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away-from-anthills · 2 years

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i’m not sure if i’ll ever get back to writing afa (and if i will it’ll probably be in a different form and no longer affiliated with warrior cats, as i’ve been sorta moving away from the series given (gestures) Everything) so. would you like the rest of how this would have gone to be spoiled for you? if so read on

remember: where we last left off, antstar has killed stoatslink to cover up sparkthistle's murder, shadowclan is going insane bc their leader is an adulterer (and worse a code violator), and thunderclan riverclan and skyclan are spinning in the corner.

- eventually, shadowclan's situation culminates in a full-on revolt led by the older shadowclan cats against currantstar and his philosophies of rejecting traditional shadowclan culture in favor of facades and mass appeal. it's left unclear what happens to currantstar; antstar thinks he sees him in the window of a twoleg house, but it could be his mind playing tricks on him. when asked, currantstar's sister simply says she 'never had a brother'. sleekstar, currantstar's former mate, is the one who becomes the next leader. antstar is terrified of the implication, especially as he had previously thought of currantstar as hope for his situation

- so naturally when talonscar, an elder of windclan, starts to idolize the revolution of shadowclan, whitetooth and antstar scheme to starve talonscar to death, subtly, in such a way that nobody notices the elder slip out from underneath them. this is really the moment where antstar's killings turn from reactive to proactive- no longer is he killing those that clue into his crimes, but those who -could-.

- some time later and antstar and his deputy/former friend, russetfoot, begin more and more to disagree on things, eventually culminating with a long argument in the rain in which russet accuses ant of being a horrible leader. ant thinks he sees whitetooth lunge in to kill the cat, and so antstar follows through, and after a long close fight antstar manages to kill his deputy... only to realize that whitetooth never jumped in and simply watched the whole thing from the sidelines, and that for the first time antstar has committed murder completely on his own accord.

- the two return to camp with russet's body, swearing an attacker got to all three and killed russetfoot. and it's fine, the clan believes antstar once again even though some of them do find it strange. antstar takes all of this completely fine (Lie. He has 97 mental illnesses)

- time passes, and antstar’s paranoia begins to die down a bit. whitetooth never refers to the murders, and antstar wonders if they even really happened. he begins to really grow into a leader, leading his clan in a defense against shadowclan and establishing further trade routes et al with riverclan. toadpool is appointed in russetfoot’s place, and toad is fine, if passive and lacking real leadership

- pigeonstar however is still PISSED antstar, yknow, gave the order to kill pigeon’s son (even if it was not completely intentional). so are pigeon’s other two children, the volatile nettlebark and the detached birchtail. nettlebark sets out on a revenge quest to get antstar back in revenge, but his attempts are unsuccessful, and he ends up being killed by a windclan patrol in retaliation. pigeonstar is taking the ‘btw your son was killed by the same clan that killed your other son when he tried to get revenge for your other son’ thing as well as you’d think

- riverclan, in addition, is also becoming more demanding. they continue to fare poorly and windclan is being driven a little up the wall by how they’re treating them. antstar wants to help riverclan and keep his allies there, but his own clan is unwilling, and the threat of public opinion is enough for antstar to revoke all help to riverclan and leave them alone.

- naturally, at the next gathering tulipstar does not come, instead replaced by squirrelstar. thunderclan finally got their chance to claim sunningrocks from riverclan, in the process killing off the last of tulipstar’s lives. she died alone on the battlefield. squirrelstar is naturally sorta pissed at antstar; it was a battle antstar amplified that cost squirrelstar’s mother her life and now tulipstar has been killed because antstar didn’t offer support. (confusing? yes, as clan politics are). windclan and riverclan relations cool and eventually freeze over; neither are outright hostile but they are no longer friends.

- terrified now that he has no ‘real’ allies, antstar starts becoming genuinely frightening in public and not just Some Wimp That Is Scary After Dark. he becomes a cold leader, not harsh on his clan but harsh on others, becoming the very image of the stoic clan leader he initially feared so much at his first gathering. the other original leaders bow out also. tatteredstar passes away in her sleep after so many years. pigeonstar’s daughter and last remaining kin, birchtail, disowns her father and moves to shadowclan. lost, tired, and alone in all the world, pigeonstar escapes his clan in the night, and it’s mentioned his pawsteps led to nowhere and no cat knew what became of him. with fear- and a coil of pride- antstar realizes he’s the last of the leaders he once knew, and the one who’s been leader the longest. - windclan changes as well. toadpool passes and antstar makes spiderfoot, his old apprentice, his deputy. some cats become more and more close to antstar, others seem simply passive towards him. whitetooth remains windclan’s medic, although marblepaw- marbleface, now- is becoming the more physically capable of the medics as she is now an adult in her prime. she still, however, is terrified of her mentor for the murders she witnessed all those seasons ago.

- antstar himself has come to want children, and he and houndnose have them together. there is no romance between the two, he seems to see it as a kindness because she has never had a surviving litter before. (this is not presented as a good view of things.) there are four kits, antstar names two of them mudkit and tulipkit while houndnose names the other two acornkit… and talonkit, after talonscar, unaware the father of her litter murdered them.

- antstar is as scared about this as you’d think. while he is very close with his sole daughter tulippaw, he is very neglectful of his son talonpaw out of the fear of what that name means to him. whitetooth suggests antstar show his neglected son affection- and, more importantly, keep his paws on windclan leadership- by making talonpaw marbleface’s apprentice, but antstar has to think about it. - windclan meanwhile is like ‘hey we never did catch the murderer of sparkthistle, stoatslink, and russetfoot’. antstar panics and blames it on birchshine, some random Guy in the clan, who is then exiled and killed by his own former friends under the assumption birch is a windclan threat.

- whitetooth is like ‘hey thats a dumb decision LOL do better you idiot’ and someone walks in on antstar and whitetooth discussing this. antstar panics, says he found whitetooth confessing to being an accomplice, and whitetooth is similarly exiled. whitetooth refuses to answer why they did anything that they did, and when they’re exiled, they just seem to disappear- not even their scent remains on the territory a day later.

- antstar is like. Ok. Thank fuck that’s done. but he gets signs from starclan- signs to beware spiderfoot, and that she will be the one to ultimately kill him. naturally he panics and exiles spiderfoot for no clear reason, and becomes even more authoritarian- now any cat who speaks out against him may be exiled, too. some cats leave with spiderfoot, and antstar continues to panic. spiderfoot is, after all, one of the few cats he couldn’t bring himself to kill.

- spiderfoot and co. nestle in riverclan, and squirrelstar is sympathetic to their plight. antstar, feeling as though he has no other options, chooses to attack riverclan for no reason in the witching hours, hoping his forces- and not him- will drive off spiderfoot. it has to be done, hasn’t it? but riverclan has thrived under squirrelstar’s leadership, and they- and spiderfoot and co.- fight windclan back. windclan’s warriors, who fail to understand why antstar has chosen to attack riverclan, quickly turn on their leader; antstar’s loyalists are killed or driven out and antstar himself is chased away. some cats finally put two and two together and think antstar is exiling all these cats because he himself has murders to hide. marbleface, in her sole line of dialogue in the entire story, confirms this

- some suggest to spiderfoot she leave antstar alone, now that he’s on his own and has fled windclan. spiderfoot however responds she’s not done- she needs some sort of closure. and so, she follows antstar’s scent trail, along the gorge, until she finds him there- broken, wounded, alone.

- antstar is on his last life. the old tom can sense that even now spiderfoot doesn’t want to kill her old mentor, despite everything; and he doesn’t want to kill her. he could, of course- he’s injured but still capable enough, and they’re right by the gorge so he could throw her in easily. but… but for once he declines. he knows he’s on his way out anyway. at least now… at least now he should stop trying to outrun the world, and face the inevitable punishment lying after his death with dignity

- antstar backs from spiderfoot, offers his apologies that he couldn’t resolve everything neatly for her and wishes her luck, and leaps backwards, into the gorge, following all his victims before him. as he falls he thinks of his entire life, all the mistakes he made. and yet… he feels more peaceful, more peaceful than he’s felt in years, more peaceful than he was ever since the story began. he looks out at the sunrise. it’s the most beautiful thing he ever sees- and then, as he hits the rocks below- everything goes black.

- spiderfoot watches the waves carry antstar’s body away. he didn’t appoint another deputy after her, and as windclan has let her back in, she has now inherited leadership. the story ends on her, alone, walking through the grass back to camp, preparing herself to become windclan’s next leader- and, perhaps, in spite of everything- stop the cycle once and for all.

(will she, though? the narrative does not seem confident.)

#not story text #(ish.)#away from anthills #antstar

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themountainsays · 2 years

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Ik we said that in Black Moth, Bruno would be leaving like in canon and all but... but if I may suggest... I really like the idea of him staying and Mirabel sorta becoming part of his family specifically, under his branch in the family rather than Julieta's, even though they are both her parents. It's not a sudden change and no one decides that's what had to happen, but she found Bruno's refuge in the walls one day, and now they kinda hang out there whenever Alma is mad. At some point, she may get into her head the idea that her mother would be better off without her. She already feels excluded by her half sisters - particularly by Isabela, and when they refer to Agustín as "my dad" instead of "dad", she comes to understand she can't be part of his family either. It's not that she severs her relationship with Julieta entirely - she loves her, but she becomes distant with time, and since she's so much like Bruno and Bruno was pretty much forced to stay out of a responsability towards his daughter and sister, she ends up gravitating towards him. She feels like her mother wouldn't understand some things, or that her advice always leans a bit too much on putting on a smile and trying to appease her grandmother, while Bruno is more like... "oh I hate myself too, kid, cheers to that". At some point, Julieta starts finding it harder and harder to connect with Mirabel, and she kinda stops trying to force her. It breaks her heart, but her baby barely spends any time with her or her family. However, she seems to be right at home with her dad.

But she's not Bruno's daughter in a depressing sort of way - in fact, there IS a sudden decision to be made, and it's when Mira is still 5, not even a year after her failed ceremony, when Bruno realizes shit's fucked, the situation is bad, this is his daughter and she's alone. Now, he never planned to have a daughter, but now he has one, it looks like she's gonna suffer just as much as him, and she suddenly doesn't have a dad in Agustín anymore. She's gonna need one. So he stops wallowing in self-loathing and sadness and decides he's going to be an actual dad. He crafts her toys, plays with her, teaches her to read and write, gets her an accordion when she shows an interest in music, defends her from Alma whenever he can, talks to her classmates' parents when the kids are mean to her, makes himself clean and presentable because he wants to be a good example, gets out of the walls and decides to somehow turn his room into an actual liveable place so she van visit whenever she wants... his participation in her life is a great source if comfort, and they actually end up becoming best friends. They're silly, weird and artsy together. He respects her opinion and trusts her judgment, and she knows she always has a responsible adult to rely on whenever she needs help. They also have a surprising amount of fun together, coming up with stories and handicrafts and music. He calls him Papá. Pa for short. She wears a green shawl around her shoulders, or a green scarf tying her hair, or green skirts. She learns how to raise rats. Everyone in town still believes she's Agustín's daughter, but they know she's more Bruno's that she's his. They don't know she's his daughter, but she's clearly his kid. She becomes optimistic again. He becomes a happy man. His love for her inspired him to love himself.

#madrigalcest #shipcest #brulieta #dad bruno au #so like black moth but happy #tbh brumira is brotp but you almost can't find any brumira brotp content away from the anthill 😭😭

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leporellian · 2 years

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nick shadow and mudclaw DEFINETLY

tbh mudclaw is one of the few things keeping me tethered to wc beyond casual interest like they recently updated the website a bit and i didnt care UNTIL they mentioned mudclaw and i thought God dammit i have to see. And they gave his site art big eyebrows so all is right with the world

and nick shadow my favorite con artist (who is also ultimately getting conned by the narrative all along LMFAO) <3

#him and brindleface and yasc (altho i plan to move yasc further and further away from wc; already the only similarity is starclan’s name)#oh and whenever i get back to away from anthills LOL

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chweverni · 2 months

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LOOK AT ME!!

pairing; han yujin x fem!reader synopsis; he wants your attention, but you're cold! like the himalayas! wc; 545 author's note; one for my jiji babes </3 twice and zb1 for the win yall ... and sorry if this feels rushed or js cringe in general. im just going through a yujin brainrot :( im a newbie to zb1 so ye i hope i can write for them more <3

how could you do this to him?, your boyfriend, yujin, thought to himself, sighing hard, his soft cheeks flushed red with frustration, lips forming an adorable pout, as he continued to sulk.

he's been wanting your attention for the past 30 minutes. a request, you didn't want to oblige with, mostly because you were studying. your boy was good at everything, except studying with you. you were always left in awe, as he managed to get good grades even after being this swept away by simple things, such as you wanting to study over being all cuddly with him.

he always thought about what it meant to make a mole out of an anthill, and maybe this is what it meant (not that he was willing to accept it too). he was just that whipped and so in love with you. always needing your hugs and kisses to survive the day. had a bad basketball match? hugs. did good on a math test? kisses. is just tired and wants your company?, "okay let's hold hands!"

"if you continue to skip through your biology textbook like this, i might explode.. y/n.. please! just, one— one hug is enough!"

he was rested on the edge of your bed, which was just beside your study table and well, you regretted how bad of a situation you were stuck in. you wanted hugs, but you were just that unconfident in biology, that you had to study your ass off instead of cuddling with yujin.

"jiji.. just one more page and i'll be done! i promise..", you trailed off, your index finger following the sentence you just read, recalling it in your head.

yujin huffed as he sat erect again, from his previous position of being rested towards the wall by your bed. he grabbed your hand, extending his pinky as he brought it forward.

"pinky promise or i wont buy it.", he stated, his voice being slightly serious.

you chuckled as you gave in to his antics, tangling your pinky in his, as you stood up from your chair, taking a moment to stretch your bent knees. what was unexpected was that yujin found the perfect opportunity to pull you towards the bed. as you fell atop him, he flipped your positions, caging your body between his arms. he smiled wide, as he said with pride,

"where will you go now, y/n-ie?"

you were so flustered that your cheeks almost resembled apples. so you avoided his eyes, as you scanned around your room. he tilted your head towards him with his hand, as he stooped down, his lips hovering over yours.

"just this once, i swear, i will even write notes for you."

you couldn't possibly deny so you shut him off by closing the gap between you both.

his warmth lifted all the weight on your shoulders, as you lightened up, your hands interlocking with his. you smiled against the kiss, his aura making you feel radiant, like the sun. he was your happy pill, and maybe this was all you needed to make those biology pointers stay in your head for longer.

you were so glad you decided to give in and finally just look at him. he's so pure and you loved him lots.

cut! i hope this was likeable ehe

all creds to chweverni only on tumblr! <3

#zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 yujin #han yujin #zb1 fluff #han yujin fluff #han yujin imagines #han yujin x reader #zerobaseone #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 imagines

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pseudowho · 4 months

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Infiltration, Chapter Six: Exposed

Nanami Kento and the reader must pretend to be married to infiltrate a deadly Curse-user cult and take it down from the inside.

*SMUT/NSFW/18+*

A slow-burn fic with fluff/comfort, angst, smut and heroics from our favourite salaryman.

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In the dead of night, as you slept, warm and dreamless and naked in Kento's arms for the first time, the village centre flurried. Its residents (shopkeepers, tearoom staff, enthusiastic knitters) were as ants abandoning an anthill, a hive of activity. Their queen, powerful and renewed, was to lead them to a new hive; for the old colony was in danger, infiltrated by two who were not of their kind.

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"Wake up." A gravelly whisper against your neck brushed the surface of your wakefulness, and a soft nip to your nape penetrated deeper. You rose as if from a deep dive, blinking and warm as you met sunlight. Wrapped in strong, scarred forearms, you felt so profoundly safe as you pushed back tenderly into Kento's strong body. He hummed his approval as your soft legs slid between his.

Tipping your head back on the pillow to look at him, his nose met yours, rubbing gently before his lips planted to yours in a pliable morning kiss, warm and musty and sincere. As Kento moved to pull away, you wound one arm upwards around his head and neck to pull him back. He chuckled against your lips, evolving into a low, slow moan as your tongue slipped against his, his broad-palmed hand sliding up your waist to cup your breast, his thumb grazing appreciatively over your pebbled nipple.

"Part of me was worried," Kento mumbled against you, voice sandy with sleep, "that I'd wake up and you'd be gone." You nipped Kento's lower lip intently punishment, and he groaned into the sting.

"Never," you whispered, sinking your fingers into his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp as he shivered against you, his cock solid and smooth against your lower back.

The warm tumble in the sheets evolved naturally, uninterrupted by clothes or duties. Kento hooked your leg up and over his hip, reaching round you and pinning you back to him with one large hand pressed over your belly, as he pressed into you, thrusting gently against your soft sighs, neither of you yet willing to let go of the night.

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You were unable to wipe the smile off your face as you whisked eggs in the kitchen. The muffled pattering of Kento in the shower, and the feeling of his t-shirt alone on your deliciously aching body, had you breaking into blushing grins, with the memories of your first night together flickering over your vision as you tried to make breakfast.

You heard the dull little bleepbleep, bleepbleep of your pager behind you, and, laying the eggs aside, you rustled in the pocket of your coat to find it. A reply from Ijichi, you noticed, having sent him information regarding the six outlying cult members only the evening before. His response was in decipherable code.

1 X, 2 X, 3 X, 4 X, 5 X, 6 ???

You inhaled deeply through your nose, slipping the pager back into your pocket as you returned to making breakfast. All but one of the cult members eliminated with ruthless efficiency...it was only a matter of time before number six was taken out.

The bathroom door opened, steam tumbling out into the living room. Kento stepped out, a towel hung loosely around his waist, steam still rolling off his shoulders as he bent to rummage in his suitcase, thick downy-haired thighs flexing as he squatted. You ogled him openly, eyes rolling over the taut cords under his broad shoulders, the batwings of muscle between his armpits and ribs, the stretch of his abs trailing downwards. Your eagerness to feel it all beneath your tongue and fingers was fresh and adventurous, and you ached for him as if he hadn't already had you gasping his name in bliss for half the night before.

You looked away as he looked up. Kento's eyes burned up the back of you. The gentle curves of your legs to your round arse, all too visible in the light fabric of his t-shirt. His t-shirt. While you made him breakfast. The domesticity of it all was now no pretence, and it thrilled Kento in a way that he would never have understood in his teens. His eyes darkened to wonder how wet you were, if his cum was sticking your thighs together from his relentless overnight attention. He approached you slowly, light-footed and predatory. Breakfast can wait, he thought as you gasped, his fingers slipping into the slick of your pussy from behind.

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"Ken-- toooo-- aaaaah!" Squeaking every time Kento pounded into you, his thrusts felt like he was bypassing your pussy to hit your belly instead, and you gripped onto the counter he had you folded over, gasping as your hips rucked forwards and your toes scraped the floor.

"'Aaaah!'" He mocked lightly, pitch raised in imitation, "Never seen you-- so-- aah-- speechless," he gasped, revelling in the bounce of your arse every time his hips slapped against it. You squealed, reaching back for support, and Kento gripped your hands, lacing your fingers with his. His hips increased in pace, Kento smirking as he continued imitating your delightful little noises as you blushed, mortified.

With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, you mewled, begging for release and Kento huffed out a laugh, kissing your shoulder in apology for teasing you, reaching under you to stroke practiced light caresses on your tender, overstimulated clit.

"You brought this on yourself," Kento growled, landing a sharp smack to your thigh as you trembled and whined, your noises shooting jolts of arousal through him.

He surveyed you, eyes clouded with lust and panting with his approaching orgasm as you squeaked and whimpered beneath him. Kento gripped into the fat of your hips, chastising you as he watched his cock, soaked in your arousal and his own pussy-warmed cum, plunge into you again and again.

"I just-- in my shirt-- making eggs-- what the fuck did you-- haaaah-- expect me to do?"

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"Do you want some company in the shower? It can be...lonely."

"Shut up and eat your omelette, Kento."

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"What are you doing?" You giggled at Kento, watching him stretching gingerly over the cloudy onsen water to reach his discarded trousers from the night before.

Kento grumbled at you, "My pager. It's gone. I bet it's still in there...or at the bottom of the water." Kento snagged his trousers-- "Aha!" -- as you remembered the message from Ijichi.

"That reminds me," you explained, sitting at the table to eat your own breakfast as Kento slapped his wet trousers to the stone, beginning to rustle through the pockets, "I updated Ijichi yesterday with the information from the library. He messaged back-- they've already taken out five of the six we told him about."

"Amazing," Kento announced abruptly, sincere in the rare praise of his colleagues, "that's the kind of efficiency I can get behind." You hummed in agreement, blowing steam off the surface of your mug. Kento huffed, a frustrated low growl as he stood, shaking water off his arms as he frowned down at his trousers.

"Not there," he rumbled, rolling the sleeves of his knitted jumper down as he sat opposite you at the table. His brow furrowed in thought, he reached one hand absentmindedly across the table, plaiting your fingers in his, brushing his thumb over the inside of your palm. You lowered your mug, thoughtful.

"You really can't find it?" You enquired, worried about the loss of your only shared means of communication. Kento shook his head.

"Like I said, unless it's at the bottom of that onsen, it's gone." Your lips pursed as you got up, walking to the onsen yourself and retrieving the long net used for its maintenance. Silently, you scoured the onsen. After five minutes, you admitted defeat, shaking your head at Kento with a grimace.

Kento pressed his forehead to his fingertips, mentally scolding himself. He shot you a dark look-- "You go nowhere alone, unless it's to get you to safety. Promise me." Your grimace turned to a gently chastising frown, your mouth opening to argue; Kento, sensing your disagreement, crossed the room in a few long strides, clutching the sides of your arms and lowering himself to your eye level, as he stared into you.

Completely disarmed by Kento's fear for you, you grimaced again, nodding slowly as your hands came up to cup his cheeks. Kento sighed through his nose, rubbing it against your palm and placing a soft kiss to your inner wrist.

"I can't...I couldn't bear the thought of you in danger even before we came here, but now, I-- I don't think I'd--"

Kento broke off, cold fear gnawing away at him, the stakes suddenly so much higher now you had both fallen into this promised life together. You shushed him gently, pulling him close to you, pretending to be brave, but deeply terrified by how far Kento would go to ensure your safety.

"We've got this," you urged to Kento, "all we need to do is take out the Fathers, and deal with whatever it is they've got hidden in their dirty little shrine, and we're done. You know what these cults are like...once the figureheads are gone, they basically dismantle themselves."

Kento grumbled into your hair, disquiet in his soul as he remembered the Cursed-energy he had felt approaching the shrine, still infuriatingly unable to place where he had felt it before, grasping for the memory but unable to gain purchase. The Fathers, Kento was confident he and you could manage; the thing in the shrine was such an unknown entity, that approaching it with no back-up was obscenely foolish. Kento knew that fortune did not favour the unprepared.

"Listen," Kento toned, leading you back to the table and sitting opposite you again, each with one hand clasped across the table and one hand wrapped around a warm mug, "before we make our move on the Fathers, we invite the other Sorcerers in. We don't know how many of the cult will stick around for combat, and we don't know what level the Curse in the shrine is at. Or if it even is a Curse...everything we know about it so far is based on what we felt on our way to the shrine."

You nodded slowly, eyes distant as you partook in formulating a plan, "Alright. We can page Ijichi when the time comes. We can make our move against the Fathers tonight." Kento nodded in agreement, playing with your fingers as he took a swig of his coffee.

"With everyone else in the village asleep, as long as we're sly, the back-up will arrive by the time we're ready to deal with the Curse," Kento declared, sounding confident but still plagued by uncertainty. With a moment of clarity, he glanced at his watch.

"We're expected at the village meeting first, though. Do you think you could pretend to be in love with me for a little longer?" Kento teased, eyes glimmering at you with devious affection. You bit your lip, foot sliding against his leg under the table.

"I can manage it...if we practice a little bit more, first." Kento huffed a quiet laugh, raising his eyebrows at you as he cracked his knuckles.

"It will be my pleasure," he rumbled, leaning over to take your lips against his again.

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"I'm upset that we're putting clothes on, at a time like this," Kento grumbled, only half-serious, shrugging his coat over his broad shoulders. Eyeing him unashamedly, you were delighted to see him dressed casually, in a knitted grey jumper and jeans, hair styled loosely,with thick-soled boots. He approached you with a twinkle in his eye, and took your hand, raising it to his face to breathe deeply against your palm before placing a soft kiss to its centre.

His intimacy bold, but understated, he slipped your gloves onto you, pinching the ends of the fingers to position them perfectly. Pinching your chin affectionately, Kento pondered out loud.

"So, what do we know?" He mused, eyes distant, "What have we learned?"

"That you like it when I lick your--"

"No," Kento snipped, flicking you lightly on the nose as you laughed a dirty laugh, "bad. Stop it. Behave yourself. We are--"

"--professionals," you said together, parroting him. He nodded mulishly at you as you continued.

"The Fathers' quarters are on the top level of the Temple. There's...something in the Shrine, and they performed a...a ceremony yesterday?" You and Kento both grimaced, "Which is...alarmingly vague." Kento rumbled at you, pulling his gloves on at the wrists.

"It's the Village meeting today, so we can pick out the main threats...I suppose Emi and Keisuke will be there." You almost shuddered at the memory of your bloody fight with the venom-spitting Curse-user at the party on your first night. Kento felt your trepidation, slipping his arms around you to hold you close while you mused aloud.

"So...act normal. Call the cavalry. Kill the Fathers. Take out whatever's in the shrine...and straight on 'til morning."

You nodded, reassuring yourself that you and Kento were close to the end, your heart thrumming with excitement for your bright new future with him, once the mission was complete. From how he gazed down at you, his eyes glazed over with saccharine warmth, Kento was feeling the same. You leaned up, grabbing his face firmly and pressing a kiss to his lips, hard. Kento kissed you back, enthusiastic, before leaning away slightly, rubbing his nose against yours-- "ow," he whispered, his smile lopsided.

"Sorry," you insisted, still pressed tightly against him, "cute aggression."

Kento felt his heart thud against his ribcage in a burst of affection so strong, he had to resist crushing you in his arms. Teeth gritted as he gave you a restrained squeeze, Kento felt the icy trickle of fear down the back of his neck, memories of the dead never far from his thoughts. Gulping them back, he smiled tightly at you, and opened the door into the crisp winter afternoon.

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The lower hall of the temple opened directly into its courtyard, its peaceful gardens sullied by the bitter afterthoughts of violence. You tucked your arm deeper into Kento's elbow, reaching your hand up to squeeze his bicep, a self-soothing action; he responded in like, pressing your hand firmly between his upper arm and ribs.

The hall was full, with a dozen six-person tables arranged in a circle around a little stage, set up for congress. You were amiable as you moved to sit down opposite Kento, smiling warmly to other couples around you, catching a few familiar eyes, but not the ones you were searching for. Kento covered your corner of the table with his hand as you bumped against it, distracted by the absence of Keisuke and Emi.

Kento was mathematic in his assessment of the room; plenty of Cursed power, but none of it particularly strong. Probabilities ticked across his vision; with none of the strongest sorcerers you had encountered so far being present, Kento felt how acutely exposed he and you were, outliers in a room of Grade Threes and below. Opposite him, fingers tapping lightly against the table, he saw you reaching the same conclusions.

The room buzzed with low conversation for some time, the stage remaining curiously empty. Ten minutes, turned to thirty, grew to fifty. Kento was a patient man, not unnerved by the passive passing of time. The sun sat low in the sky, and was quickly blotted out by thickening clouds, threatening a deep wintery gloom as the first flurries of snow blew on a breeze into the Temple. As the whistle of the wind died, hollow footsteps approached the hall.

An older gentleman, pale and rheumy, accompanied by a now familiar figure in a kimono, skirted apologetically onto the stage, bowing in a crescent to all of the attendees before beginning to speak.

"You've all been so patient, and for that, the Fathers send their most gracious thanks. You do all, of course, know that you are here today to pay your respects to our benevolent Mother on the hill." The gentleman gestured wanly towards the Shrine, obscured by skeletal tree limbs up the winding hill. Kento's eyes narrowed, and you felt uncertainty bubble up in your gut.

The pale-eyed man continued; "Your companions, the first half of our blossoming community, have already enjoyed their visit. I am pleased to say, they have found themselves overwhelmed by the Mothers' power." He stepped from the stage, gesturing invitingly towards the crowd, "If you would all follow me to the Shrine, you too can share in our glory."

The crowd rustled to life, man and wife sharing excitable glances, and Kento moved smoothly to you, ducking his head to whisper to you, before being gracefully interrupted by the kindly old woman in the kimono.

"I hope you don't mind," she cooed, sleeve rising to cover her lower face, "but Father Tatsu has asked to see you personally, Mr.Tsuda." Kento blinked slowly, cool and questioning.

"Oh?" Kento inquired, feigning disappointment, "That is a shame," he lied coolly, "we were quite excited to meet the Mother." The kimono lady demurred, head inclined in gentle apology.

"I am sure the Fathers will be pleased to give you a personal introduction, in recognition of your sacrifice on this occasion. I understand you have not had the opportunity to display your abilities to the Fathers, yet?" Kento nodded sagely, appearing to be in enthusiastic agreement. He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead.

"You go home then, my love," he insisted smoothly, and you felt panic bubble up in your throat; separating had not been part of the plan, and you felt an urgent fury as Kento swept the rug from beneath your feet, "I'll see to Father Tatsu. You always know how to keep busy without me, anyway. Stay warm."

While you knew Kento meant to keep you out of harm's way for long enough for you to send the "Rescue" page to Ijichi, you felt the rope pull from your hands as he confiscated your choice to stay with him, to help him. Your nose stung with tears as you were forced to nod and smile, desperate to kiss him goodbye but corseted by company. He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your forehead before turning and walking away with his guide.

Kento fought the urge to turn back and pull you into his arms, but he could not ignore the visceral instinct that he was about to walk into a deadly fight. Every nerve in his body screamed out against the wrongness of leaving you behind.

Bile rose in your throat, fearful and bitter. You walked calmly through the gusty Temple, flurries of snow turning heavier, and your steps quickened as soon as you stepped over the threshold into the path leading down to the village. Single-minded, you headed home, fingering the cold plastic pager in your pocket, ready to send a message to Ijichi as soon as you closed the door. You could not make Kento's sacrifice count for nothing.

You walked through the village, which was still curiously quiet, windows shuttered. You felt a sickening realisation that your original assumption that the shopkeepers were all attending the village meeting, was certainly wrong-- not one of them had been present. The cold snap of snow on your cheeks only made you feel more naked, more exposed, and a dry sob heaved out of you; Kento's absence felt like losing a limb.

Your final thoughts before crossing into the lost sanctuary of your house, were only of Kento. A moment of silence passed as you felt for the light switch. A single agonising crack to your temple pushed the earth up towards your feet and your vision blackened from the edges, your hand reaching out hopelessly for your absent lover.

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"You really are quite deadly, aren't you, Mr.Tsuda?" Father Tatsu eyed Kento shrewdly from his seated position in the garden below his quarters, steam idly wisping up from his coffee, untouched.

Kento breathed heavily, overcoat flung off on the floor, a fine sheen of sweat across his forehead from the hoops he had been forced to jump through for the past hour. Weaponless, his raw strength had been assessed from every angle, and he was surrounded by stacks of extraordinarily heavy barrells and rocks, some intact, some roughly hewn and broken by his bare hands. Kento felt the sting of irritation as he swept one broad hand back through his hair, peeling strands off his sweating forehead.

"I wouldn't know, sir." Kento turned on thick booted heels towards Father Tatsu, his dark broad figure blotted, imposing against the drifts of snow. Father Tatsu laughed, lowering the coffee he was about to sip.

"You've never fought? I'm afraid I don't quite believe that." Kento remained impassive, unreadable, as he sat opposite Father Tatsu. Father Tatsu appraised Kento.

"My older brother and I...were considered freaks in our backwards little ditch of a hometown." Father Tatsu's fingers pattered in fleeting remembrance, dank memories clouding his vision. Kento remained still, silent.

"Common, in communities like that, unfortunately. But Shinzu is...we are special. And She proved it to us...when She chose us." Father Tatsu stood, his coffee abandoned, and he paced.

"Here, She-- the Goddess-- offered us all the bounties of her nature, to breed a community of sorcerers like none other before. While others out there do good deeds of ridding our land of the scourge of normal people," Father Tatsu spat, his pacing more frenetic now as he beseeched Kento, "we, the chosen ones, can multiply, ready for a new age of sorcery."

Father Tatsu stopped, one hand in the pocket of his dark suit. He paused for a moment, thoughtful, before bringing out a small black device. Kento's stomach swooped. His pager.

"Until your lot showed up, that is. Five of our members killed in just one night, last night, you know?" Father Tatsu said conversationally, "The sixth member, thankfully, remains in gainful occupation at your dirty little school. He let us know some time ago that we were to expect guests from your end. We had our eye on a few of you...but I was very pleased when our librarian found this in his store cupboard. It did rather give the game away."

Kento was on his feet now, floor creaking under the strain of his boots, Cursed energy rolling off him in waves, chin dipped downwards. Father Tatsu appeared completely unaffected.

"I've accepted that our dream for a perfect community will never flourish, while those in charge of our population fight for the wrong team," said Father Tatsu, bitter and resigned, "But it matters not. Our Goddess is revitalised, powerful, well-fed for the first time in generations. And I...I am well-fed, too." Father Tatsu slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket, and Kento felt a torrent of Cursed-energy slam into him, strong enough to slide him backwards a few inches as the Tatami floor shredded beneath his boots.

"The rest of the community can go hang, as far as I'm concerned. It was my brother's dream, more than mine. He has quite the ability, Mr.Tsuda, and it complements mine quite beautifully." Father Tatsu turned on Kento, whose fists were rolled in a white-knuckled grip.

"You don't want to fight me, Mr.Tsuda. You see, my brother can steal Cursed-energy from one living thing and transfer it into another. That is how we released the Goddess from her earthly confines in the first place. And I...I am the perfect vessel. I'm still not certain what my limit is," Father Tatsu mused aloud, gazing at his open hand and the very air around it distorting with brittle energy.

"You and your wife are the only ones left, Mr.Tsuda. The goddess, in her new body, is surely devouring the weaker members of our community as we speak. The others...well, after my brother had donated their Cursed-energy to me, they were only fit for a meal, too. We knew you would be after us...and we are ready."

The room hung in ringing silence. Father Tatsu's lip curled, observing Kento, expecting some response to his impassioned monologue...but receiving none. Kento simply watched the hands of his watch tick round.

"Well?" He boomed, furious at being denied, "Have you nothing to say?"

Kento sighed, all exasperation and delicate exhaustion, as he finished rolling up his sleeves.

"I'm off the clock, which is unlucky for you," Kento toned, low and smooth, "and I don't play with my food."

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Chapter Seven: The Captive Goddess, LINK HERE!

@angelofthorr @nn-hh192 @vxmethyst @moonmalice @daisynik7 @heyitsmirae @black-swan-blog27 @vocosys @mischiefmanaged71 @silkspunweb @deegausserr

Phew. Two more chapters to go ♥️ Sorry for the delay, for anyone who's been waiting...

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teastainedprose · 2 months

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Play With Fire, Ch. 2 ( Homelander x Reader)

Homelander ponders what to do with his little bug and gets a free show. (Homelander x f!reader, plus-sized reader) Warning:🔞 Language, sexual scenes, stalking, non-consensual voyeurism, public masturbation Chapter 1, Chapter 2, AO3 Link

He knows your name now. Homelander knows every scrap of information Vought has amassed on you over the years. Effortless on his part to get it, of course.

When Homelander demands something, people snap to attention, and that’s exactly what Ashley did. She pulled your employee file right up and handed it over, no questions asked.

Why would she? He’s the fucking Homelander. It is better to appease the beast than court his wrath. Besides, Homelander is the reason Ashley now gets to play CEO, and he’ll never let her forget it.

Idly, Homelander wonders if you think you’ve escaped him. He hasn’t made a move in a handful of days and has no plans to do so. The question as to what to do with you still rattles about in his brain.

He flips through your file, considering it again as he mulls over how to handle you. He could give your job back to you and have you indebted to him while effortlessly bringing you to heel. Having you close feels appealing enough to the supe while giving him an easy string to tug. It puts you in your proper place at his feet, as all mud-people should be.

Homelander doesn’t want you kneeling. Not yet. A little struggle from you would suit him just fine. To see that fight that sparked within you in the elevator before you sank to your knees willingly at his feet would taste all the sweeter.

Homelander wants to know if that flame he felt the other day still burns within you. He wonders if you still remember the way his lips taste and the way he can still taste yours. Something sweet, delicate, and addicting. His tongue flicks out over his lips as if he can still taste you.

Homelander blinks, his gaze refocusing on the city below as he takes in the view from the 99th floor of Vought Tower. He shouldn’t be thinking of a little bug like you in such a way yet…

Homelander still doesn’t know why you did it. What sort of creature are you that you have the audacity to touch a god such as him and walk away as if it's normal? As if you have any right.

Oh certainly, there have been handsy fans in the past. A few he’d dallied with for his own amusement, as he’s a benevolent god when he feels like it. They were brittle things he had to take care not to snap in two, overly eager and breathy with praise overflowing.

But you? You’d been eager and breathless when you’d kissed him, but there had been no devotion in your eyes. Anger and defiance had burned in your gaze at the start, followed by satisfaction like a cat who had gotten into the cream after your shared kiss. Smug little bug.

Homelander finds he liked that look on you, the more he recalls your face. He’d like to see it again. The supe wants to stroke the flame within you higher and see if it consumes or ignites you.

Still, he doesn’t know what he wants to do with you. Squash you? Pluck your legs off one by one to see you squirm and squeal? Pin you under glass and watch the life fade out of your eyes? These are all good enough options for a bug like you, but Homelander can’t seem to motivate himself to act.

Flicking through the papers, Homelander skims over your file again before settling on your home address. A slow smile curls his lips. Might as well pay you a visit.

It doesn’t take long to flash across the New York skyline and arrive at your apartment building. It’s an anthill of an establishment with countless drones living out their pathetic lives within. One scan of his x-ray vision pinpoints your exact location—a decent enough apartment with a balcony on the seventh floor. How convenient . Homelander bets you don’t even lock the door, as if that would stop him in the first place.

After settling himself on an adjacent building, Homelander watches. That’s all he does on the first visit and the second. He observes you as you go about your pathetic little ant life. Homelander wants to put you under a microscope to study you. What motivates a lesser animal, such as yourself?

He watches as you scurry about, picking up the pieces of your life after your job loss. You’re not wallowing in despair. Are you ever thinking about him? You’re not scrambling for your paycheck. You’re not lost in a panic. Instead, you surprise Homelander again.

Your shoulders are lighter. You never noticed how much that position at Vought was an albatross around your neck. You’re a planner. You’re a goddamn adult and managed to keep enough savings tucked away in this economy to stay afloat for a year if needed.

Vought fired you, so the unemployment checks you get are hefty. Your resume is bolstered by that time at Vought, and even if you were shit canned, Such a company's name on your resume still holds plenty of prestige. Interview requests roll in, and now you can afford to be selective.

You pick something cleaner. If not to scrub away the sins you’d amassed and witnessed at Vought, at least something to soften the memory. Something satisfactory and with enough income to keep you comfortable.

You pluck a new position from the pile. It’s not as cushy as the Vought job, but you’ve had your fill of that. You made yourself sick on it from choking down their bullshit all for a fat paycheck. This you can manage. This you can do. You even give yourself a break. A month of vacation before the new contract starts up. Time to rest. You fucking deserve it.

It’s the perfect time to catch up with friends and family. The perfect time to properly deep clean your apartment. To shake off the funk that working at Vought had given you. A fresh new start. Free of any volatile supes who could kill you by accident or in a rage because they didn’t like the numbers you reported.

You go out more. You catch up with relatives and indulge in bookstore and museum visits. You make sure to get a fresh haircut and newly painted nails. Anything to pamper yourself because this is your break, and you’re going to savor it.

Homelander watches all this unfold with detached interest, or so he tells himself. In truth, you’re his new favorite show.

He checks in often with you. Any time he’s in the area, or even when he’s not. It’s a quick flight over for him. No one will notice. You certainly don’t.

The supe doesn’t know if it galls him or pleases him that you’re a resilient little bug. Taking everything in stride and enjoying your small slice of freedom. It’s almost charming watching you scurry about blissfully unaware of his presence.

Homelander isn’t there when you pause in a shop’s aisle at the sight of a row of plushies. Plushies of The Seven and of him , of Homelander. The one with the lopsided grin. The packaging reads Junior Homelander Kuddle Buddy, and on a whim, you grab it and toss it into the cart with your groceries. Why not? Homelander is inadvertently the asshole who set you down a happier path. It’s an innocent amusement, even if you know you think about that spandex-suited idiot far too often. Best not to ponder the why. Homelander does notice the plush toy on your nightstand later that day. It strokes some deeper part of his ego, heightening his interest in you. You do still think of him. Is it at the same level that he thinks of you? Of course, worse, really. It has to be. Why wouldn’t you be thinking of the god who watches over this city? Who watches over you.

You smile often. Those smiles are freely given to strangers and friends alike in equal measure, the brightness of it flashing like the wings of a butterfly. Homelander is finding that he likes those smiles and wonders what he could do to coax one out towards him. Idly wonders if that’s even possible.

Your smiles and your anger, Homelander finds both captivating.

He pauses on flybys over your cozy flat out of habit now, too high to be noticed. He even steals away at night when there’s nothing to fill his nights with after Ryan is safe in bed. He knows your routine by now.

During the day, it’s a visit to the local bodega or that cafe that takes a walk through the park to get to but is worth it for the breakfast sandwiches made on site. Picking up lunch or dinner at one of three places that you rotate through as a treat once or twice a week. Quick grocery trips are only two blocks from your apartment.

The evenings bring cooking up simple meals to eat on your couch alone with some sort of TV show or movie. Never any of his movies, Homelander notes with a twinge of disappointment. Well, nobody's perfect. Certainly not an ant such as yourself.

It becomes a bad habit to watch his little bug scurry around her anthill. You’re not one to roam far, so it’s easy to keep tabs on you. It seems the only things that can lure you from under your rock are friends and bad dates.

-and they’re all bad dates. He knows this. Homelander watches each and every one play out.

Even you, plump as you are, have little trouble enticing men out to meet you. Regardless of how fetching you look on each date, there’s never a second. The men never meet your standards, which pleases him. Homelander won’t pause to wonder why.

By the end of the night, you’re always so crestfallen, but that suits Homelander just fine. He doesn’t want to get his gloves dirty by crushing some handsy idiot who would dare stumble home with you.

No, he prefers you alone. Especially on nights like tonight.

There’s a routine after the spectacularly bad dates. They frustrate you and leave you aching in the best way possible. These are the sort of nights Homelander enjoys best from you. The sort where you’re digging into your nightstand for a faithful, vibrating friend.

It’s bright pink, because, of course, it is.

As he watches you pull it out, Homelander huffs in amusement. That Homelander plush watches, too, because it hasn’t left your nightstand since you set it there. That amuses the supe. Two Homelanders are enjoying the show you’re about to give.

He shifts, stepping closer to the edge of the rooftop he’s perched on for a better angle on you. It’s his usual spot right next to your building, with x-ray vision allowing him an unobstructed view of your antics. It’s close enough to hear what you’re up to if he focuses just so.

Homelander can almost imagine the rustling fabric of your dress as you strip that red little number off. The one that flaunts those curves to your advantage with ample cleavage with the threat of spillage makes it all the more tantalizing. Your breasts certainly look on the verge of toppling out of that bra as you drop onto your bed.

He wishes they would. Homelander hasn’t had a chance to watch you shower or catch you in a state of undress, given how busy his days are in the morning. A part of him wants to be within touching distance of you the first time he gets to see you topless. As far as he’s concerned, it’s not a matter of if, but when.

Homelander licks his lips, wondering what your tits taste like and what sort of sound he’d get out of you if he bit them. Images of what those round, hefty globes look like free of your bra filter through his brain as Homelander’s finger clench. He wonders at the weight of them. His hand shifts, cupping his growing erection at the front of his suit as he watches you and wonders what you’re thinking of. Homelander makes a throaty growl.

Do you fantasize about the tempered strength in his arms or the unyielding hold of his fingers? Homelander’s grip on you had certainly stirred something primal in you when you’d kissed, but no. That’s not what you focus on while gently working the vibrator between the folds of your sex.

It's that needy sound he made—the one that tugs directly on your clit. An unexpected noise that you still think about, along with the taste of his tongue. You wonder what that hot mouth would feel like against other parts of your body and if he’d make those same hungry noises. Your toes curl involuntarily at the memory as you slowly work your vibrator between your folds, letting out a soft moan as it finally sinks in.

Then you’re working your frustration out with that vibrator, sinking it in and slowly tugging it almost free of your sex as you work yourself over. In your own apartment, blissfully alone, you’re not ashamed to get loud. No, you moan freely, unaware that anyone can hear.

Except Homelander does, and he appreciates how vocal you can be. How shamelessly you arch back on your bed, legs spread wide as if giving him a show.

Idly, he wonders who you're thinking about, fucking yourself like that as Homelander works his own cock free of his suit. It can't be anyone but him. No human would fuck you that hard, not like he'd fuck you. The thought makes Homelander’s grip tighten around his cock, pumping himself in time with every thrust of that vibrator into your needy pussy.

Homelander’s fist pumps up and down his cock in tandem with every dip of that vibrator into your slick folds as he imagines exactly how your wet heat would feel and how your inner muscles would clamp down on him when you make that expression right there. Face twisted up in bliss as you moan, a smile on your lips as you fantasize away in your room.

It must be him you fantasize about as you fuck yourself. You wouldn’t make those needy little noises for anyone but him, would you? Homelander would like to think so.

Then you take away all of Homelander's doubts because it's his name he hears you moan. The sound nearly undoes him on the spot, and the twitch of his cock is almost painful in his grasp. A sharp whine escapes Himelander as he stills his hand.

Huffing, Homelander squeezes his eyes shut even as he feels his balls tighten up. Not yet. He doesn’t want to come yet, not until he knows you’re closer. Not until you’re all but whining with need. He doesn’t have to wait long, not with how you work yourself over. Thinking of him.

Homelander groans, his attention snapping to your face. To your lips to see if they form his name again. You don't disappoint. You’re lost in the pleasure, moaning his name like a prayer as you chase your orgasm.

Then the cry you make as you reach your peak—that’s what breaks Homelander. His heat vision flares as the pleasure within Homelander snaps, and there’s no holding back his release now. He snarls, his grip almost painful as he gives a few more pumps, and the Homelander is twisting in his own hand as his release spills over the edge of the roof. He watches as you scramble to turn off your vibrator, hands clumsy as you whine from the overstimulation. Homelander groans in response, his own hand giving a few more languid pumps before going still.

The flashing red of his eyes is bright enough to catch your eyes, snapping them to the sheer curtains of your window. You stare for a beat, your head tilting to the side as you wonder at the sight. A reflection from the cars passing by? A stray, distant flash from someone’s window?

Homelander quietly curses, quick to tuck himself back into his suit as he retreats into proper darkness. There’s a smirk on his lips. Homelander knows what he will do with you now. You are a moth that he will draw to the flames of his affection passion.

#the boys fanfic #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander x fem!reader #homelander writing #homelander smut #canon x you #the boys smut #plus-sized reader #🍵 play with fire #x reader

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trancylovecraft · 4 months

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(AOEX) YANDERE PLATONIC SHIRO FUJIMOTO x READER, RIN & YUKIO

(REQUEST FROM AO3)

Thank you for ordering!

Come again soon!

SEQUEL (Yanplatonic Demon! Arthur A. Angel x Okumura! Reader + Exwires)

• Ooh. Not good for all three of you.

• I headcannon Shiro as insanely protective, Possessive and Manipulative in general so this really isn’t gonna be a fun time.

• You are Rin and Yukio’s sister, The youngest triplet of the children born from the union of Satan and Yuri. You, Just like Rin, Have inherited the blue flames unlike Yukio. Your heart being sealed within the hilts of twin daggers.

• Shiro’s tendencies started on The Blue Night. When he had held You, Rin and Yukio in his arms for the first time he had grown a fondness for the three of you.

• Not like he’d ever admit it though, Shiro didn’t want to take care of a bunch of demon’s brats. Especially Satan’s, He had plans to get out of here and you three weren’t going to convince him otherwise.

• It’s only when Mephisto catches him in his bet, The one where he couldn’t back down from any demon (Including Nephilim) That he’s now forced to take care of them.

• He’s pissed, Furious beyond words. Mephisto had fooled him, His plan had worked and now he was forced to take care of Satan’s spawn as apart of his bet.

• Though something unexpected happens. He grows fond of you all, Becoming the primary caretaker amongst the monks at the convent. And sure enough, He grows attached

• You are the princess of the family, Both because you’re the youngest and because.. You remind him of Yuri both personality-wise and the way your smile just causes flashes back to her.

• Due to this, You’re spoiled to high hell. Plushes, Toys, Pillows and food. Everything you could ever want would be handed to you, Thankfully being able to be paid by his wage as a paladin.

• You get away with lots too, Often being the one to take the blame for your brothers when they screw up because.. Shiro just cannot stay mad at you when you smile at him like that.

• You also get a room to yourself unlike your brothers who had to share.

• Though this comes with drawbacks such as his protective aspect going CRAZY. Like Shiro will not let you outside of the convent without him, Not even trusting Rin or Yukio.

• Shiro might even go as far as to convince you that you have an illness. That's why you cant leave, Why you’re so spoiled! Shiro may even put a few of his familiars up to “convince” you, Kin of Astaroth you cant see due to not having a temptaint.

• Rin, Is the second most spoiled though its like comparing an anthill to a mountain when next to you.

• Rin gets more spoiled in privileges such as freedom to go wherever he wants (as long as he keeps Shiro updated via text every half hour) As well as actually being able to go to a normal school unlike you being home-schooled and Yukio doing his exorcist stuff.

• Though Rin does have freedom, Shiro has installed trackers on all of his devices and makes sure that he’s being safe. Sometimes if his paranoia was up, Shiro would follow him. If any demon tries to get near him then their heads would be off with a single shell of his shotgun.

• Knowing Rin though, He gets into a lot of fights. Shiro only wants to keep Rin safe so its only natural that he never sees any of his opponents again. Maybe in a news article but don’t worry about it, He was sketchy enough so he was bound to get into trouble eventually!

• Yukio is an interesting case.

• This is where Shiro’s manipulative tendencies really start to shine, Teaching Yukio since he was a toddler about demons and how to fight them. Though the reason Shiro does it is.. For a different reason than in canon.

• Yukio gets taught to look out for both You and Rin, Gets basically indoctrinated into Shiro’s own tendencies and made to believe that this was for all of your own goods.

• This makes Yukio the peacekeeper. Since you and Rin both look up to him, You both believe him when he tells you that Shiro just wants the best after you both come to him about your suspicions

• That doesn’t mean there isn’t any love for him though. Shiro teaches him to wield a gun to make sure he can defend himself and his siblings while he is away. Shiro isolates Yukio from others, Shura being his only companion since she's Shiro’s disciple.

• Kuro, Being Shiro’s familiar is often assigned to trailing you all and giving reports on your wellbeing. No secret is safe when Kuro is on the case.

• You all often get treated with days out, Shiro enjoying spending time with his kids. Parks, Carnivals or playgrounds. Wherever you all go, Shiro makes sure to keep an eye out due to all the horrid men in this world.

• When you all were little, Swear to god this man had a three-calibre baby holder. He thought it was funny but the pictures make you cringe inside.

• If you all ever do get suspicious and try to run away, Then Shiro would get absolutely pissed.

• His own children, The kids he had raised trying to get away from him? Unacceptable. With his skills and connections as the paladin it wouldn’t be difficult to find you all again, Easy dragged back to the parish by the tails if he has to.

• You’d all be grounded to high hell. Bars on your windows, Thrown into the same room so its easier to keep an eye on you all. The monks at the parish grow weary but they can’t argue against the paladin, Who threatens them with their jobs if they snitch.

• Shiro makes sure to off any person who could’ve hurt any of his kids, Easily covering it up and moving on with his day.

• He tries to make it up to you all, To try and make sure that you all don't fear him. You don’t, Right? He’s your father, You shouldn’t be afraid!

• In truth you all are horrified. The man who raised them was a monster, Committing deeds only revealed to them now and ones that made them want to throw up.

• You are crying, Unable to accept the truth as you hide under your covers. Rin lashes out like a cornered animal, Yelling so angrily but deep down he is terrified. Yukio is in denial, Insisting that there must be some explanation for why Shiro had been acting like this.

• When Satan possesses him and he dies in a burst of blue flames, He can only hope that he did a good job. That his children, And only his will be safe.

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popcornpieispissedoff · 8 months

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A Pile Of Canon Divergent Danganronpa Headcanons:

The students absolutely did not get along when they first enrolled, they were all legit getting on each others' nerves and every other day was a shouting match.

Byakuya doesn't mind Ultimate Impostor's presence most of the time, but there have been times when he was seriously creeped out by Impostor.

After they adopted Kotoko, Hifumi collected all his loli/shotacon and invited Kotoko to help him burn it. Seeing the damage adults did to Kotoko has him rethinking his tastes in manga altogether.

If Kiyotaka catches anyone running in the halls he will drag them to that person's starting point and make them walk back to their destination.

When Gonta inevitably found out that Hiyoko liked squishing ants, he sat her in front of the biggest anthill he could find and unloaded ant facts on her. This bored the habit right out of Hiyoko.

Everyone has accidentally locked themselves out of the school at least once.

Over time, everyone noticed that Mikan was tripping over less and less. Though she attributes it to learning balance from Sakura, she subconsciously knows it's because she doesn't need the attention anymore.

Mikan wants to cure Nagito's terminal illnesses, but fears that Nagito's luck would kill him if she does so.

Mikan cares deeply for the Warriors of Hope, and is a key player in their rehabilitation.

The virtual Jabberwock Island from Danganronpa S is still there...but the students actually built it to get away from their oppressive dickhead superiors that they hate. It has the 50 day summer camp mode for all of them, or a solo mode for anyone to set a specific amount of time within the virtual world to unwind.

[Very slowly lays hand on Masaru's head as to not trigger his trauma of being slapped] This boy can fit so many cuddles and kisses.

Jataro won't just let you hug him, the little mf will let you s q u i s h him into your body with all your love and might. As long as he can still breathe he will be happy and let you hold him.

Kirumi cracks pretty easy under stress. She doesn't lash out at everyone so much as she curls up against the nearest wall and rocks herself.

Don't ask Kirumi to reenact Jackass with you, or she will absolutely overcomplicate the assignment and seriously injure herself. She does not comprehend physical comedy, much less the line where physical comedy becomes everyone around her fearing for her life.

Ryota straight up lives in the walls along with the balding Monokuma from V3. Junko and Ultimate Impostor are the only ones who know, but neither of them have been successful at getting Ryota out of his shell.

Korekiyo has been given an intervention by all the girls at Hope's Peak. It ended with eight hours of group hugging. Korekiyo is feeling better now.

Korekiyo and Kirumi have routinely fought over the air conditioning.

Masaru will bite anyone at least once, but for reasons only known to himself, he likes biting clowns the most. He will hunt down any clown that appears in his field of vision and not stop until he gets a bite.

If Gonta finds any insect traps or insecticides, he throws them down the garbage chute.

Hajime is still Izuru, but it's an open secret. His classmates love him no matter what his identity is. <3

Reserve Course students weren't so chill about Izuru, however-they wanted Jin Kirigiri's BLOOD. And the Ultimates just kinda let them do it for treating their friend as a lab rat.

One winter when the heater broke everyone slept together in the gym until it was fixed. We're talking a pile of blankets that was three feet thick.

They legit would not trade each other for the world except for Kokichi and even then Suichi would still be sad about it

Mahiru doesn't like taking pictures of Ryoma because his weirdly large eyes reflect all the light and the result always looks terrifying.

Someone kept leaving a stuffed toy clown in random places around the school...until they adopted Masaru and he promptly bit the shit out of it.

Ibuki tried playing from the rooftop once. It took 8 hours to find her, 4 hours to coax her down, and 2 hours to soothe her afterwards.

Nanokumas like to move things around when nobody's looking.

All Ultimates are prone to getting the zoomies. It ranges from Leon running around in circles to Sakura almost leveling the school.

Reserve Course students like to observe the Ultimates because Ultimates are all stupid fucking dorks and watching them accidentally stir up chaos is great entertainment.

Hope Fragments appear when a student feels their happiest. It forms within the body and gets hacked up like a hairball.

Gonta routinely has nightmares about being caught in a venus flytrap.

Fuyuhiko has become aware of Yasuhiro's debt to his family, and holds it over his head.

Peko wonders if her parents know about her becoming an Ultimate.

Junko is trying really, really hard to feign apathy towards her classmates in the name of Despair, but no one buys it.

Mukuro and Peko like to spar together, and they're pretty evenly matched.

Miu is soft (by Miu standards) towards Chihiro.

Miu becomes very anxious and needy at the mere thought of graduating from Hope's Peak and moving away from her friends.

More to come when my brain cells wake up and remind me who these people are

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stayandot8 · 5 months

Text

Caught In The Blast

Genre: angsty mess

Relationship type: exes

Important Contents: slight swearing, gahd dayum this hurt to write but enjoy the fruits of my 2-6am labor

WC: 2.1k

mastrlist

The fight was a bad one. The worst one we’d ever had.

He hadn’t slept, I didn’t either. We were both in bad head spaces, I know that now. It was a conversation that never should have happened. It was a perfect storm of everything that could have gone wrong, did.

He had just come back from tour, which explained why he had his bags wih him. He came straight from the airport to my apartment, where I had been up waiting for him. He was four hours late, which he swore up and down wasn’t his fault. I tried to believe him, but there was a voice in the back of my head that told me he was lying for some reason. I had no grain of evidence for this accusation, yet I had convinced myself that this anthill was indeed the mountain I would die on.

He came in the door in a bad mood. The air around him was just exhausted and defeated, not normal to how he would come home from previous tour months. He almost threw his luggage down when he entered and sighed so loud I heard it across the room. Already irritated with how late he was, I checked the clock for the fourth time that hour and said the worst thing imaginable to start a conversation with your boyfriend that you haven’t seen in six months when you can already tell he’s in a bad mood.

“You’re late again.”

A great start.

“I know. I told you I was gonna be.”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to be four fucking hours late, Chris. That’s all.”

“Well I didn’t fly the plane, I don’t know what you would’ve wanted me to do.”

“Did you come straight from the airport or did you sneak off to the studio again? You have a tendency to do that.”

“Really? This again? Come on, I literally have my bags with me. I wanted to see you, so I came straight here. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yeah, it is actually when we haven’t talked on the phone since you were in Japan. Especially when we talked every night before that.” I said that last part under my breath, not quite hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but rather just in case the pang in my chest that I would regret it later was right.

“Well, shit got busy, I don’t know what you want me to say. The closer we got to the end, the more tired I was.” Or was it because you didn’t miss me?

“A text telling me that wasn’t too much to do, was it? I just don’t see what would’ve been so hard about-”

“Look. I just landed, I came straight here, and all I want to do is sleep.” He dragged his bags into my room and left me alone in the living room, seething. I wasn’t about to let him off the hook like that, no. My innermost need to win any argument, a quality I got from my mother, wouldn’t let me. So I followed him into the bedroom to see him packing up some of his stuff into his bags.

“What are you doing?”

“I came here to be with my girlfriend after being away for months but if you’re going to be like this, then I’m going back to mine. I know I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

“When I’M being like this? Like what? I’m just being honest. A text isn’t too much to ask for, is it Chris? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in what feels like years and you come back and act like you don’t even want to be here! How am I supposed to react to that? What would you like me to say? I missed you so excuse me for wanting to know-”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry for being busy’? ‘I’m sorry that my job keeps me fucking exhausted all the time and I’m sorry that I can’t be there for you all the time’? This is my job, this is my life. This is what I signed up for. I have no room to complain about anything to anyone. Just,” He turned away from me to make for the connected bathroom. “Let me grab my stuff and I’ll be out of here.”

“Maybe when you eventually get back, I’ll be a happy, normal person again who never questions you and will always just be happy to see you whenever you grace me with your presence.” I turned to grab my stuff to storm out, ever the drama queen. “And if you see my boyfriend anywhere, let me know. Tell him to call me.”

“And when you find my girlfriend, tell her when she stops being a bitch for no reason, to come and find me.” He’d never called me that before. I don’t think he’d ever called anyone that before. It had come out of nowhere, seemingly from the depths of his chest with how much vigor he said it with. It was such a surprise that I dropped my coat and shoes on the floor. And then the rage hit.

“What did you just say?” I said to the door, not wanting to turn around. I couldn’t believe my ears.

“I knew I would regret that as soon as I said it.” I heard his voice come closer, but he knew better than to try and touch me. “I’m sorry.” The first apology of the night. “I shouldn’t have let my anger get the better of me. I haven’t slept and I’m not in my right mind.”

“You’re damn right you’re not in your right mind. And if this is what your ‘job’ has turned you into after this long, I’m not sure I can keep up. The man I know would never do that, no matter how stressed or how tired he was. He wouldn’t act like this.”

“This isn’t me, you know that.”

“I’m not sure what I know anymore.” I finally turned to him, my cheeks wet with my silent tears and my things forgotten on the floor. “What happened to you?”

“It’s too much to explain, you wouldn’t understand it all.”

“Then help me understand! I want to, so please just help me. Help me see the world of your profession through your eyes.”

“That’s just it! I can't! It’s not just a profession at this point. It has turned into my whole life. My whole life is under the control of people who don’t know me unless I make myself heard. I have to fight for my voice and sometimes even that isn’t enough. I’m not just fighting for me, I have seven other people I need to make sure whose voices are heard.”

“I know that, Chan. I know it’s not just you. But there comes a time when you have to put yourself first or else there won’t be anything left for you to fight with.”

“If you think that I wouldn’t fight until I have nothing left, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

“That kind of talk is self-destructive, Chan. You’re going to implode. There will be pieces of you on the walls of the JYP building. And you’re going to take me down with you.”

“If there are pieces of me left, then at least I will have made my mark on something. And I wouldn’t want my ‘self-destructive talk’ to infect anyone else, so I guess there should be as much distance between us as possible.” He pushed past me to get into my room, his empty bags in his hands. He started gathering his stuff and throwing it on my bed to pack it. “Wouldn’t want you to get caught in the blast.”

“Oh yeah, because I wouldn’t be there to pick them up like I have a dozen times before. Because everytime you call I’m there. Whenever you need me, I ran to you. But when I need you, where are you? I know you love to make everyone feel loved but when it counts? You feel like you’re being pulled in a thousand directions but why is that? Do you not put yourself there? You don’t help yourself! To the point where no one else can help either because we don’t know how!”

“Like you’ve ever asked how you can help me! You’re so focused on what’s wrong that you don’t see what’s right in front of you. I’m withering away and there’s nothing I can do! Nothing anyone can do…”

He collapsed onto the floor, in the middle of his half-packed bags, and curled into himself. Just like I had said, there was nothing I could do for him now. I had no ideas, no suggestions, no solutions for him.

I loved him. I knew in that moment I did. I knew it from the moment I met him and from that point on I would for as long as I lived. But I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn’t watch him self-destruct. If this was what it took for him to realize what he was doing to himself, then maybe it had to be done.

He grabbed his zip-up Mahagrid hoodie he used to wear for his lives that he had to do while he was at my house. I slept in it every night when he wasn’t here, which had been often nowadays.

“Can you at least leave that?”

“Why?” His tone was dead.

“You barely wear it anymore and you know it's my favorite. You’ve seen how often I sleep in it. Are you that bitter that you wouldn't let me have it?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s mine and I’m keeping it.” And he shoved it into his bag and zipped it up. “You’ll be fine.” There wasn’t any malice in his tone there, more like… remorse, if I had to put a name to it. Like he didn’t want to do it but had to to soothe some inner turmoil he was currently going through. He gathered his bags and gently shoved past me in the doorway. I think he believed I would try and stop him. One more disappointment to give him and on his way out, no less. He slowed when he got to the door and stopped when his hand had reached the door handle. It was like he didn't want to leave because he knew there was no coming back. In some way, I think he knew that this was the last straw and this…this would be the last time he knew that he would be on this side of that door. So I said the only thing I could think of that I knew was still true and would be until the day I stopped breathing.

“I love you, Chris.”

“I know.” And he closed the door gently behind him.

That was three days ago. My apartment was now littered with used tissues and empty cups of whatever I had in the fridge because it was the only thing I could keep down. I knew I did the right thing. That didn’t make it any easier. And honestly, I expected a text at the very least by now, but my phone was still black across the counter in the kitchen. I felt like I had been staring at it everyday when I woke up until the moment I fell asleep. I spent the last 72 hours moping around my apartment, doing nothing but avoiding the calls from my parents, friends, and anyone whose name wasn’t Chris Bang. Which never came.

Staring at the contents of my fridge, I couldn’t help the chill that shot down my spine. I had to settle for one of my own hoodies, not nearly giving the sense of home that I had been very dearly missing for the past three days. The fuzz of this sweatshirt just wasn’t cutting it and to be real with myself, I missed him. I fucking missed him a lot.

God damnit.

There was nothing in this fridge. Who was I kidding, I hadn’t gone shopping in a week and it was starting to show. The shelves were empty and for the first time, I was actually starting to feel the hunger. Swallowing what little self-respect I had, I put on my shoes, grabbed my keys, and opened my front door.

And there it was, in its black and white lettering glory. Sitting in a cardboard box was his zip-up hoodie. No letter, nothing else in the box, just this. The last piece of him that I would have, thanks to him.

He would always love me. Just like I would always love him. Nothing would ever change that. Maybe later in life, we could come back together. There was always that hope. But until then, we would have to settle for this; deep down, I knew that promise to always root for each other still stood. I knew he would keep up his end.

I never took it off.

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callsignkeegs · 6 months

Text

ness usually prefers animals over people because while growing up he was always alone. he never had any friends that lasted, and the other kids would often ignore him and would only (reluctantly) let him play with them if they were literally forced to by a teacher.

whenever he was alone he would search for little bugs to play with. he would sometimes watch ants at anthills or play with ladybugs that he found, which the other kids found weird so they started avoiding him more than they did before. there was a cat on his street that he would sit and pet after school while other kids were hanging out with friends or going to the park.

as he got older his parents would ask about him going out with friends. at first he would say that his friends were too busy to come out and play along with other excuses, but as he grew more he realised that he couldn’t make excuses forever. he started lying, saying that he had plans with friends and was going to hang out with them later, and would leave the house in the afternoon for a few hours as if he was hanging out with friends.

in reality, he was going to pet stores to look at the animals and visiting dog kennels where you was allowed to take the dogs up for adoption on little walks around the property. it always made him feel less lonely, and it stopped his beloved parents from worrying about him. this went on for years, all the way up to present day where he is working at sparky’s.

he has always preferred animals since they never judged him, but will instantly latch onto anyone who wants to be his friend. there had been a few times where someone asked to be friends and then ditched him when they found out he was “weird” (autistic) leading to him being alone all over again.

that changed when he met mike, though. mike came to the diner one day with abby, and ness was their waiter. abby had brought a notebook to draw in but she had already used it too much and didn’t have enough space left. ness tore out a few pages of his notepad that he uses to take orders. abby was so happy and gave him a big smile, and mike gave him a small nod of thanks. ness took their orders and then walked off to give it to the kitchen and take other orders.

when their food was ready he took it to them, and abby was happily scribbling away on the paper that ness had given her. he was happy to see it. kids had always been easier to interact with. they weren’t as judgemental as other adults.

when abby and mike finished their food and had paid, they were just about to walk through the door before abby suddenly yelled “wait!” and spun on her heel. she ran over to ness with paper in hand, tugging on his sleeve. ness turned to look at her with a confused smile and watched as abby grabbed his hand and put some paper on it before turning and running back to mike.

ness watched her run away before looking down at the paper. he almost burst into tears on the spot. it was a little drawing of him, with a heart next to it and ‘thank you!’ written next to the heart.

mike and abby became frequent customers after that, and each time abby would give ness a little doodle before leaving. he thought it was adorable and kept them in a folder at home. eventually mike and ness became friends, and ness invited mike and abby over for dinner. mike found the folder of abby’s drawings. there was *so many.*

mike instantly fell in love.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf headcanons #fnaf writing #mike x ness #ness the waiter #fnaf ness #fnaf mike #angst #securitywaiter #dreamtheory

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funeral-clown · 25 days

Note

ok so if you were shrunk down to the size of an ant and stranded in the middle of a vast parking lot with only ants for company and the queen ant took a liking to you and invited you to live in the anthill with the ants and over many days you began to learn to speak ant to communicate with these magnificent and terrifying creatures and eventually the queen ant asked you to bed. what would you do. would you bed the queen ant or no

ants tried to eat me when i was a baby so i take the opportunity having gained her trust to slip away somewhere private to kill her and thus stop her colony from reproducing but i do hold her in my arms as she dies and weep at my own inability to reject the cycle of violence and the love we might have otherwise known. if that answers your question

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jacksprostate · 3 months

Text

When God himself informs you your contract has been passed on to a third party, you might wonder where you're headed.

My regiment of angels waved me off. A man with a split lip and holy glow, he said, this was out of our hands, sir. We'll try to follow you. Sir.

The first few weeks I was at the asylum, I got taken off all my pills. Mount Massive was not Heaven. Divine figures shrunk back into shrinks. They paid special care to the rough chop of scar tissue spread across my face. I was a corpse laid fresh on an anthill.

The thing is, when you come off a cocktail of benzos and antipsychotics and mood stabilizers and SSRIs meant to keep you from blowing up the World Trade Center, you have withdrawals. The thing is, it was very apparent that is what the doctors ordered.

The Engine.

I was out of my gourd, when they primed me for it. The therapy, you'd think they'd never seen a car crash before. I could hear all the other men screaming. The sensation, it was insomnia before support groups all over again.

I know what you want. On the way back to my cell, I talked.

"Do you?"

You want him back.

"Do we, or do you?" My false father figure in all his hazmat glory liked to lead his questions.

Of course I want him back. I'd watch their Z-list snuff films twenty four seven if it meant he'd come back.

Why does Murkoff want Tyler?

My shrink, he said, "Have you considered, what is amazing about Tyler is not him, but the fact that you could make him?"

So I learned, this was a Jesus sort of thing. Or maybe God. I told my shrink, you can't teach God anything.

The Engine.

That was a bit more like lye. My keepers, they wanted Tyler. They wanted me pissing on the Blarney Stone. They wanted my palace of many doors. My inner cave. They wanted what my mind could do, they wanted me to craft them their very own God.

The Engine showed me blond hair. Red leather. Chipped teeth.

Oh, my compliance was a scientist's wet dream.

It's only natural that when Tyler returned, everything collapsed like the soggy wood of the mansion under monkey feet.

Like a schoolgirl sold on love at first sight, I want to believe I felt it when he crawled back inside my head and out the door of my subconscious. In truth, I spent the first night of the riot hidden away, under my bed. Awake. The howls I heard. I knew it'd been too long since I'd been to fight club. I'd die like a fool.

Tyler, though.

When I wake up, I'm in an office. In a closet, really. The desk arranged just like the one I woke up at with gasoline on my hands.

Rejoice.

Tyler, I know he keeps coming around, because the hulking, mutated, beaten men I pass by start nodding at me. I know because I wake up with badly done stitches. I know because I'm not seeing him, and he's all the more real since I'm not.

I wonder what the other patients think. Skinny guys fight til they're burger. I wonder if Tyler's siren call works as well in a land already past bottom.

I wake up in different rooms. My cell. That office. A kitchen, with a dead man laid out, head inside a microwave. Tyler left a sticky note on him.

You are what you eat!

The bodies around tell the story. The flesh that speaks.

When the carcass is gone, we stop moving. The burners are clear and the fridge is full of glycerin.

Tyler Durden, creature of habit.

I make no habit of roaming. These men, their eyes are open. They know I'm Tyler. They know I'm his. These things are different. Property, ownership. Things that can be stolen.

I like to fall asleep to the caterwauls of all these lost apes.

The prodigal son returns, finally, when the church burns. You know what they say, Hell is empty, all the devils are here.

Tyler, I say.

He looks at me. It's so easy to be pinned like a worm under a dissecting microscope. I try to imagine him with his brains blown out. With the massacre of a face I have.

Tyler.

"And so Adam was sent from the garden," Tyler says. "And so, the devil ran amuk."

He looks like he's thriving.

The next man I see calls me sir.

#fight club #my writing #outlast #extremely silly #dont try to understand time #this will deeply appeal to like 3 people.

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stuffymcstuffsworld · 1 month

Text

Shovel talk

It was rather obvious that your child attracted weirdos. It was sadly a truth you had come to terms with. Iruma just had that magnetic charisma that drew people to him.

Now, just because you had come to terms with it did not mean you were turning a blind eye. Hell no! The netherworld was full of too many psycho's.

And while you couldn't constantly monitor your child 24/7. Despite some demons' attempts, **cough** Sullivan, Opera, Alice and Clara.**cough** You at least knew he needed to make his own choices without pressure.

Although...that didn't stop you from weeding out those with questionable intentions. That was a rather nice way of putting it. All things considered.

It was so cute how many students got frightened. All it took was a few well placed words. They'd run away crying after that.

But for the more persistent bunch.... it took more. More than just words. Actions were also necessary at that point.

So you may have asked for a little assistance from Balam. Nothing physical! You would never ask him to harm a student!

But his vines were certainly helpful in keeping them in place. After all, you'd rather not wrestle and chat at the same time. His bloodline ability was also useful.

Because it assured the young demons in question that you weren't a liar. That everything you said you'd do would happen. Not threats, promises.

So this is where you found yourself on a lazy Thursday afternoon. Classes had just ended, and no one was nearby to hear the conversation. You stared at the stubborn imp bound to the chair across from you.

"Balam." "Yes?" The nervous teacher stood behind you. Not that the student mood tell his teacher was nervous. It was just another intimidation tactic you utilized.

"Please be my lie detector for this conversation." The professor nods. The student straightened up. Obviously, thinking they were about to be interrogated.

How quaint, you really didn't give two shits about the brat on the chair. The less you knew about the creep, the better in your opinion. "Opera's cooking is the best." "Truth." "I'm really eight feet tall." "Lie."

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs. "Perfect! Now that we've established that Balam-Sensei's magic is working, let's get started."

"I am not pleased with your behavior towards my son." Your words flat and to the point. "Truth," Balam says quietly behind you.

"What makes you think you have the right to stalk him and his friends? Or to try and drop random gifts in his locker?" You hold up a bag with questionable sweets.

"I... i..." They stutter. "Did you put a love potion in these? Yes or no?" You asked firmly. "N-no i-" "Lies," Balam rumbled.

His eyes narrowed, and he gripped the back of your chair. You could tell he was upset. Not that you could blame him.

Love potions on school property were made under careful supervision. Even then it wouldn't cause more than puppy love. This, however... was stronger.

"I'm not going to waste my breath asking where you got this. I'm sure the other teachers will be happy to squeeze the information out of you. " The gargoyle looms behind you a dark look on his face.

The student trembles as the vines tighten around him. "My concern is that you tried to use this on my precious baby." You toss the bag up, allowing Balam to collect it as evidence.

They pale drastically as you raise your gaze to meet theirs. "That doesn't settle well with me, you see." Your tone sends shivers down your listeners' spine.

"See, I was going to go easy on you for the stalking, Iruma has too many of those to count at this point." You sigh. "But you had to be stupid and want more."

You lean forward, keeping eye contact. "Do you know what I do to little imps like you?" You ask lowly. They frantically shake their head.

You hold up your hand, and Balam drops a tool into your palm. You hold it out in front of you. Allowing them to see. A large shovel.

"I cover them in honey and bury them in Anthills. I leave their heads above the surface so that I can hear their screams." You trace the shovel idly with one finger. "Truth." Balam stated.

The student was a crying and sobbing mess. Truthfully, you had only had to follow through with your words once. Once was enough truth that all others who heard were terrified.

"But seeing as you've gone against school policy, your teachers are in charge of your punishment." You could see them tremble, unsure of which was worse. You can't help the small smirk.

"I'm sure Kalego-Sensei would love to hear your disregard for the school's strict rules on love potions. And Dali-Sensei, oh! And we certainly can't forget about Marbas-Sensei!"

The sugary sweet tone you used as Balam starts to drag the student away. It's more terrifying than the icy tone from before. It was one that screamed. "You're screwed!"

But that's to be expected. You loved Iruma to bits. Anyone interested in him had to go through you first. It would be over your rotting corpse before anyone with ill intention touched him.

Speaking of which. You lift up your shovel, blocking the spear about to impale you. "Too slow." Some demons just took words too literally.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #reader #iruma suzuki #balam shichirou

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wishamongtheflowers · 1 year

Text

Bright future goes on

Sobbing echoed off each podium with red shinning out to light the room.

"Why them," A boy wept, "I don't understand."

The screens had his icon crossed out. Those that remained where killed all from a mistake. He knew so! He shouldn't have lived! He was the one who fell into despair!

"You should've executed me instead!"

His scream fell with gravity, into the void.

"Agh, geez." Off and on the past month Amari delt with these random headaches. All he could do was wait them out for a short time till the pain wavers.

Out off all the times he couldn't afford wasting time it just had to be on maintaining the school's gardens and lawns. We all can't win time from time. It wasn't like much was going to stop him from his usual jobs; all was all either or not.

"Almost done here. Just a few more flowers to plant."

"Hey little bro!" The gardener turned his head to see a fellow reserved course student walking up with his hand in the air.

He's one of his close friends from childhood. Wasn't the best time but, it worked out for them.

"Hey there pal. You need anything?" Amari asked.

"Just wondering if you're going to be available this evening? I need some help." He already knew just by his voice what it was.

"What's with that look?"

"Let me guess; you didn't study again Nakano?"

Nakano sighs, "Please help me."

"Alright, wait at our usual spot; there's only two more flowers left to plant."

Nakano bolted off to the school's gate leaving Amari alone. Alas, much to his intuition, he wasn't alone per se. A girl watched him from above. Dead navy eyes who knew yet never knew the gardener completely.

Amari kept his attention on his flowers. Nothing too impressive or new to watch from her protective. She left from her spot going on to handle something Mistress had commanded of her.

"Last one." A blue poppy flower was put into its new home. Gently patting down to fill the small gaps left behind, "There we go."

He took off his personal gardening gloves, putting them in his back pocket. Amari went to the school gates with a pair of eyes watching them.

"Let's mosey on."

Nakano looked over at a tree to find no one in view. He surly saw some girl peeking out. Oh well-

"Nakano!"

"Sorry sorry!" He left in a hurry.

A strange giggled came from behind said tree, "Master is here. Just like Mistress told."

All she had to do was keep track till the day arrives. Distance and out of sight, out of mind will help her in the short term.

'!' The girl stepped on a pair of gardening gloves, 'He dropped these. Luck is turning up!' She tucked them away in her small purse.

She halted her previous mission for now. Now she was wondering amongst living strangers living their own worlds. Each one an ant going to anthills in her disconnected world.

No amount of luck would shield her looks, smell, and constant force playing her strings.

'To the apartment and ready up for another day.' Kido stood at her usual train stop.

Her phone buzzed to life only to quiet once answered, " 8 5 12 12 15!"

"1 8, 1 12 12 9 19 7 15 1 14 7 7 15 15 4. 7 15 20 13 1 19 20 5 18' 19 7 12 15 22 5 19."

Kido giggled then hung up, "Looks like the plan has changed. Got to get some other things done first."

Her crooked lips formed more of a smirk than a smile.

Just what was being said? You had no clue. All you could tell was it looked sinister.

Approach her or not is up to you; your fate is sealed by death no matter your option.

-----------------------[Tags]----------------------

@y0u-f4il3d-m3 @fugitive-detective @human-monokuma @mikado-sannoji and anyone else.

#domino effect

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kinnato · 2 months

Text

First ever fic cause i’m so bored and i don’t wanna do HW, It’s 4 AM, I’m tired, and gay so this is what you’re getting. Don’t interact if you’re homophobic or other stuff i don’t care what you think on this ship. Won’t update again probably, fic was ended early on cause i’m TIREDDD, also was not proof read so sorry if the grammar isn’t 100%. 1k words.

The rumbling of thunderous strikes plague Los Angeles, it streaks across the ever darkening night sky, painting the sky a violently beautiful blue. It highlights a certain mansion, home to an actor, but if you ask him he’s not ‘just an actor’. He’s an award winning director and actor, hot people can be talented too. The smell of rain is running through the house, the hearing of the puttering-pitting rain drops on the window, begging to be inside. A young man stirs awake from the light of his phone on the bedside table buzzing, a light flashes from the notification displaying the actor’s wall paper. It displays a blurry photo of a portal, the camera was shaken when it was taken as if it was hit.. perchance by an ex yakuza member?

The man tries to ignore it, but as one says ‘curiosity killed the cat’ and if one receives a notification in the middle of the night what’s the harm in waking up a little the actor believes as he stretches up, his hair falls on his face covering his eyes. He runs his hands through his soft brunette hair pushing it back as he stretches his back hearing cracks, the soreness of such leading into a slouch, but he puts his back up straight as he licks the dryness of the night off of his lips and grabs his phone. A few unsuccessful annoyed attempts at Face ID due to it being so dark, his phone unlocks and he sees the notification. The actor listens to it it.

“Johnny, my apologies for texting you so late into the night, may I stay for a while until my flight goes? Signed, Kenshi Takahashi.”

There’s a verdant green around the text message, Kenshi is adamant about not buying an IPhone due to the obscene cost. Johnny chuckles quietly to himself, of course Kenshi would use a voice message like he would a letter, that stubborn man would rather get blinded again then give up his manners. Johnny sends an audio message back, he clears the night time gunk out of it with a few ‘m-mms.’ and drinks water to lubricate his larynx. After all of this he still sends a voice message that sounds like Johnny just stirred away, in which he did.

“Kendoll you already know you are welcome at any time baby. Love Johnny.”

He shorthand mocks Kenshi’s manners, ignoring the fact he causes a blush like a anthill reacting when boots step on it. As if clockwork, the sound of a doorbell echos throughout the house, hitting its way to Johnny’s ears. Johnny stands up quickly and rushes not even taking in the darkness of the house, ignoring the need to turn on lights due to the harshness, he wraps a soft velvet robe with the initials ‘JC’ on the back. It was soft and smelt like lavender, the texture of the velvet like an enrapturing warmth in the coldness of the home, well… it’s gonna be home once Kenshi steps inside.

The unprotected feet feel the bitter cold of the floor as Johnny practically limps tiredly to the door. He’s “busted as hell”. He has dried drool on his chin horrifyingly matching his unshaven stubble and eye bags from tirelessly working on his ‘Mortal Kombat’ script.

His hand opens the door and he meets Kenshi. Kenshi is wearing a button up shirt, and pants. He’s drenched in rain water, his blindfold still on tight as ever.

“Thank you, Johnny.” Kenshi says as he walks inside and closes the door. The lighting still streaks every once in a while. Johnny chuckles handsomely at this man is in disarray. “Rough night with the ladies?”. Johnny jokes as he takes Kenshi’s hand. He leads the blind man throughout the house to a bathroom to dry off.

“No, just my flight to Japan got cancelled.” Kenshi spoke, his voice gruff from coughing out from the cold. “Still wearing my gift huh?” the actor chuckled as he noticed, when they get to the bathroom Johnny braces as he turns on the lights. He grabs Kenshi’s hand and places it on his cheek. “I haven’t forgot what you’ve done for me, but” a short silence comes. “where’s Sentō?” Johnny says confused, it’s attached to the blind man almost always. “Sent through TSA before hand so I won’t get jumped by the agents if I try to get on with a sword. “Oh, alright how the hell did you get here?” Johnny asks confused, Kenshi doesn’t respond.

“I want to remember your face.”

Kenshi spoke quietly as his hands slowly start tracing Johnny’s face. Johnny’s face reflects the shortest wavelength back at Kenshi too embarrassed to talk. Kenshi felt the warmth spread to his palm, he doesn’t comment on it and continues tracing Johnny’s face with his hands.

“Kenshi you’re gonna catch a cold, you’re still wet.” Johnny speaks, then Kenshi drags his thumb over Johnny’s lips to hush him. “Shh..” he breathes out, he feels the grooves in the man’s smile lines, the soft hair on top of his head, the ridge on his nose, and the growing stubble.

The taste of anticipation lingers on Johnny’s tounge, he lets the blind man explore his face, taking time with it. “Am I as pretty as you met me?” Johnny chuckles out, Kenshi groans but still continues tracing his face. He pulls his hands away and starts to take off his clothes, Johnny respectfully looks away. “Johnny, grab some of your clothes for me.” Kenshi says, Johnny goes quickly. His eyes already accounted for light as he turns on the lights on the house with the help of his alexa

Johnny comes back with clothes, his heart pounds in his chest as he sees Kenshi naked wrapped in a towel in front of him. “Wasting no time I see?” Johnny jokes and pins Kenshi to a wall, clothes in his other hand as he smirks. “I can practically smell your shit eating grin Johnny, give me the damn clothes.” Kenshi laughs out as he smiles along too.

“You can eh?” Johnny cocks a brow and puts his head into Johnny’s neck smiling, Kenshi feels it.. and some nips from Johnny.

“Watch it!” Kenshi laughs out as he kisses Johnny’s forehead. “Man I missed you, do you really have to go? I can help y’know I did beat you.” Kenshi just sighs. “Johnny I have to fight for my clans honor, besides you have a movie.” Johnny groans and he almost angrily hands Kenshi his clothes as he un pins him and leans on the counter looking away for Kenshi to change. “Alright alright sexy face, just promise me you’ll stay in touch.”

Kenshi gets changed and leisurely relaxes on Johnny. “Fair.” Kenshi and Johnny away quietly to the rain and thunder as they eventually creep into bed, cuddling eachother until they fall asleep intertwined in love and comfort.

#johnshi #mortal kombat #johnny cage x kenshi takahashi #johnny x kenshi #gay men #fluff #sleep deprivation

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