, so (Y/N) knew it would be unkind of her to lash out at the green-eyed woman.

            “Not to mention, you even let me stay at your residence last night,” continued Sasaki.

            Huh? thought (Y/N), cocking her head to the side in confusion.

            Puzzled, Atsushi asked, “Where did you stay?”

            “My place!” chirped Dazai.

            With those words, the pain in (Y/N) chest redoubled. He had let Sasaki stay in his home.

            “What?!” cried Kunikida and Atsushi.

            “I’m…deeply indebted Dazai,” said Sasaki, glancing at the brunette and blushing with a shy smile.

            Dazai smiled at they but inside was concerned that (Y/N) was so quiet. She usually was at least facially engaged and had a positive air around her. Seeing her look uncomfortable was disheartening. Dazai couldn’t tell her that he was keeping an eye on Sasaki since something was suspicious about her.

            “I-is that something detectives are allowed to do?” asked Atsushi, unsure of how ethical it was to house a witness.

l

            In the office, the detectives were working on the case again.

            “It seems Sasaki didn’t see who it was.” Dazai was relaying the information he had gotten from her. “She apparently faints a lot due to anemia. That’s why she fainted the day she was abducted, too. I don’t know how she was abducted afterward.”

            “So, she’s your type?” asked Kunikida. He still hadn’t gotten over Dazai housing Sasaki.

            (Y/N) winced at the implications behind that statement.

            “I like all types of people,” said Dazai. He said this nonchalantly but glanced at (Y/N) as he did, subconsciously associating her with the types of people he would date. Continuing, he said, “But what about you, Kunikida? Is she your type?”

            “She’s the victim the case and a witness. That’s all,” muttered the blonde defensively.

            “That’s Kunikida for you: all business,” said (Y/N).

            “Atsushi, want to read it?” Dazai held up Kunikida’s precious notebook of ideals. “His ideal woman~.”

            Kunikida blanched. “You bastard! When’d you swipe that?!”

            “Read? You mean it’s written down in here?” questioned Atsushi as he flipped through the book while (Y/N) looked over his shoulder.

            She knew the basics of what was in the notebook but had never actually read anything in it. She was awfully creative.

            “Kunikida’s notebook has a wide range of schedules, plans, and ideals recorded in it,” explained the bandaged man. “See, like here.” He pointed at a particular passage.

            “Th-this is too much…” said Atsushi.

            “It goes into a lot of detail…” (Y/N) trailed off awkwardly.

            “You got a problem with it?” Kunikida grabbed back is notebook and loomed over them.

            “No, I can sympathize with your vision of an ideal woman, but…” stuttered Atsushi nervously.

            “You probably shouldn’t share that vision with them,” said Dazai, “Poor (Y/N) here shouldn’t have had to read it.”

            “Forget about me,” said Kunikida irritably, “We’re talking about abductions right now. Have we picked up on everything?!”

            “Yeah, in this newspaper photo, you look pretty manly,” said Dazai.

            “Is that your way of indicating that you want me to punch you?” growled the blonde.

            Ignoring him, Dazai blithely continued, “What’s regrettable is this…You should’ve picked sexier eyeglass frames if you were going to end up in the news. They’re so plain.” He plucked the glasses off Kunikida’s face. “Only a naturally flamboyant person like me could pull off wearing them.” He placed the glasses on himself and posed. “What do you think, (Y/N), Atsushi?” The brunette had intended to only say the girl’s name but added the weretiger’s to seem natural.

            “Not bad,” complimented (Y/N) honestly. In reality, she thought he looked really hot in them. She would never voice those words, however.

            Atsushi nodded, agreeing with her.

            “They only scream ‘conman’ to me,” said Kunikida. He straightened suddenly. “Wait…”

            “What’s the matter?” asked (Y/N).

            Snatching back his glasses, Kunikida said, “Let’s go, all three of you. I know who’s behind this.”

l

            “Sorry for the short notice,” said Kunikida. They were once again inside his cabbie informant’s taxi. Instead of going anywhere, they were just parked by the warehouses at the port.

            “You said on the phone that you’d figured out who’s behind the serial murder case,” said the driver, “You’re on your way to arrest the killer?”

            “That’s right,” answered Kunikida.

            “Then let’s hurry. Where too?” asked the cabbie.

            “Here.” Kunikida got straight to the point. “This is where the abductions took place, and you are the kidnapper. You dosed your passengers with sleeping gas and abducted them after they fell unconscious. You wore a gas mask so you wouldn’t be affected.”

            “What were his reasons?” asked Atsushi.

            “I can think of one,” said Dazai, “Cargo.”

            “Cargo?” The weretiger didn’t understand.

            Understanding what Dazai meant, (Y/N) explained, “He’d sell them off. There’s a lot to be made on the black market for organs.”

            “The profit isn’t great,” commented the brunette, “but if you’re pulling it off alone, it’s a decent payout.”

            “That’s horrible,” said Atsushi.

            Clenching his teeth, the driver said, “Wait a minute, the city police would’ve found me already when tracing the victim’s last known locations.”

            “No, no one looked twice at this taxi,” said Kunikida. With that, he explained how the driver chose people of his height and build that he could impersonate, especially ones with hats or glasses. The police were inclined to believe what they saw on security feeds were the victims long past when they had actually been abducted.

           “Ms. Sasaki’s abduction was even easier, wasn’t it?” said Dazai, leaning forward as he continued Kunikida’s work at unraveling the driver’s plan, “After she collapsed at the train station, a good Samaritan paid for her cab ride. It’s faster to call a cab than call an ambulance at a train station.”

           “That’s all circumstantial evidence,” said the driver, becoming for desperate.

           “I suppose,” said Dazai, leaning back, “You’re right. What know, Kunikida?”

           “Are you being serious?” Kunikida raised an eyebrow at the cabbie.

           “Let’s make a deal,” said the guilty man.

           “A deal?” said Kunikida.

           “If you agree to my conditions, I’ll turn myself in,” said the driver. His became pleading. “Please protect me at the Armed Detective Agency! I need to be protected for seventy-two hours while the prosecution concludes their questioning and arrange witness protection!”

           “What’s this about? Why do you need protection?” asked (Y/N) incredulously.

           “I was put up to this!” admitted the driver.

           (Y/N)’s eyes widened. So, there’s a mastermind we need to catch, realized (Y/N).

           “I was assured by an organ smuggling organization that this was a great deal I’d never get caught for, and yet…,” he continued to explain what he had gotten involved in.

           “So, there’s a group behind all this? Where are they?!” interrogated Kunikida.

           “I don’t know,” admitted the cabbie, “I always meet them in the Harbor Central Building.”

           “So that’s the place,” said Kunikida.

           “And? Why do you need our protection?” asked Dazai.

           “Well…it appears one of the people I abducted was with the Port Mafia,” explained the driver.

           “Well, that’s not good—” said Dazai.

           He was interrupted by a storm of bullets from behind the car. The Agency members and the driver all reacted instantly by crouching down, avoid the bullets coming through the now-broken windows. Dazai was pulling (Y/N) down with him, trying to shield her even more from possible harm.

           “I don’t want to die!” cried the driver, bolting from the car.

           “Wait!” shouted Kunikida, jumping out after him.

           The other three followed him, using the door at the front as a shield from shots. Dazai was still keeping (Y/N) close to his side, making sure she was safe.

           “I can’t get a signal,” said Atsushi after trying to contact the Agency.

           “They must be jamming,” said Dazai, frowning.

           “If we lose the driver, the truth will never come to light,” said (Y/N), “I can try to pull away the guns with my ability. I just need to stand up and see them.”

           “No.” Dazai was stern. “The likelihood of you getting shot is too high.”

           “Yosano could heal me,” pointed out (Y/N).

           “If you died, she couldn’t, and with that many bullets, it’s a possibility.” Dazai almost growled at her, angry at her for trying to put herself into danger’s path.

           “Only a small one,” said (Y/N).

           “I said: no!” He almost yelled at her.

           Kunikida and Atsushi watched the exchange in shock. (Y/N)’s eyes were wide at the authoritative tone in his voice. A corner of her mind understood that Dazai probably used that exact voice as a Port Mafia executive. It definitely was surprising to her. He had never spoken to her that way before.

           “O-okay…I understand,” she stammered out quietly.

           Clearing his throat, Kunikida broke the heavy air and said, “Dazai, (Y/N), pursue the driver.” The blonde knew that would pacify his brunette partner’s concern for (Y/N). “Kid, you two get ahold of the police and request backup. I’ll distract them as a decoy.” He held up his notebook, indicating his plan.

           Dazai was satisfied since he would be with (Y/N) and be able to protect her better. He knew that their job meant injuries were inevitable, but he would do what he could to minimize her harm.

           “Roger,” they all said.

           “Let’s go,” said Kunikida, “Ability: Doppo Poet! Flash Bang!”

           The paper in his hand became a flash bomb which he sent flying towards the mafia men. It blinded them, allowing the detectives to move quickly. Dazai and (Y/N) ran after the driver.

           When she had him in her sights, (Y/N) said, “Ability: There’s a Will; There’s a Way!” She flicked her wrist back towards herself. The shirt the cabbie wore dragged him back to them where Dazai then pinned him down.

           “Give up. The police will take care of you,” said Dazai to the drive.

           The driver looked at the pair who had serious faces. They wouldn’t let him get away after aiding the murder of eleven people. He hung his head. He’d lost.

l

            They had handed the driver to the police and were now at the building where he conducted business with the organ selling organization.

            “So, this is the building the traffickers used for their deals,” said Atsushi, staring at the crumbling warehouse.

            They all walked in. It was empty with just pillars keeping up the structure. Bare wars stared back at the detectives as they explored. A crude office was on one side of the room, but it was empty now. The organization had already fled.

            “They’ve already flown the coop,” said Kunikida.

            “The wall’s scorched black. This is where the Azure King blew himself up,” remarked Dazai.

            “That’s right,” confirmed Kunikida.

            You mean, the one in the infamous Azure Flag terrorist incident?” asked Atsushi, “That Azure King?”

            (Y/N) nodded in a subdued manner. “He was a terrorist who destroyed many national and corporate facilities. Many people died because of his actions.”

            “From the time I heard the term ‘Azure Messenger,’ I’ve been if there were ties to the Azure King,” said Dazai.

            “I’d heard the Azure King blew himself up in the end,” said the weretiger, “I guess this was the place. He committed suicide after the police cornered him, right?”

            “That’s right. I had determined that this was his hideout and reported it to the police,” informed Kunikida.

            “You were the one who found the Azure King’s hideout?” asked Atsushi, impressed.

            “But on that day…” Kunikida had to pause from the memories rising to the surface. “The military, the public safety bureau, and the police were working together, so the chain of command was in total chaos. Only five detectives arrived at the hideout in a timely manner upon receiving the report. To add further insult to injury, the Azure King got wind of the police’s actions, so he holed himself up with a bomb. After a conflicting set of orders, a decision as made to raid. But ordinary policemen without special training or abilities didn’t stand a chance. Cornered, the Azure King blew himself up and perished along with the five detectives.”

            “I remember now, Kunikida,” said Dazai, “One of the detectives was that boy, Rokuzou’s, father, wasn’t he?”

            That makes it all make sense, thought (Y/N), Kunikida feels responsible for the boy having to live without a father so looks out for him. Kunikida may be strict and uptight, but his moral compass is strong.

“He was a good detective with a strong sense of justice,” said Kunikida, “I’m the one who reported the hideout’s location to the police.” The blonde’s back was turned to them so they couldn’t see his shame, guilt, and pain. “I may as well have set off the bomb myself.”

            “That’s not true!” said (Y/N). “You can’t blame yourself for the acts of a bomber!”

            Atsushi nodded emphatically, aggressively agreeing with the young woman.

            “That’s right, (Y/N),” said Dazai coolly, “Yet Kunikida can’t stop trying to look out for the Rokuzou boy in his deceased father’s stead.”

            Quiet descended on the group. Kunikida broke it by walking over to a computer nearby and flipping it open. Clearly, the discussion of what happened to those five detectives was over.

            “What is it?” asked Atsushi.

            “Another job for the Agency,” Kunikida responded, slightly uncertain since finding a job here was strange in itself.

            “That’s concerning. Who would know we would end up here and leave us a case?” wondered (Y/N), narrowing her eyes.

            “The client…is the Azure Messenger,” said the blonde.

            “I see,” said Dazai, casually leaning on a pillar.

           (Y/N) suspected he knew more than he let on. Or at least he had more theories and suspicious than he seemed to have.

“I’m starting to see who this Azure Messenger is. So? What’s the job?” asked Dazai.

           Reading from the computer from next to Kunikida, (Y/N) answered, “Disarm a bomb. If we don’t do so by sunset tomorrow, several hundred people will die…!”

           “A bomb capable of that can’t be easy,” said Kunikida, “The equipment here is for building a bomb. With this setup, you could build a very advanced bomb.”

           “But…” Atsushi was worried about the lives in danger.

           “Don’t worry. We won’t let the bomb go off,” said Kunikida, determined to succeed, “We’ll stop it for sure this time.”

           “After all, we’re the Armed Detective Agency,” said (Y/N), “We can’t be held down for long.” She smirked. It was high time they end this case and win against the Azure Messenger.

#there's a will; there's a way #bsd #bsd anime #bsd manga #dazai bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #kunikida #bsd kunikida #armed detective agency

[winterdeepelegy]

Prompt #8 - Shed

Driven by curiosity and tired of Sheol's nagging, Glace eventually went in search of the two Caern described by the chimera. He was guided not by exact maps or coordinates but by fleeting glimpses in some of the fever dreams bestowed upon him, and these led info the depths of the flagship in Azys Lla. He hated this place. He hated the memories which weren't his own and he hated what happened to some of his siblings here thanks to Garlemald. There was nothing good to find here, but if nothing else, there were still things which could be useful such as the myriad chimerae that still slept in their suspension chambers even after many others had broken out a long time ago. It was no surprise that the place smelled foul. It reeked of old death and ozone from perpetually running machines, and the corpses of both creatures and invaders who had made the mistake of breaking in in search of treasure. Though few and far between, there were still man-made monsters alive in here and they were hungry due to infrequent meals. Aside from spare fragments of imagery, Glace had no idea where to even begin. He came across recent leavings now and then but he wasn't about to invest his dignity on trying to determine what sort of chimera left it behind. It took several bells worth of searching to start finding clues in the form of scraps of scaled hide on the floor, still wet with blood. This was a smell where he could identify the beast it came from and its owner hadn't gone far judging by the intense, chaotic sound of metallic scraping just down the hall. Slow, soundless footfalls carried him closer and, there, in the next chamber was a large stag-like silhouette of a Caern rubbing its antlers against a support beam with all the deliberate urgency of one scratching an itch that never ceased. With every rub, more scraps of hide dislodged and rained to the floor while still more dangled from its brutal, sharpened rack like the remnants of a murder. And although Glace made no sound, the beast still stopped and turned to stare at him. Through him. Into his very core. "Command?" Its voice rolled through the chamber and off the metal walls like approaching thunder, and it lifted its head to take in the scent of the Elezen standing there. "We are Command," Glace answered with confidence in his voice even if he didn't feel it. "Sheol is with me." The third eye in the middle of the creature's forehead widened. "Sheol is carrion." Its maw opened to reveal jaws lined with sharp teeth, "Return Command to us." The lower jaw cracked and split apart again into a something resembling mandibles, allowing it to open in a way that the beast might have been able to devour Glace whole if he couldn't stop it. "Give us Command." Better do something quick, Sheol prodded at the back of Glace's mind. Remember, we are Command. So command him to do something. "Like what?" The question was a harsh whisper, almost as though Sheol were standing in the same room with him. Anything. I can't tell him, all I can do is issue a confirmation signal. "Great... uhm... play dead?" With intention... "Play dead!" The chimera tossed its head back with a roar and crumbled to the ground in dramatic fashion, its antlers sweeping from one side to the other to try and skewer any other living being nearby in a last ditch effort to drag them into Hell with it. A moment later it lay silent with its eyes rolled back in its head, mouth agape and tongue lolling onto the floor. Even its breathing had stopped. "Well shite," Glace breathed. "Alright, you clown, get up. The floor's no place for monsters like us." He hadn't even finished speaking when the Caern started moving again, clamoring back to its feet with its head held low in deference. "Command has returned to us. We are pleased."

#ffxivwrite2023 #ff14 #ffxiv #glace silencieuse

[oldmanmuffins]

Undead Girl Murder Farce

Medium recommend. It's not a must-watch, but if you're going to be watching at least 5 animes from this year then I'd strongly consider adding this in. Bonus points if you get saturated with the more standard show formulas.

What it is

Summer 2023 anime. It's twelve episodes covering three story arcs, with an ongoing story beyond that. Demographic-wise it's probably most appropriate to call it shonen (young male). To me though, it felt like it straddled a weird line between that and josei (adult female).

The show is part detective story and part action with a blend of japanese and european folk mythology and pop literature. Its hard to explain succinctly, but imagine a half-oni rakugo storyteller competing with Arsene Lupin and a sword-wielding insurance agent for control of a diamond that reveals the location of potentially the last werewolves. That's the vibe throughout.

What it is trying to do

I want to post the definition of "farce" and point at it grunting enthusiastically. It's extravagant, comedic, and improbable. The comedy is not constant, which letts the mystery and dramatic elements have room. Anime is already a pulpy medium, so that tames the absurdity a little, but even with that its an extravagant story.

The mystery elements are definitely there and given a lot of space. I'll admit that mystery isn't a genre I've ever really understood, but this matches up the formula as I understand it. We get almost all the clues needed to make a conclusion, then we get a bunch of fun misdirection, and then the detective orates their conclusions at the end.

How well does it succeed?

It's good but not great. It's my favorite of the season, but this was a weak season for me.

The production is solid while not calling attention to iself. The art is detailed, but a lot of the scenes are dark and use a muted color palette. The music really contributes to the mood but is mixed well into each scene. Few of the performances are very demanding, but it also sounds like a lot of the actors are having fun with their lines.

My big issues with the show are with tonal shifts and pacing of the third act. Around midway through the season we're shown our big antagonists and the tonal shift is jarring. We move really quickly from a jaunty caper about stealing a diamond to some folks showing up and just doing all the murder. This issue continues throughout the rest of the show. We go from having fun with our eccentric cast to brutal murders and the transition between the two never feels right.

The pacing of the third arc also felt rough. It almost feels like they started the arc, then realized they had one less episode than expected, and had to condense things down. The first episode of the third arc is paced pretty normally for the show. Then it speeds up pretty rapidly, with some events in the final episodes just feeling handwaved.

Unsorted likes and dislikes.

Likes:

* Equal opportunity sexiness. The character designs are part of what contributes to me thinking of this as a little josei.

* The Trent-Reznor-y "Tsugaru is about to kick ass" music theme.

* Aya and Tsugaru making bad jokes back and forth at one another and never ceasing to be amused by it.

* All the unexplained details. There's a lot of things that pop up that you can mentally explore to build up the story of these characters and the lore of the world.

Dislikes:

* The Royce (insurance) agents feel unexplored. They feel like a dice roll of a character trait + a weapon. Their character designs are interesting, but they feel like set pieces.

* More werewolves. I wanted more to the third arc in general, but definitely more of them.

#anime review #undead girl murder farce

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Teresa: Well, Lisa, if you've never been caught alone with a man, then explain this.

*She dramatically whips out Lisa's handkerchief.*

This was found in Rodolfo's room. Whose is it?

Chorus: YEAH WHOSE IS IT

Teresa: IT'S LISA'S!

Everyone: wait WHAT

Teresa: Now, perhaps Rodolfo could explain this—

Lisa: Rodolfo could you do me a solid and please explain this pleeeeeeeeeeease

Rodolfo: ...

Rodolfo: Wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy.

#I just got the image of Rodolfo saying ‘wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy’ and HAD to do something with it #opera #opera tag #La sonnambula #this Dramatic Reveal never ceases to be great #Bellini #Vincenzo Bellini #wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy #another installment of Bad Opera Humor TM

[mountain-man-cumeth]

What Went Wrong: An In-Depth Analysis of Muriel's Route

*Youtuber voice*

Below are the opinions of an uneducated individual on what could’ve left the majority of The Arcana audience dissatisfied. I will explore the plot, tropes, themes and morals of the Muriel route and try to explain what may have gone wrong. I will be treating the game as a novel since it's advertised as one.

1. Consistency. If you are unfamiliar with the chekhov's gun; it's a story writing principle that dictates each element you introduce should come into play (foreshadowing). Now let's start with a few story beats that were later abandoned or concluded in an underwhelming manner:

Muriel's blanket

Muriel's magic mark (on his back)

Forest spirit (spirits in general)

Lucio's upbringing

Circumstances of MC's death

Figurines/whittling/charms

Muriel's blanket is teased to be a tapestry, which would tie in with his later fascination with them later on, as it had been the only thing he had left from his past. MC neither sees nor comments on the blanket, we only know it exists thanks to other playthroughs and short stories.

Magic marks are an important point in the game. Every main route emphasises on how it affects the chosen LI. It's reveal is important in a way that it serves as a passage to a new act where the reader explores magic and Arcana pantheon as they are a monumental part of the overall worldbuilding. This exact point applies to the Heart of the Forest and how spirits interact with the world around them as well.

Whittling and Charm making are the only hobbies we get from Muriel's isolated life, their introduction helps the reader humanise the character by giving us a crumb of his everyday life. It's never mentioned again after the scene where MC asks him what he does. He doesn't idly whittle during their journey and charms only come to play in an offhanded reference during reversed ending.

The other two are also ignored but I will touch on Lucio later on.

Why do these matter? A few abandoned plot points don't make or break the story but on a grander level it hinders the audience investment. When we read, we like to think the details we notice will come to play eventually, we like recognizing references that were introduced earlier. I'm sure I don't need to give examples on this one, I don't think anyone will disagree.

2. Themes. Thematic influences this story utilized are all over the place, and it seems to me like it stems from the improper application of certain tropes;

The Hero's Journey

Home Sweet Home

Shell-Shocked Vet

Last of His Kind

etc.

Some of these tropes tackle themes such as;

Slavery

PTSD

Survivor's Guilt

Genocide

I'm not going to try to explain How to Write any of these topics. I'm not remotely qualified. I think it's better if I just give examples from popular media because whether you know how to write it or not, you can still understand when it's written well;

AtLA deals with genocide and survivor's guilt. It's in the name; The Last Airbender. Aang is the sole survivor of a culture he'd only had an opportunity to engage in for a handful of years. He left them with a childish tantrum and now they're gone forever. I can't think of another mainstream series that shows the gruesome reality of war and genocide better than this one.

When Muriel realizes his true heritage and loses Khamgalai is the point of the story where Luke sees his family's farm burned down, Aang goes back to the air temple, Treebeard walks in on the demolished part of the forest. (The inciting incident)

(Could also have been forest spirit’s death but it was too early in the story so I don’t consider it a missed opportunity.)

Up until this point the hero has their doubts, they're going through the motions but they are either underestimating the enemy or they're a passive protagonist. Either way, this is the point where the hero has to take the reins of the story. What purpose does this serve in Muriel's route instead? It simply validates Muriel's beliefs. He's useless, he isn't strong enough. We as the reader need a point to see where the hero takes a step to drive the story forward or whoever takes that step will steal the spotlight, it will be their story. As it is, this is the point where it ceases to be Muriel’s story.

PTSD got the worst end of the deal. Since Dragon Age fandom has a huge overlap with the Arcana I will use Fenris as an example; for those who are unfamiliar with the character, Fenris is an escaped slave. After the sex scene he vividly describes an experience that most people can easily identify as a flashback. The game never tells us that he was abused, it doesn’t show us him having a panic attack but it shows us that whatever transpired between him and the player character clearly triggered an unpleasant memory.

Arcana tries and initially succeeds to do something similar. We see that the character is untrustworthy, sensitive to touch, easily agitated, can’t sleep outside of his perceived safe environment… It introduces us the cause later on and the story has two options, each will drastically change the moral of the story:

Remember these as they will be important later on

Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing; You can’t fight violence with violence angle or the fact that the villain’s forcing him into a situation where he’ll have to fight again makes the villain all the more intimidating.

Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing; He has the means to defeat the villain and he just needs encouragement. With great power comes great responsibility. By not fighting he willingly condemns everyone to an awful fate and that he is selfish.

I’d like to take a second to explore the 1. Option, I feel like the game may have intended to implement that idea but failed because of the implementation of Morga and choices presented for the player character: Morga is an Old-Soldier, these characters are often push the hero out of their comfort zone in an aggressive way towards complacency, they are a narrative foil to the mentor. For the first option to work the story had to show Khamgalai acting as a mentor and having the protagonists challenge Morga’s teachings(see Ozai-Iroh). As it is, Morga’s actions are never put under scrutiny (narratively) and her death feels hollow as a result. She didn’t sacrifice herself for the heroes due to her guilt, she died because she felt a moment of sympathy for her son which wasn’t explored before, she showed no intention to change nor any doubt.

It is clear the game choose 2. Option, it is a controversial choice given Muriel’s mental condition and the game is acutely aware of this, which is likely why Muriel’s PTSD will get carefully scraped from the story from here on out. (I won’t address other instances where his trauma wasn’t taken into account, I feel like this explanation should cover them as well.)

3. Morals. Every story, whether the author intends it or not, has a moral. The Villain most often acts against that moral and in turn can change the hero's perspective. Morals are not ideals; the morality of Killmonger isn’t that marginalised people should fight for their rights, it is that vengeance is just. Whether it’s right or wrong can be debated but what makes an ideal the moral of the story is in the portrayal. How the narrator depicts the events, how people around the heroes react... all are a part of portrayal.

The story choosing “Muriel fighting is a good thing” earlier puts in the foundation of a moral. The story tells us Muriel has to fight, it’s the right thing to do. He has to be brave for the people he loves.

This choice affects how his past actions will be perceived; now, him escaping the arena to save himself is cowardly, abandoning Morga is cowardly.

The story tells us it wasn’t, but shows us that it was. This is the end of the midpoint of the story, at this point we need to have a good grasp on what we should perceive as wrong or right for us to feel invested. If we zig-zag between the morals we won’t know which actions we should root for. But more than that, the conclusion will not feel cathartic as it will inevitably demonstrate the opposing ideals clashing at its climax.

Villain doesn't necessarily have to be sympathetic and Muriel's route makes no effort to make him as such, but they need to be understandable. What danger does Lucio pose to the status quo, what makes him a compelling villain? Whether he conquers Vesuvia or not doesn’t drastically affect Muriel’s way of life, he’s been in hiding for years. He doesn’t threaten to steal MC’s body, Muriel is not compelled to pick up arms to save his beloved. He wants to protect the people from going through what he’s been through, right? That is what the story wants us to think. But what has he been through? Fighting was his choice, Lucio tricked him into it. Lucio later tricked Morga, his own mother, to save his own hide. This tells us that Lucio is a manipulator, but he doesn’t manipulate his way into Vesuvia, he barges in with deus ex machina monsters. He doesn’t demonstrate his skills as a tactician by making deals with neighbouring kingdoms to get their armies. We don’t know his strengths therefore we don’t know his weaknesses. If he seems to be losing he can just conjure a giant dragon to burn everything down, we just can’t know. That is why the application of deus ex machina is highly taboo, the victories don’t feel earned and defeats feel unfair.

4. Tone. Playing with the genre is not uncommon and a game such as Arcana has many opportunities to do so. It is a romance story, everything else is the back-drop. The tone works best when its overall consistent but tonal changes act as shock for the audience to keep them engaged and keeping one tone indefinitely gets us desensitized. We can’t feel constant misery if we are not made to feel tinges of hope in between. Good examples of dramatic tonal change (that I can think of): Mulan - arriving at the decimated village, La Vita e Bella - the father’s death, M*A*S*H - death of Hawkeye’s friend. Two of these examples are mostly comedy which is why this tonal shift affects us so, it was all fun and games until we are slapped in the face with the war going on. There are no one liners in those scenes, the story takes a moment to show appropriate respect to the dead, it gives its characters time to digest and come to terms with loss. Bad examples are the majority of Marvel movies.

In Muriel’s route there’s never such a thing, Muriel has a panic attack and MC kisses him. This unintentionally tells us, the genre being romance, that the panic attack only served to further MC’s advances. It tells us that he’s never had the control of his life and it’s yet again stripped from him by the decisions of player character. This is not the only instance this happens. The story shoe-horns in multiple cuddle sessions between important plot beats. And it does the exact opposite during a moment where he is having a heart-to-heart with the person he loves by having the ghost of Morga appear to give an ominous warning/advice.

When he runs off during masquerade it’s built up to be an important plot point. Muriel will finally face his past, he’s been running away from it all along, and he will have an opportunity to be accepted back in. MC is supportive but ultimately, it’s meant to be Muriel's moment. But as I mentioned above this is not his story anymore so he’s not given any time to address his problems, instead a ghost appears to tell him what he needs to do, again. Because we need to wrap the story up, we don’t have time.

Remember how I said the 2 Options will be important later on, well here we are at the very end. Upright and reversed.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a bad thing”

This suggests that the triumph of Muriel won’t be through violence. Maybe he will outsmart Lucio in a different way, he won’t play his games anymore. This option suggests that Lucio will not be beaten by his own terms.

“Portray Muriel fighting as a good thing”

This option concludes with Muriel finally overcoming his reservations on violence and doing what's right to save the people he loves. And bringing justice to people who Lucio hurt.

If you are wondering why the upright ending feels random, this is likely why. The ending plays out as if the story was building on the 1st option while we spent chapters upon chapters playing out the 2nd one. It is unearned.

(The reversed ending, being reversed, also uses Option 1 path but in which Muriel can’t achieve his narrative conclusion)

The Coliseum is filled with people who are on their side against Lucio’s shadow goons. Because we can’t have people being on Lucio’s side without addressing the duality of human nature, even though it’s an important part of Muriel’s story. The people who watched and enjoyed Lucio’s bloodsport are no more, they are all new and enlightened offscreen. We completely skipped the part where Vesuvia comes to terms with its own complacency and Muriel simply feels at ease because the crowd is cheering on him now. This is what happens when you give the character a chance to challenge those who have been complicit in his abuse (masquerade scene) and completely skip it to move the story along.

Muriel doesn't get justice, ever. The people only love him now because he's fighting for them instead of his own survival. Morga or her clan doesn't answer for the massacre of Kokhuri, Vesuvia doesn't answer for the sick entertainment they indulged in and Lucio doesn't answer for Muriel's enslavement. It is not even acknowledged, nowhere in the story (except the very end of reversed ending, and even then it almost gets him killed so its clearly the wrong thing to do on his part) is a choice presented where Muriel has an opportunity to get any sort of compensation where he instead chooses to move on.

I don’t intend to straw man anyone but this is a sentiment I’ve seen a lot; “It’s a short story, a dating-sim, what do you expect?”

I expect nothing, I’m simply explaining why some people feel how they feel. It is a short dating-sim but it seems to me like it was aiming to be something more by borrowing elements that were clearly far above their weight range to tease something more and under deliver. It is okay to feel content with the story, and it’s okay to feel let down. If we had a unanimous decision on literature we would never be inclined to write our own stories.

#personal #muriel #muriel spoilers #tw: PTSD #tw: trauma #tw: slavery #tw: genocide #karayan

[theluckiestlb]

✏️”Your dad is going to jail for a long time after all of this.”

“Oh, jail isn’t the worst thing to happen to him. Chloe went and reamed him out and I really wish I had some popcorn and the surveillance video of that.”

“Oh come on—again!?”

Adrien dramatically flopped back onto the couch as TV declared Marinette’s victory on repeat.

“Finally done?” Alya called from across the room as she lounged on the bed with a magazine in hand, “Give it up, already—you guys have been at it for like fifteen rounds. You’ll never beat the queen of Ultimate Mecha Strike III.”

“But great effort boys,” Marinette giggled, poking Adrien as he wallowed in self-pity. Nino tossed his controller aside, sighing in defeat.

“Alright, I fold.”

“What!?” Adrien rose from the dead, aghast at his friend’s betrayal, “Seriously?”

“Alya’s right—you gotta take the L, my dude,” Nino replied with a head shake, pulling out his phone to scroll through the missed notifications.

Pouting, Adrien leaned back and rested his head on Marinette’s lap. She gently ran her fingers through his golden hair in admiration. It was a true sight to behold—almost as if his features had been carved by the most gifted Renaissance sculptor. 

It was hard to dismiss the blossoming feelings of inadequacy in the presence of a literal model. Adrien never made her feel lesser in any capacity—though his affection for someone so average never ceased to confound her. The status of their…friendship...was even more mystifying. Neither had managed to address the matter since their identities were revealed. Despite their perpetual limbo, Adrien sought comfort from her and freely indulged in physical intimacy.

“Well, it looks like your dad is going to jail for a long time after this.”

Dead silence swept the room as Nino looked up from the press release. Everyone had actively avoided any mention of Gabriel since the arrest. It was an unspoken taboo—agreed upon to shield Adrien’s mental wellbeing. The invisible elephant had loomed over the group and seemingly doubled in size with each passing day.

“It’s not the worst thing that happened to him this month, ” Adrien said eventually, allowing everyone to collectively relax, “He had a run-in with Chloé a few days ago. Heard it was quite the spectacle.”

“Wait, really?” Marinette blinked down at him.

A grin stretched across Nino’s face, “Damn, I would pay good money to get a copy of that surveillance video.”

“You’ll have to keep it. He only meets the lawyers at night in random locations to avoid the paparazzi,” Adrien replied flatly.

“Actually—” Alya strolled over to the group, phone in hand, “It looks like someone caught the whole thing and uploaded it online.”

Adrien sat up while the others gawked in disbelief. Their expressions slowly morphed into glee as Alya connected her phone to the television. She scrolled through YouTube and tapped on the most clickbait-y video, Hawkmoth gets absolutely REAMED.

“Is that him? I think it’s him,” a voice whispers off camera as they shakily zoom in. One of two bodyguards holds a glass door open as Gabriel walks out with a disgruntled expression.

“Dude, are you sure?”

After an inaudible reply, the camera moves through a few vehicles to get closer.

“When will people stop filming vertically?” Nino quietly muttered in disapproval.

A black car suddenly pulls into view. The chauffeur quickly steps out to greet Gabriel, holding the rear passenger door open.

“Mr. Agreste!”

Gabriel stops and turns as Chloé marches towards him.

“Ms. Bourgeois. What a pleasure,” he replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Pleasure!? Are you serious!? How DARE you—” the remainder of Chloé’s sentence is drowned out by honking across the street. She invades Gabriel’s personal space uninterrupted, aggressively pointing a finger at his face. Disdain chips away at his composure, twisting his face into a scowl.

“The bodyguards aren’t stopping her,” Marinette observed with amusement.

“Well, Jacques and Henri were akumatized—I think he forgot though,” Adrien shrugged, “A little surprising, since most of the employees were.”

“Limited pool of options, I bet. Nobody with a single working brain cell would beg that psychopath for a job,” Nino added, crossing his arms.

“Sociopath is probably a more accurate descriptor,” Marinette speculated, eyes glued to the scene unfolding.

“There’s a difference?”

“The diagnosis is still up for debate.” Adrien interjected, subtly bringing the uncomfortable subject to a close.

“Didn’t Gabriel akumatize Jacques’ kids?” Alya piped in, eyeing the group, “One of them is in Ella and Etta’s class.”

“Sandboy?”

“No—no the other one.”

“Ah yes,” Nino grinned, folding his arms behind his head, “Rat Boy.”

“Rat King.” Adrien corrected with a smirk.

“Rat King?” Marinette and Alya asked in unison, exchanging looks.

“We fought him like six months ago,” Adrien clarified, glancing at Marinette, “Remember? Thousands of rats came out of the sewers that night.”

Alya smacked her forehead, “Christ—I remember that now. They crawled out of the drain in the middle of my shower,” she shivered in disgust, “God, why did Gabriel have to akumatize so many kids?”

People gather to watch as Chloé’s rant grows louder. Gabriel’s attempts to shut her down triggers a wave of rage. She starts shoving him, yelling even louder than before. Bystanders cheer as she repeatedly smacks him with her clutch.

“She’s really laying it on him.” Nino whistled.

A guy suddenly runs up from behind and dumps a bag of flour on Gabriel’s head. The scene erupts into a frenzy. Someone off camera starts pelting the car with eggs—one smacks Gabriel in the chest. 

“—you WORTHLESS excuse for a father!”

Chloé proceeds to kick him in the shin and he shouts a series of angry expletives. One bodyguard begrudgingly steps in and pulls her aside while the other roughly ushers Gabriel into the backseat. The rowdy crowd boos with disappointment as the vehicle promptly speeds out of sight. The video cuts off.

After a few beats of silence, Nino heartedly clapped. The others snickered at his shameless amusement.

“Well...that was...something.” Marinette conceded, leaning back onto the couch, “Actually, good for her.”

Nino slapped his knee, pointing at the rest with a serious look, “I’m buying her a fruit basket.”

(❣ visit my AO3 ❣)

#ask #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #drabbles #theluckiestlb writes #ask meme #anonymous

[cobaltusami]

I made a trope in a discord server and realized it could work for Ishimondo. Whether Taka is person A or B it could work perfectly

asjskngf angryboisaywhat--

Oh my gods yES! That is so perfect for them!

Hhh i can't resist--

Now I'm inspired... Ishimondo drabble below the cut :DD

EDIT AFTER WRITING: I mean't for this to be shorter but it ended up at 1098 words hehe... Oh well!

Taka wandered around the school looking for his boyfriend. eventually he strolled into the rec room and spotted him sitting In the corner of the room, pouting like a damn child.

He went to approach him but Makoto pulled him aside and warned him that he was really grumpy today, and that he had already tried to start a fight with each one of his friends in that room.

"Thank you for your concern, Makoto! But I know how to handle him!" Taka reassured with a bright smile, shrugging off his hand and approaching the sulking biker.

Mondo glanced up at his beaming boyfriend for a split second before going back to sketching something in his notepad... something Taka has encouraged him to do when he wasn't feeling very social. He found it calmed him down.

Typically he would sketch simple things like scenery, but sometimes he would sketch out projects he wanted to make when he got better at carpentry.

"Hello, Kyoudai!" Taka greeted cheerfully, sitting down on the floor next to him. "I heard you aren't In a great mood today, Do you want to talk about It?"

"No." He mumbled, his eyes never leaving the paper.

Taka glanced down at the paper just in time for Mondo to scribble out the drawing out of frustration and flip the sheet to a new one aggressively. (same Mondo same)

The hall monitor gently put his hand on Mondo's to stop him from drawing a new image. "Mondo, Why did you cross out that one? It looked good."

"No It didn't." He huffed, setting the pad and pen down. "It's fucking trash, just like all my other ones."

"Hey! don't say that!"

"It's fuckin' true. I just need to face the facts that I'll never be good enough to be a carpenter..."

Taka frowned, he hated seeing Mondo get in these moods. He might not show it all the time but he was actually really self conscious about carpentry and showing people his concepts and creations.

He racked his brain for the best response, and after a moment of silence, he knew just how to deal with his bad mood.

Taka snuck his arm around Mondo's waist, resting his hand on his side. "You know that's not true, Kyoudai. Whoever said those horrible things Is very wrong!"

Mondo didn't even sense the danger he was in. He just remained silent, brushing off Taka's attempts to make him feel better.

"Come on, Kyoudai... Where's that smile?" He cooed, squeezing his side.

The biker tensed, biting the inside of his cheek to fight the urge to smile and giggle like a dork. "You're not getting It." He pressed out from behind gritted teeth.

Taka took this as a challenge.

He also took note of the playful glimmer in Mondo's eyes when he said this, welcoming the challenge.

"Well," Taka stopped squeezing his side, smiling at the brief look of disappointment on Mondo's face. "Then I guess I might as well not ever try this,"

He poked at both of his bottom ribs at the same time, causing the bigger man to jerk in surprise.

"And I suppose this button would be useless too." He prodded at his stomach, drawing a sound similar to a whine in response.

"T-Taka! Knock It ohohohohoff! hehehehehe!" He broke out into a fit of giggles when the poking and prodding to his stomach increased rapidly.

"This Is probably useless too." Taka sighed dramatically as he slipped his fingers under the Bikers arms, wiggling them lightly.

Mondo squealed, falling over onto his side as his giggles picked up.

"Nahahaha! Tahahahahaka! Heheheheheheh!"

Taka smiled at the way Mondo practically laid still for him, silently welcoming the tickles. "Yes?" He hummed softly.

"Ihihihit tihihihickles!"

"Astute observation, My ticklish Kyoudai~" He cooed teasingly, continuing to lightly tickle his boyfriend.

This went on for a bit, until Mondo was gasping between giggles. Taka could tell he had enough so he ceased his teasing tickles.

Mondo laid there for a few minutes recovering, he was still giggling lightly as he caught his breath. He had a big grin plastered on his face still.

"Do you feel better now?" Taka asked gently, to which Mondo nodded.

"Yea... Thanks, babe." He said quietly, sitting up and wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Now that you're calm, what got you so upset in the first place?" Hiro spoke up, reminding the two that they weren't actually alone in the room.

"Yeah, It's not like you to just pick fights randomly anymore." Chihiro agreed.

Mondo sighed as his friends came over to join the two in the floor. "Ah, I was sketching some possible shit to build and Byakuya and Hifumi were making fun of it." He explained. "Hifumi kept comparing my drawings to his fuckin' manga, and Byakuya was insulting it."

"Well first off, Byakuya's full of shit anyway." Leon scoffed. "Hiro and I will deal with him."

"Yeah!"

Chihiro picked up the abandoned art pad and lightly dragged a graphite pencil across the clean piece of paper, revealing most of the picture Mondo crossed out.

"Mondo, From what I can see of it... This drawing is really good." Chihiro complimented. Hiro, Makoto, and Leon all looked over the small programmer's shoulder to look at it too.

"Yeah! It's a dresser right?" Makoto asked, Mondo nodded silently in response. "It's nice!"

Leon grinned. "Ooh, that would look really good In like, maybe a mahogany wood??"

"What's Mahogany?" Hiro asked, receiving an eyeroll from Leon.

"Mondo... When you feel comfortable with It, I would love for you to make me a new desk or something!" Chihiro smiled cheerfully.

"Ooh! or a guitar case!"

As his friends threw out suggestions and praised him, he couldn't help but smile and look over at Taka. He felt a lot better, he even got inspired by his friends for a few new projects and began jotting them down.

While he did, Taka looked at the dresser concept fondly. Something caught his eye in the vague details that were saved by Chihiro's pencil trick.

'M + T'

Their initials were engraved in the side of it, in a tiny heart shape. Mondo planned to make this for their house one day whenever they decided to move in together.

Taka couldn't help but smile lovingly at his dork of a boyfriend, who was none the wiser that he'd caught that detail.

Chihiro put a hand on Taka's shoulder, silently letting him know they saw it too. "You're really lucky." they said quietly to Taka.

"Yeah, I really am."

#Cobalt drabble #thh tickle #dr1 tickle #ishimondo tickle #Lee!Mondo #Ler!Taka #hhhhhh this was just too cute not to write #I headcanon that Mondo writes down projects he wants to build one day #should I make a drabble series?? #thoughts? #the idea of Leon and Hiro on their way to wreck Byakuyas shit amuses me lmao

[ateezinmymind]

Idol s/o doing a sexy concept

Ateez x reader

A/n: I’m so so so sorry I haven’t gotten to this yet anon I’ve been so busy 🥺thank you for requesting! You have my heart now<3

Hongjoong:

he was ASTONISHED

Truly,, he had no words when you started to perform

So many thoughts went through his head, he ended up shaking

His legs bounced up and down-nonstop until your stage ended

He couldn’t get the fact of how incredibly talented and beautiful you are

For the first several moments seeing you, he had a tint of jealousy

But that quickly faded when he remembered you telling him how excited you were to comeback

Whatever concept you chose to do, he was going to support

When he saw you after the stage the first thing you noticed was his gleaming smile

Greeting with hugs, you were quickly met with a pair of hungry eyes

“I wish you would’ve told me about this-“

*grabs ahold of your waist*

“You make me feel some type of way y/n”

Seonghwa:

He would be JEALOUSSSSSS

From the moment he saw your outfit, he knew what was about to happen

The short-shorts, mesh top and thigh high boots sent him over the edge

It was over for you before the performance even began

He didn’t look away once

Eyes glued to your frame

He couldn’t believe this,, you didn’t tell him you were going to have a sexy concept?!!

When he met you backstage afterwards,, you were immediately escorted to an empty hall

“How come you didn’t tell me about this huh?”

He needed to put you in your place (a/n: just dom hwa things)

“You like having your body on display for everyone, don’t you?”

You were contemplating whether doing a sexy concept was a good decision or bad

Considering how it made Seonghwa feel ;)

Yunho:

Your #1 hype man

Like seriously.. YUNHOE?? He couldn’t help but squeal when he saw you come out

You looked so good when you felt the rhythm

He’d sway to your song, just fascinated by your demeanor

The sexiness you brought, definitely did not go unnoticed by him

In all honesty his ears would already be red, but he’d start feeling hot

When your stage ended, watching you on the tv in a makeup room. He sprung straight up and gave a big applause

When you came in the room, glistening with the slightest bit of sweat he gulped

Then started dancing while walking towards you

“A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! Y/n you were amazing!!”

Then he’d be serious and grab your face in his hand

“You definitely nailed the sexy concept no doubt..”

Yeosang:

Shy boyyyyy sangie

Right when you came out in the revealing outfit he covered his flushed face

Still peeking through his fingers, he gulped watching your dance

The seductive movements, and lyrics made him not think straight

He couldn’t believe you were actually doing this

The confidence you held, definitely made him fall under your power even more

When the stage ended he let out a breath of air that he didn’t know was holding

You came in and he lost his voice

Giggling when you hugged him

“Sorry,, it’s just your performance”

Now it’s your turn to get shy and hide your face

“Wow, you never cease to amaze me y/n”

He can’t believe how quick you went from hot, sexy and confident to the cutest, shy baby

San:

Oh boyyyy...GETS TURNED ONNN

I think once the first body roll appeared he lost control

His mind goes straight to you, your body, your talented voice

Ohhhh your voiceeee

He loved it so,, it was truly beautiful

If you knew he was looking at you through the the camera, with hunger in his eyes,,,who knows what would happen

When your performance ended, San sits up and fixes his apparel

Opening the door to see him, you immediately freeze in the door frame

“Come in, and shut the door love,,”

Obeying, you walk towards him and abruptly brought down to his lap

“You did so well, now show me more..”

He just can’t control his body when it comes to you

Mingi:

He’d have stars in his eyes

Literally worshipped you

The outfit, the killer choreography, the lyrics, and of course yourself

There wasn’t a better combination

Watching you do the choreo on a chair, was literal paradise to him

The way you moved to the beat got Mingi thinking things

He quickly left the room to go find you after the performance ended

Running towards your frame he picks you up and presses you flush against him

“You are so beautiful baby”

Placing you down again, he leans in your ear while pressing himself on you again

He wanted you to know how he loved the stage

“And the chair act, probably one of my favorites..”

Wooyoung:

He’d most likely SCREAM

Would be drinking his bottle of water when the performance started

He’d swallow to quickly causing him to choke

Dramatic as ever he’d blame this on you later

The fact that you were going to take his position in sexy performer

He got to thinking about how powerful you two were going to be now.. ;)

Watching your hips sway, he thought that this was a competition

Waiting for you to come back to him he sat on the desk

Wooyoung thought if he should unbutton his shirt a little, just to make a point

(A/n: I can’t, my mindddd lmAoo)

“AHHHH Y/N WHY ARE YOU HOTTER THAN ME!”

Laughing at the first thing he screams, you grab ahold of his water bottle for a drink

“Later we’re definitely going to see who’ll take the most sexy performer spot..”

It’s then time for you to choke on the water

Jongho:

He’d go full critique mode

This making sure he wouldn’t miss anything you did, Jongho dedicated his attention for the purpose of improvement

Before your comeback, he’d been helping you try to be confident in terms of your vocals

But now the provocative words flowing out of your mouth with the most silky laced voice

Jongho got lost in the thought of your words, ‘take me higher, I want to fly’

He quickly started to get hot all over,, shifting in his chair uncomfortably

All the sudden getting really shy, and not necessarily thinking of your performance or your vocals itself now

But just watching your body,, and once it ended he wanted to erase his mind

Never would he want to make you uncomfortable with the thoughts he had

He’d be a little awkward for a bit afterwards

“Uhhh heh..you did great y-y/n,, I need to use the restroom”

#ateez #atiny edits #kpop x reader #ateez blurbs #ateez fic #ateez drabbles #seonghwa #hongjoong #jeong yunho #yeosang #choi san #song mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez suggestive #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez requests

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {18}

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Cursing, Lite Angst, Fluff,

Words: 5.2k

Note: Some super important and legit questions. Who guessed right? Poor Chris? Or I’ont feel sorry for that b**ch? Anyone still on the summoning Charles train?

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | Q16 | Q17 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Y/N-

He didn’t say one word to you at dinner. His eyes barely left his plate. If someone spoke to him, he answered in as few words as possible. Everyone knew he was in a pissy mood, but no one batted an eye to it. It was possible they were so used to his Gemini twin switch-ups that they just ignored them. You, on the other hand, were more in tuned to them than ever. You blamed the new parameters of your relationship. With the thought of that word, your fork froze on its way to your mouth. Relationship? There was no way it was a relationship. It was just sex—really great, incredible, toe curling, eye rolling, tongue biting, lose your voice, sex.

 “Would you like some more peas, Y/N?”

 “No, thank you. I’m full already.”

 You saw the look on Chris’s face. It looked as if he’d tasted the sourest lemon ever. It looked that way every time you spoke. The longer the silent treatment went on, the more you accepted that you’d struck a nerve with him on the beach. His small confession would be great and all if you could believe it. Your brain was split in two, and your heart refused to even enter the conversation. You listened to the conversations around you while you pushed the remainder of your food around your plate. It would be interesting to see how much longer this went on for.

 After dinner, everyone made it to the cinema room for another newly released on-demand movie. Scott and Zack were booed up in one of the corners while the other couples were doing similar things. Ms. Lisa sat with the kids, and Chris was by himself in the back. The safe bet was sitting with the kids and Ms. Lisa, but that’s not what you did. You squeezed past Chris and plopped down beside him. He didn’t look at you; he kept his eyes front and center.

 As you waited for the movie to begin, you munched on the popcorn and rose the footrest to get comfortable. Once it did begin, nothing changed. Chris was silent the whole way through. He didn’t laugh, didn’t move, and didn’t speak. He didn’t even look as if he was watching it. You even tried to get his attention by accidentally bumping him from time to time, moving around an excessive amount, and even offering him popcorn. Nothing worked.

 Once the movie finished, he got up and left without a word. You were ready to slap him with a book. You hated the cat and mouse game. You’d never played anything but the mouse and being the cat wasn’t where it was at for you. You didn’t chase any man. It wasn't who you were—not anymore. So, instead of going after him, you said your goodnights and went back to the guesthouse, ready to turn in for the night.

 After checking some emails and doing some drawing, you sipped a glass of wine while watching the moon in the sky. The goal was for the combination of the two to tire you out enough for your brain to quiet down so you could rest. After an hour, you were on your second bottle of wine and still watching the moon with no end in sight. You were still wired, and your brain was still running a mile a minute. Every minute or so, your eyes always drifted to the window that you now knew was Chris's. It was dark. You didn’t know if he was asleep or just not there.

 Your mind drifted back to earlier on the beach. He knew your patterns. When he read you with not even a slip, it threw you. Yeah, you’d hung out sometimes when you were with Scott or your group of friends, but you never thought he paid that close attention. It wasn’t easy to know your patterns. It was something that took careful studying. Scott knew them because he was around you a lot. Chris knowing them meant you were never his brother’s annoying friend, or that cute black girl he wouldn’t mind smashing to smithereens. It meant he cared, really cared and wanted more than sex all along.

 If that was true, then you were fucked. Lisa’s words echoed in your head.

“When it’s the one, Y/N, you’ll have no hesitations. You might fight it, but it won’t change anything.”

 No, you thought springing to your feet to pace around. There was no fucking way that was what it meant. No fucking way could he want more than sex with anyone, especially you. You had nothing in common. You didn’t know shit about each other but how your bodies worked together or whatever Scott shared between you two. Chris Evans was incapable of anything that went deeper than sex. That is just how he was built—it was what Hollywood turned him into.

 “No, you're not like the others. You’re different. This is different.”

 Your movements stopped, then fragments of conversations from the last few weeks played in your head.

 “Goddamn it, Y/N, you mean everything.” 

“You cripple me with how much I want.” 

“You’re all I want to see, Y/N.” 

“I see your heart, Y/N, I’ve always seen it no matter how hard you’ve tried to hide it, tried to pretend like you don’t have one.” 

“None of this has ever been about sex for me. I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more than that.” 

“You make me want things I can’t have.”  

“No one matters before you. You’re all I see; all I’ve ever seen.” 

“I trust you.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” 

“I’m scared of you.”

 “Oh, sweet baby Jesus,” you whispered.

 It was right in front of you. All you had to do was pull the curtain back to reveal it. With that knowledge, you didn’t dare touch the curtain. Not tonight. You grabbed the empty bottles and went back inside. After crawling into bed with your AirPods in, you listened to your sleep mix. Ninety percent of the time, it worked. You hoped because you’d had some alcohol, it would be the ticket you needed to drift off to dreamland.

 Five minutes passed; you were awake. Ten inched on, and you were staring into the ceiling with your thoughts still racing. You put on your meditation mix and tried to center yourself. Five minutes ticked by with you doing your breathing exercises, then ten with you adding your mantras. Once you’d reached twenty minutes, you gave up. You were now sitting back against the headboard staring out the window Chris had jumped through several hours before. You weren’t going to sleep tonight. The sleep gods were laughing at you while the gods of pleasure, desire, and yearning were mocking and playing with you.

 It had been so long you didn’t recognize it was yearning you were feeling. It had been years since you turned that emotion off and severed any possible way it could find its way back inside. Somehow here it was again. The last time you yearned for a man, you ended up with a ruined life, a shattered heart, and needing to move from Connecticut back to Boston at the drop of a hat in the middle of the night so he wouldn’t discover you. The thought of your past had you frozen still as if you were in a night terror unable to move.

 It felt like hours before you could move again, though it was just a few minutes. You’d thought you’d gotten past this. You’d never had a flare-up, ever. You quickly pulled your robe back on and tied it tightly before you slipped on your fuzzy slides and dug into the desk drawer. When you walked to the back of the property toward the woods, you followed the same path you had twice before. Though it was dark, you managed to avoid any missteps. You didn’t even know if he was there, but you had a gut feeling he was.

When you pushed open the gate that was overgrown by vines, you saw the lights on outside from your date and the light inside the house. As you crossed the lawn with your phone in one hand and the gift box in the other, you tried to think of the right thing to say. You could apologize, but apologies were tricky for you. It was something that took a lot for you even to attempt. You hadn’t apologized to any man since leaving Connecticut. Once you were in front of the door, you knocked and waited. You could hear Dodger barking up a storm inside. There was no way he was sleeping. Almost two minutes passed before the door opened to reveal a shirtless Chris. The look on his face was an inpatient one.

 “Sit Dodger!”

 The barking ceased as did the scratching paws on the wooden floor.

 “What’re you doing here? You should go back to the guesthouse.”

 “I want to be here,” you answered plain as day.

 He looked as if he were thinking of the right comeback for a few seconds before he sighed. “Why? The only way you come in here is if you’re finally going to talk to me.”

 You dropped your head and groaned. “Chris--.”

“Night,” he said before he closed the door, leaving you out there.

 “Son of a--,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. He was so fucking dramatic. You were supposed to be the dramatic one; you were the woman.

 “Chris, open the door.”

 No answer. You could hear dodger on the other side of the door whining.

 “Even Dodger wants me to come in. Open the door.”

 Still, he didn’t answer. “Chris, I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I’m not going to beg you to open the door!”

 He didn’t fall for it. You rested your forehead on the door and groaned.

 “You’re going to have to step outside your frost-covered castle sometime, honey.”

 Your mother’s words chose this moment to replay. She’d been periodically saying them to you ever since you moved back to Boston seven years ago. All these years, you hadn’t needed to. All these years you’d resided in your frost castle that was surrounded by your frosted shard protection wall. Anyone who managed to get close enough either hurt themselves or remained there stupidly continuing trying to break through. Only those you chose to come inside the frozen castle came in, and it was on your terms. None of them lasted—you made sure of it.

   “Keep pushing. You just might get what you say you want—to be alone forever.”

 You had pushed him. You’d been pushing this entire time. You’d pushed time and time again, and he wasn’t running. He was doing the opposite. He was pounding the ice shards attempting to break them.

 “Fuck!”

 “Fine—we’ll—we’ll talk,” you slowly said.

 The other side of the door was still quiet. Were you talking to yourself now? Had he walked away and actually left you standing outside? When your anger began to rise from all the possibilities, the door opened again. Chris stared at you for several long moments before he widened the door so you could walk inside. When you did, you dipped down to scratch behind Dodger’s ears.

 “Hey boy. Thanks for pleading my case.” He licked your cheek then scurried off.

 When you stood, Chris walked from the kitchen to the doors that led to the back deck. You placed the giftbox in your hand on the wall shelf by the door then walked to the deck to see Chris seated drinking a bottle of beer from the twelve-pack on the center of the table. You took a deep breath and sat on the table crossing your legs as children did in a play circle. Chris stared at your exposed legs, groaned, and looked up to you. The look he gave you said he knew what you were trying to do even before you actually tried to do it. Rolling your eyes, you got off the table and sat across him on the bench then grabbed a beer. After slapping the cap off the edge of the table, you guzzled some.

 Long minutes passed with neither of you speaking. You didn’t know what he wanted you to say.

 “When did you break things off?”

 You put the bottle to your head once again and sighed out when you placed it on the table to shuffle it between your hands.

 “Not long. That night you saw me on the phone by the pool.”

 “When he said you should take time to figure out what you want?”

 You nodded while keeping your eyes low.

 “Was it what you wanted?”

 “I was indifferent to it either way,” you confessed. When you said it, you felt like you should have felt like a horrible person, but you didn’t.

 “Did you have feelings for him?”

 You had to work overtime not to roll your eyes into the stratosphere. You hated being questioned.

 “Why does it matter? It’s done.”

 “It matters,” Chris dryly replied.

 With exasperation laced all through your voice, you countered. “Did you have feelings for any of the girls you were with?”

 Your eyes met, and he held your gaze as he emptied his first bottle and put it to the side. As he took another and slammed off the top, he spoke.

 “You’re doing it again.” His voice was mainly emotionless, but you picked up a hint of annoyance.

 Narrowing your eyes, you flared your nose. You hated being questioned, but you hated feeling backed into a corner even more. Why was it that he was the only one who could make you feel like this?

 “Is this what you wanted to talk about--my feelings and relationship with another man who I was also sleeping with?”

 Chris clenched his jaw and shook his head.

 “You’re pushing.” He said it so tediously that you wanted to reach over the table and smack him. You almost did. Instead, you got up and paced the deck for a few moments. When you stopped, you kept your back to him and tried to calm yourself down.

 “Charles was a good time,” you softly began. “He was fun. I never intend for anyone I’m with to be--serious. I make no plans, enter with no expectations. Whatever happens, happens—and I don’t develop feelings,” you explained through gritted teeth.

As you spoke the words, you admitted they sounded horrible. You sounded like some black widow that lured men in only to eat them and move on to the next.

 The crickets around you were deafening. Chris didn’t speak, and you wondered what he was thinking from your admittance. Would he be like a few before him and tease you about being heartless? Would he start making demands? Anything was possible with him because you realized you didn’t know him on this level. When you were sure five minutes of silence passed, you gathered up the guts to turn back to him. He was sitting on the bench, turned to you patiently watching you—waiting.

 “Let me in.”

 It was a soft plea. It was so soft it tugged at your heartstrings and gave you another unfamiliar feeling.

 “Just a little—please.” Chris held out his hand to you and sat there waiting. He looked as if he wasn’t in a hurry for you to decide.

 You stared at his outstretched hand but stayed where you were.

 “How?” It was a whisper. You doubted he heard it.

 “Take my hand,” Chris whispered. “Take my hand. That’s it. The first step is taking my hand.”

 Another few minutes passed with you still standing there and looking at him as if he were an alien asking you to get on his space ship.

 “I don’t—I don’t think I can,” you whispered, emotion clogging your throat.

 “Then we’ll stay like this until you think you can,” Chris softly answered.

 He was being so sweet and gentle that it was touching. He was showing you a different side to him, one that you’d never seen before, not in this light. After what could have been ten minutes, you slowly closed the space between you. When you stood before him, it took you longer to reach for him. Chris’s hand engulfed yours, but he didn’t move you, he just held it. It was you who sat before him on the bench.

 Chris pulled you closer to him with his hands gripping your thighs. Thankfully, the wood of the bench was varnished and treated, which meant no splinters in your ass. Once Chris was finished moving you, your body was crushed against his with your legs draped over his. He gazed into your eyes so deeply you wondered if he could see into the frozen recesses of your heart.

 “Why does he make you so angry?”

 The muscles in his jaw danced as he breathed out. You could see he was debating opening up to you. The storm in his eyes fluctuated from an intense sapphire blue to a dangerous navy.

 “Let me in, Chris. How do you expect me to do it if you won’t?”

 He scoffed. “Throwing my words back at me, huh.” You smirked and nodded. Chris pressed his forehead to yours and took a deep breath.

 “I do know him.”

 Your eyes bugged from his quiet confession. “What? What do you mean you know him? You said you didn’t,” you rushed out.

 “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to impact whatever you had going on with him.”

 You clenched your jaw and reigned in the anger that was threatening to boil over. “Talk.”

 “Earlier in my career when I’d just gotten to Hollywood, we became friends. I called him MD. We experienced the lifestyle together, we partied, met girls—got pretty wild.”

 You were speechless. You had no idea about any of this, neither did Scott. This meant he’d kept this from everyone. Why?

 “When I got with Jessica, we hung out a little bit but not anything wild like we used to. She didn’t like the partyer me, so to keep the peace, I let go of a lot of behaviors for her. When we broke up, I thought it was because of me, because I didn’t see myself settling down to do the serious thing that young in my career. I never questioned why she accepted it so easily I just thought she realized I was right, and the timing wasn’t right for either of us.”

 He paused, dropped his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked to be struggling, and part of you wanted to tell him he could stop, but the other part needed to know the truth once and for all. You waited but instinctively laced your fingers with his and held his hand. Chris stared at your hands for a few moments then looked at you before he cleared his throat.

 “We got back into the party lifestyle, and it was great once again. Things went back to normal with partying until the sun came up every night and one-night stands and flings. The party never stopped,” he explained before he paused and took a deep breath.

 “Then I met Minka, and once again, things got serious, and I cut back on the partying and the lifestyle. She liked him, and we hung out together a lot. Um—we broke up a few times but got back together for the long haul and were together for about two years.”

 It was then you saw the crack in his calm demeanor. His shoulders dropped, and the tight clench in his jaw looked painful. It took him several moments to speak again. When he did, his voice was softer. “

 “One night, I go over to her place out the blue, and she’s in the hot tub with MD, and they were—yeah.” Chris was quiet for the next twenty or so seconds before he quickly spoke again. “The crazy thing was she saw me first freaked out, said my name but he didn’t budge. I remember it clearly, he said fuck him, I fuck you better, I always have.”

 Your jaw dropped. Chris took a few moments to continue, but you could tell his emotions were all over the place right now. “I saw red, and we fought right there. It got really wild. I think I even remember holding his head under the water. I don’t know how I backed off, but I did and ended things told him to stay the fuck away from me and mine. We’d see each other around town from time to time, but we never spoke. I stayed out his way he stayed out of mine.”

 He exaggeratedly cleared his throat as he rubbed the back of his neck to bring his hands through his hair, giving it a mad scientist aesthetic. “

 A few months after that, I found out that the reason Jessica was so cool with ending things was because she was seeing him behind my back.”

 Your jaw couldn’t open any wider. All you could do was sit there stunned with wide eyes.

 “Yeah. So he’d been with both my girlfriends behind my back, and I don’t know I lost it and--.”

 “—Turned into that Chris, the one who didn’t trust or--.”

 “Allow anyone to catch me slipping up,” he filled in.

 It was all making sense. It was so insane that you hadn’t suspected before.

 “So you knew who he was at the New Years' party? You knew and let me leave with him?”

 Again, Chris dropped his head and heavily breathed out. “I didn’t want to interfere. It wasn’t my place, but believe me, I wanted to knock his ass into the next state when he approached you. Every fucking time I saw him with you, I just—I saw my exes all over again. They all chose him over me,” Chris quietly confessed.

 He was letting you in. This was him being vulnerable, leading by example.

 “They preferred him over me, then when you did too—It pissed me off. He pisses me off. You choosing him that night, and for the last few months—it hurt, Y/N.”

 You were speechless yet again. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

 “I didn’t know any of this, Chris. How could I have ever known your history?”

 “I know. I didn’t tell anyone. I never spoke about it. Scott doesn’t even know all of it.”

 You cupped his bearded cheek then hugged him. “I never chose him over you, Chris.”

 “Of course you did.” You could hear his scorn.

 You pulled back and looked at him and made sure he was going to understand the next words that came out of your mouth.

 “He was a stand-in, a pass time, a distraction.”

 “From what?”

 Your heart was racing, and all you could hear was the sound of it pounding in your ears. You dropped your head to his shoulder and tried to catch your breath.

 “I can’t breathe.”

 You couldn’t believe you were going to have a panic attack. This was yet another thing that you’d thought you’d gotten over.

 “Breathe, Y/N, come on. Try to slow your breaths; take slow deep ones. Follow me.”

 Chris demonstrated how he wanted you to breathe, but you struggled to mirror him.

 He turned you so your legs were on the floor, then he sank before you to push your head between your legs.

 “Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Calm down. Slow deep breathes. Let my voice calm you. In—out—in—out. Bring in the calm energy, release the panic. Bring in the calm energy, release the panic.”

 Feeling your windpipe closing and your pores shrinking, you nearly went into severe panic mode. You tried to focus on his voice and following the instructions and the techniques you’d learned long ago, but it seemed nothing wanted to work. Chris repeated the process several more times and dreadfully slowly, but surely your breathing returned to normal, and your panic faded.

 “There you go. You got it. You’re doing great, Y/N.”

 When you looked up at him, you could see his worry. “I’m—okay.”

 He handed you a beer, and you gulped it all down, not lowering the bottle once. When you did, you took a few deep breaths.

 “Wow, I thought I’d gotten over those. I haven’t had one in six or so years.”

 “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” Chris expressed. You sat there in awe and lunged for him throwing your arms around his neck.

 “I didn’t know about Charles. He never told me he knew you.”

 “He wouldn’t. I’m convinced he went after you not only because you’re gorgeous but because of your connection to me. He must have thought something was going on between us.”

 You gasped, then quickly pulled back and gaped at him. “Did you promise him that you’d stay away from me?”

 The look on his face said it all. He had.

 “Chris,” you began.

 “I guess when he heard you’d be here quarantining with me, he called me and said he really wanted to make things work with you and said that he knew we had bad blood, but he swore it was water under the bridge because we were both young and dumb. He said he was falling in love with you and wanted my word I wouldn’t try to get revenge for what he did to me. He asked me to stay away from you.”

 Hearing the whole story conflicting emotions filled you. On one side, you were shocked that Charles had had the nerve to do something like that, especially after what he’d done to him in the past. You were also fuming that these two men took it upon themselves to make a plan about you without you. They thought they could take control of your life like you had no say.

 “Don’t blow up,” Chris said before you sprang to your feet.

 “Oh, you know I’m gonna blow up. What the fuck, Chris! I can’t believe you made a promise like that.”

 “I know. I don’t know why I did it. You looked happy with him.”

 “If you hadn’t gotten that call, would you have tried to get your revenge? Is that what this was? Did you sleep with me as a way to get back at him?”

 “What! No. that’s insane. I’d never do something like that to you. I’d never use you like that. Me sleeping with you had nothing to do with him and everything about how I feel about you!”

 “I don’t know what to believe anymore!” You sat back on your side of the table and planted your forehead into your perched hands.

 Chris sat in front of you again and reached for you. “Don’t touch me.”

 “Y/N listen to me. You have to believe me. I made that promise, yes, and I intended to keep it, but over these last weeks, something has changed. He’s just an infuriating reminder of everything and my insecurities, insecurities that I thought I’d buried. I didn’t sleep with you for any devious reasons.”

 They were pretty words.

 “Look into my eyes,” Chris suggested. When you did, you saw him as clear as crystal. He was telling the truth.

 “This is a lot, Chris.”

 “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 Your phone vibrated on the table, and both your eyes went to it. Charles’s ID and face ran across the screen. Without thinking about it, you answered the phone on speaker.

 “Hello?”

 “Hey baby. I’ve been trying to get you for a few days. I miss you.”

 Chris shifted uncomfortably and moved as if he planned on getting up. You felt something flick off inside of you. You put your hand over Chris’s and looked into his eyes as you spoke.

 “I don’t miss you, Charles.”

 “Wha—what?”

 “You heard me. I don’t think I’ve ever really missed you. I’m honestly not into you—not really. You were right; we do need time apart. A lot of time, matter of fact, I think you should delete my number.”

 “Wait, wait, Y/N, what’s going on? What happened?” The panic in his voice was high. He was freaking out.

 “I slept with Chris, and it was incredible.”

 Three seconds of silence passed. Both you and Chris never took your eyes off of each other.

 “What!”

 His rage could not be missed. “That son of a bitch!”

 “You’re the bitch Charles. Look at this as karma. What goes around comes around, and it looks like you just got a heaping pile of it for being a piece of shit. Don’t call me anymore. I want to leave you with one important piece of information. He fucked me better than you ever did.”

 With that, you hung up and went to his contact to block and delete it.

 “Wow,” Chris began.

 “Hang on.” You went into your pictures and scrolled through to his folder and deleted it.

 “What was that?”

 “You don’t wanna know,” you said as you slid your phone away. “Done. It’s over with. He’s gone. I promise I’m not choosing him. I never was going to choose him.”

 Chris stared at you for a few moments before he walked around to you to take your hand. “Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

 You allowed him to lead you inside and to the bedroom. Once inside, Chris peeled off his linen pajama pants and sat at the edge of the bed, reaching for you. When you stepped between his legs, he pulled the tie of your robe while staring in your eyes. When he pushed it off your shoulders, you stood naked in front of him. He didn’t look at your body, though. Chris led you into the bed and pulled the blankets over your bodies and pulled you into his massive arms. You could feel his heart steadily thumping against your back, and soon your heartbeat matched his.

 “Slow and steady?”

 You remained quiet for a little while before you turned to lay on your back. Chris rolled onto you and hovered over your body. Slowly he caressed your cheek.

 “Slow and steady,” you whispered back. When he kissed you, it was soft and slow. He never pushed for more, even though you could feel his hardening length. You just laid there and sensually made out. You’d been kissed tens of times before, and this was not a first.  It was a first that you felt something more than physical. It was something almost like what you’d felt a long time ago, but it was very different.

 You trailed your hands down his back to graze across his ass. Chris moaned and thrusted forward before he rolled off of you. “I just want to hold you. Nothing else, just—intimacy,” he whispered as he settled behind you and held you so close no one would be able to tell where he began, and you ended.

 “Chris,” you began.

 “Let me be the man you deserve,” Chris finished. The words were like a ton of bricks, but they didn’t painfully crash onto you. They crashed onto you in a way that made you want to say words you had no idea how even to formulate.

 “Fuck,” you whispered.

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

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#quarantine: a love story fic #q18 #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #slow burn #chris evans smut

[nierly-amazing]

NieR: Theatrical Orchestra 12020--Automata dramatic reading transcript

Alt title: THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO FUCKING MUCH IT HURTS

Art and transcript provided by @shirl_geem on twitter! Follow her, her art’s great!

NieR:Theatrical Orchestra 12020

NieR:Automata

Investigative Operation Overview

New machine-lifeform signatures detected in a previously neutralized enemy base. Said base is a large-scale facility located in the Pacific Ocean.

Communication from the squad stationed there was ceased, making the situation impossible to ascertain. Satellite photography is also impossible due to the base's location on the sea floor.

The Council of Humanity is making preparations to retake the base, but understands it may be a trap created with a new type of enemy weapon.

For this reason, the Council of Humanity has decided to send a small team as an advance scout force.

The task of investigating the base and ascertaining the safety of its personnel has been assigned to YoRHa units 2B and 9S.

--Operation Name: Uranus

Advance Force Registered:

YoRHa units 2B and 9S

Specifications:

Modified flight units (underwater-use)

Close-combat assault armor

Type-3 swords, pressure-resistant suits, anti-icing coating

12 modified canaries, salvageable backup memory storage, reactive barriers

--Escort Unit Details:

Lead escort duties to be carried out by Hunter units K1 and K2

K1 unit overview: 8 flight units, 1 transport unit

K2 unit overview: 4 flight units, 1 Hummingbird aircraft carrier

Defensive radius: From 8,000 meters above the objective to the ocean's surface.

--Status of the Target Area:

Depth: 1,200 meters

Water temperature: 3 degrees centigrade

Machine lifeform energy: 3,200 units

Estimated machine lifeform count: 32 individuals

Communication status: Unknown

--Supplementary Information:

Target is 32 km north of the hostile submerged facility that was destroyed on August 13th. According to the deep-sea patrol unit, there is no relation between that facility and the target.

However, as there remains the possibility of attack by escaped machine lifeforms or rogue androids, all information pertaining to Operation Atlantis is to be disclosed beforehand.

Time to Arrival at Objective: *10 second timer appears on the screen*

This operation has been placed under direct control of the Council of Humanity. Any recording or other archival action is strictly forbidden.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

2B: So this is the machine lifeforms' advance base...

9S (narrating): The base we infiltrated was an expansive underground space with countless, intertwining support pillars.

2B: Temperatures are low... Pod, scan the periphery.

Pod 042: No machine lifeforms detected. No signals found on sensors or canary system.

2B: Is that... a dead android? Pod!

Pod 042: Affiliation unknown. Possibly a member of the unit stationed here. Fusion reactor non-functional. Heat analysis indicates it was destroyed more than 48 hours ago. No external wounding detected.

2B: No external wounding? Could it have been an EMP blast?

Pod 042: Negative. No characteristics of EMP damage detected in circuits.

9S (narrating): As we looked around, we found more androids strewn across the room like a child's forgotten toys.

2B: What on earth happened here...?

9S (narrating): The machine lifeforms that supposedly destroyed these units were nowhere to be found. All that remained was a chill, an eerie silence, and an android mass grave.

2B: Access the Bunker database.

Pod 042: Negative. Bunker communication is not possible.

2B: Keep scanning the periphery and let me know if you find any irregularities.

Pod 042: Affirmative.

9S (narrating): It was a gloomy place, untouched by the sun. The ceiling was a mass of cables tangled around interlocking steel. It was like being inside some kind of massive creature...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Record Archivist: Pod 153

Analysis: Stationed friendly squad consisted of 36 individuals. Only eight individuals were confirmed in the target area.

Hypotheses for the other 28 individuals: Abduction. Predation. Desertion. Rebellion.

Proposal: Commence preparations for close combat.

Record Archivist: Pod 153

Analysis: Target base consists of four strata

Current location: First stratum

Area: 32,000 square meters

Temperature: 2 degrees centigrade

Humidity: 88%

Scans indicate a high probability that this area is a hangar for machine lifeforms.

Record Archivist: Pod 153

Alert: Examination of target's first stratum complete. Cause of androids' cease in function remains unclear. There is a high probability that neglecting to investigate this factor may cause impediments to the main force that follows us.

Proposal: Investigate the target's second stratum.

Alert: Target's second stratum reached.

Alert: Android bodily fluids detected on nearby wall. The residual shape appears to form sequences of letters.

Hypothesis: They are warning messages left by androids while still alive.

Analysis: The messages are as follows:

"The Bunker will fall"

"Destroy Command"

"Run"

"They must be killed"

"Help" "Help" "Help"

"Help"

Hypothesis: Thought circuitry of corresponding androids underwent some manner of attack.

Analysis: There exists a weapon in the base that can cause a logic infection.

Proposal: Hack the central cortex of the base.

Alert: Enemy thought center reached.

Analysis: Protection of YoRHa unit 9S is top priority.

Alert: Deploying virtual canary.

Proposal: Encrypt channels to long-term memory areas.

Proposal: Increase speed of thought-analysis region.

Alert: Central memory space located. 82 hostile defense layers and 1,343 attack-type security systems detected.

Alert: Virus employed by enemy defense layers. Executing sustained vaccine deployment.

Commencing Assault

Analysis: Defensive layers of central memory space infiltrated.

Data recovery and decoding complete.

Initializing visualization and extraction of records.

Visualization: 20%

Visualization: 40%

Visualization: 80%

Visualization complete.

Extracting...

Stratagem Information 111029E

Analysis of intercepted communications from the human army over a period of time has yielded the following data:

The majority of cargo bound for the human server on the moon consists of empty containers camouflaged as supplies.

Specific sequence patterns have been identified in video communications from the Council of Humanity.

Stratagem Information 111029E

Multiple models of supposition have been created based on the results of the above analysis.

Of these, the most probably conclusions are as follows:

The existence of the Council of Humanity is a pretense.

Humans are already extinct.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

9S: The Council of Humanity on the moon... So mankind... doesn't exist? No, this is a trap. The enemy is trying to make us second-guess ourselves. Pod, use laser measuring to reveal the structure of the enemy base.

Pod 153: Affirmative.

9S: 2B, I think there's a good chance this base is some kind of tra... 2B? Huh? Where'd she go?

Pod 153: Analysis complete. Displaying base structure.

9S: First we should figure out where 2B... Wait, this base is weird. There's one massive core at the center with a network of pathways for energy conveyance. It's almost like it's one big machine lifeform...

Pod 153: Alert: High-frequency vibrations detected in lower levels.

9S: High fre-- Agh!

2B (narrating): As 9S's vision fades out, a mysterious sound grows around him. crunch... Crunch... CRUNCH... The sound gets louder every time.

9S turns toward the sound to see an android's corpse.

A dark shadow sits atop it, its hands clamped around the android's thin, white neck.

9S: No...

2B (narrating): The shadow is 9S, and the corpse he's strangling-- with its slender fingers, black eye covering, all-too-familiar dress, and white hair-- is none other than...

9S: 2B...

2B (narrating): The sight playing out before 9S was one of his own twisted desires.

9S's deepest desires are laid bare. He wanted to kill her. Destroy her. Mutilate her.

9S: No! That's not true! I don't want that at all! Wait, I get it... It's the infection. This is what the enemy's infection does.

2B (narrating): Using thoughts of denial as an opening, the curse spreads. He knew. He was aware she was trying to kill him. He concealed. He hid away his intimate, innermost desires. And there, in the never-ending spiral of massacre... filled with false hopes and prayers... was the pleasure of despair.

9S (screams and cries): Please stop... 2B, I... I...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Record Archivist: Pod 153 Alert: Vital signs declining for YoRHa unit 9S.

Alert: Reverse-hacking by enemy machine lifeform detected.

Alert: Defect detected in memory area.

Alert: Shifting to consciousness-protection mode.

Analysis: Increase in offensive enemy activity confirmed.

Analysis: Maintaining consciousness-defense form is impossible.

Due to the instability of YoRHa unit 9S's consciousness, executing the recommended counterattack is impossible.

Report: The decisions that follow constitute unauthorized support.

Declaration: Commencing rescue of YoRHa unit 9S.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"January 30, 11,942 (4:25 AM) YoRHa unit 9S enters service.

Analysis: This pod initiated recording of pre-determined monitoring subjects 9S and 2B.

Analysis: In the midst of collecting great volumes of data, this Pod ascertained that 9S is repeatedly destroyed by 2B.

Analysis: These acts were not delineated in any Project YoRHa implementation plans this Pod was informed of.

Analysis: Intervention in above acts is impossible for this Pod, as they are delineated processes for the core program of Project YoRHa.

However, this unit, in its continued recording of the activities of YoRHa unit 9S through a repeated cycle of combat and death, ultimately gained a sort of knowledge.

It is an internal command akin to emotion, far beyond any support assignment. The closest human analog would be the feeling called "maternity."

As such, reporting unit Pod 153 will abandon self-defense protocols and shift to launching an offensive against the enemy.

...I am glad to have met you, YoRHa unit 9S.

Farewell."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

9S: Ugh... Okay... I set the trap in the central system, and the camouflage repair on the enemy barrier is complete.

Pod 153 (narrating): The remains of Pod 153-- its circuits thoroughly fried- lie at his feet.

9S: My pod... saved me, huh?

Pod 153 (narrating): 9S hears a sound. He looks up to see 2B standing before him with a calm expression.

9S: Oh, 2B! Glad you're safe. I was just putting a logic virus in the enemy's central--

Pod 153 (narrating): 9S realizes something.

2B: Say, 9S...

Pod 153 (narrating): Her eye covering is gone.

2B: It's cold here, so...

Pod 153 (narrating): She holds a weapon in her hand.

2B: I want you to warm me.

Pod 153 (narrating): And her eyes... are crimson.

9S: She's infected!?

Pod 153 (narrating): Her white blade crashes down on 9S with the swiftness of lightning. 9S blocks the blow with his scabbard.

9S: Damn it! How could this happen?

2B: YoRHa's existence in this world has no meaning.

9S: Requesting access to 2B's motor system! Administer emergency vaccine!

Pod 153 (narrating): His request is denied. 2B swings her sword again, continuing her frenzied dance.

2B: We must stop the tragedy that recurs without end in this meaningless world.

9S: 2B, stop!

2B: Tell me, 9S...

Pod 153 (narrating): With the smallest of openings, 2B's blade finds its mark.

2B: Wouldn't it be wonderful to fade away together?

Pod 153 (narrating): The blade cuts into 9S's armor. A bright red message appears in 9S's vision:

Proposal: Destroy YoRHa unit 2B.

9S: I could never do that!

Pod 153 (narrating): 2B's sword swiftly pierces through the left side of 9S's chest. 2B's blood-red eyes draw close to his face. With defeat so close, 9S plays his final gambit... He places his right hand on 2B's cheek.

9S: ...Commencing hack.

Analysis: Commencing salvage of 2B's consciousness data from the infected area.

"The memories I have left aren't all bad. Wind rolling through ruins. Light flickering on water. The sound of swaying trees. I cherish everything we saw together. This isn't a curse. I... decided to be with her. I made a choice."

2B's infection had spread to the deepest portions of her memory unit. It's a troublesome virus-- and an elegant trap.

For if the infected section is removed, the individual becomes unable to maintain a consciousness.

As 2B's consciousness grows more infected, 9S readies his final, desperate plan.

...It was the only way she could be saved.

9S: Hey, 2B? The time we spent together holds eternal value for me. Heh. I'm serious, you know. I'm swapping your infected area with my memory storage.

"In a sea of collapsing emotions, I saw 2B's light. Even if I've lost everything, I have no regrets. Because I chose to live... for her sake."

--Texts on the screen appear--

9S: You're 2B, right? 9S: My name's 9S. I'm here to provide support.

2B: 9S... the time I was able to spend with you... 2B: It was like memories of pure light... 2B: Thank you... Nine...s.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

2B: ...Gya!

Pod 153: YoRHa unit 2B activation verified. Good morning, 2B.

2B: Pod... Where's 9S!?

9S: Nnngh...

2B: 9S! Are you all right?

9S: 2B... I'm glad you're okay.

2B: We're withdrawing. Pod, administer emergency maintenance to 9S and tell the Bunker--

9S: No. I can't go back. If the infection spreads, I may end up attacking you.

2B: Stop talking nonsense, 9S!

9S: Commencing... self-reformatting...

2B: Stop!

--2B and Pod 153 at the same time as their voices start fading away.--

2B: Please! Please don't die on me! I'm the one who should die! What's the point of my staying in this world? Please don't save me, 9S...

Pod 153: Alert: Infection critical in YoRHa unit 9S. Sensor signals lost. Black box defensive standby-mode activation failed. Temperature rising. Proposal: Cool body and cerebral unit immediately.

9S: Auditory sensors... down.

My temperature regulators are at their limit...

It's so quiet...

So this is how it all ends...

It's sad that I'll lose everything, but...

the curse of my sins will disappear as well...

The time I spent with 2B was precious to me.

There isn't a single detail I don't remember.

...Heh. I bet I sound so stupid right now.

You know... I'd really like to...

go back there with you again... 2B...

2B: Our prayers were never heard.

9S: Our future was closed off.

2B: Despite it all, the fact we'd fought together...

9S: ...was a miracle that shined brightly.

9S: You were always with me...

--9S and 2B at the same time.--

2B: Thank you, Nines.

9S: Thank you, 2B.

#nier #nier automata #nier concert #9s2b #2b9s #supplementary materials #-2B voice- I want you to warm me