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uwusenpaiuwu · 3 years

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Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

#mikey x male reader #sano manjiro x male reader #sano manjirou x male reader #mikey x reader #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo Revengers #Sano Manjirou #sano manjiro #manjiro sano #manjirou sano #i tried #im so sorry #pls dont cancel me #PSA: don't masturbate in the same room as baji

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sanzu-sanzu-sanzu · 2 years

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songs about toxic people 12

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

MASTERLIST

chapter 12: Bonten lost files

or The stuff they don’t tell you about Japan’s most wanted criminals

#000995

The banker had called you pretty under your cold, hard gaze. Your mouth, precisely, or was it your eyes? Pretty but not in the same tune as how the hard-knuckled weapons dealer had uttered when he kissed your fingertips in his faux gentlemanly manner of greeting, just mere days ago, in another city and for another job that did not require the spilling of too much blood, although it still pissed you off all the same. You think the exact words went something like:

I will hit you back tenfold, you cold-blooded bitch. I will make you beg and kiss the fucking floor on where I stand with your pretty mouth. I will make your eyes bleed—

Which sounded a lot less menacing coming from someone whose hands were bound behind his back, and you did give yourself time to wonder: how exactly was he going to get out of this one? It was at this point though that Sanzu had planted a bullet on the man’s right foot with no warning, the flick of his wrist quicker than your eyes could follow. There was no ecstatic movement of his arms, nor a readable expression on his face, only a literal smoking gun in his hand being the only incriminating evidence that proved it happened.

He was noisy, went his dangerously low, and by now exhausted response at your silent inquiry. So now you made him noisier, you said, even though your words were most likely engulfed by the man’s atrocious screaming. Although there was no need for you to voice out any command, as Sanzu sank another bullet and this time right into the man’s brains to quiet him forever. You’d think he had personal vendetta against the guy for choosing to make him suffer for a mere ten seconds more, but then Sanzu always attacked anyone like he had personal grudge against them, to be fair.

You blink from the sudden headlights of another vehicle that violated your eyesight, effectively bringing you out of your thoughts, and as you turn your head away from the window, you catch Sanzu staring at you with a weird look on his face. Before you can even ask, he takes the tissue box from the side of the seats and hands it to you. It’s only now you feel the sting of the cut on your lower lip.

“A shame he bruised my pretty mouth,” you crack, wincing at the feel of paper against your skin. He merely stares back at you, his frown deepening, the side of his mouth twitching in what you anticipate is going to be an oncoming lecture.

Except there is none. “What?” you sigh.

Sanzu only rolls his eyes at the sarcasm in your tone and you smirk. “Hey, if you disagree that my mouth is pretty, you don’t have to tell me.”

You blame the drug and your woozy head for your now-running mouth, and you don’t know what Sanzu’s excuse is for refusing to take the bait for potential banter, instead opting to hit back with a deadpan:

“I didn’t say that.”

You think of responding but also maybe you’ve annoyed Sanzu enough even before tonight, ever since the moment you’d agreed on this entrapment operation, so you decide to keep your mouth shut. Silence envelopes the car once again, until a little while later when you feel something cold touch your cheek. Beside you, Sanzu has reached out an arm to press a makeshift ice pack against your face, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. There’s still that annoyed look in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. Maybe, you like to think, maybe he met a match amongst the guards on his way to you that he didn’t like? Though, try as you might, you can’t imagine Sanzu complaining about an all-out fight.

“Thank you,” you hear yourself say as you take the ice pack, half-hoping he hears, half-hoping he doesn’t. For the ice pack, for arriving on time, you don’t specify anymore, but you know he understands.

#002567

It’s been a peaceful morning so far, save for the occasional rustling of papers and Sanzu’s loud berating of the stubborn coffee-maker that, unlike most humans he’s dealt with, seems far too impossible to bend to his will. This time, you see him standing in front of the unassuming machine like it owes him money, and as you walk past the scene and hear a light crackle of electricity and another ‘What the Fuck!,’ you do wonder if electrocution via domestic appliance is what’s finally going to bring the living, walking menace that is Sanzu Haruchiyo down. Koko seems just about ready to give up trying to focus and leave for his office instead when you manage to catch him at his end of the table, halting his escape just in time.

He tips the lid of his laptop closed, though, and you take your seat in front of him as you hand him some documents. “Check if these numbers work, please? It has everything Kaku’s gonna need for tomorrow’s operation,” you say.

You catch the way Koko’s gaze lingers for half-a-second, and no more, on your still-stinging neck, as well as the delicate arching of his brow that follows. For once, you’re thankful, because even though he’s not above teasing comments that make you fluster—and it’s not like you’ve got anything to hide because they are your cat’s—this time, he decides to keep his mouth shut for some reason. The clenching of his jaw, however, is enough proof of his attempt at keeping himself from blurting out something stupid, or perhaps in anticipation of an even bigger, more appropriate reaction. Which is inevitable considering the other hawk-eyed occupant in the room—

“WHOAH! Rough night, huh?” you jump as Ran’s face pops beside your head, snooping from right behind you and shamelessly inspecting the still-bright red paw scratches that bloom across your throat with wide, curious eyes. There’s a sly smirk smacked right on his lips that makes your eye tick. “I knew you were the play hard type!” he proclaims, still in that deafening volume.

You groan loudly, ignoring the way the back of your neck burns, feeling more annoyed than embarrassed. At the same instant, you hear the loud crashing of machinery from the coffee area which makes Ran grin even wider, for some reason, totally forgetting the fact that you will all be coffee-less—and, subsequently, a tad more irritable than the usual—in the coming hours until one of you gets fed up and decides to get a replacement.

(Rest in tiny pieces, coffee-maker.)

“It’s my new cat, alright? He gets really aggressive around me.” You say through gritted teeth, your voice rising just a little above your normally composed tone that they’re more used to hearing everyday.

Ran laughs, holding his belly. “Hey, I didn’t say anything.” And oh, how you hate the amusement in his eyes. “I was going to ask about exactly that, your new baby you mentioned the other day.”

In front of you, Koko finally cracks a grin, much wider than your threatening aura should’ve allowed, as he lowers the folder you just handed him to afford you his genuine, probing look, his head slightly tilted to the side.

“No need to be defensive about it.” All heads turn to the familiar sound of Manjiro’s monotone drifting through the door, his eyes busily scanning the nutritional label of some snack in his hand for some unknown reason. “It wouldn’t have been a problem, either way,” he says as he leans on the pantry door—likely waiting for Sanzu to finish cleaning up whatever ruckus he’s put together in there—without sparing you a glance.

You roll your eyes at him, too. “God,” you mutter, impatiently gesturing for Koko to get on with whatever business you came to him to.

#001996

Manjiro had assured the owner at the door there wouldn’t be any casualties while you’re here, but, nevertheless, the other paying customers still rushed out of the bar as soon as your small band of public offenders had made it clear that you were all staying. Not that the owner would’ve had the guts to actually raise his appeal anyway. Still, Manjiro had made a point of having Koko pay for the now-empty seats.

And if there’s even going to be a body tonight, it’s bound to be that of a Bonten executive, you’re certain now, because Ran is absolutely having none of Sanzu’s blatant swindling at the moment.

“I just think it’s unfair that a third of what we got were all Sanzu’s and yet we’re still evenly splitting the bill? Why the hell can’t we go dutch?” He tuts impatiently as he scratches the side of his jaw, his face suddenly coming to a semblance of sobriety.

It’s 3AM in this cramped, low-brow bar in some obscure part of the city—a change in scenery, Ran had declared—and in true low-brow fashion, everyone is fighting for their money. In this witching hour the whole neighborhood sleeps, and yet the whole place is alive and booming brightly for you and your inebriated company, and you don’t think anyone will be stopping anybody anytime soon. Not that there’s anyone else still left standing.

You jolt awake when Sanzu slams both palms on the table. “Last I checked, everyone including you agreed to everything I got. Now quit being stingy, you fucker. You even stole some of my oysters!”

“Weren’t those for fucking sharing?”

“They were fucking not.”

In front of you are two grown men with more money than they could ever account for, arguing over the bill and looking this close to drawing their guns out. Your hold on sobriety is far too slippery at the moment to ponder on the injustice in Sanzu’s words, but you know that whatever the man is saying is not making much sense. You figure Ran is just as lost, too, as he actually pauses and makes a face like he’s been hit with the world’s toughest Math problem and absolutely nobody’s got any time for college algebra. Whatever, though, because now he’s standing again for a retrial of his case and this time, involving the jugs of orange juice—“I mean who the fuck wanted orange juice? Because that shit’s gonna get ya hammered, sure!”—completely forgetting the fact that all of that was Manjiro’s. You suddenly giggle at the idea of Ran pulling on Sanzu’s hair and your head gets so heavy you end up slumping on Koko’s shoulder, who himself seemed too far out of it judging by the wasted smile on his face. You try pointing a limp finger at his smug, too-drunk countenance. “If anybody’s stingy here, it’s definitely this guy.” There’s an attempt at swatting your hand away but instead his palm ends up covering half of your face.

Even with your voice half-raised, nobody hears. Not Rindou who, by now, has also stood up—only to be hit in the face by Ran’s wildly gesturing arm. Needless to say, the younger brother is going to wake up in the morning with a Ran-sized palm print on one cheek.

It seems like everyone is going to wake up with someone’s palm print on their cheek.

“Is it time, Boss?” Koko croons over your head.

“No, leave them be.” Manjiro, the only person who’s left not swaying, the only one who’s ever held on longer than you can on your liquor—you concede this round—is grinning as he looks on his executives. You don’t say a word as you watch him absent-mindedly pop another fortune cookie into his mouth, still with the paper inside, subsequently sending him into a coughing fit.

Maybe the guy’s not as sober as he’s letting on, after all.

#084972

They rarely ever see you with your cats because you only let them stay at home—and you weren’t lying when you said you got a new one that’s just as aggressive and playful as you’d described—which is probably all well and good since the whiplash is bound to break their necks every time. After all, it’s almost disorienting seeing you being all affectionate and tender to your just as besotted pair of felines, mumbling sweet commands to nibble on your fingers or bump your nose—has anyone ever seen you bump noses with anybody?—as if you weren’t just giving out clear instructions on burying someone in the pits not a mere minute before. Good thing Sanzu is always there to smear on your serenity and ground things back to reality. Free entertainment, Koko had called it.

The afternoon could not have been any more pleasant, a direct contrast to your meeting’s elaborate schemings and agenda. Tonight, a Bonten warehouse housing hundreds of millions of yen’s worth of goods is supposed to be raided, based on corroborated intel; hence, the emergency meeting currently taking place at your own, cozy home, because next to the Shrine it’s apparently the most secret and least traceable accessible place somehow. (Which seems hard to believe, but then here you are.) Although Takeomi and his little brother Haruchiyo have already devised a plan of action—a truly, remarkable feat, this collaboration—Manjiro still insisted everyone be brought up to speed with the procedure just for good measure. Which is fair, even though a part of you suspects he really just wanted to hang out and relax in your airy living room.

At the moment, he is sprawled peacefully—much like a cat—on your cool granite floor with his arms folded under his head and a toss pillow for support, most likely listening to Kakucho explaining in front of him, sure, but with his eyes closed you can only hold on to faith.

There’s a break in the conversation and everyone decides to take five, temporarily breaking out of your loose circle. Ran has gone to smoke by your window while Mochi goes to feed the fishes in your aquarium again. Kaku is now crouching right by Manjiro’s head to hear the man’s words better while Takeomi and Koko continue to discuss something regarding the plans. You don’t see Sanzu right away but now he’s walking out of the kitchen, his eyes busily scanning his phone. You automatically extend your legs over the big couch you occupy to take up all the space, waiting for your cats to join you.

Sanzu doesn’t seem to see. Nor would’ve cared. The jerk doesn’t even look up as he props himself on the other end of the couch, crushing your legs behind him.

“Hey. There’s plenty of space over there.” You motion to the other sofa across you where Rindou is currently fixated on a lifestyle magazine—and, not for the first time today, you swear these guys only easily hopped along Manjiro’s lazy idea just so they could spend this hot, summer day anywhere else other than their own, smokey, hard-edged living spaces—himself seemingly unbothered and unwilling to quit his man-spreading over your spacious couch.

The temptation to whack the guy on the head hard with a throw pillow is very strong.

Sanzu humors you by sparing a glance at Rindou’s direction, and then back at you, his expression unreadable. “Doesn’t seem enough space to me.”

You give him a hard, dangerous look. “Well, that spot is for my cats,” in the same, grave seriousness as when you’re delivering the news of a compromised cargo. Meaning, you won’t hesitate to spill blood.

He now fully turns his head at you and smiles, just as sweetly as if he’d swiped an icing off of your perfectly made cake and you’re reprimanding him. “Your cats can sit on my lap, then,” he says, leaning all the way back on the seat and crushing your legs even further. There is no way in hell you’re going to budge.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my cats don’t like other people.” That subtle possessiveness over your cats is also something they’ve never seen before, and your tone makes even Sanzu pause and his eyes gleam. Kakucho somehow glances at your direction and you throw a sad expression his way upon noticing. “Not even Mr. Kaku with Kakucho-san—I’m sorry, Kaku,“ to which the eponymous Kakucho only answers back with a blank expression.

Sanzu’s little merry laughter grate your nerves, just as much as the cocky smile now adorning his face. “Oh, but you haven’t seen me with Mr. Kaku yet, huh?”

You stick your nose up as you maintain eye contact with him. “Then we shall see.”

As if on cue, Mr. Kaku saunters into your living room space, pausing briefly at the threshold where checkered tiles and granite flooring meet, as if quietly assessing how to navigate around all these…legs from out of nowhere. “Come here, my love.” You call out with one arm outstretched, your upper body leaning sideways almost to the floor, ready to scoop up the love of your life. Upon seeing your face, Mr. Kaku’s little feet pitter-patter across the floor, expertly avoiding the standing figures of Mochi and Koko, hopping over Manjiro’s belly…and then slowing down right at Sanzu’s feet. Against your expectations—and better wishes—he slinks his smooth body around Sanzu’s ankles, rubs his head on his bare heel and purrs. A purr you know so well.

A hand comes up to your mouth to hide your gasp of shock. From somewhere, someone snickers. Sanzu’s upper body slowly rocks from his suppressed cackling.

“Kaku, my man, my sweet boy, come’ere,” goes his sickly sweet command as he effortlessly picks your cat up to place on his lap. The cat stretches languidly atop his thighs—Koko’s Bonten pendant catching light in the process—and then, as if not yet content, crawls up Sanzu’s stomach to peck him on the side of his mouth.

You stare at the scene, horrified. “Kaku. Scratch his face. Scratch.”

“Teaching your cat violence? Such an evil cat-mom, you are.” With enough force of will, you manage to pull one leg out from behind him so you can kick a foot on his side, making him only laugh a little more heartily. With Mr. Kaku now having slinked right into your arms, you clutch your cat closer to your chest as if Sanzu’s about to take him away. Sanzu’s face settles on a victorious grin as he wordlessly joins both of your ankles in one hand, before shifting them towards you so now your legs are bent to allot enough space just for him.

On the couch opposite, Rindou has gone back to sinking behind his glossy spreads, shaking his head. Looks like Sanzu’s out to steal your cats, too.

#003647

The banker’s wife, now widow, stands atop the staircase landing, her eyes brimming red with tears and suppressed rage. Under the eyes of a wounded woman, you feel bare-naked and defenseless, as if she’s the one with the hidden knife and she knows just how to twist it.

From somewhere on your right, you hear the familiar release of Sanzu’s safety. You don’t think it’s safe enough to move a muscle in your body, so, instead, you let the stillness of the air carry your words.

“Sanzu, don’t.”

You hear him groan impatiently, but his voice comes out low and restrained. “We can end it here. Now.”

“They’ll know it’s us. If she dies here, all hell’ll break loose, you know it.” You’re right and he knows just as much as you do that nobody wants an all-out war. Sanzu doesn’t respond because he knows he doesn’t have to.

The scorned woman blinks once, but her rage doesn’t waver. When her lips part, your body instinctively steels itself for fire.

“You won’t die, no, I can’t let that happen. Death would be too kind for someone like you. But I…” she breathes, “I will hit you where it hurts.” Her eyes leave yours to flicker to Sanzu on the second-floor balcony—now you know—his gun once again cocked ready to fire. She looks at him for an agonizing stretch of ten seconds or sixty, and you only realize you’ve been holding your breath once she releases her gaze to fling it back to you.

“You will know what I mean when it happens, young lady. You will know. And you will feel so empty you won’t even have any tears to shed.

And then she’s gone, you let her leave, before you can even let her words settle on your bones.

#000027

Sanzu does not actually think you meant to call him ‘pretty,’ but he’s already had far too many shots to be thinking straight, and so he brings up that one time he thinks you did as he protests your answer—Ran, when asked who’s the ‘most handsome’ among your fellow executives?—as if to say, hey, remember this one time?

You’re probably not as sober yourself, he thinks, because you accept his version of the story right away and shrug. “Well, sure, Ran I think is handsome, but I think you’re pretty, too. They’re different, Sanzu. And what does it matter—?” He has no answer because although he’s been called pretty by more people than he could ever count in his life, he realizes he’s never actually cared as much as he does now.

Now that he thinks about it, it went a little something like this:

It was during a party to secure partnerships and there was that crime boss with the sharp canines who’d been eyeing you like a hawk, and Sanzu thought you looked great in your sheer floral-patterned dress and your hair flown loose that it was hard to blame the man’s flirtatious wink that accompanied his kissing of your hand. When he turned to Sanzu to shake his, he held on for a really long time, giving him that sickly candied smile that had Sanzu thinking, What. A fucker. We got business to attend to, old man, so move.

“I was told that Bonten had the deadliest and most merciless criminals in all of Japan. I didn’t know they got the prettiest face, too.”

Sanzu fixed him with a cold smile. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

The man’s leer broadened, at the same time he heard you cough softly into your hand. To his surprise—though, maybe also not really—the man bent over to whisper into his ear: “Married? Attached? Committed?” were all he said, and Sanzu resisted the urge to groan out loud, instead leveling him with a look.

Why couldn’t he just ask you himself like a normal person?

“Not at the moment, no.” His cheeks were starting to ache. “Aren’t you lucky?”

At this, the man had burst out laughing, the hearty, roaring kind that made Sanzu forget they were still holding hands. He felt your hand curl around his arm.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” you murmured, bringing him along.

As the two of you walked away, you loosened your hold and Sanzu finally expressed his annoyance. He bent his head low enough to make sure only you could hear him: “God, what a creep. You gotta stay away from that guy.” When you tilted your head to look up at him he felt your hair brush his lips. You looked doubtful.

“I don’t think he wants to have anything to do with me.”

He squinted at your obliviousness. “He literally just called you pretty in front of us.”

To which you responded with a coy, helpless grin, as you re-attached your hand to his arm. “Sanzu, I think he meant you. Though, it’s funny you automatically thought he meant me.”

#004782

“What a fucking pussy.” The words fly out of Mochi’s mouth faster than he realizes, prompting a few heads to glance his way.

Seated beside him, you don’t visibly react because it’s not as if you deem this unusual considering your line of work and the manner of most men you interact with on a daily basis, and you’re aware that Mochizuke is acting on pure emotions at the moment. Still, the ingrained bias in these phrases still makes you bristle every time.

Mochi clears his throat, suddenly looking somewhat sheepish. “Sorry, sorry, excuse me.” There was never a spoken rule or any of that sort and yet, he glances at you quickly and speaks in a low voice. “That just came out.”

You respond with a smile without saying anything, letting it slip because these are things you can’t fix yourself but you appreciate the gesture anyway. And yet, he continues:

“I mean, I like pussies.” It takes you a record-setting kind of quick-lightning speed to mentally figure out whether he feels you are both already at the stage of your co-Executive-ship wherein he’s comfortable enough to be sharing lewd jokes with you, or if he simply meant to appeal that he also likes the cat variety of pussies…the way that you do. It’s when you catch the exact moment the expression on his face drops, instantly looking like he wants to redact his confident declaration, that you realize: Mochizuke teetered somewhere between the two, but then his conviction wavered.

Which makes all the difference when the nature of the joke renders it such that its success or failure depends solely on its delivery.

Across the table, Sanzu and Rindou snort like a couple of middle-schoolers; Takeomi, like the grown-up that he is, only lowers his eyes with an (almost) imperceptible smile; and Ran spins around to your direction, grinning widely without saying a word.

Mochi, his cheeks burning bright red like a man on his tenth shot of vodka, turns to the two idiots with fire in his eyes: “Assholes—“

“Me too, Mochi, no worries.” You pleasantly cut him off, still looking unperturbed. This time, Ran chuckles.

Mochi is looking at you, narrowing his eyes, himself no longer sure which pussy he meant. Before he can clarify, Kakucho enters the room.

“Sorry, that was Mikey on the phone—what are we on now?”

“Pussies,” Ran, Rindou, and Sanzu answer in unison.

Takeomi simply shakes his head while Mochi balls a fist into an eye. Kaku’s blank face goes from Takeomi, and then to you, the two people he can normally trust to be a little less crazier than everyone else in the room. Normally. He sighs as he stares back at that sweet, unreadable smile on your face that Kaku never knows what to do with.

#112995

Koko arrives at the conference area to the scene of Sanzu being livid in the first open office. No not livid, as one might normally describe it, but considering whom he’s having a seemingly not so agreeable conversation with, he might as well be.

Nobody remembers a time when Sanzu ever raised his voice at you, not even Koko who’d been with the both of you the longest, and yet it’s here and he sees it, as he slows down his walking to take a peek inside the room: you, leaning against the table with your frigid arms folded around yourself, a storm brewing inside your usually calm eyes as Sanzu steadily paces in front. Neither of you notice him until he finally starts walking away.

“They can’t be seriously fighting,” the Bonten treasurer manages to joke as he pulls out a seat around the table, carefully placing his takeout coffee down. Rindou snorts from his perch by the window, and Ran only shakes his head as his eyes busily scan a thick pile of documents in his hands. It’s almost unfair how you both happen to disturb the peace in the rare time that Ran decides to actually be productive, he thinks, and figures you’ve both been at it for quite some time already and it was barely 10AM.

When you speak, your voice comes out an octave higher than anyone’s accustomed to hearing and they see your fuzzy silhouette standing up through the frosted glass wall. All three men automatically strain to get a better hearing.

“What I need is something that’ll completely knock me out—put me to sleep, dead unconscious. I told you that. This one,” you put something up in front of Sanzu’s face, “only made my body sleep. And when my nightmares began, my mind was completely, wide awake to see it all while my limbs were simply much too heavier to move.”

“Well, I already told you, you can’t take this,” now it’s Sanzu’s turn to gesture with whatever he has in his hands, “with this. Because it’s only gonna put you in a short-term coma and you’d still see whatever it is you see.” He waves an arm around. “Probably even much clearer ‘cause it spikes up your focus.”

“You didn’t tell me that last part.”

“Because you never mentioned anything about having nightmares! You just said you wanted something to put you to sleep!”

“God.” You curse under your breath as you pace away from Sanzu and face the opposite wall. “Well, then I can just increase the dosage of the first two you gave me last week, right? And then use them with three of the pink one, and then decrease the blue dos—“

“No.” Goes Sanzu’s firm, hard response, and Koko knows he’s not the only one glad enough to be not in that room.

You turn on your heels abruptly to face him again. “And why the hell not?”

“No, I won’t let you do that because mixing all that shit is gonna kill you, for god’s sake.”

None of them is seeing your expression but they can clearly tell how restrained and frustrated you already are from the way your silhouette backs again against the table. You raise a hand to your temple. For this round, the force that is you is stopped by an unmoving Sanzu.

“I just need to get one, good night’s sleep.” You sound so, so tired.

Sanzu lowers his voice. “How worse could it be?”

The silence comes abruptly and is almost as tense as when voices are raised, and just when Koko thinks you rather won’t answer back, you speak: “There was a woman who would always be hanging by her neck at the corner of my room. I was wide awake long enough to see her opening her eyes this time.”

“So the ghost in your dream is undead. Isn’t that how ghosts usually are?”

“Her eyes were sewn shut, Sanzu. They were. Sewn. Shut. Opened them for god knows how long and then stared back at me. And I couldn’t move.”

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Sanzu is raising both hands now, himself sounding alarmed at the sudden volume of your voice. Neither of you make any move for a short while until you speak once again, quietly this time. “You think you have a doctor I can consult for these? Maybe I’m just getting all the dosage wrong.”

The sound that Sanzu lets out is humorless and harsh. “You haven’t forgotten that these were all illegally acquired, right?”

“Well, then I’ll go find and threaten a doctor myself if I fucking have to, then.” The spike of cold, unrestrained anger in your voice seems to stun even Sanzu himself, that as you storm out of the room, it takes him half a second more before he comes walking out right after you.

“Fine!” He screams at your retreating form by the door, listens to the sound of your footsteps quieting down along with the front door finally slamming shut. He releases a loud, heavy sigh as he walks towards the table and harshly pulls out a seat, slumping his whole body down as he drops the small ziplock of colorful pills on the table. His face behind his hand is contorted in frustrated anger.

“Trouble in paradise, Sanzu?” Ran goes ahead and asks. “Not so much, I hope.”

“Oh, plenty,” Sanzu mutters. It’s obviously no joke being your informal dealer. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think she’s trying to kill herself.”

#099925

“So, anyway, since you think I’m so handsome, does that mean I got a chance with you?” You sigh before he can even finish his sentence. You really dug your own grave this time the moment you agreed to their 21 questions, did you? Just as much as they swore they’re gonna chew you inside out like a piece of gum candy. You turn your attention to Ran who is already slipping on that knowing, hooded smile of his, just as smoothly as you’ve slipped on yours—casual, unyielding, and matter-of-fact, a smile to level any man’s attempt at ruffling you.

“Well, not necessarily. I just said it so easily because it means next to nothing to me. I was only being honest.” Bonten’s Most Handsome is found clutching at his own heart like you’ve actually broken something inside of him while Rindou doubles over in a fit of laughter. Across you, Sanzu merely chortles in amusement, still a little amazed by Ran’s bold question, but also now a little more clearheaded than he was moments ago.

“Hey.” You chuckle at Ran’s mock despair. “I think I’d have better reasons to like you beyond just mere looks, you know?” To which his ears perk up and his face brightens once again. “Okay, that sounds like bullshit, but you know what I mean.”

“No, no, please, tell me more.” You instantly roll your eyes at his quick recovery and his shameless fishing for validation. By this time, Rindou has recovered himself, too, clearing his throat once as he taps on the glass table softly to recapture your attention.

“Okay, so what’s a man gotta do in order to win you over? Or what’s he gotta be like to, you know, to get you to notice him?”

You breathe out a light, airy laugh. “Rindou, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re trying to woo me.” He grins against the hand propped against his chin, like a child caught stealing out of the cookie jar against his better judgment. “First of all, I hope any serious guy wouldn’t even try. I’m more compelled to seek out what’s wrong about something when I’m being forced to buy into what’s good about it. I guess that comes with having to be constantly scrutinizing people, you get what I mean, right?”

“Ah-huh.”

“Second…I don’t actually know if I have an answer to that.” You squint unseeingly at your whiskey glass. “I just know it when I see it, I suppose. I just know the things I don’t like, things I can’t accept.”

“Like when a guy tries to win ya over by telling you how pretty you are.”

You pause to think. “Yeah, sure, that’s one.”

“So.” Ran leans to rest his elbows on his knees. “Would it mean nothing to you if a guy constantly showers you with…appreciation of your beauty?”

“Please, it likely means nothing if they got an ulterior motive. I might appreciate the gesture, but also.” You pause briefly to think. “I imagine, if a guy liked me first and foremost for my appearance, then he’d probably lose interest in me much sooner as we grow older.” A smile that none of them can discern. “Once I turn thirty-five even. Most likely. Most guys go for younger girls anyway. It’s shit but I can’t change that.”

“Heeey, a guy would have way more reasons to like you beyond your appearance, too, you know?”

You shake your head, still with that pleasant, perceptive look in your eyes that always see more than they do. “Not much to make anyone stay for that long, Ran. I promise you that.”

That one. That one Sanzu wants to protest, too, except his hand goes on to drown out his words instead with another tip of his glass.

“Alright. I got another one.” Rindou is still smiling so loosely, himself unruly and unyielding. “So who among us has even the slightest chance with you, then?”

A question that startles not only you, but Sanzu, though you more visibly. The pained expression in your eyes—though fleeting—was enough to draw both brothers much closer in, and it’s these moments that you always feel so half-tempted to actually wield your power and have them thrown into the proverbial pits. Although you doubt they’d even get the hint.

“I—“ you put up both hands at their obvious teasing smiles, “—am not going to answer that question, and why the hell are you two so fucking enthusiastic about my dating prospects, anyway? And why am I the only one answering these questions—?”

#008564

“So there’s that.”

You’ve barely touched your own food when you look up at him to be sure. “That was it?” Sanzu had promised he’ll give you a complete rundown of his supposed 4-day operation and you haven’t even gotten to the main course yet.

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p.’ You wait for him to take a sip from his drink. Of course, his tasks are never just that, but, then again, he only tells you the things he discerns really necessary for you to know. “Told you there’s nothing much to report.” He did say that, too.

It’s been a while since the two of you ate out, just like this, and he finds himself paying more attention to the soft chimes of your laughter from across the table. Like it’s the first time he’s hearing you laugh, or that perhaps this might be the last time, as if the two of you weren’t just here in the same booth, in the same restaurant, two months ago—or has it been three?—relaying another report, or some sort of vital news or whatever it was that turned another work dinner to casual catching up and just plain old Not Working, like how it always happens, even though there’s often hardly anything you don’t know about what goes on in each other’s days.

Still, the conversation always lasts way late into the night, right up until the restaurant’s manager has to very kindly (and nervously) remind you that it’s closing time. Sanzu thinks that if it weren’t for you, the man would’ve already gotten one of his hands or his head cut off a long time ago. Around you, though, he somehow affords everyone else a little more time to live.

Unless they got both hands around your neck, of course. In which case, the whole city burns down.

This time, he observes the way you purse your lips into a grin. “Well and good. I’ve had enough thinking about work for today, I think. It’s nice to breathe, for a sec.”

He sighs, letting his head fall back against the plush seats and, for the first time today, allowing his whole body to loosen up and his muscles to untangle, his nerves to temper and settle against the backdrop of city noise and muted voices. He watches beneath a heavy set of lashes the way you lean forward against the window, face open and unguarded as you stare out. He’d look out as well to try to see whatever it is that’s making your lips tug at the corners, but for now, he thinks he prefers catching the soft lights bouncing off your eyes instead. In the stillness of the minute, he thinks he’s able to see the rise and fall of your breathing.

Sanzu lets himself smile in secret.

“Yeah, let’s not talk about work,” he says under his breath.

chapter 13 >

Relevant Q’s #snz_songs 💌

tag: @yukihime-mikeys-girl 💖

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #*evil laughter*#i know I said this would have fluff #but it turned into humor oops #yes this will be the best trope #enemies to friends to lovers

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nobodyfamousposts · 3 years

Text

My-Crack-ulous: Aku-Maid

In which I am a horrible person...

No seriously. Don’t read this.

For @mermain123, for bringing up the cursed image that started this mess in the first place.

Mermain: i said i was suffering

Mermain: i didn't want you to make the internet suffer

Me: That sounds like the internet’s problem.

Also for @bloody-writes. You know why... ; )

_________________________

Hawk Moth was a supervillain who had been terrorizing Paris for the better part of two years.

But no one could really argue that not all of his ideas have been good. Or well thought out. Or in any way sensible even.

Like the time he akumatized a baby.

Or the time he akumatized a girl to transform people into exact replicas of herself.

Or the fact he keeps akumatizing Mr. Ramier for going on 29 times at this point…

Or the other time he akumatized a baby…

Times that he destroyed Paris. Times that he nearly destroyed the world. Times that he gave people powers that were completely contradictory to the goals of getting the Miraculous he was after by erasing the heroes from existence or transforming them in ways that made the Miraculous inaccessible.

But none of his akumatizations had ever gotten him as much hate, caused as much misery, were were ultimately as pointless as this most recent incident.

Aku-maid.

It was known the instant she was akumatized. As soon as she was transformed, a wave of power enveloped the city. And within that wave, half of the people of Paris were transformed as well.

…the male half.

Her power was to transform all the men of Paris. She didn’t even have a weapon or attack that did it, it just happened almost instantaneously. All men suddenly found themselves changed.

Or rather, their outfits…

“Ah!”

“What the hell—!?”

“I can’t get it off!”

One by one, every male in Paris suddenly found themselves in a much different state of attire. What had just been a normal day full of various styles and appearances had all suddenly become very…frilly.

“WHY AM I A MAID?!”

Much as implied her namesake, the akuma’s power involved transforming whatever any man was wearing into some variation of a maid outfit.

Every man.

All over Paris.

From Andre Bourgeois, who has refused to leave his office to make an official statement…

“ANDRE!” Audrey shouted, banging on the door. “Get out here this instant!”

“But, honey, I can’t be seen like this!”

To Roger Raincomprix, who has tried to continue his normal duties despite the…change of uniform…

“Stop in the name of the law!” Roger shouted, reaching into his pockets in an automatic reaction to try to get his handcuffs. While the dress he was wearing did still have pockets, the only item they procured was a cleaning rag, which was notably less threatening as the suspect in question stared for a moment before deciding to take off.

“HEY!”

And yes, even to…

“I’m a Macrophage!” Adrien gushed happily as he lifted his lengthy skirt to give a twirl.

…even to Adrien Agreste, who was apparently the only one to find anything pleasant about the current crisis.

Nino stared.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“I’ve always wanted to cosplay!”

Nino, having been long-since exposed to his friend’s deep love for anime in its many forms, at least knew what a Macrophage was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel there was something odd about the way Adrien took to the long pale dress and cap.

Kim rested a hand on Nino’s shoulder. “Just let the guy enjoy this.”

“At least somebody is.” Nathaniel muttered bitterly as he tried to hide as behind his sketchbook. It was a futile attempt, of course, as he at most only covered his face, leaving the red dress, white apron with pockets, and knee-high boots on full display.

“I don’t understand how he can.” Max complained. He tugged at his own skirt in vain, looking at Adrien’s ankle-length ensemble enviously. The skirt was much shorter than he would have liked—reaching a couple inches above his thigh and almost seemed to be defying gravity to stay that way despite his attempts to get it to either flatten or otherwise lower. “I question the design choices.”

“But you look just like Misaki from Maid Sama! And Nathaniel looks like Lizbeth!” Adrien insisted. “It’s totally a cosplay!”

Max just stared incredulously. He was wearing a black dress with puffy sleeves that tapered off just shy of his elbow, white apron, a cap, and thigh-high black stockings and knee-high boots, it seemed Adrien did have a point.

Max, in all fairness, didn’t particularly care in favor of the problems that came with suddenly finding himself in a short dress, heels, and a corset.

“I just can’t peg where Kim or Nino’s outfits are from.” He continued, studying the outfits in question contemplatively. “But give me a little time! It’ll come to me!”

The boys had been having an afternoon hangout session in the park. No girls. No teachers. No Gabriel Agreste or bodyguards to whisk certain teen models away. It was supposed to be a normal non-drama-filled day.

…which was naturally when it became something less than normal and certainly more than drama-filled.

“I think I get why girls complain about this sort of thing now.” Kim said, looking at his shoes. “These heels are kind of uncomfortable…”

“Are you sure it’s the heels and not the flippers?” Nino asked, annoyed.

Sure enough, Kim was wearing flipper-heels. They were black and also had black ankle straps with a little bow on each. This strange footwear did seem to go with Kim’s talent in swimming, which was also emphasized by the ruffle maid swimsuit they matched with.

“Nah, it’s definitely the heels.” Kim insisted.

So this was what their all-boys’ afternoon had come to.

Kim was wobbling on unsteady heels.

Nathaniel groaned and kept his ever reddening face covered.

Max was questioning where they could procure jackets. Long jackets.

Adrien was giggling to himself and asking if they could do a full Cells at Work group cosplay.

And Nino paled, suddenly realizing something.

"Guys. Guys, we have to hide!"

"Why?" Kim asked. "It's annoying, but this akuma doesn't seem really dangerous."

"No, you don't get it!" Nino hissed. "If Alya catches us, we will NEVER live this down!"

Nathaniel looked over the edge of his sketchbook. “Alya wouldn’t actually post pictures of us to the Ladyblog, would she?”

A long pause followed.

The boys paled.

Except for Adrien, who turned to them with a gasp of excitement. “Do you think she would? We could do a group picture!”

All the other boys paled even more, looking downright ill.

And immediately took off running.

Or at least as well as they could with heels. None of them made it very far without tripping, stumbling, or simply struggling to stay upright as they still tried to move away from the area as quickly as the heels would allow.

“But what’s wrong with—?”

“JUST RUN, ADRIEN!”

“Who thought maid outfits with high heels was a good idea?! How can anyone be expected to clean in these things?

“I will never draw high heels on a super heroine again.”

“I can’t breathe! Who created corsets?! What objective does this achieve besides crushing one’s lungs?”

Nino groaned, still running. “I hope Hawk Moth is suffering as much as we are!”

_____________________

If Nino Lahiffe had the ability to break the fourth wall and peer into the events happening outside of his immediate vicinity, he would be happy to find this was actually the case.

And he would laugh.

Oh, how he would laugh.

“Sir…?”

“Don’t.” Came the dark growl from a very unhappy supervillain. “Don’t say anything, Nathalie..."

This was an akuma that impacted every male in Paris. Every male.

…even to Hawk Moth, himself.

“Why did this happen?”

It would appear that even Hawk Moth was not immune to Aku-Maid’s power as he had been similarly transformed. And unfortunately, due to the change, he could no longer access his Miraculous. The Butterfly broach had disappeared, having been transformed along with his outfit.

And his outfit had…actually left much to be desired.

Which was truthfully just a nice way of saying it was ugly.

Really, really ugly.

Normally the picture of stoicism, Nathalie had to pretend to cough to avoid reacting.

“Can’t you order the akuma to undo it?” She eventually was able to ask.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes in concentration. “No. It’s no good. I’ve lost the link!”

His eyes widened and he clutched his chest in a panic.

“Where is the Miraculous?!” Hawk Moth demanded, trying—and failing to pull at the tasteless dress. But as others across the city had already discovered, the clothes were magic and would not be removed or displaced. Not even the frock or the cap he now wore.

“Sir, you were transformed when you changed. It looks like the Butterfly Miraculous was transformed along with you.”

He froze, eyes widening in horror. “But that’s—”

He grasped at the empty place on his chest. Where once had been his lapel and pin now only had ruffles and a leathery texture. His mask remained in place, though it was now fully black except for the openings around his eyes and mouth, which were bordered with a lighter grey color. The material and outfit overall had a shine to it that could be found on any wetsuit.

To put it nicely: he looked atrocious.

To put it bluntly: he looked like some sort of BDSM role-player with a maid kink.

So it was fortunate, perhaps, that no one else in Paris would have to be subject to the sight.

Except Nathalie. Who was probably going to have nightmares.

Or a coronary from the laughter she was trying to hold back.

It was admittedly a bit hard to tell.

But it seemed she was handling the situation a bit better than Hawk Moth, despite the fact that the man was currently unable to see himself or the full extent of the monstrosity he now wore.

…this was probably for the best. Given the man’s fashion sense, there was really no telling whether he would be horrified or inspired, and nobody would want to find out.

“I can’t contact the akuma! And I can’t call it back!”

He moaned, covering his…already covered face with his hands. “I’ll never be taken seriously again!”

Nathalie resolutely held back from pointing out he was barely being taken seriously now.

“It’s…not that bad?” She tried. Not very well, but she tried.

Hawk Moth clutched his head in horror. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir can stop this akuma, we’re doomed!”

“Sir, it’s just an akuma that puts men in maid outfits. It’s really not that bad.”

“DOOOOOOMED!!!”

__________________________

The akuma, for her part, was unaware of her benefactor’s misery, too busy enjoying the abject misery of everyone else around her.

Nobody knew just what had set the girl off to get her akumatized in the first place. Her comments about men being “the eye-candy now” suggested an argument. The maid outfits involved suggested what the topic of the argument had been regarding.

To be honest, nobody had actually realized she was the akuma responsible. She did appear fairly normal by akuma terms, dressed in a seemingly authentic Victorian era dress more befitting as an authentic Lady’s Maid compared the frillier, lacier varieties that the men around her had suddenly found themselves in. What would normally have gotten her a few odds looks was mostly ignored in the face of the sudden change. Few even took notice of her dark purple skin or black hair. Or the fan in her hand.

“THAT’S RIGHT! SEE HOW YOU LIKE BEING OBJECTIFIED!”

The yelling…was a bit harder to miss.

It was the first thing that drew the attention of the three girls settled at the cafe.

The second thing was the various cries of horror as several of the men around them suddenly discovered their state of dress transformed into…well…dresses. Of a variety that made the little cafe appear more like a maid cafe than anything.

The third thing was the appearance of a familiar face running down the road, holding up his long white dress to make running easier as he looked for a place to hide.

Marinette stared.

“ADRIEN?!”

Adrien Agreste was running around in a long white and pale cream Victorian-era dress and cap, looking like Cinderella running from the ball. Except a maid.

A quick glance to her companions showed that both Alya and Kagami were similarly staring in befuddlement, so this was neither her imagination or a fever dream.

“Adrien? What’s going on?” Alya asked for everyone.

“It’s an akuma!” He replied, quickly. “She’s putting everybody into cosplay!”

“…cosplay?”

“Yeah!”

“…everybody?”

He paused, glancing around. “Well…all the guys, I think?”

Marinette stared.

“…Just that?” Alya asked, thankfully taking over while Marinette’s brain started to become aware that this WAS Adrien she was talking to. “She’s not doing anything else besides putting guys into…‘cosplays’?”

He blinked in confusion. “I…think so?”

“She isn’t…I don’t know…commanding you or anything?”

“Well, she hasn’t yet. Which, really, isn’t so bad for an akuma if you think about it.” He said with a frown before he noticed the strange look on Kagami’s face. “Kagami, are you okay?”

Kagami made a strangled sound.

“Marinette?”

Marinette pretended to choke on a drink from an empty glass to avoid speaking.

“Can I add to your order?” The waiter came by, seeming unconcerned by the ruckus or the act that he was now wearing a rather cutesy maid outfit the likes of which would be seen in a maid cafe in Japan.

“You don’t seem put off by this.” Alya pointed out, noting his relatively unfazed attitude compared to the panicking of the other men around them…or the gushing from Adrien.

The waiter took it in stride.

“It’s okay.” He replied blankly. “I’m already dead inside.”

“Oh.”

He turned to Kagami. “Do you need anything else, Miss?”

Kagami was still staring at Adrien, blushing furiously.

“I think I have a problem.”

“You mean a kink?”

“A. Problem.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Story of my life.” The waiter replied as he refilled her glass of water, either unaware or uncaring of the specific nature of her trouble.

Alya gasped in sudden realization. “Wait! If this is happening here then…” She turned to Adrien. “Where were Nino and the boys?” He blinked, curious. “Oh, they decided to head home. Why?”

An almost sinister smirk formed on Alya’s face. One that would have anyone it was directed at cowering in fear. And strong enough to be felt from several blocks away.

Unbeknownst to them, Nino felt that smirk like a trail of cold fingers down his back, and promptly threw himself into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

As if she sensed this, Alya slammed several bills on the table and dashed out the door.

“GOTTA GO!”

Realizing an akuma was about, Marinette was right on her heels. She found a nearby alleyway and immediately prepared to transform and face this latest threat.

“Oh my god. OH MY GOD.” She broke down, letting out the laughter she’d been trying so hard to hold in. “He’s a dork! The boy I’m crushing on is a complete DORK who is in to cosplaying! He thinks maid outfits are COSPLAY!”

…or she would be.

“And here I’ve been driving myself nuts with anxiety over just asking him out and he doesn’t even—”

Any minute now…

“Marinette!” Tikki hissed. “You need to stop the akuma!”

“Can’t I just take a picture first?”

“MARINETTE!”

“Oh fine…”

_____________________

Luka didn’t realize anything had happened. He felt a bit off balanced for a moment, and a bit colder, but attributed that to being on the Liberty. So he simply shifted his stance to be a bit more steady and continued playing. It wasn’t until the drum stopped that he realized something was actually wrong.

The look of shock from Mylene and the following shriek from Ivan cemented it.

He spun around, not sure what could have elicited such a cry from his fellow bandmate. And at first, he couldn’t really tell what had happened. Ivan was crouched behind the drum set, covering his face with his hands and trembling in what appeared to be mortification.

Then he noticed the mobcap on Ivan’s head, which he was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. And Ivan’s shirt seemed distinctly…fluffier and frillier than he remembered seeing a few minutes ago. He tried to move closer to offer help, only for his own balance to be off. And when he looked down…

Oh.

The dress was new.

As were the stockings.

And the notably thinner and sleeker heels on his boots.

He hummed to himself, considering the change.

“Akuma?” Juleka asked him.

“Most likely.” He replied.

Mylene had rushed up to their practice stage and to Ivan’s side, even as he moaned for her to not look at him. The poor guy was completely red in embarrassment. Seeing how upset he was, the other three had backed away, leaving Mylene to try to help her boyfriend.

“Luka, are you okay?” Rose asked worriedly, trying to respect Ivan’s need for space while also checking in on their other effected bandmate.

“I’m fine. It was just a surprise at first.” He replied.

It wasn’t every day that you suddenly found yourself in a maid outfit, after all. It was a simple outfit. White off the shoulder puffy sleeves with black frills. A black tube skirt. White apron. And…he reached to his neck where a weight was, feeling a choker.

Huh…

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Honestly, he could be in worse.

Rose seemed surprised at that. “Really? Even with those shoes?”

He looked down at the shoes in question. The boots were his style—surprisingly, given it was an akuma. The higher heels were definitely different from his norm, and clearly what Rose was referring to. In any other circumstances, she would be right.

But...

Luka smiled, shifting his stance and resting a hand on his hip. “Well, someone had to teach Jules to walk in heels. And I couldn’t show her if I didn’t know how myself.

Juleka huffed. “Don’t say that like you didn’t enjoy playing dress up.”

Luka merely curtsied, not only showing off more of his slightly ripped and punk-looking fishnet stockings, but almost proudly displaying his ability to move fluently in heels.

Rose appropriately “oo-ed” and “aah-ed” at his display. Juleka merely shook her head and smiled. Ivan was still recovering from his panic attack and had resolutely refused to come out from behind the drums, despite Mylene’s reassurances.

“So it has to be an akuma, right?” Rose asked.

“If it is, I want a picture or two, at least.” Juleka muttered as she admired Luka’s outfit, mumbling about commissioning Marinette to recreate it in her size. She hadn’t known maids could come in this style.

Mylene nodded from her place at Ivan’s side. “Though it seems rather fortunate if this is all the akuma is doing.”

“We don’t know if that is it, though.” Luka warned. “For all we know, there could be some other ability she has if she catches us. It would probably be safer if we hid out inside until this is over.”

The others agreed. And Anarka, bless her soul, actually came up with a large blanket for Ivan to wrap himself in to preserve his dignity. Then she and Mylene helped the taller teen to safely relocate to inside. Much like Luka, Ivan’s shoes had changed, but he was substantially less able to maneuver in them. And no amount of effort or force on his part could seem to separate the heels from his feet.

Once he and the others were inside, Luka moved to follow. He hesitated, however, at the sound of something landing behind him.

“Viperion? We’ll need your help.”

He turned to see Ladybug standing tall. And was that perhaps a hint of blush on her face?

Oh.

A shame.

It looked like Juleka wouldn’t be getting her pictures, after all...

_____________________

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

He shuddered, backing away from the door as far as possible.

“Ninoooooo…”

It was a fight for survival.

“C’mon, Nino. Just open the door.”

The survival of his dignity, but still!

He’d lost track of the others and immediately rushed home and to the safety of his room. His room, which he could lock and hide away in until this all blew over.

“I have a key!” Came Chris’s voice. “Somewhere…”

“Give it and I won’t take any pictures of you.”

“Deal!”

His room, which his traitorous little brother was willing to allow the enemy entry into.

Under any normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be this desperate. But if Alya caught him like this…

Black dress. Puffy at the shoulder, sleeves that extended to his wrists and were bound by white cuffs. A white smock tied back with a white ribbon. White bow at the neck and white frills along the bottom of the dress?

Oh yeah…Alya would never let this go…

He knew he shouldn’t have gotten into all those anime Adrien pushed him into! So what if the maids were cute? And sure, he’d admit he's had a thought or two of Alya in such attire...

But how was he supposed to know Alya had such thoughts as well? And in the complete opposite direction! Clearly this was the akuma’s magic punishing him!

Nino looked to his window.

It would be a long fall, but it was his only escape.

But would the broken legs be worth it when Alya would soon figure out what he did and be able to catch up to him easily?

Maybe he could try to climb up instead…but in these heels? It was suicide!

“Fufufu!”

…screw it.

He opened up his window, only to meet a new pair of eyes.

Ladybug stared in surprise from her place at his windowsill, a certain box in hand.

“…hi?”

“Oh thank god!” He exclaimed. He took her by her shoulders, half leaning out and half pulling her in. “Alya’s insisting on taking pictures! Please tell me you have my Miraculous with you!”

“Actually, about that—”

“I don’t care! I’ll do anything! Just please—SAVE ME!”

Ladybug looked back behind her to a distant rooftop and the other allies she’d left behind.

The sound of a key jingling could be heard and Nino stared up at her, pleadingly.

Well, she could never resist the eyes…

By the time they’d gotten the door open, the room was empty.

Nino was gone.

_____________________

Six heroes stood assembled.

Ladybug.

Chat Noir.

Carapace.

Viperion.

King Monkey.

Pegasus.

Six heroes.

Five of whom were male.

And…still wearing some semblance of feminine maid-like outfits.

Ladybug wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or worried.

“What the hell?! I thought the Miraculous were supposed to change us into our hero suits?” Nino groused.

Contrary to his hopes and expectations, using the Miraculous had not transformed him into his normal Carapace look, but had rather simply given him a different outfit. The dress itself was green and had a turtle shell pattern, while the apron and waist belts were a brown color. The bowknot around his neck was a dark green and a brown to match the apron. He wore stockings. And to his very limited relief, his shoes were flats instead of heels.

“Well, at least this skirt is longer.” Pegasus said, now wearing a dark brown blouse and bicycle skirt. The skirt went to just above his ankles, for which he was grateful. But this seemed to be countered by the increase of height to his heels.

Plus no corset. The outfit was still fit tightly and not very comfortable, but at least he could breathe now.

“Though I believe we’re getting away from maid-wear now.” Chat said, conversationally.

Pegasus gave him a flat look. “I’m not complaining.”

If Chat had witnessed his earlier ensemble, surely he would understand.

King Monkey, for his part, seemed somewhat appeased with his Miraculous suit. It was a notably more Eastern style of dress, appearing more like robes worn by palace servants. He wore a light brown waistcoat with wide sleeves over a blouse and a wrap-around skirt. It looked heavy, but Kim seemed to have no trouble with it. Maybe it was made of a lighter material…?

And Viperion’s dress was different in style as well. Whereas his maid outfit as Luka had been more punk, this was more sleek. Wearing a green sleeveless dress and white smock, as well as what appeared to be a green corset. The dress had a slit at the sides, giving more maneuverability for his legs…as well as more show, given the appearance of a garter belt and stockings. His shoes were high heeled but including a beautiful snake design that wrapped around his ankles. To finish it off, rather than remain bare, his arms were covered in what appeared to be loose green sleeves that started at his elbows and extended to his wrists.

…maybe a picture or two wouldn’t hurt? Or three? Because the amount of details on these outfits were amazing and she was just brimming with ideas now…

Ladybug broke out of her musings when someone tugged on her shoulder to get her attention.

It was Chat. Chat who, much like the other heroes, as dressed in a fantastical outfit. Though a maid outfit, it was definitely more cat-themed with a giant paw-like gloves covering his hands, a paw print on his apron, and bow and bell on his tail which rang as he shifted.

What material was that made of, anyway? She kind of wanted to give it a feel and see if she could find something to compare it to. Maybe a quick sketch?

Oh. Right.

Akuma.

Maybe if she was lucky, they could finish this quickly so she could rush back home and take notes while she still had the ideas bouncing in her brain.

…maybe someone would have gotten pictures by then…?

“Ladybug?” Chat whispered, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes?”

Chat frowned in concern. “Is the Guardian okay with this?”

Ladybug froze.

“PSST! Ladybug!” Came a voice from a nearby rooftop, drawing her attention.

“Master Fu?”

“Ladybug! Here’s the Miracle Box. Take as many allies as you can and resolve this as soon as possible!”

“Master? Are…you hiding in a box?”

“No questions! Just go!”

“…he’s fine.”

Chat seemed uncertain, but decided not to pry.

“Let’s just split up and find the akuma.” Ladybug said. “But don’t engage until we’re all together!”

With that, the six split into three groups, with Chat and Carapace going one way and King Monkey and Pegasus going another, leaving Ladybug and Viperion searching together with the former trying not to get caught stealing peeks at the latter.

“Is something wrong?” He asked with a smile.

…trying. The key word was trying not to get caught.

“No! Nothing!” She replied quickly. “I’m just…surprised that you can still move so quickly in those heels.”

“I’ve had practice.” He explained, still smiling. He even lifted one leg behind him, managing to stand perfectly balanced even on one leg in heels.

“I…see.”

Part of her wanted very much to laugh. It was the same part that had found this entire day ridiculous. The other part of her was her inner artist at work and really wanted to make a few sketches inspired from the presented outfits. Like Viperion’s sleeves…and those shoes with a snake coil wrapping around the ankle…

“Ladybug!”

Gaah! Focus!

She turned towards the shout to find King Monkey and Pegasus stumbling towards her.

Her fingers twitched. She ignored it.

“We found the akuma.” King Monkey reported. “She doesn’t seem to be doing anything. Just…kind or roaming around.”

“And laughing.” Pegasus added bitterly. “She appears to be doing a lot of that.”

“How’s THAT for ‘doll them up’?” Came a shout from street level. “HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, HUH?!”

As if on cue…

Ladybug and the others peeked over the edge of the roof.

“Has she displayed any other powers?” She asked.

“No.” Pegasus replied. “From what we could see, her power has already been activated to…obvious effect.” He hesitated, resolutely avoiding mentioning his new outfit or the indignity he’d already suffered. “She has only been laughing. And tripping the occasional person while searching for someone in particular—possibly the one responsible for her ire.”

Ladybug nodded. “At least she’s distracted and doesn’t know we’re here. We just need a plan of attack before we try to fight her.”

“No problem!” King Monkey said with a grin as he reached for his weapon. “We can just do a head on attack with our weapons and—”

They stared.

In place of his staff was a broom. A normal cleaning broom.

They sent cautious glances to each other before they checked their own inventory.

Said inventory consisted of a broom, a bucket, and a feather duster.

“I believe that constitutes as a problem.” Pegasus stated worriedly.

“That’s no fair!” King Monkey exclaimed. “Adrien was able to summon a machete!”

Ladybug blanched at that. “A what?!”

Pegasus pushed up his glasses. “I believe it’s a component of his…‘cosplay’?”

“Pfft!” Ladybug covered her mouth with her hand.

“Ladybug?”

“I-it’s nothing!” She replied hurriedly.

Viperion raised his eyebrow at her but didn’t comment.

King Monkey at least seemed to take it in stride.

“Now we just need a plan for attack!”

“With what?!” Pegasus questioned, waving the feather duster in frustration. “Our weapons don’t work!”

“More like our weapons aren’t actually weapons.” Viperion said, considering his bucket.

“I could smack her.” King Monkey offered, holding up his broom. “Maybe your feather duster has dust on it and could make her sneeze?”

Pegasus gave him a flat look.

“I think the broom is the best weapon we have right now.”

“Don’t knock a bucket!” King Monkey commanded, resolutely. “I got one stick on my head one time and it took hours to get it off! Buckets are evil, man!”

Pegasus sighed and rubbed his head. “It concerns me that you’re the second person I know whom that has happened to.”

Ladybug coughed, discretely trying to draw attention off that particular subject lest identities be at risk. “Anyway, I think I have a plan...”

______________________

To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult of an akuma. Especially not with six of them teaming up against it.

Akumaid truly see to have no ability other than the initial one of transforming what any male in Paris was wearing into something embarrassing...unless you were Adrien, apparently. Aside from that, she showed no other power—neither over the clothes themselves or the people wearing them. Well, she wasn’t controlling any of the victims or shrinking the clothing to choke them at any rate...which if you think about it, was rather lame for an akuma in the power department.

The only real disadvantage in battle came in the difficulty the boys had moving freely in their current outfits. And the afore noted lack of proper weaponry.

Their advantage of surprising was ruined by Chat’s bell ringing before they could ambush her, and both Carapace and Pegasus losing balance with their heels and falling over. King Monkey’s outfit, while longer, also meant more fabric to flap about and resist his movements regardless of how light it may have been, so he wasn’t able to get a hit in fast enough before the akuma turned on him and knocked him away.

Chat was able to get a hit in though.

With his…Kitty Wand…

“THIS IS MAGICAL PUNISHMENT!” He shouted as he smacked the akuma over the head.

“Chat. Chat no. Chat why?”

And Ladybug had hopelessly lost her composure by this point and was laughing. Just laughing. Laughing so hard she was crying actual tears as she smacked her own thigh in her struggle to breathe. Viperion was trying to help her stay standing, keeping an arm around her to support her as she half leaned and half chuckled tears into his chest.

“What’s going on? Does the akuma have some power over Ladybug, too?” King Monkey asked.

…

Viperion sighed.

“Sure. Something to that effect.”

Ladybug wheezed.

“LADYBUG!”

“Lu-haha-lucky haha-charm!”

It said something when her own Lucky Charm magicked up a paper bag. With Ladybug still victim to her fit of giggles, Viperion simply put the bag over her face and had her try to breathe.

“A paper bag doesn’t help with out of control laughing.” Pegasus noted as he forced himself to his feet.

“Do you want to try to figure out the Lucky Charm?” Viperion bit out in annoyance, Ladybug still shaking in his arms.

Pegasus coughed and backed away. “No, thank you.”

Ladybug let out another giggle.

“All right, enough! I’ll stop her!” Carapace shouted, reaching for his back. “With my…serving plate.”

His shield.

His precious shield was gone.

“…Carapace?” Ladybug asked.

The newly rendered Turtle Maid sighed and simply threw the plate as he had his shield, not expecting much.

…the plate slice flew through the air at a surprising speed, but missed the akuma entirely. Instead, it sailed past her, hitting a light post.

Ladybug had expected it to bounce, but instead there was a sound of shredding metal as the serving plate actually tore through the lamp post and into the concrete itself.

The lamp post, now detached, tilted and fell over—conveniently on top of the akuma before she had the time to realize what was happening and move out of the way.

SLAM!

It fell on top of her and she hit the ground.

“Huzzah?” Kim asked.

“Well…that’s one way to defeat an akuma.” Pegasus marveled.

“Great. Now can we fix this already?” Carapace asked impatiently. If they took too much longer, someone was bound to catch them.

That someone would probably be Alya.

And that was the last thing he wanted at this point.

“But I kind of wanted to make a sketch at least…” Ladybug muttered to herself, holding the paper bag Charm to her chest.

“LADYBUG!”

She waved her hands insistently. “I’m on it!”

But she could dream…

“MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

It was with some disappointment that the Miraculous Cure wiped away the outfits of the other heroes, returning them to their original costumes.

“OH THANK GOD!”

“That was…horrible…”

“Corsets were invented as a torture method, I swear…”

“Shieldy!” Carapace exclaimed, hugging the shield in relief. “Never leave me again!”

“You okay now, Ladybug?” Chat asked her in worry.

“I’m fine.” She said, even though she wasn’t really. She felt like she’d missed a chance, even if it was for the greater good. But it would have been an abuse of her power to be taking pictures of the guys in that state and she already felt bad enough for breaking down laughing in the middle of the fight.

In that moment, however, the loveliness of ladybugs that made up the Cure returned from their task of restoring Paris to flow over Ladybug herself before vanishing, leaving her holding an envelope in their wake. Curious, she opened the envelope…

She gasped.

Inside were a multitude of photos of the other heroes. From different angles. In different positions. All of them in their new outfits.

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek to keep from responding and drawing attention to herself.

…Thank you, Tikki.

Best. Kwami. Ever. “Ladybug…” Carapace said in growing wariness. “What is that?”

“Nothing!”

“Ladybug. That better not be what I think it is…”

She shoved the photos back in the envelope.

“It’s nothing at all!”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Noticing the stand off, the others approached as well.

“It was just something I was missing, yeah.”

“Then let us see it.”

“Can’t.” She replied, clutching the envelope to her chest. “It’s…Ladybug stuff.”

“Hand it over. Right now!”

"NOOO! THESE ARE FOR THE FUTURE OF FASHIOOOON!”

“GIVE US THE PHOTOS!”

“Wait—did she get any of all of us in a group cosplay pic?”

“NOT NOW, CHAT!”

Unfortunately, that small distraction was all she needed to get away.

Viperion, the only one having been pretty nonchalant this whole time, simply watched her leave and the others shout after her.

“…isn’t she going to take our Miraculous back?”

_________________________

Angela sighed, already dreading what was to come.

It was a humiliating end to an already humiliating week as the former akuma victim had been forced to return to her job to go over the updates for the new Ladybug game with the rest of her team.

Said updates were apparently to include maid outfits for the female heroes thanks to one particular coworker who had decided to work on maid outfits for the female heroes instead of the level he was assigned. It had been part of the reason she had been angry enough to be akumatized.

The fact that he was insistent on shoving his maid fetish into the game for no good reason other than having them be eye candy was the other part.

The images in question that he insisted on bringing featured the three female super heroes of the city: Ladybug, Rena Rouge, and Queen Bee.

But not as anyone had ever seen them.

Instead of their usual hero suits, the three girls were portrayed in sultry, even provocative poses. And most notably, all three were wearing some mockery of a French Maid outfit…as what would be believed by Americans, no less.

They might as well have been the initial sketches of pinup posters.

“You can’t still be serious!”

“Hey, I’m not the one who got akumatized just because I was jealous that someone else had a good idea.” He said bitingly and giving her a pointed look, perhaps still a bit bitter of the aforementioned experience that her akumatization had caused.

“It’s not a good idea, John.” Angela countered. “There was no reason to have the girls be running in maid outfits.”

He shrugged. “We could just say an akuma did it. After all, we did just get an akuma who did exactly that.” He said, giving her another look.

She clenched her fists and was about to retort when their team lead entered the room.

The meeting commenced and she’d been forced to bite her tongue. Each of the team members went over their progress and updates for their contribution to the game. Level design. Enemies. Testing.

And then came his grand achievement. Instead of the level he was assigned, he gave scantily clad designs for three of the eight known heroes.

What effort.

“I was thinking we really need to include something to make our game stand out, so I made some extra skins for the heroes.” He bragged, sending her a smug look. “The appeal would sell plenty of copies.”

“Or the controversy.” Angela muttered back before turning to the team lead and hoping that the man leading their group had more empathy…or sense.

The team lead looked over the designs with an analyzing gaze. Tiffeny, despite the initial impression his name would give, was a rather buff man who took no shit. But was also a guy. Who liked guy things. But did those things include young women in maid costumes?

After a moment, Tiffeny dropped the pictures on the table and looked at John incredulously. “You know, if you were going to base skins off recent events, you could at least have been authentic.”

John stared. “What?”

“It was the guys who were affected by Akumaid. Not the girls. If we’re going to do maids, we need to keep it true to life, just like the rest of the designs we’ve included. We talked about this when we started this project.”

“But it’s what the audience wants!” John argued.

“Do you know who comprises the majority of our audience?” Tiffeny asked. “Girls. Girls, gay guys, and those who are exploring their interests. Guys in the outfits would sell leagues more than the girls.” He started ticking his fingers “It’s different. It’s original. And it’s based in actual events. People would love it.”

“But…they’ll love this!”

“Man, if people wanted to see sexy girls in skimpy clothing, they’d play literally any other game! Or watch porn.” Tiffeny explained. “But what game do you know of has had guys in maid outfits?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. We want to stand out. And we even have recent events as justification. So if you’re going to be wasting time you should be spending on level-making to put people in maid skins, then get those male heroes some maid costumes.”

“But that’s not fair!” John exclaimed.

Tiffeny paused at that. “Hmm…you’re right.”

With that, he turned to her. “You’re good at designing. Make some butler outfits for the girls. Something dashing to serve as a counter for the guys.”

Angela blinked in surprise for a moment before smiling.

“Sure thing!”

“You know…” one of the other workers noted. “While we’re on the subject, I WAS thinking of some medieval armor designs for the girls and princess dresses for the guys.”

“Hey yeah! Like a light green for Viperion!”

“Maybe teal might be better?”

“Ooo! How about…”

Soon enough, everyone seemed to be invested in the new plan.

Everyone that is, except John.

“Lovely!” Tiffeny said cheerfully. “Plan it out and bring the concepts to me later.”

With a new task in hand and John’s pouting to forever be a memory to hold onto, it seemed her day was looking up…

_________________________

“That was some akuma battle.” Marinette said as she slid into her seat next to Alya.

The reporter, however, only looked annoyed. “Ladybug had apparently called all the male heroes and I completely missed it!” She groaned and leaned back in her seat, bemoaning the lost opportunity.

If she’d hadn’t been so focused on tracking Nino for the purpose of collecting blackmail ensuring his safety, she would have been able to catch all of the male heroes in their maid outfits.

Marinette smiled. “You know…I may have a connection…”

Alya gasped.

“No.”

Marinette giggled and slid over her phone with a picture showing.

“NO WAY!” She cried out before staring up at Marinette in shock. “Girl, you have to send me these!”

“Wait—you have what now?” Nino had arrived, initially hopeful that he had avoided the worst of that day only to have those hopes immediately dashed upon arriving to see the two girls sharing what could only have been one thing…

“I have pictures of the heroes in their new outfits.” Marinette replied cheerfully as she swiped through her phone. “Oh look, Nino! You’re in here, too!”

“WHAT?! NO!” He shouted, rushing forward.

Marinette quickly grabbed back her phone and hid it in her pocket with an overly sweet and not at all innocent grin.

“Mari, come on, no! Don’t do this to me!” He begged.

“Don’t do this to ME!” Alya cut in. “You can’t just show me that and take it away! That’s just not fair!”

“Don’t worry.” Marinette assured them. “It’s going where all my blackmail material goes.”

“Wait what?”

“Since when do you have blackmail material?”

“Since somebody started a game of ‘let’s take pictures of Marinette while she’s asleep and post them online’.” Marinette replied dryly.

Nino groaned. “Come on! I said I was sorry!”

“And now I can be just as sorry.” She replied blithely.

Which was to say: not sorry at all.

“Come on! Alya made me do it!”

“It was just in fun! Marinette! Please!”

“Do you want me to beg? Cry? I’ll cry.”

“I’ll pay you! Pretty please! At least the heroes if nothing else!”

“Oh no you don’t!”

“My blog NEEDS this!”

Marinette smiled at the minor chaos she had caused as the normally happy couple bickered with each other.

Sweet sweet music.

“Hey, Marinette!”

And speaking of sweet…

She turned to look up at a certain blond-haired model as he arrived at his own desk. Though he seemed to be a bit distracted by the arguing couple.

“Hey, Adrien!” She greeted, for once with no stutter to speak of.

“Hey, um…are they okay?” He asked, gesturing to the two.

“Oh, they’re fine.” She said, waving them off. “Just…a bit excited over the recent akuma.”

At that, Adrien brightened. “Wasn’t it awesome?”

She nodded, trying to keep her laughter inside.

“You…ah…enjoyed yourself then?”

Adrien shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, it’s not often I get to dress up in a way that’s ‘silly’. Or in anything that isn’t promoting Father’s brand. And I’ve never gotten to cosplay. So it was…really fun.”

Oh. Ouch. Okay, that one kind of hurt. The poor Sunshine Child…

“You know…” Marinette said, leaning over her desk and smiling at him. “I’ve seen a bit of that one anime you mentioned.”

“Cells at Work?” He asked, brightening up.

She nodded. “Mmhmm. I could make you a jacket based off the lead Red Blood Cell. And if you like, I can keep it so you can wear it whenever we hang out.”

He gasped. “Really?”

“Sure! Maybe you can come over sometime so we can try a fitting. We could even play Mecha Strike.”

Adrien beamed. “That sounds great! Thanks, Marinette!”

She waved him off and went back to full sitting in her seat.

Alya and Nino both became distracted from their arguing by the miracle they had just witnessed.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just spoken to Adrien Agreste…and not a stutter to be heard!

“What the heck, girl?” Alya whispered, sliding into her seat beside her friend. “Since when could you do THAT and why haven’t you done it sooner? I could swear I saw hearts in his eyes!”

Marinette shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “After seeing Adrien Agreste in a maid dress, I kind of wondered why I was so scared of talking to him to begin with.”

Alya laughed. “Well, at least something good came out of this, then.”

“You know...more good WOULD come out of this if I had pics of those heroes..."

“Really, Alya?”

“You’re pretty much the only one who managed to get any shots of the male heroes!” Alya exclaimed. “Seriously, how?!”

Marinette giggled.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

________________________

OMAKE 1:

Knock! Knock!

“Felix?” His mother called on the other side of the locked and barricaded door. “Will you be coming out?”

“That depends. Do you have a camera?”

A pause. Which was all the answer he needed.

“Then no.”

OMAKE 2:

Fortunately, in the midst of their searching, the team had managed to find the akuma and her primary target, getting between the two.

“So what happened?” Ladybug asked him.

John gripped his skirt, nervously. “She’s my coworker in developing a new video game and she didn’t like my input.”

“What set her off?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “She’s one of those types who wants to take the fun out of video games.”

“What?” Ladybug blinked.

“Okay, so I wanted to put some maid costumes in the game! It was just for fun! Besides, it would have added a bit of pizazz! Something for the players to enjoy!”

“You could just try making a good game.” Pegasus pointed out. “If you have to rely on a cheap gimmick to get buyers, it may not be a good product.”

"I'm sorry, really! I mean, sure, I'm still going to put it in the game, because who wouldn't want hot maids, but still! That doesn't mean I deserve this!"

The akuma raised her fist and shouted at him. “THEY ARE HEROES, DAMMIT! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN MAID SKINS JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE GIRLS!”

Ladybug blanched. “Wait…is the game about me?”

Pegasus coughed and looked away. “There have been…rumors, yes.”

Viperion tilted his head. “That seems like a double standard though…since we’re the ones in maid outfits...”

“Not the point, Viperion!”

Ladybug frowned.

“I don’t think I want to help now.”

“Ladybug!”

550 notes · View notes

just-a-quirkless-loser · 3 years

Text

What Did I Do To Deserve You?

ITS WHAT!?!

Alpha Dabi x F! Omega Reader

Words: 2.5K

Summary: Dabi finds out it’s your birthday

Soundtrack: ‘Safety Net’ by Ariana Grande ft. Ty Dolla $ign

Cuddling with your alpha, Dabi, is always the best. His smokey scent always engulfs your entire being as his strong arms keep you grounded against his chest. He always looks at you like you’re the best thing on this planet. Although, his snuggles are the least of your concern right now.

Right now, you’re trying to figure out how you’ll survive another minute of the cuddling position he has chosen for this moment. He’s sitting on the couch with you straddling his hips, your body arched into him as he keeps on hand settled on your ass. The other hand is fumbling with a Wii controller, clumsily playing bowling. It’s actually kinda cute how much your alpha loves to play video games (you hypothesis it may be because of how he was treated as a child but, Dabi barely talks about his childhood nowadays).

The problem, however, is that your alpha has decided to make you suffer. His hardness grinds into your core every time you try to move. You swear up and down in your mind that he does this on purpose to torture you for going to work every day. It’s pure agony laying there, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter after each second.

Dabi, on the other hand, is having the time of his life. He enjoys the way your core radiates warmth on his dick. Plus, you’ve been at work so much lately that he’s barely had you to himself for longer than an hour before you retire to your shared bedroom and pass out from exhaustion. Your asshole boss has been keeping you in the office longer since you have a big project coming up.

The alpha within him hates being separated from his omega but, he understands that you need your own independence. Thus, having this Thursday morning with you all to himself has made him incredibly happy. He thinks for a moment that maybe you might be sick (you only ever call out of work if you physically can’t make it) but you show no signs of illness. Then, his mind rejoices at the idea that you’ve finally agreed to quit your stupid job and allow him to provide for you; you quickly shot down this motion and told him you simply wanted to relax for once. He pouts.

“I’m not giving up hope,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. Kissing him on the lips would be a dangerous game right now.

“I’m sure you won’t, alpha,” Dabi’s nose flares. Glancing down at you, he runs his tongue along his teeth. Goodness, how have you survived this long in his lap?

Your starting match with your mate is cut short by your phone ringing. You flick his nose on your way up and yelp as he swats your ass in retaliation. You look back to glare at him but he’s innocently looking at the t.v., looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. Sometimes you truly cannot believe this same man works for the League.

“Hello, Momma,” you sigh a bit as you answer the phone. You didn’t expect her to call you.

“Y/N!!! Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl. How are you enjoying it?” you can hear Dabi pause his game. You silently curse your mother for finally deciding to be attentive to you.

“It’s going good, momma. I took off of work for the day,” by now, Dabi is silently staring at you. His tall figure looms over you as he mouths ‘birthday’ to you. You nod your head, wondering for a moment how the fuck his hearing is so good.

“You deserve it. It’s such a beautiful thing to turn 17,” you sigh once again. You suppose you were asking too much for your mother to remember your age in addition to remembering the day she pushed you out of her vagina.

“Momma, I’m turning 20,” you try not to let her ruin your mood. You try to be thankful that she’s at least making an effort. On the other hand, Dabi looks at the phone in disgust. You’ve never really told Dabi about your childhood but, he had picked up over time that you were in the same boat as himself.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry. Time is flying by so fast,” you just shake your head.

“Yeah, it really is. I have to go, ma. I’m getting ready to go do some shopping. I deserve it.”

“Yes, yes you do. I love you, Y/N,” you can tell she feels bad.

“As I do you, momma,” you end the call. You know it must hurt her when you don’t tell her you love her back but, you’ve never been able to tell her that. You care for her but, it’s so hard forgiving her.

“IT’S WHAT!?!?!” ahhh, yes, you now have to deal with Dabi. It’s actually kinda funny how your birthday has just now dawned on his mind. However, you don’t dare laugh because you already know he feels bad enough for not knowing in the first place. “Omega, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I don’t normally celebrate it. My boss normally gives me the day off no matter how much I protest. I just wanted to spend the day with you,” you relish in the warmth of his palm as he starts to stroke your cheek. You stare into his deep, cerulean eyes, feeling yourself get lost. “Don’t feel bad, alpha. It’s not that important.”

“IT IS IMPORTANT,” he snaps a bit, nuzzling your head. “It’s the day you were born to be mine. I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“You’d be the same, just a bit more aggressive,” you giggle. You have no doubt in your mind that your alpha would be single without you. It takes a special kind of person to deal with your Dabi.

“That’s beside the point. Why didn’t you celebrate your birthday?” your eyes narrow as he speaks in the past tense.

“I DON’T celebrate it because I never got into it. I never really told you this ‘cause uh,” you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. You know that you owe it to him to at least give him a good explanation. “Growing up, my parents were on really hard drugs. I mostly tried to avoid being in the house after things got bad so I was out working most of the time, trying to survive. I never really noticed my birthday since, you know, I was too preoccupied with taking care of myself. Then, the years started going by too fast till I just gave up trying to celebrate.”

“Y/N, Omega, look at me when I say this,” he cups your face in his hands, his nose rubbing against your, both of your eyes staring at each other. “Never feel ashamed of your past. Never feel ashamed to tell me things about yourself. I will never judge you. I love you so much, baby. Never forget that.”

“Yes, alpha,” and the matter was forgotten in your eyes. For the rest of the day, Dabi treated you like a queen (although, if you’re being honest, it didn’t really feel any different from how he normally treats you. If anything, he didn’t even let you walk). That night, he cooked you dinner and played with your hair the way you liked as he lulled you to sleep.

Once he was sure you were asleep, Dabi crept out of the bed. He watched you for a moment as you whined, hand-stretched out searching for your alpha. Your hand soon found his scented pillow and you decided it would be your ‘faux’ Dabi. It was adorable. Dabi made sure to snap a few pictures before sneaking out to the living room to make his call.

“Dabi, this better be fucking good. It’s booty-call hours and I know you’re not calling me for that….unlesssss?”

“Giran shut the fuck up and listen. I want to use some of my money to take Y/N on a small trip for her birthday. Not too extravagant. She hates shit like that,” Dabi was already regretting calling the man.

“When’s her birthday?” Dabi could hear Giran shuffling around with a piece of paper. He could imagine he was probably writing down information.

“It was today. She just t-”

“What the fuck, Dabi?!?! How could you forget her FUCKING BIRTHDAY?! SHE’S THE BEST FUCKING THING YOUR SORRY ASS IS GONN-” Dabi had to cool the rage of his inner alpha.

“She just fucking told me, you old, senile bastard. She wasn’t even going to tell me. I found out because her good-for-nothing mother called,” Dabi was pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still pissed you hadn’t shared something so important with him. He was even more pissed at himself for not realizing sooner.

“Oh...my bad. How soon do you want the plans to be made?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t care how much money it costs to get reservations and shit. I just want to treat her the way she deserves. Also, tell Shigaraki that I’ll be out of commission for the days you book. I mean it. None of you better fucking call me,” his voice dropped an octave. “This is my omega’s time. I’ll let you sorry fucks die if you’re stupid enough to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“Geez, I get it. I’ll tell the others. If it’s for Y/N, we’ll lay low for a few days,” you had managed to weasel your way into the hearts of the group. Every time one of them had come to your home pleading, you took care of them. Hell, even Shigaraki tolerated you.

“Thank you,” Dabi meant it. “I’ll let you get back to your sleep.”

Then, he was back in the bed with you. You knew nothing of what had happened and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he told you of the plans he (well, technically Giran) made.

***

“Hell no,” why did you have to be such a difficult omega? “I have a job, Dabi.”

“Baby, it’s only a few days. I know you have more than enough vacation days saved up. Just let your daddy take care of you,” you blushed hard. You had been getting ready for work when Dabi told you he had planned something for your birthday.

“Dabi, I can’t just not show up to work. Plus, I have work to do for this project,” you went to step around your alpha when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest.

“No, you don’t. I already asked your boss and he said you can come. It’s only for a few days babe. I promise you’ll love it,” he was giving you his pout. You turned your head to the side knowing that you would cave in to his demands the longer he looked at his face. You must resist temptation. You must...you must...you...have never seen Dabi look at you the way he is now. He seems so excited for whatever he has planned. You can’t bring yourself to deny his excitement.

“Fine. What do I need to pack?” Dabi rejoiced in your defeat, smiling down at you.

“I’ve already packed for you,” your alpha pulls a suitcase from underneath the bed. Ahhh, so that’s where some of your clothes had gone. “I’ve already got the car outside all gassed up, Giran said he’ll drop by to make sure the house is taken care of, and I’ve got your favorite snacks waiting to be eaten by you.”

This man truly loves you with all his being. You spend the next hours napping in the car per Dabi’s request. Even though you’d never admit it, it feels so good to have a break from working in your work cubicle. Maybe, you’ll decide to take a few more days off more often. After you wake up for your cat-nap, you eat your snacks like a good girl, giggling at any of the stupid roadtrip games Dabi comes up with.

Every time you ask about your destination, Dabi just shoots you a conspiratorial grin and tells you to “enjoy the ride like a good girl.” You squint your eyes at him the first few times as you think about reaching over to grab his dick. You decide against it, your self-preservation telling you that idea may not be the best course of action.

The day is slowly turning into evening but you don’t mind. The day has been immaculate at your alpha’s side.

Eventually, Dabi tells you to close your eyes. You do so with no argument, ready to see what your surprise is (at this point, you’ve learned there is no point in trying to protest). You hear the car stop and Dabi helps you out, his hands covering your eyes as he walks you somewhere. From what you can feel, you’re somewhere with gravel. That revelation does nothing to tell you where you are.

“How much further?” you whine. You’ve been walking for a few minutes now, every so often you stumble over a pebble, making Dabi laugh.

“How do you manage to trip and I’m literally guiding you?” you huff.

“Answer my question fool,” you yelp as Dabi gives you a quick swat to the butt. You rub the sting away and give him an imaginary glare.

Instead of answering, he uncovers your eyes to the most beautiful thing you've seen in your life (aside from Dabi ofcourse). A log cabin stands in front of you, large windows spanning from the ground to the ceilings. It looks like it may be made of pine wood. Everything looks so polished and poised. But, that’s not even the best part.

From where you stand, you can smell water. Walking a few steps ahead of Dabi, you can see a beautiful lake behind the cabin, the water glistening as it reflects the setting sun. Hues of magenta, tangerine, and candy apple sprays across the sky. Light is giving way to night before your very eyes and you feel yourself beginning to tear up. The sandy beach feels heavenly on your toes, the air feels calm and fresh, the lake still sparkling.

You can still hear Dabi behind you as you wrap your arms around yourself. You try to cry silently but, you just end up full-on sobbing. No one has ever done something so thoughtful for you; no one has cared enough about you to do anything like this.

Your alpha doesn’t ask you what’s wrong. He just keeps you against his chest as he lets you deal with your emotions. By the look on your face, he can tell he’s done a good job by consulting with Giran.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my omega,” you grin. You’ll have to start letting him care for you more often if this is what he comes up with.

You both walk along the beach, laughing at each other when either of you trip on the mounds of sand. It’s another moment of calm that is reserved for only the two of you.

“So, you do like the beach?” Dabi looks nervous as he holds you.

“I love it.”

“Good. It’s our beach now,” and, although it sounds innocent enough, you look at him with squared eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I bought the beach,” give it some time to set in. Okay, maybe a few more moments of digestion.

“YOU DID WHAT?!?!”

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@sinclairsamess @sakurashortstack

#Dabi #bnha #mha #dabi x reader #alpha dabi #omega reader #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #dabi is sweet #female reader #fanfiction writer #anime fanfiction

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weirdthinkingdragon · 3 years

Text

Dragons’ Biggest Treasure

Yandere dragon shifter erasermic x reader

Fantasy AU

Here’s a long one for you guys! (10k) FINALLY WROTE A FIC AGAIN! YAY!(hahaha I’m so exhausted)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic fights and scenes, multiple character deaths (not EraserMic or reader), harm towards reader (again, not by EraserMic. Well, mostly), burn mentions (with dragons it’s gonna happen), and a handful of times about eardrums bursting (the harm towards reader by EraserMic). As well as dragon abuse. This does have much darker stuff than I usually write. Also a slow start for the yandere stuff. Pretty happy with the details in it. Hope you guys like it!

dragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragonerasermicdragon- *gets smacked*

These two as yandere dragons will now forever rot in my head. Hng, why have I not thought of it sooner!? Just THINKING of them as yandere dragons makes brain go brrr. Obviously going to write them as yandere dragon shifters again at some point. More than once too.

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I’m close to the entrance gates to the kingdom ruled by a man that calls himself All For One. No one knows his real name. He’s a sick bastard that no one wants to be around, but no one can do anything since he’s a lot smarter than he looks with that damn mask over his head. My job by him is to heal dragons after their fights he forces them into, like the most recent one who is incredibly injured in front of me. He likes them by the entrance to torture them with the taste of freedom they will never get from the enchanted chains wrapped all over them.

While using my natural healing abilities that are actually a pretty rare thing, there is a commotion over towards the gates. The large metal doors open to reveal many men on horses and even a few on their feet holding ropes, pulling something large behind them. I sadly already know what’s being brought in. A saddened sigh escapes me at the sight of two new dragons that are heavily wounded being dragged in through the gates at the end of the ropes. More dragons that are bound to reach their unfortunate fate until they die.

Looking a bit closer, there are arrows sticking out of the two of them, and blood trailing on the ground. Both of their bodies are black, but one has everything black but a grey underbelly. Instead of spines, it has a feather-like long mane that is also black. The skin on their wings matches the grey of their underbelly. It’s impossible to know the eye color since they’re asleep for the moment.

The other quite possibly has the largest yellow spines I have ever seen. The same with his horns, they’re curved upwards at a slight angle. Their underbelly, as well as their wings match the color of the spines and horns. There are odd scales around their eyes with orange closer to the center, and a white outer rim, almost like it’s wearing sunglasses.

The dragon I was tending to just curls itself as much as it can away from me after healing it a small amount. I was ordered to only heal them enough for their wounds to not need stitching so they will still be rather weak to even try escaping. Why he would need enchanted chains then I have absolutely no clue. He takes a sick pleasure in his favorite dragons having such an advantage in the arena.

I lock eyes with Masura who gives me a giant sadistic smile in return. He enjoys hurting dragons way too much. A few have even ended up dying on the way here from wherever he and the others keep finding them.

“Brought some fresh meat for you to take care of. These two put up an incredible fight. Can’t wait to see what they will do in the arena.”

He and the others go to the line of chains near me and hook them all over the two dragons, including the specially created muzzle. Specially created by it having holes so they can dip their snout in the trough of water and get it in that way, and fire can’t get through. Feeding is still a bit of a problem though. Especially since I’m stuck being in charge of that as well. So many times being bitten or burned from having to remove it for that time.

I gently rub the scarred burn on my right forearm from a problem with an incredibly feisty and almost explosive yellow dragon before. Miraculously, he was the first and only dragon to escape alive. Then again, it was the turn of a different caretaker that night who ended up sentenced to death for it.

They quickly leave to let me tend to the injured duo. I sigh and quickly finish up the one in front of me with a rather large wound on its right hind leg. The bucket of healing water I enchanted helped the wound close up to a point. It can sadly easily be ripped open, which it obviously will tomorrow in its next fight. I would love nothing more than to be able to heal them better than I have to. There are serious consequences if it’s found out I did though. Emi was proof of that. Despite her joking personality, she really cared for the dragons. That was her downfall when a dragon was healed too much and almost overpowered one of All For One’s most prided dragons. Can’t remember which, but I’m pretty sure it was the female dragon named “Toga”. She- no. Don’t think about Emi’s final screams of pain.

I scan over the two dragons to see who is worse off. By far it seems to be the black one with the mane instead of spines. The most concerning is the arrow that seems to be in one of its lungs. It’s going to die if I don’t do something. I don’t want it to die so soon. Well, I do, yet I don’t. Do just so they don’t have to suffer fighting in battles, but don’t since they have such a long life to live yet. I just wish they’d be able to really be free after being caught.

Damn it, I might get into so much trouble for this…

A bright green glow comes from my hands as I wrap one around the arrow and one on its underside right next to the arrow. A quick and firm tug is able to get it out. I quickly enhance my healing power further to fully heal this one wound.

Not even a scar is left behind. Hopefully, they forgot the arrow was around there when they brought the dragons. I lean on the wall to steel my groundings from being exhausted from it. Ugh, it’s been too long since I’ve done that. My body is no longer used to my own powers. How sad. I’m the only one known for being born with such power. Emi was gifted it by enchantment by All For One. How he has the power to do that no one wants to know. We all just know he does, and he gets whatever he wants since no one can stop him.

After collecting myself for a moment, I scan the rest of their injuries and find out both of them are male. The maned one has more slashes on him than arrows, but the other has an incredible amount of arrows. Luckily, none of them are in vital places though.

The already reddened bucket shows it doesn’t have much more healing capabilities. I’m going to have to get a new one for healing. As long as it’s clear, the water covers the rag in a way it can close wounds. It’s an odd thing that somehow works and helps the healer keep more of their energy.

I decide to leave for a minute and refill the bucket. After dumping out the blood water, I refill it from the rather clean river that runs through this place. Using my healing ability, I stick my hand in the fresh freezing water and stir it around to leave a green glow for a moment. It will quickly warm up in this rather hot weather.

I go towards the two again to finish up their wounds. What surprises me is both have already woken up and are glaring at me greatly upon entrance. The maned one has the most piercing steel-white-like eyes I’ve ever seen. The other has bright green with an odd circle swirl in them I’ve never seen before. Have to say they almost seem a bit hypnotic.

The wonder doesn’t last long though as the green-eyed one lets out a noise that greatly hurts my ears. With that sound and this close proximity, my eardrums more likely than not just burst with the severe pain that came with it. A few tears threaten to escape with a pain I’m not used to.

The mask wasn’t made for dragons with a sound ability! We’ve never had one of these! Why didn’t Masura warn me!? Or more importantly, how wasn’t he heard before being dragged here with how loud he is!?

With my hands instinctively on my ears to try preventing it from bursting my eardrums again though it would be useless, All For One enters right after. Out of nowhere he summons another enchanted chain that wraps around his snout, preventing him from doing the same… Screaming? Shouting? Whatever that ability is to be used again.

He waits for a minute for me to heal my eardrums before attempting to speak to me.

I nearly start shaking as his head turns towards the non-wound area on the maned one. Masura must have informed him or slipped up talking about it.

Quick, I have to save my own skin! “I had to remove the arrow and fully heal it, otherwise it would have died from the arrow puncturing its lung, as you most likely knew already. I understand that’s no worry for you, but it would have been rather annoying if he died before being in even one fight to watch, right?” Oh please tell me that works!

A dead silence looms for a second before All For One turns towards me and gives me a curt nod. I almost heaved a sigh of relief. Almost being the key word. I held it in to make sure it wouldn’t annoy him. Probably wouldn’t, but it’s safer to not take a chance.

He creates another muzzle that’s more fitting for this dragon. He removes the chain around the snout and puts it on before he can get snapped at, or possibly screamed at? By said dragon. The belt part is wrapped rather tightly around his snout, making it look impossible for him to even move his jaw. At least the other has a bit of loose room for it to open ever so slightly so it doesn’t become stiff. That one is going to be a lot harder to take off for feeding them.

As if All For One could read my thoughts, which is terrifying to think, he glances at me. "You have a healing ability. If it screams with the muzzle removed, heal yourself. Don’t disappoint me." He then walks off. Probably to his dragons that he treats like gods to keep them loyal to him. Even one of them being obsessed with blood getting a human a week to feast upon. Usually, it’s prisoners that have tried to kill All For One or “dragon liberators” that caught wind of how he treats most of the dragons and tried to free them. Obviously with no succession.

I let out the unknown breath being held. Man, he’s terrifying and can suffocate someone by just his presence alone. The maned one looked almost worried at the other one while he almost seemed to be panicking with the tight muzzle around his snout. Can’t blame him. Imagine being in something similar. I’d be scared too.

His glance shifted from the still-panicking dragon towards me, glaring ten times worse than before. I sigh. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t want you two to be here anymore than you do.” Can dragons even understand human speech? The explosive one that burned me before almost seemed like he did, but maybe it was just my imagination. The other turns towards me and tries to scream, or whatever it is again with no succession. Makes me wonder if he hasn’t had a similar experience somehow in the past. Ugh, thinking of that just makes me feel worse. Finally free only to be dragged back to somewhere that will probably be worse.

Saying “probably” because there are no branding marks or dents in their wrists from ropes that are usually on dragons from other places.

They’re probably already going to be fighting in the arena tomorrow. Thinking about that reminds me of how exhausted I am from healing the maned one. It’s going to be good for them to get names tomorrow in the arena. Already tired of trying to think of what to call them separately.

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I was right. Miraculously, All For One wanted it to be the last fight of the day involving those two. He wants me to be there to take off the loud one’s muzzle for every fight now and in the future. Starting to hate my healing ability now.

The chains are still wrapped around the two, and they’re led into different stalls for the arena. Of course, I was left alone with the loud one. Don’t know how that could POSSIBLY go wrong. Note the sarcasm. At least All For One was able to make it where the chains are held on the sturdy walls until he can let them leave. His sound should be plenty enough signal for All For One to release him.

He looks at me as I reach up to take the muzzle off. He stays quiet for a moment once it’s off, moving his more than likely stiff jaw around. There’s already a slight dent around his snout and jaw.

I shake my head disappointedly. “This is beyond fucking inhumane.” Leaving him waiting, my body goes towards the doors in front of him and opens them. They lead into the arena, which has a net high up in the air so dragons can’t fly away. Not like they could anyway with how fast All For One can summon chains to drag them to the ground.

The peace wasn’t kept long though as he uses his ability again. The chains snapped free off of him and he immediately charged out into the arena, where the other already was. Wait, he’s having double dragon fights? That’s new. He’s never done that before. On the other side of the arena, The wounded one from yesterday and a very feisty solid white one were on the other side. The white one looked like it was too eager to try to kill. The two closer to me were more on edge and almost seem like they really don’t want to fight the other two.

They didn’t get the chance to reject though as the white one immediately lunges towards them. They separate and dodge out of the way of it. It keeps snapping and blowing ice towards the maned one. He slams his front claws on the snout of it to prevent the ice from freezing him or the other. He screams at the ice dragon. It’s not as loud as it was when he yelled at me yesterday.

It’s almost as if… They’re more humane? This doesn’t make sense. Dragons are usually down to fight to the death, even when not healed much. At least, that’s what seemed to be until these two.

I look towards the other one who doesn’t seem to want to fight, but it knows as well as I this fight will go on until at least one dies.

As the two new dragons kept easily dodging and not striking too hard back, the crowd watching are not too happy with the lack of injuries. Some booing, and others even attempting to throw their held items like food at the dragons. The loud one snaps and uses his ability towards the crowd, almost or possibly even louder than yesterday. At least that shut them up.

I lean against the right door and snicker. “Serves them right.” For a quick second, the loud one turns his head towards me. There’s no way he could have heard me, right? Especially with that ability. Or maybe his body was born with being able to stand it? Super hearing yet super loud yelling doesn’t make sense to have though. Dragons are incredibly strange in the ways their bodies work. It’s also quite possible to just be thinking too much.

Fuck it, don’t think too much about that.

The wounded one from yesterday half-heartedly swipes at the maned one. Even he seems to notice the odd behavior of the wounded dragon. Then again, three out of the four are acting a way I’ve never seen before. I look up towards the “throne” All For One has. He’s shaking his head and points towards the other side of the arena. The male with glasses sitting next to him nods and lifts one of the levers next to him.

Oh no. Not already.

Two familiar dragons exit the cell they were comfortably kept in. They’re not his top ones, but still get the job done in killing dragons when given the chance. He calls them Spinner and… I think the other was Moon something if remembered correctly. He’s not used as often as others, so his name isn’t exactly remembered. Calling him Moon is enough for me.

The crowd goes wild for the two. They know things get messy when Moon gets let out because of his freakish weird teeth ability. And… How he eats parts of dragons he kills.

In speaking of killing, immediately those two go for the kill. The wounded one didn’t stand a chance and had its neck snapped instantly by Spinner. Moon something lashes its teeth out and almost punctures the ice dragon.

Just watching the moon one move is quite unnerving. He’s so insanely fast and agile. Still wondering why he’s basically bound in a way. Then again, he’s at least twice as unhinged as Toga. I fear how fast he might be if he wasn’t bound.

In the blink of an eye, these two were much more defensive as the teeth blades went to strike them again. The ice dragon stopped going for them, and tries going after Moon Something. Ugh, what was that something? MoonFresh? No. MoonFlesh? I don’t think so.

He makes his teeth curve like a hook and tries again towards the ice dragon. It dodges again. Wait, hook… Fishing… MoonFish! That’s what it was!

I feel like slapping myself stupid for forgetting that.

Spinner jumps onto the wall and tries to use that to sneak up on the loud one. It doesn’t work as he was focused on Spinner as soon as the two new ones entered. He moves out of the way and instead of screaming, screeches this time. It’s much higher and worse than any sound he’s made yet. The maned one doesn’t even flinch, but the other three definitely do. Spinner was right beside the loud one. He recoils in obvious pain and stands there shaking his head.

It hurt my ears as well, but this time it didn’t make them burst, surprisingly. I don’t think the same could be said for Spinner. They have internal ears, so I’m not exactly sure if they burst, or whatever it is their species’ ears do.

I look up to see All For One leaning a bit forward in his chair, now taking slight interest. Moonfish recovers incredibly quickly and lunges his teeth again. This time it punctures right through the ice dragon’s chest as they did a final ice breath. At the same time, a few land on the other two, causing some decently deep cuts. The ice breath freezes the rest of MoonFish’s body.

The maned one wastes no time in swiping his tail towards the frozen body, shattering it upon impact.

The crowd goes eerily quiet. Looking at All For One, he remains indifferent. It’s too hard to tell his emotions about what just happened. Spinner tries again to sneak behind the two and breathe his fire. The two seem so focused on the death of three dragons in one fight. Are they not used to it?

They still haven’t noticed Spinner on the wall. At least I thought. The loud one instantly turns and rears onto his back legs and slams Spinner onto the ground with an almost punch-like move of his right talon.

Before anything can be done, these two are chained again. The loud one being yanked off of Spinner, who instantly retreats back towards the open gate he came from. I’m honestly a little disappointed he wasn’t finished off as well.

I sigh and go towards the stalls again, preparing to heal them. An already created healing bucket sitting in the same spot I used for them yesterday.

It doesn’t take long for the two to be dragged in again by Masura and the bunch of… well, meatheads to say the least. I swear none of them even think half the time about anything. The two are definitely fighting and struggling with the men.

The loud one goes to use his ability again. “Pipe down you overgrown lizard!” Masura punches the dragon in the jaw as hard as he can. It makes a sickening “crack” noise.

The maned one gets pissed and starts snapping at him as well. The only reason I can think of why he’d do that is he knows the other one. Why didn’t I make the connection sooner? These two must know each other!

Masura rolls his eye at them. So glad some good dragons before were able to take out one of his eyes. If only they could have taken out both. The chains get put where they were before, making the two unable to move much again.

I’d put the muzzle on the loud one, but with his now broken or dislocated jaw it wouldn’t be the best and needs to be healed first. I can tell Masura is itching to punch one of them again.

He stands there and smirks with his arms crossed as I dip the rag into the bucket. The loud one’s jaw is first. That’s now by far the most concerning injury. Looking a bit closer, it is definitely dislocated. I shake my head in disapproval at Masura while remaining eye contact with the dragon. It almost feels like he’s able to read me. “Did you seriously have to dislocate his jaw?”

“Heh, the damn thing deserved it for trying to use their voice at me,” I roll my eyes at his comment. Of fucking course he’d try to use his ability. We kidnapped, or more like dragonnapped him and are forcing him to fight other dragons. I’d use anything I could too. “Not everyone has a goody-perfect healing thing like you either,” he continued.

I shrug, then gently try to grab his lower jaw to try setting it back in place. “I’d just have to heal your sorry ass.”

“Tch, my sorry ass? You’re the one who always seems to get all buddy-buddy with dragons. You heal them too gently. You’re the one with a sorry ass.”

Cue my sarcastic mode. “Oh, I’m sorry for calling you a sorry ass. I must so clearly be the worst one since I’d rather not have dragons fight me all the time like you,” There was another sickening “crack” as its jaw was put back into place. The dragon hisses in obvious pain. I bring up the rag to the side of his jaw to try quickly relieving it. “Easy bud,” I try to whisper to make Masura not hear. Thankfully he didn’t seem to since he didn’t comment on it. “We can’t all think with our muscles rather than with our brains. Nothing would get done right,” I continue, but this time out loud. The loud dragon lets out a snort.

His footsteps go away, indicating he left. Probably upset. Good. I roll my eyes at him as I look over the dragon’s jaw. Good as new. Good thing about that is there’s not really any way to tell if I healed it all the way or not. Broken or dislocated bones are crazy enough easier and faster to heal than wounds. How that works with leaving the layer right under cut open and easily able to tear open again, but heals bone instantly is beyond me.

Looking around and closing any other wounds, I then go to the maned one. He nips at me to try getting my hands away. It’s far more gentle and human-like than the others that have tried to bite me before. Almost like he’s telling me he doesn’t want to be healed by human hands. Understandable.

… wait a minute. Bite, or opening jaw… I look towards the loud one and flinch, preparing for his voice. Of course I can heal, but it still hurts. My shoulders even tense upwards. It never comes. Looking at him, he still just looks at me.

Well, now I’m in a dilemma. Do I put on the muzzle now, and possibly break this trust or whatever he seems to somehow already be giving me, or leave it off and possibly get yelled at later by him, or even someone coming in to see him without his muzzle?

Ugh, I might regret this. Might as well risk it for now. I can just lie that it was forgotten to be put on if someone asks about it. Turning back to this one, I heal him anyways. He makes a slight hissing fuss but accepts it after a moment. After finishing, I leave to get them some raw meat to eat. Sadly, the biggest thing available is some moderately sized fish. They don’t seem like river or ocean dragons, so chunks of deer will have to do. It gets placed down not too far from them. They look at me warily for a bit. Maybe they don’t want me to watch them eat? It’s time for me to leave anyway.

Ugh, but the muzzles… Hopefully, they’ll eat when I’m away for a bit. I have a stupid idea I’ve never done before. Sleeping beside the dragons. Walking out lets me give that a little more thought. At least one night to see how they do couldn’t hurt. But first, there is a need to talk to All For One about their names.

I enter the area he usually is with his prized dragons. Most are pretty indifferent to me, except for Toga who has tried to stab me more than once with her blade-like tail.

I stand behind him awkwardly while he pats Spinner’s right shoulder. “They’re both… Interesting to say the least. A shame for Moonfish, but the ones tomorrow will be entertaining as well. Let’s see if they can handle Toga and Dabi.” Dread slightly seeps into me. He’s already making them face all his most dangerous ones?

“What about their names if you decide to manipulate them after and keep them as pawns?”

He shakes his head. “I have enough pawns. The audience has decided on Shatter for the loud one, and Lion for the other..”

… What? “Lion?”

“Must be the hair on it. I don’t name the things. The people do. The one thing they do have control over.” Which is beyond sad. Fucking tyrant.

I nod in reply. “Sounds good.” After that, I leave before he could say or do anything else. The less around him the better, even if he hasn’t done anything negative towards me yet.

Upon entering the same place again, they did eventually eat the meat while I was gone. That’s good. There’s an open area a bit to the left and away from the dragons. I plan on laying there for the night. It’s only to make sure no one comes in and sees them without their muzzles. No one but me knows a feeding schedule so it’s a good lie saying they were just fed. I’ve decided to think they can understand human speech, even if they don’t. They’re more pleasant to talk to than most people around.

“All right you two, I normally don’t do this, but I’ll be sleeping in here a bit away from the both of you for a few nights. My back won’t appreciate it, but I sure hope you two do. It’s only because I’d rather not put those muzzles back on,” I look at the still slightly dented skin of Shatter. Damn, and that was only for like what? Half a day of him wearing it? “But if someone comes in, I will have to temporarily put them back on. Please don’t fight it too much.”

Shatter tilts his head in an almost cute type of way. Well, that’s certainly unique. I go over to the corner and sit down against the wall. Leaning slightly back so my back fully touches it, and tilt my head up. My ass won’t be too happy tomorrow either. Maybe bringing my pillow for tomorrow night or something will help.

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I am rudely woken up by something sharp stabbing my foot. Looking down, it’s a feisty Bombay kitten biting and clawing at it. Where did it come from? Another thing noticed is my body is now fully laying sideways on the ground. “Ouch! Hey there you little feisty thing.” I go to grab it, and it notices. It then takes off towards the dragons, making my heart sink thinking it’s about to become a tiny snack for one of them. Strange enough, neither do. Lion just looks at it in an almost caring way. Shatter looks at Lion in a way I can’t fully understand.

Looking outside, the sun is just starting to fully show. That means in just a few hours the arena fights will begin again. Knowing All For One, he’s going to save these two for last again. Turning back to the two, Lion has one of his claws gently extended for the kitten to play with. That is once again extremely odd behavior for a dragon. Maybe everything known about them is wrong?

“Be careful today. I was informed of who you two will be fighting. They’re much more dangerous than the other two yesterday. One has fire hot enough to burn scales off dragons. The other is agile and very good at injuring.”

They just look at me.

A few fights have already passed, and my anxiety increases for the two. I’ve already had to heal the other dragons that fought today. Except for the ones that died. Getting really tired of seeing so many die for no cause other than the sick entertainment of humans.

The muzzles were already temporarily put back on the two. Shatter’s is rather loose, just to help him not freak out again, and he obviously doesn’t deserve something like that. Luckily once again, I’m the only one taking care of Shatter. He doesn’t scream at me as I quickly take it off. I risk it and pat his shoulder. “Good luck out there. You’re going to need it. He doesn’t bite me! Man, this is crazy.

Again, the gate opens and his chains come off of him. Lion bolts out of the stall next to us, and glares inside it, probably involving Masura.

Straight to the chase, Toga and Dabi are released from their places. Dabi almost gets a grin on his face from his teeth being shown in what seems to be a smile. Or maybe even a sneer with how stuck up he seems to be. Toga immediately poises her sharp tail above her.

It feels like everyone holds their breath for a second as the four stand still in the arena. Toga is the first to charge for Shatter. He immediately jumps out of the way, and tries to swing his tail towards her legs to make her fall off balance. She jumps over his tail and stabs it in the process. She then licks the blood off of the blade of her tail.

Shit! I forgot to warn about her transformation! The one thing though it could still be easy to tell which is the real shatter from his ability, and he wouldn’t attack Lion. I don’t think All For One knows they care about each other. Wait… But if she fights Shatter in his form and Lion tries to help… Oh no.

Dabi starts using his fire towards Lion. It slightly grazes him before he can get out of the way. He lets out a growl in slight pain as smoke comes from some of his scales. Shatter goes to use his ability at Dabi, but stops abruptly as Toga transforms into him. She goes to attack him again. She might remember his ability from listening and possibly watching yesterday. They’re able to watch for an even better chance at winning.

She swings her claws at his throat, making him go to the defensive and try to back away.

While that is going on, Lion is too busy being focused on Dabi’s fire, and constantly jumping from it. It gets to the point Lion is facing me, and the back of Dabi is visible. He glares at Dabi, and I see his eyes turn red. Why the FUCK are these two dragons so much stranger than most!? What is up with his eyes changing color!? Dabi goes to use his fire, but… It doesn’t come out?

… !!! A cancellation ability!?

Now that seems to catch the attention of everyone, especially All For One. He leans a bit forward in his chair. I can’t see Dabi’s face, but I bet it’s one of surprise judging by his tensed body. He freezes for a moment, giving Lion the chance to strike first. He’s able to manage a pretty deep slash onto Dabi’s side when he tries to move away. One quick glance shows Lion’s eyes are back to his steel or whitish color. He only manages another rather deep slash to Dabi’s shoulder. He tries to use his fire again, and succeeds. With the close range I worry that Lion was burned to a crisp immediately.

He glares again to cancel the fire again before it can do serious damage to him. Ah, so there is a timer-like thing for it. He slams his tail into Dabi, knocking him towards his back. He’s able to manage another slash onto Dabi’s exposed stomach. It’s easy to tell Dabi is slightly panicking, not used to never being hit so much before. Probably the cancellation as well.

Presumably Toga notices Dabi having a hard time, meanwhile, she’s giving Shatter a surprisingly hard time, and a lot of injuries. She charges towards him still as Shatter and manages to get a clean deep swipe to his right eye. My heart sinks to my stomach.

Lion hardly gives it a chance though since he notices Dabi trying to get back up. He claws again at Dabi, striking his chest. There’s now a good pool of blood being trailed onto the ground from all Dabi’s wounds. Now that Shatter has a bit of freedom, he’s able to scream. Just like yesterday, it’s much more of a screech than a scream. Again like before, Dabi and Toga flinch in pain at the sound. It gives Lion the chance to injure the Shatter that attacked him, making the transformation wear off.

Before anything else can be done, chain envelops the two again, allowing Dabi and Toga to get away freely. Of course the coward would do this when his precious pawns are losing. “Cheating bastard.” I mumble with obvious frustration. Shatter looks towards me again.

That’s the least of my concern now though. Lion’s eye needs to be looked at ASAP. I go back to their stalls to prepare for their return.

Again, it doesn’t take long. Neither are wearing muzzles, but Shatter doesn’t scream, possibly in fear of his jaw being dislocated again. Masura almost seems disappointed when he and the others drag them in. It was almost too much to wait for all of them to leave before rushing towards the two dragons, especially Lion.

When reaching up for his head, I almost yank it down to my eye level to see the damage to his eye. They almost seem surprised by my concern. Thankfully, his eye was missed, just barely. My foot nervously taps onto the ground for a second while in thought. It’s still a really deep wound, but fully healing it would raise suspicion, and All For One already isn’t too happy with these two defeating so many of his favorites. Not many have been able to beat Dabi and Toga. My hand gets its familiar glow and comes into contact with the wound. I don’t heal it all the way. There’s a giant scar left instead. They gave me a look. “I’m sorry. I really badly want to heal it fully, but I don’t want to die by healing you guys too much like the last person did,” I look towards the burned scales as well. “Those can’t be fully healed either. Some reason my healing doesn’t really work on burns.”

Their eyes almost seem to widen.

Shatter looks towards the entrance instead a moment later and hisses. I rush for the muzzles. Obviously, they’re really resilient to them being put on.

I get Shatter’s on just in time for All For One to enter. He goes right up to Lion. “A canceling ability. Simply magnificent. I wonder, how many can he cancel at once? Guess tomorrow we will see,” He almost seems to glare at Shatter. “Although I do not trust that one to not get in the way. Tomorrow will be just Lion, or now given the name Suppress.”

He goes to touch the now named “Suppress”, but he smacks his head against All For One’s hand, making him pull it away. “Ah, still got good fight as well. Good. Tomorrow will be interesting.”

“Uh, S-sir? If I may ask, what is your plan for him tomorrow?” Damn it, why did I have to stutter?

He turns his masked head towards me. I can almost FEEL his grinning under the thing. “He’s going to fight Tomura as well tomorrow.”

I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. There’s no way he can fight Dabi, Toga, AND Tomura at the same time without being killed!

He doesn’t say anything else as he turns and leaves. I quickly take their muzzles back off. There’s nothing that can be done. I can only hope he’s strong enough to survive. No dragon has survived Tomura though. I sigh heavily and look at Suppress. “I hope you can handle a lot at once. If I’m right, you might be against three tomorrow. Be as ruthless as you can. They won't be holding back.”

I leave and grab food for them again. This time, they eat it with me there. I sit in the same spot as before.

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

The next day comes too soon. This time I’m woken up to the sun shining right on my face. That means it’s much later than yesterday. I go to sit up, and nearly groan in stiffness. Yep, here comes the pain and stiffness of laying on the floor. The two of them are staring at me while growling, or probably talking to each other. Well that’s a little weird.

I get up lean backwards, giving my back a good crack. It felt satisfying and did relieve the tiniest bit of discomfort. Using my healing, it doesn’t take long to feel fully normal again. I look at the giant scar still under Suppress’ eye. Pity courses through me at it. Well, at least she didn’t strike slightly higher, permanently losing his sight. Judging that Suppressor might be taken soon for a final fight today, I get up and grab the muzzles yet again. I’m so sick of even seeing these damn things. Suppressor’s gets put on properly, but I keep Shatter’s a bit loose again. He almost seems appreciative of it. “When they come to take you, save your energy for the fight. You’re going to need everything you can get.”

They were put on just in time too since Masura comes in with a few others to take Suppress. “Already?” I question.

“Yeah, he wants this to be the only fight today. He couldn’t wait to see what this thing is made of.”

This “thing” is a he, you overdeveloped rotten cabbage.

The dragon must have been able to understand me since he doesn’t fight them that strongly as they drag him out by the chains. I sigh and look towards Shatter. “I hope he’s strong. He’s going to need everything he can get.”

I follow Masura into the stall. It’s odd being in a different one for once, and I’m horrified with how roughly they throw him around with the chains. I go up front and take off his muzzle yet again, allowing him to snap at the people. I smirk as he gets dangerously close to his teeth meeting the flesh of one of the men close to me on my left. He shrieks and stumbles far away.

He then gets shoved forward out of the stall into the arena. Masura and the others quickly leave, probably to the stands to get a better view of the fight higher up.

It’s dead silent in the stands. “Now, I know there are usually a few every day, but this is a chance that can’t be taken up. Today is a one fight only, and three against one. Now, that usually doesn’t happen with the lack of action that would normally cause, but this dragon has an incredibly special ability I want to see how they fare on their own,” three separate gates open, revealing what I feared. He’s given them a higher advantage by not all being together to have their abilities eliminated. Now, Toga’s not really a problem since Suppress doesn’t have an ally, but she’s still incredibly agile and dangerous.

Tomura is probably one of the oddest dragons. His scales look incredibly dry, despite not exactly being a desert dragon. Bright red eyes glowing with hate, and talons of dead dragons latched onto his body. Don’t know why they’re there, but it’s still such a sickening thing to see.

Dabi looks good as before with no slash wounds to be seen. Of course the fucker is willing to fully heal his dragons whenever they’re injured.

Toga is in front, Dabi on Suppress’ left, and Tomura on his right. There was an eerie stillness for a moment, almost like they're all waiting for something. That something was Tomura. He hissed something, and they all lunged for him. He manages to dodge all three. Tomura is trying to get a grip on him for disintegration, or decay, or whatever terrifying thing it is he does. Suppress is trying to keep an eye on him and ducks down in time to avoid Dabi’s fire. Toga tries to stab him with her tail while he’s lowered against Dabi’s fire and watching Tomura.

Turns out he was somehow also able to keep watch of Toga. He brings his tail in front of him and pushes Toga up without her realizing. Dabi’s fire hits her for a moment, making her let out a sound that makes Dabi stop. Even from here smoke is coming off of her back.

She jumps out of the way for Dabi to continue. He uses his ability to stop Dabi from using his hot fire. Since he’s so distracted by keeping his sight on Dabi, and ends up focusing more on Toga’s location. Tomura is able to get up on him again. He manages to grab Suppress' right arm. It’s not for long as he seems to notice immediately what the dragon’s ability does. It stops decaying as he glares at Tomura instead.

Dabi notices and tries to use his fire again. It works. So his ability must need to keep his eyes in contact with a dragon to stop their ability. Chunks of his arm fall away, leaving his arm to start bleeding rather heavily. Suppress flinches is obvious pain. He’s able to keep a level head and use Tomura’s grip on him to pull him in front in the path of Dabi’s fire. Really clever using a long-range foe’s ability to harm its allies.

Dabi doesn’t stop in time, greatly charring Tomura’s already bad scales as well.

All For One isn’t too happy of his favorite pawn being injured so quickly already. Well, it’s obviously his fault for the other two joining in the first place.

A sick pleasure grows in me at his frustrated stance of tight grip on his chair. Though pity courses through me as well looking at his partially decayed arm. Should have warned him about that.

Toga manages to ignore the pain of her burned scales and attempts to attack Suppress again. He swipes his tail as hard as he can, making Toga go flying and crash into the wall from her rather small size. Especially compared to the others. The back of her head hit the wall as well, and she slumps to the ground, unmoving. She doesn’t seem to be dead though, her stomach still slightly rising.

Now All For One seems to be getting angrier. He doesn’t seem to be the only one. Tomura lets out a rather angry growl. Suppress is facing me again, and blinks, though he really didn’t seem to want to. That’s all the two needed to go all-out on him again.

Tomura tries to grab him again but wasn’t able to. Suppress grabs right above his two front talons to prevent more decay. One thing going for him is he’s much stronger physically, so he’s able to manage quite easily keeping him pinned down.

With Dabi’s fire consistently being shot at him, he does something his body shows he didn’t really want to do. He tilts his head and leans down, biting into the sides of Tomura’s neck. He slowly continues to bite down harder as Dabi doesn’t cease using his fire at him. Tomura is visually starting to panic at this point.

I think I know his plan, but it probably won’t work. Dabi doesn’t really care about the others but tolerates them for his own enjoyment of the arena.

Looking at All For One, I freeze. He’s angrier than I’ve ever seen him. I can swear I see his hands shaking from here. Huh, he’s not usually the type to have strong visual emotion besides slight interest.

Eventually, there was a sickening “crunch”, indicating that Suppress must have bitten into bone. Tomura’s neck slumps to the side, and he can’t seem to pick his head back up.

All For One had enough as he stood up from his chair for the first time and I can see the chains going for Suppress again. The chains yank Suppress so harshly that he drops Tomura, and ends up being slammed into one of the walls himself.

My body freezes completely as All For One’s head turns to look directly at me. I’m happy Suppress was able to survive, but now I’m dreading what All For One’s going to do to him.

I rush back to Shatter since I can tell All For One is about to come in this time. He seems desperate to have the muzzle off again. His eyes almost light up as I enter. “Sorry, I can’t take it off yet. Your friend is in pretty bad shape though and will be coming shortly.”

I almost waited with bated breath for a good few minutes. This time, instead of Masura and the others, it was All For One himself, easily dragging the dragon along. The chains pull him back by the other and latch back onto the walls. He has chains wrapped around his snout like the other did before. He’s between me and the dragons, and I can see their expressions behind him. Suppress is still flinching in pain from his decayed flesh.

He turns his head to me. “Kill them both.”

I was in shock. I have never been demanded to kill a dragon, yet alone two before. He won fairly! Even with injuries! He and Shatter deserve to be let free!

I notice the two dragons tense behind him.

“I will not repeat myself. They nearly killed my best pawn. Nothing gets to pass my pawn. That will not stand, so they will be killed,” He looks at Shatter’s loosened muzzle. Fuck. “I noticed they seem to be trusting of you, so I’m making you do it. You have one hour,” he turns around and leaves.

I look at the wounds of his fight from earlier. You know what? Fuck him. If I die, I die.

“I think you both more than earned your freedom by now. Hell, neither of you should have been here in the first place. Do me a favor and warn the others to not come near here ever again.” Shatter tilts his head at me again as I take off his muzzle and the chains around Suppress' snout. Here’s to hoping they can understand me. The sword hanging on the wall out of reach of the two dragons should be able to break the chains.

My first priority is to fully heal that decayed part. The scar under his eye is sadly permanent now though. My hand glows its familiar green and it hovers over the wound. Unfortunately, it couldn’t be fully healed either, but the scar is much smaller than it would have been. I try my best with the burns, but it doesn’t do much.

The longer my hand hovers right above his scales and heals him, the more drained and tired I feel. It gets to the point my body tries to fall forward. I push my hand onto him to try keeping my balance. “Whew. Not quite… Used to using so much energy. Haha.” His shoulder that I’m leaning against twitches. I take it as my cue to step away and end up leaning against the wall not far behind me to catch my breath. Looking towards Shatter, he’s still in pretty good shape, but the wounds from before can be healed a bit more to make sure they don’t reopen.

I trudge over to him and do the same, ending up leaning on him like Suppress. This time even more tired though. I can’t rest yet. There’s so little time to get them free yet. I push myself off him and go to grab the sword. With my tired state it’s almost too heavy to be lifted.

The first thing was their wings with metal being wrapped around them and pulled outwards. I grab the chain closer to him to try preventing it from pulling. The sword gets slammed down as hard as possible, making the chain break. One by one, the others were broken too. Eventually, all were broken off of both. My arm is so sore from lifting the sword so many times, and being drained in the first place. My breath is incredibly ragged.

After dropping the sword after the final chain, I close my eyes and lean against the wall. It’s hard to stay awake. “There. Now… Get going before someone returns.”

Both of them stop towards the entrance and look at me. “Go!” I yell at them and point forward. They stay for a moment longer, then bolt out.

I stay leaned for a few minutes. That was beyond exhausting. Two familiar sets of footsteps enter.

“You damn traitor. I really thought you’d be better than the last. I should kill you now!”

I look towards the entrance. All For One and Masura. Guess just get it over with then.

All For One stops him with an arm in front of him. “No. They deserve much worse than death for their betrayal.”

Well shit.

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

Locked in a dark cell for a good week. Hardly any food, and quite possibly the bare minimum of water given for me to stay alive. At least it wasn’t permanent. Almost wish it was with that happens after leaving the cell. After leaving, he gave the others free rein to injure me whenever they pleased. Masura was more than happy to oblige, leaving me with some rather problematic injuries that made me so tired to heal I could barely heal dragons if I tried. Of course, now someone is always watching me when it’s my time to heal the dragons. My job is only partial now though since he wants someone more “loyal” for the job. Hopefully, those two are happy at least. That’s all that matters.

In speaking of that, today was a day I wasn’t in charge of it. But Masura sure as hell had a lot of fun tossing me around like a ragdoll. Many show pity for me, but they know not to help. I can’t blame them no matter how much it hurts. A younger one with green curly hair looks like he wanted to deck Masura himself. Same with the dual-haired one beside him. Another rather tall one with glasses stops them and uses a chopping motion to tell them something, making them not intervene. They were a bit too far to be heard. My body is too tired today to heal the recent wounds from him as well. Pretty sure my right eye is a black eye from it being stuck partially closed and obviously the pain.

While looking around to make sure he’s not near me or any of the others for now today, I stumble upon a rather intimidating-looking man. His back is facing me as someone with really long blue hair is talking to him. He just radiates a strong and uncomfortable type of feeling. Never seen them around before. He doesn’t even turn around. “Sorry, sir.” Some reason that seems to catch his attention. The other two, which is a rather pretty woman. Rather long and messy black hair turns around to lock steely-gray-like eyes with mine.

That scar reminds me too much of the dragon from before. Wasn’t the scar about the same place too? Huh, he must have been too interested in that fight and lacks self-preservation or something. His eyes widen for some reason. He must have been told by others to not even come near the now outcast.

I don’t even get to blink when he grabs one of my arms to pull me towards him again. My body instinctively flinches and gets prepared to be hit again. It never comes. My eyes open to see him staring at small cuts still bleeding slightly. His sight then immediately goes towards my swollen eye. There’s an odd fury that grows in his eyes the more he sees. Too tired to think what that must be about. I try to pull my arm free from his grip. ‘I’m sorry sir, but could you please let me go? I’m really tired and just want to go home for the day.”

He doesn’t. If anything, his grip gets slightly tighter from me trying to pull away. Not painfully so, but it’s there. The other turns to look, and her eyes widen a substantial amount. She looks at him. “They the one? They’re not looking so hot.”

“We got what we need. Tell Zashi and the others.”

She nods and pushes something hidden against her ear. “We found the target.” She says something else too, but my mind is too caught up in the “target” part.

T-target!? That snaps me to attention. What did All For One tell them? Are they looking for something and he pinned the blame on me that I have it? Did he hire them to make my life more insufferable?

A set of footsteps comes up rapidly. They must be running as fast as they could. It’s another male. He has incredibly long hair and some rather odd facial hair. He suddenly hugs me. “So glad to have finally found you! The week has been terrible! Sho! We shoulda taken then with us!”

I don’t know you weirdos. What kind of sick prank is this? I try to push him away. “You must have the wrong person. I don’t know either of you.” He latches on tighter. “C’mon, we’re not dragons now, but you gotta recognize us! Especially Sho’s scar!

...What? Looking closer, the blond one seems to have small scales poking at his clothing. That… This cannot be possible. I shake my head in disbelief. “There’s no way! Dragon shifters aren’t real!”

“Oh, we definitely are, dear- what happened!? Why do you have so many injuries!?”

“That Masura man I’m guessing. Problem child informed me of it not too long ago.”

Problem child?

The blond one almost seems to growl. “Don’t regret our decision for today then.”

“Decision?” I question.

They both grow a rather sadistic smirk. I can’t tell which is more unnerving. The blond’s is bigger and shows more of his teeth, but there’s just something about the black-haired one’s that seems more unnatural.

“Well, we’ve been lookin’ for ya for about a week now. We were starting to think he did kill you, and we weren’t happy. Besides! A dragon killer like him can’t live anyway. He’s a danger to our kind!” he turns towards the woman. “Give everyone the signal,” He turns towards this ‘“Sho” or whatever he is. “You should take them. Don’t want any more damage to our poor lovely healer, huh?” He smiles at me.

I’m… still trying to wrap my frazzled mind and body around this. I don’t get to though from the sudden thing of many of the people around suddenly growing rapidly in size, and obtaining dragon qualities.

It doesn’t even take a minute for them all to be full dragons, and ripped clothes everywhere. As well as the two familiar ones right in front of me. Shatter and Suppress.

Shatter picks me up and flies up a bit, being careful with his claws. He places me on Suppress’ back.

Can things please stop for two minutes to let me think!? Again, I don’t get to as Suppress takes off into the air. There’s nothing to really grab onto to not fall off, so I grab his hair. It’s surprisingly soft. Wasn’t expecting that. My hands make the hair wrap around my hands a few times to not have to clench it so tightly. I’d rather not fall to my death.

He either dosn’t feel me pulling on his hair or doesn’t care. I lean closer to ignore the air whipping by as he speeds around flying. The screaming of the people is also a bit too much. They have nothing to fend themselves since dragons have never attacked this place before. Usually they get caught before they do.

There’s the familiar screaming or yelling of Shatter in the distance. I look over to see him with multiple other dragons against All For One. He’s gotten a few chained to the ground, but the sheer amount of them that keep using their abilities against him is making it really hard for him to focus.

A familiar exploding dragon zooms past to fight one of his prized dragons he must have let free to help. They’re not helping much. They can’t. There are too many. Toga tries to stab him with her tail, but the exploding one is relentless. He has a sick smile, almost like he’s enjoying the fight. He almost too quickly manages to pin her to the ground and slams explosion after explosion onto her face.

Dabi is being managed by an oddly colored dragon that reminds me of the red and white-haired one from earlier. With him fighting Dabi is a green one with an oddly long tongue, and a pink and brown one who somehow can move large buildings to fall onto Dabi, making him constantly jump around to avoid being hit.

Tomura doesn’t seem to be having much luck either. The two must have informed the others of his ability. He’s against multiple with long-ranged abilities like Shatter.

Despite all the noise around, I’m getting even more tired with the rocking of his body with the movement of his wings. Same with his oddly warm scales being rather comforting, and hair draping around me like a blanket. Exhaustion overtakes me as the sounds of screaming people, roaring dragons, and crackling fire of houses slowly fades to silence with me drifting off.

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Not edited to the fullest capability. We die like captains with their sinking ships. Will be doing a part two with better yandere stuff...

….. Eventually…...

#yandere erasermic #yandere dragon erasermic #x reader #mha au #dragon shifter au #hizashi yamada x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere shouta aizawa

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servicetopkaradanvers · 3 years

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I'm not sure if this is exactly the right place to say this, but I don't know if there is. And you're a smart person and critical thinker who has talked about this before. If this is totally weird, you can just delete it ofc. I've never properly watched Supergirl but I started reading fanfic around the time my mental health got real bad so it was a comfort thing I didn't bring too much thought to. I really identify with Lena and in the past, part of me has understood her actions-

and I know that they're wrong. The anti-alien rhetoric is obviously an allegory for racism or homophobia. She's violated people's basic human rights. And I'm scared that I'm a bad person because sometimes, I kind of get it. Which is insane because i'm a lesbian enby of color, i mean i get targeted by most of the -ist/ism actions. And I'm also too tired to think about things critically all the time. Supercorp was my comfort fic, content thing-

I knew it was problematic (the whole James thing makes me sick to my stomach, scared and sad) but I didn't know that Lena as a character was written that way. The metaphors never really clicked in my head because I never thought about it, but now I feel absolutely horrible about myself because I like and identify with Lena. I'm not really sure how to move on from here- I'm just tired. I wish there could be just one thing, one piece of media that wasn't prejudiced (granted sg is not the place to go if you want decent rep and the like) and all of those things I said earlier. Its just me somehow trying to justify how I felt and empathized with something I shouldn't have. So yeah, sorry that was really long. I hope you have a lovely day- sorry for the spam

FIRST of all, you’re fine, babe! Both in sending me this and in enjoying The Bad Media. That’s my thesis here: You’re fine. With this in mind, let’s unpack this big ol suitcase:

We’re living in a fandom moment where more than ever before, we’re thinking about the ideas we consume in fiction and how they may or may not affect us. This is a net positive! Fiction is not reality, but it undeniably impacts it, so for this and many other reasons, we should always think critically about what resonates with us and why. Does this mean dissecting every facet of something to find all the ways it might fall in line with oppressive power structures? Absolutely not.

You, as an individual, do not owe anyone an explanation for why you enjoy anything. Period. How you relate to a given character or why you like them is nobody's business but your own.

Supergirl, as a piece of media, is singularly awful in its lackluster lipservice to progressivism while simultaneously refusing to deliver any progressive themes. Socially and politically, it is a useless liberal wet dream. Kara is an immigrant from a dead culture working as the muscle for a secret FBI offshoot with zero accountability for all of the other aliens in diaspora she has rounded up and dumped into a cell without trial. Alex is allegedly a lesbian, but the key points of her endgame relationship are constantly deemed not important enough to get screen time, which is made even more absurd when examined from the angle that this series is marketed directly toward LGBT people. An embarrassing percentage of villains on this show are women of color, which is particularly loud when there are only 2 women in the main cast who aren't white. And "main" is extremely generous, given that Kelly is just there to Give Advice Good and everything M'gann says and does is as dry as toast.

My point here is that the whole show is rotted to its roots, and whatever quietly libertarian or even fascism-enabling bullshit they push onto Lena in a given week is par for the crusty, shitty course. Kara deciding that she's ok with the alien detection device because "there are bad aliens" is a lovely (read: awful) microcosm of why this show sucks so fucking hard. "People are entitled to their opinions" is for debates on whether pineapple goes on pizza, not for whether we should casually out, endanger, and disenfranchise our [insert minority metaphor here] because some of them are mean.

But what I would love for this fandom to wrap its head around, and what I hope you understand, anon, is that just because it happens on the show, doesn't mean we have to give a rat's ass about it. What the hell is The Canon, anyway? Especially in the case for Supergirl, which can't even get its own continuity right. Especially for an IP that has been rebooted dozens of times before and will be rebooted again in the future. We can just decide that Lena realized the horrible injustices she enabled through her position of power. We can even decide that they just didn't happen at all! This is all fake. It's not set in stone. Who came up with it, anyway? A network with a list of buzzwords they want included and a couple of D-tier showrunners cranking down caffeine to meet an absurdly tight deadline. It's not special. I can guarantee that you care about it infinitely more than they do, and you haven't even watched the damn show.

On a more personal level, people who are hurt, depressed, or traumatized have always and will always look for themselves in fiction. Myself included! And despite what lofty platitudes there may be on the matter, suffering does not make us kind. It does not make us better. Sometimes it's just suffering. Often it pulls us further from who we are meant to be. Often it just makes us "worse."

Trauma has made Lena emotionally brittle. A lifetime of manipulation and abuse has taught her to compartmentalize herself and lock her feelings behind a maze of doors. When she does let love in, she accepts it so wild and vulnerable that she can't see the red flags behind the rosy lenses. She latches so hard onto people she deems virtuous that she holds them to a standard none could fulfill. Her pain has to go somewhere, so it oozes out of her, into Non Nocere, into the post-reveal rift. She's a powder keg, and Kara spent 4 years shoveling more gunpowder onto the pile while holding the match between her teeth.

And despite these fatal flaws that make perfect sense through the eyes of Lena's trauma, she is so full of love. Like Kara, her suffering did not make her kind. She is kind in spite of her suffering. These are the characters we are drawn to when we're hurting. Lena’s trauma is an inextricable part of her, but it is not all of her, and neither are her mistakes.

There truly is not and never will be a piece of media that is absolutely innocent of the harmful structures thrust upon us by society, because we ourselves also participate in that society whether we are critical of it or not, whether we strive to change it or not. I'm flawed. You're flawed. Bettering ourselves is not a journey toward an ultimate destination of perfection. It is a garden we nurture in an endless labor of love because the joy that comes from seeing it flourish and change vastly outweighs the work we put into it and the weeds popping up around its unkempt edges. This is a lesson Lena herself could probably stand to internalize. Probably with lots and lots of therapy. Lots. And lots.

So, to circle back to the start of this? You're fine. You recognized the logic in a traumatized character's mistakes because our own gravest errors more often than not stem from the ways we have been harmed in the past. It's what makes Lena (or, at the very least, the many adaptations of Lena that exist in this fandom) a good character. She is, to her core, characterized proof that a crumbling foundation and poisonous soil do not define us. Which is why watching her heal and grow and learn a healthier kind of love is so, so wonderful.

In closing, I think it's worth mentioning that being critical of media does not mean that we stop enjoying the parts of it we like. There is a lot of gold to be pulled from the steaming pile of shit that is CW Supergirl, and that's why we're all here in the first place. So I really hope you can continue to enjoy it in whatever way makes you smile <3

#Anonymous #lena

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mainveyn · 3 years

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《 nebulous love 》suna rintarou x reader

wc : 1.6k

genre : absolute angst 💔

a/n : theres a lil scenario where u have to hide in the locker ik its abit weird but just assume that the locker is big enough for u to hide in there lolol

series : silent love ▪︎ unspoken love ▪︎ nebulous love ▪︎ ardent love

you wanted to walk up to him, hold his hand and congratulate him in person. you swear you really do. but you couldn't, not when a swamp of girls are surrounding him. he has a huge smile on him, unlike his usual deadpan expression. after all, this is a crucial match for his team and their victory is a big step for their upcoming spring high tournament. even he can break a smile that bright because of that. you told yourself it wasn't because of that girl who passed him a water bottle and snuggled at his arm like it's her spot to take.

"wait," you mumbled out unconsciously, because you found yourself ridiculous at being upset. who am i to be upset by that, you thought as you fiddled at the hem of your jacket with your eyes casted at the floor beneath. you decided you probably won't get to talk to him now. not after seeing him playfully pinched her cheek with so much affection. you walked out of the gym without a second thought, ignoring the fact that you met his eyes briefly and he tried to wave at you. you turn away like you didn't see him and suna didn't like that.

strolling through the hallways, you wondered if it's even necessary for you to be there when he has her. she looks a little too young for his taste, probably still a middle schooler but it's really none of your concern. all you know is the moment she is here, the world you shared with suna has broken apart. you expected that and you swear you tried your best to move on. you didn't think it was his fault that you caught feelings for him from the start, which is why you can never push him away. staying by his side while the pain eats you away becomes a routine now.

a soft tune rings through your pocket, a special ringtone you set for him. you received a text from suna about him telling you to wait at his clubroom, much to your confusion. even so, your feets take you to where he wants you to be without hesitation.

no one seems to be there as you step foot into the clubroom, noting how clean and tidy the place is right now. you assume everyone has left as you find yourself sitting on the bench in the clubroom, texting him back that you're already here. your reflection on the little mirror at the corner almost made you laugh at your pathetic self. just how easy it is for you to crawl back to him, your heart winces at your own bitter remarks and feel your breath stuck at your throat.

all thoughts are wiped out as you heard the door open, his eyes slightly brightened up at the sight of you. you mentally scold yourself for reading too much into it, but what he did next only throws you into another labyrinth of confusion. "so, what do you want me to come here for?" you enquired but he wordlessly linked his arms around you in a tight embrace. you feel his hot breath inches away from your cheeks before he snuggles into your hair to bask in your scents.

he pulled away a few seconds later as he cocked his eyebrows at you. "you didn't like the crowd so i thought it's better to talk here," his warm smile made all your words tied in your throat as you found yourself shaking under the pressure of your heartache. he only thinks of you as a friend, nothing more than what you felt for him. and yet his affections made you fall deeper into despair.

feets glued on the same spot, you couldn’t move a muscle and watch his smile slowly turn into a playful smirk. he mistaken your silence as being embarrassed and comments on how cute you are. he continued to tell you how happy he is for today’s matches, describing his blocks today are a total shutdown against their opponent with a slightly excited tone. his unusual enthusiasm instantly brought a smile upon you, genuinely felt happy for him as you resonated with him as a volleyball player as well.

but the rest of the conversation are drowned out of your mind as every second passes only makes it harder for your heart to continue beating. you instinctively have your right hand clutch onto your other arm out of anxiousness and he immediately spotted it. after all, he had spent so much time with you to know you like the palm of his hand. emerald eyes briefly scanned your feature until he completely stopped talking. he cupped his warm hands on your cheeks, inching closer to you as your back fully leaned against the lockers behind you now.

“you okay?” suna whispered in that tone again, a voice filled with so much love that you thought only you’re special enough to hear it. you shake your head with tears threatening to fall, attempting to shake his hands off of you too. as you tried to come up with an excuse for you to leave, he held your face on his palms again with a stern expression.

“y/n, you know you can always talk to me.” no, you didn’t want to deal with him now. not when you are not given enough time to prepare yourself and put up another fake smile to reassure him. he already has someone he loves. this isn't right. you knew that so you need to calm yourself down before reassuring him ―mostly yourself that you’re fine and content at just being his friend.

but no gods are here to hear your prayers today, you’re not given any chance to relieve the pain growing in your chest. not even a second after he released his hold on you, suna pulled you back abruptly by the back of your neck and pressed his lips against yours. your eyes widened and balled your fist on his jersey at the sudden contact. a mixture of hurt and joy flowing through you, but you wished all of these were just a dream.

his fingertips brushed past your face as he gently tilted your head to the other side to mold his lips with yours better. you should stop him but the way he touches and holds you is the only thing you want to savour right now. you don’t even want to think why is he doing this to you. everything feels perfect now, except for the growing ache in your heart because you knew this isn’t right. as selfish as it sounds, you want him to be yours and yours only. because he already owns your heart, without asking. it isn’t fair at all.

he released his grip on you but still lingered on your shoulder, waiting for your reaction. you tried to avoid his eyes, hair covering the side of your face as you moved further away from him. you heard him calling for you but what’s more terrifying right now is the loud bickering of the miya twins and their rushed footsteps echoed through the hallways.

you quickly shoot him a panicked look, and he only returns the same expression. just as atsumu violently twisted the door open, suna hastily opened up his locker and ushered you to hide in there. neither of you are in the right mind nor given sufficient time to think it through, so you comply without questioning. you scrambled into that dark little space, putting yourself into another void of misery.

“yer so annoyinー oi sunarin! why are yer still here?” atsumu rounded the corner, surprised that the brunette hadn't left the school like he usually would. suna shot him an annoyed look before telling the twins to leave him alone, pretending he was just chilling and scrolling through his phone all this while. osamu interjected, reminding him to get changed before kita found out and lectured him about it.

suna tried to act as normal as he could while keeping an eye on his locker, not wanting to drag this any longer. he didn’t show it but he want nothing more than to beat himself up now, grimaced at himself internally for making you suffer.

but you wouldn’t have known, not when you shrinked into the corner as you clung onto your knees like your life depended on it. tears pricking at the corner, you refused to let them fall as you hid your face on top of your knees. what am i even doing here? why do i even have to hide? those unanswered thoughts occupied your mind that you didn’t even notice the twins had left and suna had opened his lockers. the lights from outside slowly seeped through, exposing your vulnerable self right in front of him.

“y/n?” he finds his voice come out strained as he catches sight of your shoulder trembling. he tries to move closer to you but all it takes is a suppressed sob slipped out of you for him to back off.

not bothering to wipe off your uncontrollable tears, you attempt to stand up at your own effort. suna offers his hand only for you to reject it silently. his hand remained there, hoping that you'll take it like how you usually would as he watched you struggling to get on your feets.

“y/n,” he called out again, he will try as many times as it takes. as long as you’d just spare him a glance, he swore he won’t make you cry ever again. for the first time, he hates how he got too comfortable in his usual wordless interactions with you. because he has so much to tell you and you wouldn’t have known.

probably never as you began to run out of the clubroom, walking out of his life as well.

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

#suna x reader #suna x y/n #suna x you #suna fluff #suna angst #haikyuu suna

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love-takes-work · 5 years

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When someone toxic needs a friend

I just wanna add a little personal reflection to the discussion of Spinel’s treatment in Steven Universe: The Movie.

A few signposts so you know where I’m starting with this:

A criticism I’ve seen:

Steven was not particularly warm to Spinel. He did not hug her. He did not offer to be her friend. He spoke carelessly and triggered her toward becoming murderous again. He only cared about what she could do for him.

A perspective I’ve seen:

LOTS of people with borderline personality disorder or strong feelings about abandonment personally relate to Spinel and are critical of Steven from this perspective.

Rebecca Sugar’s commentary on Spinel:

The thing about Spinel is that she’s a really toxic person.

She’s so toxic that she’s literally trying to poison people.

In my interactions with friends who have had a history difficult enough to make it hard for them to trust other people and sometimes even actively want to hurt others, it’s just a very difficult situation to navigate. In the case of Spinel and all of these characters, that’s extremely exaggerated because cartoons have the ability to be extreme exaggerations. I wanted to explore what it’s like when you’re trying to help someone who really doesn’t want to help themselves, who wants to embody the negative feelings that they have about themselves. I think that’s something really real. I hadn’t seen that in a cartoon before.

Spinel, unlike many other characters, actually has the goal of hurting people, which is new territory for the show. She really wants to hurt Steven, and there’s a reason that she does—because she’s in so much pain. I just wanted to explore all the dimensions of that.

I also think Steven has his way of trying to handle and dissolve conflict. It’s not necessarily a good way for him to handle this situation. It really leaves him in a difficult state, and I think what I wanted to show in the way that they interact is that at a certain point, when you can’t help someone, you have to be able to protect yourself.

Ultimately, he can’t really convince her to change. It’s something she’ll have to want for herself. But what he can do is protect himself from her, making it impossible for her to hurt him.

It’s sort of up to you if you would like to love her. If you watch this movie and she, you know, frustrates you, that is totally fair. I want that to be a big part of who she is.

[From the AV Club interview]

So here are a few things I want to shed light on.

It’s very interesting that Rebecca intended Spinel to be read as “a toxic person” because so many fans fell in love with her, said they’d be her friend, hated intensely on Pink Diamond because of what she did to abandon the poor Gem, and sympathized with her directly. But Rebecca was looking at Spinel from Steven’s perspective. And that’s also what I did.

I’ve been Steven. I have VERY much been Steven.

When you meet someone who was done dirty, when you recognize the horror they’ve been through, when you see how much pain they are in and agree they have the right to be angry, it’s natural for empathetic people to offer themselves as comfort.

But when you’re Steven, you also know it isn’t YOUR fault either. Before you have the ability and experience to set boundaries, you can get sucked into other people’s stormy waters and think you’re helping if you drown in solidarity with them. What’s really important to preserving yourself is learning that you can stand on the boat and toss a life preserver. That it doesn’t ACTUALLY HELP to jump in the water and sink with them.

Some folks are angry that Steven didn’t jump right into sacrifice himself on the altar of friendship in the service of an intense, literally murderous stranger who tried to poison him and his planet and lash out at his friends, robbing them of their rich pasts and their relationships because all of it hurt HER so much. It is SO easy to understand WHY SPINEL WAS ANGRY. But nothing she was doing to Steven, his friends, or the Earth was going to fix her problems, and furthermore, she FULLY UNDERSTOOD that it was NOT THE FAULT of any of the people she took her anger out on. It was irrational, yes, and that is part of her dysfunction. But also, in these situations, what helps explain it still does not excuse it.

Some have railed at Steven saying he somehow forgave genocidal tyrants like the Diamonds but couldn’t be friends with a damaged Gem like Spinel who just wanted friendship. The big difference there is that Steven got involved with the Diamonds when both parties believed he was a different person. The Diamonds believed he was the lost Pink Diamond, and Steven has also spent much of his superhero life believing he WAS his mother and was therefore obligated to accept punishment for her crimes or to clean up the messes she made. Now that he knows he is not her and that she did some pretty horrible stuff, he also wants the right to stop feeling responsible for every person Pink hurt in the entire region of space.

Steven gave Spinel basically compassionate treatment. He did not abuse her. He did not insult her. He occasionally coddled her when it seemed important (and though some said he was too businesslike while he pursued his mission, he was literally looking at the world ending within two days if he didn’t solve the problem). And most importantly . . . .

He let her leave the garden.

Spinel stayed in the garden all those millennia because Pink Diamond told her they were playing a game. All that time, she had visions of Pink returning so she could see her smile, hear her laughter. We see a sequence where she tried to follow Pink out of the garden and Pink manipulated her into staying willingly. We watch those feet leaving and one pair of feet staying behind. We see Pink disappear.

When Steven goes to leave the garden, Spinel follows in the same manner. Some have criticized him for letting go of her hands.

But he invited her out of the garden. He didn’t say stay. He said come with me.

As he sang about her deserving someone better, he was sincere. But he did not say the person to make her feel found should be him. He did not want to take on another person with thousands of years of baggage who would require a specific brand of attention and so much tenderness to avoid snapping. He did not allow her to be held by the hand and led out. He recognized that she needed encouragement to leave this place because of what was done to her, but he wanted her to take the steps.

Compassionate people are crushed all the time under the weight of needy people who make it hurt to love. People like Steven can acknowledge that Spinel deserves love and deserves to be happy without accepting that it’s heartless to stop short of personally doing it. Especially when you literally have to take physical, mental, and emotional damage as a general consequence of offering support and counseling. It is sometimes just beyond what you can do.

I made the mistake several times of getting very close to someone who treated me poorly while taking comfort in my presence. I cared that they were hurt and I didn’t know how to say “You deserve love” without stepping in and loving them. In EVERY case I was involved with, the person went from initially grateful to “why don’t you help me more?” shockingly quickly, and two of them deliberately tried to create situations where I would be trapped with them and isolated from others.

I could get very personal here but I don’t think I need to. Those of us who relate all too well to Steven wanting to help others will have been in this situation. Your heart hurts for people who live with pain that has never touched you, but when they’ve made it clear with one of their first actions that they feel satisfied at the idea of ruining your life, trusting them could mean the end of you. Especially if they demand that you risk life and limb to fix and save them before you’d dare to call it love, and especially if they want to be fixed without feeling responsible for initiating any of it. Some people mistake suffering for working hard toward a goal. Both can hurt but only one is constructive. If I’m expected to spend extensive resources on someone, I need some partnership in the goal, and I can’t accomplish that with someone whose wish for companionship manifests as “I want you to feel as bad as I do, and will take steps to hurt you so I have someone to cry with.”

Steven risked his actual life while he didn’t have powers so he could go talk to Spinel, and he wouldn’t fight her when she wanted to fight. He protected himself while she spent her anger. He STILL put himself in the line of fire far more than a less compassionate person would. He took time and tenderness to listen to her story and sympathize with her, tell her she deserved better, bear witness to what she’d become after being treated like a discarded plaything, and bring her hope with promises of a new future and a way to feel found.

Sadly, Spinel flipped back to being murderous at the first sign that Steven might be about to prioritize someone other than her, reframing his reasonable needs as if he was planning to abandon her, isolate her, discard her. This was a trauma reaction, yes, and she isn’t entirely to blame for being upset because she was worried she was just being used and none of her actions were logically thought through.

But does someone ever “deserve” the friendship of a specific person who can’t feel warm toward them because of their OWN bad experiences?

No!

Steven has a big heart but he has his very own huge storehouse of trauma, and being physically attacked with his family and planet put in danger over the actions of his mother is at the top of the list. Instead of assuming that the person who has trauma the loudest is the most hurt, can’t we just acknowledge that Spinel’s and Steven’s respective traumas make them NOT the best match for friendship?

The ending of the movie, with Spinel going off with the Diamonds, might seem a little disturbing with all the codepencency floating around there, but if you want to talk about compassion, I think this is a good place for Spinel to start.

She just wanted to make Pink Diamond laugh and enjoy her life. She longed to do that for so long and then it all ended when she found out she would NEVER GET TO DO IT. I think bonding with the other Diamonds and having a familiar, safe place to experience the kind of love she’s used to will be a good FOUNDATION for building herself into a person beyond that. For now, she needs comfort. I hope they treat her well.

#steven universe #steven universe the movie #gif #long post #spinel #su analysis #my su analysis #myblog

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rayofsunas · 3 years

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chasm | albedo

A/n: hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe <33 as you can see, I’m back on my albedo bs, so I decided to write this out finally 🥺🥺 and omg let me just say, I love this so much! . thank you to my very special anon “🌱” you know who you are, for requesting this! ❤️ I’ve decided the reader is female, but if anyone would like a male or gender neutral version, let me know! I also kinda did my own take on this since it’s not explained what Albedo’s “darker side” is. enjoy everyone!! ❤️

Summary: albedo has been gone for an awfully long time, somewhere in Dragonspine. you’re worried about him, naturally, so you go look for him. he’s refusing help for some odd reason, and you find that he’s having trouble. you let him know you’d never even think of leaving his side, no matter what.

Parings: Albedo/Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word count: 2.2k

The ashy blonde hadn’t been down from Dragonspine in weeks, nearly a full four months. And you couldn’t lie, you were growing worried.

It wasn’t unusual, pretty typical behavior for the genius alchemist actually. But, by now he would’ve sent a letter of some sort, clueing somebody in on his whereabouts, if he needed more supplies, etc. He hadn’t done that yet. And you were afraid he probably wouldn’t.

Sucrose was the last to speak to him, which happened to be two months ago when he sent her down the mountains, back to Mondstadt. She had told you that he was fine when she left, busy dissecting some strange specimen he’d found. Typical Albedo entranced and focused on everything the mysteries the world had to offer.

You didn’t mean nor want to rain on his parade, but you would have to make the journey to Dragonspine and check on him. You couldn’t just sit here, as his friend and lover.

It was a surprise after the third month that Jean hadn’t sent a team to check on him, but then it all made sense when she explained her reasoning. The only thing stopping her from sending a team up to check on him was the fact that all of the able soldiers were either injured or off on missions; Kaeya was off on some personal business away from Mondstadt, Varka and his team were still on their long strenuous mission, the Honorary Knight was still in Liyue, and Hertha wasn’t authorized to travel outside of Mondstadt.

It was a relief you were the captain of the exploration team, tasked with exploring Teyvat, bringing back information for maps to be drawn, possible paths to be made, and finding new lands. You, on the other hand, were authorized. It was just a matter of getting permission from the Acting Grand Master.

“Jean, may I please have the authorization to take a small team with me to Dragonspine?” You asked the blonde who seemed to be busy filling out paperwork. Most likely configuring new formations and teams, since the majority of the soldiers were unable to travel right now.

“All able soldiers are unavailable,” She reminded you, eye’s briefly lifting from the wordy documents, before glancing back down to write something. “If you wait a few days, I can send a team up with you to find Albedo.”

A few days. You had a feeling she would tell you that. That wouldn’t work...

You rocked back and forth on your heels, “Excuse my impatience, but I’d prefer to leave now.”

She stared at you, eyes empty for a while, thinking, though a brief smile shaped her lips. “Do you believe you can make the trip by yourself?”

Sure, the cold was something you weren’t accustomed to, but you’d do anything for Albedo. Even travel aimlessly through a snowstorm. You nodded eagerly.

“If you’re not back within three days' time, I will send a few soldiers after you.” She explained.

“Thank you.” She bowed her head.

“Good luck, Knight.”

Thankfully, you remembered the general location of Albedo’s hideout in Dragonspine. You could thank your excellent memory - having trained your brain for years mesmerizing back roads and maps - visiting more than once also made it much easier as well.

You reached Dragonspine within a few hours and made the trek up to Albedo’s hideout in less than two hours. The sky was greying the higher you got and the snow only seemed to fall quicker and land on your exposed cheeks like sharp pellets. A snowstorm was approaching, you noted, you better hurry.

Venturing deeper into the medium-sized jut out in the mountain, you could see a single small flame, lighting up the back end, but other than that, the cave was encompassed in darkness.

“Albedo?” You called out to your lover, noticing an onslaught of shrewd books, some open, some with pages ripped and torn, only a few had the luck of not being tarnished. “Are you here?” You asked again, the only response was the echo the cave shot back.

Though, in a heap on the floor by the fire, you found exactly what you were looking for. As you approached, the flames became more visible and now you could see more of Albedo. He was oddly on his side, leaning against the back of the rocky cave wall, legs loosely curled into his chest. More of those books he adored so much were shrewd around him, along with his own notebooks, filled with scribbled words.

“Albedo!” He didn’t appear to be moving, only when you practically flung yourself at him was when you saw shallow breaths, chest moving faintly. Furthering your inspection, you gripped his arms and leaned down to his chest, putting your ear right to where his heart is.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You sighed, forehead lowering onto his chest out of relief. He was alive, thank goodness.

You still couldn’t see his face though. Ashy blonde hair shielding it, soft bangs hiding his eyes. The only thing your eyes saw was the shape of his lips and the bridge of his nose.

“What’re you doing here like this?” You asked, hoping he would just look at you. His uncharacteristically odd positioning and the fact that he hadn’t even uttered a word yet were enough to leave you concerned.

Maybe his time in the icy mountains, in solitude, was not beneficial to him like originally thought...

“Can you speak?” You asked, confused as to what was going on. Maybe he was too cold to speak. You noted from gripping his arms earlier, that they were ice cold, goosebumps on usually unmarred, soft skin. The small fire was doing nothing to keep him warm and you weren’t sure if he had any warming bottles or Goulash left... Presumably not, hence the reason he was as cold as ice. The real question was, why was he still here, suffering like this, in the cold? Despite popular belief, he knew when to leave dangerous environments when they were a threat to him; all knowledge, research, and experiments aside. No, this was something different... Something was terribly wrong.

“I have a few warming bottles,” You explained, reaching into your cloak pocket, slender fingers enclosing around the small bottom, taking it out of your pocket. “I know these things aren’t entirely useful, but it'll help warm you up for a little while.”

“No, don’t waste them on me, please,” He whispered. Hissing in pain, reaching for his head. “You need them to get back down the mountain.” The alchemist said lastly.

“Waste them?” You whispered to yourself, ignoring your questions when you heard him hiss. “You’re in pain,” You stated, eyes narrowing to search for any sign of blood or wound. None from what you could see. “I’m not going down the mountain without you.”

Were his wounds internal? His head seemed to be hurting. You weren't a doctor, but maybe it was from the cold, that was plausible. A headache of sorts, a symptom of hypothermia, though you hoped that weren’t the case...

He needed to be warmer, as soon as possible. “Would you like my cloak? Here.” You were already shrugging your cloak off and draping it over his shoulders before you even got a reply.

“Please,” He started, sluggishly easing the article of clothing off of him. “Put that back on, you’ll freeze to death, love.”

Archons, why did he have to be selfless? He was already in a much, much, worse state than you, and he was still worried about your wellbeing. You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. “You’re already beating me to it and I won’t allow that.” You said, refusing the cloak. More heat, you needed more heat.

You gripped his shoulders, letting him know you were still here. “I’m going to start some more fires, stay put, okay?” With that, you stood and took out some matches. A few small piles of dead leaves and twigs were already around the cave, they’d long ago burnout, but you would take it. You were thankful you didn’t have to leave the cave, leave Albedo.

As you lit each of the dead piles of nature, Albedo muttered, “You need to leave me here,” He then paused, you heard shifting and rustling. With a quick worried glance back, you saw him trying to stand, your cloak falling to the ground. “Get the-” Another pause. It seemed another headache washed over him. “Honorary Knight...” Forgetting the last pile, you rushed towards him, grabbing his lower arms gently, hoping to steady him.

“Lumine,” You said, “She’s in Liyue, I’m afraid she’ll be there for a while.” You usually would’ve sent a sassy retort back his way, playfully of course. But the seriousness of this situation stopped you. Good choice, Y/n.

He repeated, “Leave me here.” Your head shook. You weren’t leaving without him, you just wouldn’t. You had this awful gut feeling that if you left, he wouldn’t be here when you returned.

“No, I’m here to bring you home.” You explained.

His eyes still weren’t visible. “Home? No, not to Mondstadt. You can’t take me there.”

“I wouldn’t take you anywhere else, other than there,” This wasn’t making sense... Why won’t he look at you? What is he hiding? Does he have an injury on his face? Taking him in your arms, you allowed yourself to hug him, hoping he’d open up and share his concerns. “Please, Albedo, let me see your face.”

His head shook profusely, trying to push you away, though failing. “I’m terribly afraid I can’t show you. It’s already happening- In less than an hour, you’re going to be in danger... You’re already in danger now.”

“Please don’t make me ask you to leave again.” His voice sounded weak, distraught, saddened.

“You don’t have to, just tell me what I can do.”

A long pause. He was fighting with himself, it was obvious to you now. He sounded as if he was begging you to stay, his words were saying otherwise. But why?

“Leave...” He pleaded.

“No,” You refused stubbornly. “I’ll do anything for you, leaving is not one of them.”

He hissed again, this time successfully managing to push you away, shuffling further back into the cave.

“You’re not making any sense, Albedo,” You said softly, following after him. “You’ve kept too many secrets. Not anymore, you can tell me.” Your lover fell to the ground again, this time landing on his back. You gasped, rushing over to him.

As you stood over him, you could see his bangs were pushed off his sweaty forehead, his left arm splaying across his eyes; shielding them from you once again. But underneath it, you could see a faint glow. Red...

His teal, cerulean eyes were no longer present. Now a deep shade of red, alike to that of scarlet quartz, took over. Was this the fault of an experiment gone wrong? Had he been poisoned? A curse even?

Crouching down beside the alchemist, you wondered. “What’s hurting you...” A slender and delicate hand reached out to remove his arm. He fought back with all his strength to keep you from removing his arm, but eventually, you managed to succeed.

Now with his hand at his side, you were left staring at what he’d tried so hard to conceal. You were shocked to be staring at what you were, though not entirely scared. Any ounce of fear was towards the fact that whatever this was, was visibly and prominently hurting him, evident by the odd ways he hissed in pain and coddled his head. You weren’t afraid he’d harm you as he assumed. He never resorted to violence and he wouldn’t at a time like this; you trusted him entirely.

Albedo stayed quiet for some time and if it weren’t for the deep, unsteady breaths, you would have assumed he’d passed out from the fall. It sounded like complete and utter pain and suffering, but he was alive.

It was obvious all of the pain was a result of the glowing coming from his now, mysterious pair of eyes, you realized that now.

“I can see the glow...” You said, he momentarily stopped breathing deeply. Ashamed, disgusted, afraid. “I’m not afraid, I’m more worried about your wellbeing.”

The blonde smiled weakly, eyes glistening with tears. Relief? Sadness? Anger? You weren’t sure, probably all three and much more than he could ever say. “Wrongfully, selfless in this moment.”

“I could say the same about you, love.” You chuckled, remembering minutes ago how badly he’d been trying to save and protect you.

Albedo weakly sat up, carefully scooting to lean his back against the stone wall, staring up at the cavern's ceiling. You followed him, reaching over to grab his hand, head laying on his shoulder. You could feel his hand trembling. Whether it be from fear, the cold, or the fact that something was overcoming him, you weren’t sure...

“I’m going to stay here with you, through whatever this is,” You admitted. “You’re not going through this without me.”

He nodded, eyes lulling shut.

Stay awake for me please, I know it hurts but please.

“I love you.” He whispered, head falling on yours, breaths finally shallowing to a comfortable pace. He was steadying, at least for now.

“I love you, too.”

Of course, you meant what you said. You’d always mean it and you would never retract that statement. But, if you managed to survive this and not die from hypothermia, Albedo’s screams of pain and pleads for you to end him, would haunt you for the rest of your existence.

2.22.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #albedo #albedo x reader #poor albedo yall we gotta do whatever we can to protect him

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