#its essentially ''if you let anyone touch you at any moment they will be able to see your deepest darkest thoughts and they will hate you''
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Bro just wanted to smash and rule the world go figure
I AM JOKING BTW, I absolutely love how you write Makarov, he is so messed up Canon Makarov is extremely messed up; have yall seen the list of crimes he committed IT WAS A WHOLE ESSAY, so no, i will not hear anyone out if someone just as mention Makarov and the word “kinda” in the same sentence
Im curious though (and this is in terms of writing not by your charcter/personality!!) was the plane scene supposed to go in this kinda direction cause I remember reading the scene after they touched down and Makarov mentioned that Roach couldn’t walk (??) like has Makarov in your own vision ever thought of just being a huge A-hole and traumatising dear ol bug here early on in the story, Of course you don’t have to answer if this goes beyond your boundaries tho
Okay but Makarov is kinda 👀👀/j
As for your question, I've actually had a few people question this in the comments before along with a couple of people who definitely thought that was what I was implying in that scene, so let's talk about it.
Warnings ahead for discussion of dub-con and non-con:
So I would like to just start off by saying that when I initially introduced Makarov, I never even intended to take is as far as I did. Like the seduction scene was never even supposed to happen. All of that was meant to be left up to interpretation.
However, when I first started writing Makarov in his first scene, I was really struggling because thats just the kind of villain that he felt like to me? Like I think I've mentioned it before in one of the posts about him, but I do think that if the cod fandom had really blown up like it has back when MW2 and MW3 came out, there would be a shit ton of stuff about Makarov fanfic wise.
Like, in Canon, he's very smooth and calculated. Whenever we hear him speak, he is calm and collected. Even at the end of MW3, when his entire plan has failed and fallen through, he's still so calm. He still finds it in himself to calmly taunt Price about Soap's death. Compare this also with Allen's death where Makarov makes a point to pull him in close before shooting him, and my mind was going one direction. Smooth villain who plays psychological games.
So the way that manifested in that first scene with Roach, was through the touching. He's showing Roach that he's in control. And that was all the touching was really meant to be, was showing control.
Then we get to the church scene, the infamous church scene. While I was writing this, I kinda got hit hard with the question of, "why is Makarov keeping Roach alive?"
Like I'd considered the question briefly in earlier chapters, but I was never forced to actually face it until I got to that chapter. Because I wanted to write this torture scene. I could see it so vividly in my head. But why would Makarov torture this guy? Why would he keep Roach alive.
At this point I considered the sort of obsessive love thing and I decided "okay, its not going to be just up for interpretation anymore. Its going to be explicit." So I wrote the church scene and I kept writing their interactions with the thought that I was never going to take it further. Makarov was never actually going to get his hands on Roach in that way.
So when I wrote the plane scene, I actually did not have any form of S/A in my mind at all. I wanted to press Makarov's touchieness. I wanted to press his obsession/love for Roach. But that was it and I wrote it without S/A in mind.
Roach not being able to walk was supposed to imply that it wasn't just that one moment of Makarov hurting him that we saw, but rather that Makarov had essentially tortured him on the plane ride back. It actually wasn't until I had people comment on it that I realized it could be perceived that way. And I am all up for interpretation, so if someone believed that that happened, then that's for them to decide. However it was never intended to be that way.
Then we got to the next chapter. To the seduction scene. I cannot tell you where the idea for this chapter came from. All that I know is that I had two scenes in mind. One where Roach has a dream about his Past! Simon where Past! Simon tells him how seductive he is without even trying. And another scene where Roach quotes Makarov's words from the plane back to him.
I actually struggled with this chapter a lot. While writing it came rather easy to me, I'm a very anxious person and I knew that this was taking a step further than I had intended to go with the fic. I kept trying to justify it in my mind of like "oh its going to be implied but nothing will actually happen!"
Eventually I just had to sit down with myself and go, "Its my fic, if people don't like it, they don't have to read. This is how the story has naturally progressed. You know that you won't take it further than this."
So in the initial idea for this chapter and the following ones, it was going to be that more intimate touches were the extent of what happened.
That went down the drain very heavily with Chapter 19.
When I started writing that scene at the end with Makarov, it actually took me much longer than it should have to write. I had the ideas, I knew I wanted it to be painful, but I kept stopping because I felt like I was taking things too far. Again, I'm a very anxious person, I never intended the fic to go down this path.
This was the only chapter in which I genuinely considered writing out a scene of explicit S/A. It would have been closer to the end. Its mentioned during one of the last sections that Makarov shoves his hand under Roach's shirt and into his pants to dig into his wounds. I'd considered, at this moment, having Makarov forcefully kiss Roach and literally grab him while muttering about what his plans were for him when he got him alone.
I did genuinely consider it. I even came here to post about whether or not I should do it or not. But the second that someone commented mentioning it, I decided that I didn't want to do that. I did not want to take things that far.
What we have instead, and the absolute farthest that I've been willing to take it is dub-con. Because while Roach "consented" to Makarov's affections, the truth is that he was only doing it to survive.
This is something that has actually been coming up in some of the chapters I'm writing now. And even this is causing Roach a lot of distress and self-hatred, I just don't think I would have been able to write a scene with explicit S/A or even implied that it happened and be able to properly handle the fall out of it.
That all being said, I do think Makarov definitely thought about Roach a lot and definitely fantasized about him. But I do think, with the way I wrote him, it wouldn't have made sense in the end for him to actually S/A Roach or even think about it.
You'll notice in his POV that I wrote, while he does fantasize about Roach a lot (like a lot, man is so horny for Roach) he always stops himself and controls himself. He tends to mention that he "needs to take things slow." This is his mind set even to the point that he doesn't take things further even after Roach has given "consent."
This is because his end goal is to have Roach completely. He wants Roach to be dependent on him. He wants Roach to love him. He's smart. He knows that if he does something like that, its going to make turning Roach to his side much harder. Its why he doesn't even kiss Roach until he essentially gets permission at the end.
He is really evil. He is really horny for Roach. But he also is very smart and knows people. He isn't going to push things too for too quickly. The only time he even gets close to that is during his last chapter, when he gets so angry/possessive/stressed that he allows himself to break Roach down physically. (However, again you may notice that even in that scene he doesn't start attacking until Roach does. Most of the time he wants Roach to make the first move so that he's somewhat justified in hurting him.)
This was kinda a long winded response lol, but I did want to talk about it and I do think it gives a mit more insight into my thought process/Makarov's character.
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Fledgling Beginnings
Summary: Callie meets someone new
Word count: 1460
Characters: Callie, Stygia ( @whispertrolls ), mentions of Poppie (whisper)
The attack went terribly.
They were expecting her. Had someone tipped them off, or had this been a set up from the start she had to wonder, as she limped through the woods, drops of lime feeling almost neon in the moonlight. Why, why, why! Why hadn’t she listened and brought one of the others? She could hear the sound of a drone getting ever closer. Only the one, but it had been unexpectedly strong, enough to throw her off balance, and a single glancing blow had left her leg badly injured. She had to keep moving keep pushing forward, there was a stream somewhat up ahead, that would hopefully provide enough time for her to at least get an sos out.
But it wasn’t to be, the sounds got louder, and she only just was able to throw herself to the ground in a roll and avoid the snapping shut of jaws that would have severely injured her, if not outright killed. As she came out of the roll she drew back, taking aim directly at the creature. She couldn’t risk not landing this shot or she would be dead, so her grip tightened slight, white wood painted green. She had to just beg and pray that someone would answer, though her hopes were not high after the heated argument she had the last time an ancestor was summoned.
Vision already getting fuzzy black from blood loss, this wasn’t good. One shot, she had just one shot. She took a breath, adrenaline making everything slow around her. Stars above let someone answer her.
Anyone.
She felt a hand resting on hers lightly, guiding her shot. She trusted it, did she have a choice, her arrow gleaming dangerously before shooting forward, perfectly striking its target. The noise from the drone let her know it was, for the moment, disabled. Her chest heaved, no time no time just get up and go. She could barely move, but getting away from here was the most important task. “Please, thank you, I’m sorry, I don’t know” she said softly, not yet looking towards whoever was summoned, just limping away towards the stream. If she could get there, she could get to her hiding spot until Soul returned with someone.
Turns out swimming and holding your breath is hard when bleeding heavily, but at least the shock of the cold jolted her more awake, and once she was able to slump down the wall to the ground did she look around, hoping whoever had answered her summons had followed.
And they had.
She paused, surprised. Not ever met this one before… “…You’re new”
“So are you, but worry about the introductions when you aren’t bleeding out.”
Fair enough, honestly. It didn’t take too much urging for Callie to actually show the injury on her leg. It likely wouldn’t kill her, unless left entirely untreated, but she needed to stop the bleeding in any way she could for now. Her hands were shaking as she tried, making what should be a simple task so much harder. Luckily, one major advantage to being her is it was relatively easy to let ghosts, or at least her relatives, touch her, so the current visitor was able to guide and even somewhat steady her hands once again. Only once both were sure the bleeding was stopped did the talking start again, likely to keep herself awake, she mused internally.
“Alright, I’m not bleeding out anymore, so who are you and why haven’t I seen you before? Normally the new ones are so much harder to pull here but you took… nothing. At least, nothing noticeable.”
“Well, I suppose it isn’t surprising that I was easy to call,” the ghost nodded towards the bow that Callie carried. “You’re using my bow… well… essentially. I wasn’t the first to use it.” Pointedly, they avoided the question of their name. “I’ve been elsewhere for a while, and I wasn’t listening for its echo… but regardless, where did you find it?”
“You didn’t actually answer the question of WHO you are.”
They paused for a moment, then softly sighed as their fingers began to play with their olive shawl. “…Stygia, or ‘The Catalyst’, but that title only means something to me when it’s used to spit in the face of the empire.”
Ah. Understanding clicks in Callie’s eyes “you’re my ancestor. Like… my direct ancestor.”
“Apparently so.” They glanced around, wary of any threats that may have fallen, not upon them, but upon their newfound descendant. “The fact that you know of me of me is likely a mess all on its own— One I would prefer to sort out once you’ve reached safety.”
“Well,” Callie said with a small sigh “I’m stuck here til… probably Poppie shows up. I hope it’s NOT Poppie but it will probably be Poppie and then BOY OH BOY!” Fake chipperness dripped from her tone “I sure will be getting an earful.”
“Poppie.” Stygia twitched an ear as they processed the name. They listened in silence for another moment, then nodded to the bow at Callie’s side. “Keep our bow ready by your hand, and I’ll guide your arrows. You need to stay alert for just a while longer.”
“I swear I don’t usually get this badly hurt on missions,” Callie was fully aware this was a horrible first impression to make, and gritted her teeth. “They were expecting me this time. That never happens, and frankly I’m curious about how it did.” Her grip on the bow tightened slightly, not quite enough to turn her knuckles white.
“Your usual isn’t relevant here.” Another ear twitch, this time with the energy of subtle annoyance. “Focus on right now, and holding your own until your companion arrives.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation because it’s frankly either that, pass out, or start swearing so loud I WILL attract attention” comes the snippy, annoyed reply.
“…Hm.” They emit a soft sound from the back of their throat, one that seemed almost akin to amusement. “You might feel at least marginally better talking about yourself, rather than dwelling on what went wrong.”
The living Astera let out a groan, leaning her head back against the rock behind her, eyes closed. “Aw man, that’s like, me least favorite topic to talk about. You sure you don’t want to hear about the history of reoccurring motifs in tea cup designs?” There’s a note of hopefulness in her tone, but she does not even wait for an answer before sighing. “There’s not really anything I can say you don’t already know. Being a lime fucking sucks, being an Astera doubly sucks, this whole planet is like- ass incarnate.” She pulls her hood leg up so she can hold it, pointedly avoiding looking at the ghost.
“Something we can agree on, I’ll admit.” They shifted in place, then pointed at the sky, where a winged shape could be seen against the night sky. Its wings beat in a steady, but haunting, rhythm of the night. “But, least favorite topic or not, you demanded my name without providing your own. It’s only courteous to reciprocate you know.”
“…Callie. I’m… Callie.” She looked up again, then, following the pointing. Her shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar outline of Soul. That meant someone was close behind, help would be here soon. “Guess you won’t need to keep me awake much longer” she joked, still not making eye contact.
“I still wouldn’t recommend letting go until your condition is stable.” Stygia watched the owl fly, then glanced back at their descendant out of the corner of their eye. “Callie… hm.” They focused their gaze straight ahead once more. “I would say that it is nice to meet you, but the circumstances are less than desirable— not that it matters much. Regardless of tonight’s outcome, we’ll have time to speak.” They took a step back and slowly kneeled to grasp the bow alongside Callie’s hand. The bow began to glow softly, which enveloped Stygia’s form. Their eyes became more vibrant— more than they had been in sweeps. “And by our hands, we’re intertwined. You have me here, now, at your beck and call.”
Callie was stunned to silence, tears starting to fill her eyes. Before she could find the words to reply, the noise of someone approaching could be heard, and soon Poppie was visible. The bow had stopped glowing by then, and Callie could only stare silently at her companion, then glance at her ancestor as those words sank in. Help was here, the moment needed her, but her feeling head made that difficult.
“Get help, heal, I’ll be here when you’re ready,” the last words she heard before everything crashed in, and the world went black.
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PART ONE: Eating two slices of ice cream cake with James Murphy
(04/11/2022) (Solar Institute Bulletin No. 19) (From New York)
If elegance is arriving somewhere without a commute story, then in the newslettersphere, elegance is starting your letter with anything BUT an apology for its lateness. I’ve owed you a letter for ages now, and one hasn’t come. For that, I’m sorry!!! Since the summer I’ve felt the weeks spinning through my fingers like fine thread. Airports, shows, cars, bursts of loneliness and melancholy, moments of sun. They might as well pay me in jet fuel, I’ve been on so many fucking planes this year (if you’re looking for a saviour, ETC); haven’t been in one place for more than two weeks since… July, I guess, not that that’s any sort of excuse, but things just kept happening and the list of things to tell you about kept getting longer until it was overwhelming, and so it goes. As Rachel Cusk says, one has to serve out one’s changes moderately, like strong wine. By that logic, I’ve been drunk for months, and with that state comes ups and downs — intense jonesing for home and family, a struggle at times to resource myself, feelings of inadequacy, of longing and loss. A couple times I’ve been backstage doing vocal warmups before a show thinking, What the fuck can I offer these people right now, when I myself feel as loose and spare as a tooth or a tyre?
So finally today, sitting in a basement with bleach disciplining my scalp, I thought — today’s the day I’m gonna write to you. And for your troubles — TWO PARTS TO THIS BAD BOY. For all things tour — recent pics, updates on upcoming shows, et al, see part two.
Between drinks, it has been an intense period of what I’d call research — not writing songs as such, but reading, conceptualising, writing a ton of stuff down, laying the foundation of… something. I’m feeling excited and challenged. A little nervous. Teeth in my shoulder.
Warmup
Milan sneak peek (more dispatched via the Institute)
Best thing seen this year - bioluminescence activated by the movement of the waves. does anyone know what kind of seaweed this is? Where my biologist SCsWWTS at?)
Bathroom floor after Primavera, Los Angeles
Have felt your love in general, these past couple months. All year, of course, but special moments keep coming sweet and bright — touching a tattoo in the rain, or my mum sending a photo of a freshie in the supermarket. Running into people who were at Radio City, hearing about everyone’s different nights — my waiter being accidentally on mushrooms there, a sweet boy in the grocery store who went by himself. And then, holy shit, the intense, overwhelming outpouring of love that was Mexico. I’m still riding high on what a warm welcome we got, how sweet and dedicated you all are, what finally being able to hug you and not let go for ten seconds felt like. I did get a terrible cold, but it was worth it.
STARVING YOU OF LAUREN’S GORGEOUS SHOW PICS + GENERAL TOUR CONTENT BECAUSE OF PART TWO random iphone pics only!!
Have written the story of my 72 hours in Milano and where I went after as an Institute dispatch, FYI.
What’s been going on with me? This podcast episode. Remember this from last year? Going to see said painting at MoMa, having mind blown.
Finally going to Tiny Doll House (AS A NEW YORK ACTIVITY I REALLY. CAN’T. RECOMMEND THIS ENOUGH).
Seeing Dev play in the round. Thinking about work that feels open enough to contain different stories and meanings. Sitting in the sunshine talking about hearing One Dance for the first time.
Watermelon 5 gum (A DERANGED AIRPORT PURCHASE THAT I’M LOVING… XYLITOL CAN YOU BELIEVE SHE’S BEEN OUT OF NZ TOO LONG!!).
Finally read Essential Labor By Angela Garbes and it blew my damn brains out. Loving Cusk, halfway through Second Place. Natasha Brown’s Assembly and David Milch’s Life’s Work waiting in the wings. Read Natalia Ginzburg’s Voices in the Evening on a beach in Greece. Always so fascinating to me as I get older and realise that the books I’m gravitating towards are a little bit like my browser search history, getting at the questions I’m asking. Domesticity, family, parenting… paging Dr. Freudette!
This conversation between Hilton Als and Terrence Hayes in the Paris Review is one of the most gagging interviews I’ve ever read.
The podcast POOG, which I’m late to discovering but completely obsessed with. Like the rest of New York, Kate has me in a chokehold. “As she banters about skin care, you get the sense that her refusal to play herself onstage is part of a larger personal preoccupation with the ways that the coherent “self” is always a doomed project.” (Shades of Cusk???)
Gonna buy these Kari Māori cards for Christmas presents this year. This newsletter took so damn long I missed Mahuru Māori, but I consumed a ton of really thoughtful work by a variety of creators during that month, a highlight being this podcast episode reflecting on the 50 year anniversary of the Maori language petition being delivered to Parliament, and the future of reo in our country.
Haven’t seen Tár yet but it’s on my list. LOVED Corsage. Wanted to like Triangle of Sadness more than I did, although it was fun in the room.
Watching the movement in Iran with my heart in my mouth. I cannot believe the bravery of these women.
FUCK YOU BOLSONARO AND GOOD RIDDANCE.
Leaving you with two quotes, that could be applied to making stuff, or just to living your life. “First you hate something, then you investigate why you hate something. That is exciting — and for creative people, to be excited is the only way.” From Mrs. Prada. And this, such a classic, from Kris Kristofferson upon hearing Blue for the first time: “‘Jesus, Joni,’ he said. ‘Save something for yourself.’” No. Shan’t.
Throbbing with love for you. PART TWO INCOMING!
E
(source: received this email)
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so apparently vehemently believing that people can and will read your mind is a delusion !
interesting
#fuuuuuck what do i tag this as#unreality mention#delusions cw#cw delusions#unreality#maybe. i do not want to get this concept in anyone else's head rn lmao#ive been looking into this more (including that post from yesterday)#and. yeah#i am not going to do anything with this. it is an exception to a rule and i do not get other delusions#(afaik???)#but this is interesting. i am going to study it like a bug#in the times im not. you know. vehemently believing it#it's a couple times a month and its weirdly specific lmao#its essentially ''if you let anyone touch you at any moment they will be able to see your deepest darkest thoughts and they will hate you''#:')
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About the Kokushibou x Muzan little sister ask can I get prompt 8 please 😅 sorry for the inconvenience.
.｡.:*✧Prompt 8: "It feels right, promise I don't mind."
.｡.:*✧Warnings: Slight sexual tension
╰╴⇢｡.:*✧A/N: If an appearance/personality is made evident, then it is because you are related to Muzan.
`` [Y/N], my beloved sister, have you considered ever finding a suitable partner such as I did? ``
Your elder brother, Lord Kibutsuji Muzan, spoke as you both were seated in one of the many rooms of the Infinity Castle that was well away from everyone else since your discussion held private matters.
`` Brother, you made your past wives go insane, and the one you have now is a fake. So therefore, it does not count. ``
Muzan let out a huff of annoyance at the same time you did, the habit being something you both inherited unfortunately which led to the Upper Moon Two to tease you about, which led to him becoming disciplined right after.
`` That is not the point. [Y/N], I do not want you to be alone- ``
`` But I'm not alone, I have you and the other Upper Moons..- ``
`` Ah yes, the Upper Moons you say? ``
There was a glint of mischievousness in Muzan's eyes that you became all too accustomed with, knowing he was coming up with a great plan that you know utterly nothing about. Truth be told, finding a partner would not seem like the worst thing, but your stubbornness has stopped you from giving into your older brother's wishes.
`` Since you brought up the Upper Moons, I'll start from there. ``
You quirked a brow up in response to his choice of words, crossing your arms habitually and holding the same accursed scowl Muzan would also make during his meetings.
`` Why don't you get to know them, `` he started, referring to the higher ranks. `` The Upper Three ranks would make suitable partners and would have no trouble protecting you when I am absent. ``
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose trying to see a somewhat decent future with any of them. Sure, the idea had its pros, but far too many cons, especially with Douma. He was tall and handsome, sure, but had little to no emotions whatsoever and was too much of a masochist for you to handle.
Then there is Akaza. He was respectful to women and you actually found that trait attractive, but he was too focused on becoming strong and probably would not even give you the attention you would need.
Lastly, Kokushibou. An even taller demon who was quiet, well reserved, and surprisingly good looking despite having three sets of eyes. For once, you did not know the male's motives due to his nature, which allured you to him further. You have tried to strike up a conversation but he was quick to end it and would disappear somewhere else in the Castle.
`` Muzan, I would never consider Douma suitable, Akaza is a 50/50 chance, but Kokushibou- well..- ``
`` Well? ``
You wanted to voice out your opinion of the Upper Moon One to your brother, but knowing him, he would rat you out instantly just so that your relationship with him would get a move on so he can be satisfied.
`` Actually, nevermind, I'll take some time to think about it brother. ``
You got up from your chair and exited from the large room, jumping from the balcony and onto another platform. You repeated this process until you were well away from Muzan's quarters.
You were not even set on a destination, you just wanted to clear your head of his desire to find you a future husband. The idea was not a bad one, in fact it was a smart move in the first place, but it felt forced and not genuine to have to pick based off your brother telling you to.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you did not notice the large figure just in front of you, and before you knew it, you bumped right into the figure's back, causing it to fall over with you on top.
`` Who- ``
`` I apologize! `` You blurted out before the voice could finish. `` I was not looking where I was going and ended up tumbling onto you so I'm sorry. ``
You quickly got off of the large figure who also stood up and adjusted his hakama accordingly that got slightly messed up in the fall. Once the figure is turned around, you are met with 3 pairs of eyes glaring down at your shorter form. It was none other than Kokushibou, or better known as the Upper Rank One based on the kanji in his eyes. You look stunned as you take in his appearance. You expected a much more piercing gaze due to him usually having one, but instead of that, his face was more relaxed and dare I say neutral.
`` There is no need princess, `` the male said as he bowed in respect, not daring to leave unless you order for him to do so. The demons that lurked around the Castle were ordered by your high and mighty older brother to refer to you as "Princess" since he deems himself as the king. You objected of course, but in this moment you had no ounce of rejection to give. Usually you would dismiss the demons that call you such a thing, but it felt different with Kokushibou.
`` Still I bumped into yo- nevermind. Kokushibou I can trust you right? ``
Your question came out of the blue for the demon. Why were you suddenly asking if you can trust a man like him? Of course he did devote his life to both you and Muzan but his inner feelings and self doubt block himself from doing so fully. You always made things difficult for him.
`` Yes, you can entrust me with your life. ``
`` Are you only saying that because my brother told you to, or are you genuine? ``
The demon was rather taken aback by your bold choice of words, his eyes slightly enlarging before going back to a neutral expression. He tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, confusion taking over his features.
`` Why would I not want to protect someone dear to me? ``
You took a singular step back, desperately fighting the heat rushing to your cheeks and so to not embarrass yourself in front of him you covered the bottom half of your face and feigning a look of pondering.
`` If you are genuine as you claim to be, then I shall tell you. Muzan wants me to find a suitable partner. ``
You were blunt yet again, believing that sugarcoating information only draws away time that could be spent doing something much more worthwhile. You removed your hand from your face, now holding a stern look with the much taller Upper Moon whose expression has shifted. A visible vein was pulsing on his neck that you learned was due to annoyance.
`` Have you found anyone? `` Kokushibou said with no clear indication of aggravation, but you knew of the male's habits from the years that you have you have to learn of the Upper ranks and their habits. You stepped closer towards him until your chest dangerously brushed against his, your hand reaching up to his hand and grabbing it gently. Kokushibou tensed up at the feeling of your soft hand being interlocked with his, so much so that he could not take his eyes off of your enticing ones.
`` Yes. You. ``
You stood on your tippy toes just to move closer to his face. His height may have been an obstacle but you succeeded, leaving the demon to be well enough flustered for it to be noticeable. Your little manipulative tactics resembled those of Muzan's, you are siblings after all. You tugged your hand away from his, sliding it up his forearm ever so slowly and to his chest, resting there and not daring to break the eye contact you have built.
`` Even though I am directly blood related to Muzan, would you be willing to be my partner and love me for who I am instead of who I am related to? ``
Kokushibou was well aware of what you meant with those words, after all he himself is very intelligent and could see through your advances. But even so, he found himself falling for them time and time again. You could simply be doing your hair and his mind would wander to how your raven locks would feel in between his fingers. With you being his Lord's younger sister, he thought it would be practically sinning to think of you in such ways, but now that the opportunity presented itself, he would not let it slip from his grasp.
`` It feels right, promise I don't mind. ``
`` That's all I needed to hear from you Kokushibou. ``
It took one small lean forward for your lips to land on his. Kokushibou instinctively returned the kiss as if he was programed to do so, except it was his full will driving him forward to finally have you as his own. To be able to have you by his side was almost a dream come true for him without even realizing it. Demons are essentially deprived of any real feeling so to have you return his feelings of infatuation fed into his desire all the same.
Although before the kiss could turn into a much more scandalous one, you retracted, but cupped his face in your hands.
`` Would He approve of this? `` Kokushibou asked whilst peering into your enchanting eyes again. His hands had moved to your waist but were quickly removed after the kiss, his own fears blocking him from allowing himself to submit to your enticing touch.
`` I don't need his approval, I am my own person who can make her own decisions. But, it was his idea so there is no need to worry. ``
`` That is all I needed to hear. ``
Kokushibou was the one who leaned forward this time, but before your lips could connect, he went to your neck and bit on your skin harshly which was bound to leave a mark. You gripped at his hair and tugged him away from your neck after you let out a small whine since your greed was increasing.
`` I am simply marking what is mine now, isn't that right, Princess? ``
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#kokushibou#kny kokushibou#kokushibo x reader#kny x reader#kny imagines#demon slayer kokushibou#kny headcanons#kokushibou headcanons#kny muzan#☆Myrulia Lyric Prompts
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Kinktober Day 22: Zombie (Voracious)
Day 22: Zombie
Title: Voracious
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: Noncon, necrophilia (cause zombie), predator/prey, biting, marking, blood play, yandere
Note: Thank you so much to @thewheezingwyvern who is always down to help me without batting an eye when I go “so, zombie plague...what are some good symptoms? And yes, the zombie is going to fuck you.” Also, for the love of everything that is unholy, please mind the warnings. Do not read the fic and come to me to tell me how disgusting it was. Trust me, I know. :)
Kinktober Masterlist
The country of Japan is dead. Or at least close enough that the distinction doesn’t matter.
Several months ago, an aggressive virus leaked from a quirk research facility and spread through the population like wildfire. Nobody was informed about what was going on, and nobody was warned when the virus first began to hit the cities. Officials kept it as quiet as possible, hoping to contain the spread before it got out of control. And before anyone knew how big of a mistake they had made.
But it was far too late for any sort of containment. The virus already spread fast in a lab environment, and it was even faster as it tore through an unprepared population.
The first sign of contracting the virus is tiredness and body aches. The infected simply thought they caught a minor illness, and they continued their business as usual, expecting it to go away on its own. But as the virus continues to spread through their body, the tissues start to die and they develop intense fevers and headaches. By the time the infection makes its way to the brain, confusion and outright delirium has begun to occur.
The infected are wild by this point, feral to the point of attacking, biting, and eating the uninfected. The ones who were bitten and survived had the site of their wound swell and turn agonizing to the touch, and they would suffer the same progression as the other infected.
The final stage is always the same though. Once the black rot of plague starts appearing on your skin and spreading like the branches of a tree, it’s too late.
The worst part is that the infected still have use of their quirks, and the devastation has been immense. Super powered heroes and villains with their minds rotting and decaying from infection, losing the ability to distinguish friend from foe. In some areas, the casualties were even worse from fighting than they were from the virus itself.
Somehow, you have managed to keep yourself alive and stay away from the worst in-fighting and the areas with the highest concentration of infected. Still though, it is a surprise to you. You’re simply a quirkless nobody with no way to defend yourself.
You have seen so many better, stronger people die right in front of you, leaving you forced to continue on alone.
You sigh as you scavenge through an old building that was once a store, looking for more supplies. Yours are dangerously low, and your dry mouth and grumbling stomach tells you that you need to find something quickly, before you become too weak to continue on.
You practically jump out of your skin when you hear the banging of items hitting the ground from deeper within the store. It might be survivors, or it might be the infected. The thought briefly occurs to you that you need to check to make sure, but you quickly shake it away.
Survivors or not, you didn’t come this far by being careless. But as you inch quietly towards the exit, you see a flash of red eyes from within the darkness as something emerges.
No, not something. Someone.
One of the infected.
It’s clear that he’s in the late stages of infection, the black rot spreading out through his body, but most notably his left leg which he drags limply. He’s wearing what are essentially black rags that flow out from behind him, leaving his chest bare so that you can see more of the black spiderwebs of rot twining outwards.
His eyes zoom in on you, narrowing slightly as you stand there frozen in fear. Neither of you moves for what feels like hours, but is really mere seconds. You break out of your trance first, turning on your heel and running for the door. The infected pursues you instantly, jumping over a table rather than running around it to save time. The move is a sign of intelligence that instantly fills you with dread. By this stage, the infected are usually too confused and delirious to remember such things.
You make it to the door with him hot on your heels. You’ve always considered yourself a fast runner, especially lately, but this is an entirely different story. He’s fast, too fast. The infected are not supposed to be like this, especially not with a bad leg. But yet he is quickly catching up to you as you dart through streets you know so well.
You realize that your only chance is to lose him somehow, as you’re never going to be able to outrun him. Your breath is coming in harsh pants already, a stitch burning in your side as you make a sharp, desperate right turn into an alleyway.
An alleyway with a dead end.
This area was clear just a week ago, but now it looks like an infected hero or villain used their quirk to collapse both buildings in the area, causing massive chunks of cement and debris to block the road out. There is no way to climb over the rubble and no handholds or stairs to use to climb up the buildings. You’re completely trapped.
You whirl around quickly, hoping to get out before the infected catches up with you. But you’re too late. He’s already standing at the entrance of the alley, staring you down with heated red eyes. A sharp burst of awareness fills you as you realize exactly who this is. The leader of the League of Villains, Shigaraki Tomura, whose whereabouts have been speculated on for weeks along with the rest of his villain group.
No wonder he’s so fast and so dangerous. The infected retain some level of awareness and ability from the time before, and Shigaraki was one of the most deadly villains in the country.
And if the way he’s acting towards you is any indication, he still is.
You take a step back. He takes a step forward. Another step back. Another step forward. You scan through your chances of getting out of this alive and uninfected, but your mind comes up with nothing.
Your back hits a wall abruptly, and in your split second distraction, the infected is on you. You’re pulled roughly to the ground, hands barely breaking your fall as you land on your front. This is it, you think to yourself, I’m about to be eaten. All this time of running away, of watching people you care about die, all for nothing.
You can’t stop yourself from trembling as you try to brace for the pain of being devoured. But instead, he leans down and buries his face into your neck, sniffing the skin deeply as he pushes your body further onto the ground. His hips are bucking against the curve of your ass, and with dawning horror, you realize exactly what the hard bulge in his pants is.
He grabs your pants and you watch as decay overtakes them and dissolves them into ash. He decays your shirt and bra next, leaving you bare from the waist up and shivering from the cold of his body pressed against you. You’re too scared to move, too scared to do anything.
But when he reaches for your panties, that’s when your paralysis finally breaks and fear takes over. You try to lift yourself up from the ground to run, only to hear a snarl as teeth sink into the flesh of your neck.
You go limp with a choked sob, losing any and all desire to try and get away. It’s all over now. That one single moment has doomed you to infection and madness. The pain of the bite is nothing compared to the despair you feel.
He lets out a pleased hum at your sudden obedience, pulling your panties aside as you feel something cold and hard prodding at your entrance. You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening before your pussy is filled with one sharp thrust of the creature’s hips. The infected aren’t supposed to do this, aren’t supposed to have these urges, you think wildly to yourself. This can’t be happening, it’s not possible.. But it is happening. You’re being taken by this creature like a wild animal in a back alley.
And then he is moving, hips slapping against your ass as his throbbing length pounds into you. There is no gentleness, no precision, just deep, feral thrusts that have you unwillingly clenching. He’s thicker than you’re used to, and the pain of your muscles stretching around him causes you to whine from the back of your throat.
This shouldn’t feel good. You should be horrified, disgusted. You should be fighting tooth and nail to get away, even though it’s hopeless since you’re already infected. But the cold of his cock pressing against your warm walls has your head spinning from the contrast.
He hits a soft, spongy spot inside of you, and you let out a squeal as your stomach tightens. The teeth are removed from your neck, only to bite down in another spot on the other side. He ruthlessly breaks skin, causing blood to run down your front and drip onto the pavement below.
Your body feels like it’s on fire, everything so overly sensitive as his cock forces your walls to stretch open even further as he gets rougher. The hands gripping your hips feel warmer than they were before, fingers digging hard enough into your skin to create bruises. The grunts and groans leaving his throat are positively lewd, and he takes his mouth away only to bite down in between your shoulder blades.
Your scream echoes through the alley as the teeth penetrate flesh, his tongue lapping at the bite and taking deep swallows of your blood. You try to imagine yourself somewhere else, anywhere else so that you don’t think of the pressure building up inside of you and the pain from the throbbing bites now decorating you.
Your nails dig hard into the cement below you as you try to ground yourself and ignore what’s happening, but Shigaraki doesn’t seem to appreciate that at all. He smacks his hand hard against your ass, keeping his pinky raised delicately off your skin in a way that has you worried about his level of awareness.
Now that your attention is firmly back on him, he bites the back of your neck, and you can’t stop the howl that leaves your throat when you feel your skin break, or the orgasm that wracks your body as you feel blood trail down the column of your neck and down in between your breasts.
Tears run down your face as humiliation burns through you, the shame of cumming around this infected villain’s cock almost too much to bear. Almost worse than the fact that you’ll soon be just like him.
“M-m-m - “
Your eyes widen as you glance behind you, seeing the infected concentrating hard as he tries to get words out. He’s stopped thrusting, as if he’s trying to focus entirely on whatever he wants to say. As he opens his mouth, you see his teeth stained with your blood and the sight shoots straight to your core.
“M-m-mine,” he finally manages to stutter out, “mine.” He forces your head down onto the pavement as he begins to ruthlessly pound into you. The infected don’t speak, they’re not supposed to speak -
“Mine,” he snarls, almost as if he heard your thoughts and is trying to prove you wrong.
You’re oversensitive and wet from your previous orgasm, allowing him to fuck you deeply, hitting your cervix with every thrust. You can feel your pussy dripping your juices all over his cock, and the wet squelching noises that fill the alleyway has you shaking with embarrassment.
“Mine, mine mine,” he chants as he bites again and again, each time pausing long enough to take gulps of your blood. Your head is spinning, lightheadedness from blood loss overtaking you. The ground below you has puddles of your own blood where it drips down, and you briefly think that maybe you really will be eaten right here and now instead of being infected and left to wander.
His hand comes in between your bodies to stroke tight circles against your swollen clit as he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Mine,” he whispers darkly. “Why else would I stumble across the cure for the plague if you weren’t meant to be mine?”
Cure for the plague? That’s not possible, there’s no cure for the plague, and you’re completely quirkless -
He bites down one last time, sinking his teeth into the back of your neck and holding you there like a dog refusing to let go of a bone. You realize why immediately when he groans into your heated skin, warmth spreading through your core as he shoots hot ropes of cum directly against your cervix. The pain of his teeth buried into your flesh has you thrown over the edge as well, legs trembling and eyes rolling into the back of your head.
He removes his teeth from your neck once he’s emptied himself inside of you, letting you go as you collapse onto the ground. You roll over enough to meet his eyes, seeing sharp intelligence and contemplation. The black rot is quickly disappearing, color returning to his skin. Within no time at all, you can no longer tell he was ever infected.
“How - I don’t - I’m quirkless - “
“No, you’re not.” He states it matter of factly, as if it was already known. “You have a quirk, it just didn’t have a purpose until the plague. Your blood carries the cure.”
You consider everything that happened, realizing that the more blood he drank, the more human he seemed. The faster the infection was being cured.
He snorts at the look of disbelief and then understanding on your face. “With you on my side, I can remake society exactly the way that I want.”
“I am not on your fucking side! You’re a villain who just - “ You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, but Shigaraki has no issues doing it for you.
“A villain who just fucked you and got you off? Such a dirty girl, getting off around infected cock.”
Your face heats up and you instantly glance away, drawing another chuckle from his throat. “I won’t help you,” you say stubbornly, ignoring his previous words.
“Who said I was giving you a choice?” His fingers dig into your arm as he pulls you off the ground. “You belong to me now, and I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you. Just think about the power I have now. I control who stays infected and who gets cured. No more hero society.” His voice has taken on an excited, almost manic tone as he considers the possibilities.
“Are you - are you going to let them do what you just did?” You whisper quietly, a single tear running down your face at being used the same way by other people.
He instantly scowls at you. “Of course not.”
You perk up just a bit, until you hear his next words.
“I’ll let you be a blood bag, but for everything else - you’re mine. And I don’t like to share.” He begins to drag you back the way that you came, walking with purpose.
“Now come along. We have so much work to do.”
✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧
Kinktober: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main
#kinktober 2020#shigaraki x reader#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki smut#shigaraki#mha x reader#mha smut#yandere mha#bnha x reader#bnha smut#yandere bnha#bnha kinktober#mha kinktober#tw: noncon#tw: necro#tw: blood play
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Dabi’s Missing Heart
So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.
Take #1:
Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed!
Take #2:
Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character!
Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive):
I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.
Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both.
Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison.
So, who is Dabi?
Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder.
Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for.
If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.
You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything.
We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions.
Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care.
So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this.
It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is.
Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).
Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with.
The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions).
Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter?
It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another.
See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:
But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this:
Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi.
You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain.
So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life:
Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology. Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain.
Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him):
Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.
Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals.
For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him.
In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals).
That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids.
Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama.
Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result.
So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.
In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)
Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)
Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That.
Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi.
Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties.
Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.)
So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed).
It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner.
Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now.
(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)
But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power.
Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).
I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it.
#bnha 292#bnha meta#mha 292#mha meta#dabi#todoroki shouto#todoroki touya#todoroki enji#hado nejire#toga himiko#shigaraki tomura#shimura tenko#best jeanist#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha theory#mha theory#league of villains#spinner
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just some hawks headcanons
he loves doing your eyeliner and loves when you point out how good he is at it
he’ll do cool designs too not just normal eyeliner and if you ever wanna do his eyeliner he’s so down (but if you’re not super good at it he will playfully make fun of you, while giving you little tips here and there it’s cute)
he’s such a morning person it’s annoying at times, but it’s generally because he’s been working nonstop for years on a schedule that had him up early
but on the bright side, if he has time before he has to go to work, he’ll make you breakfast and you’ll get wholesome morning cuddles before he goes
or if it’s a day off you’ll wake up to him pressing soft kisses all over your cheeks and nose and jawline and a few stray ones on your lips while he whispers ‘come on baby, time to wake up’ all pouty like
he likes to sleep on top of your chest, mainly because it’s easier for him to sleep on his stomach cause of his wings, but he’ll wrap his arms around your waist tightly and bury his face in your chest or neck
he also nuzzles into you a lot, both asleep and awake, he thinks its comforting
he wants to stay up late with you so badly because he’ll take essentially any time he can get with you, but no matter what he wakes up early so he knows he needs to sleep early too, would probably knock out at midnight at the latest anyways
he whistles all the time, he hums a lot too, he’s got a pretty decent voice
his hair, while it looks good, is probably pretty tangled and messy all the time since he’s always flying around, so he’d love it if you helped him brush his hair gently
also he loves when you help him take care of his wings, he’s kinda hesitant to let other people touch them because they’re so sensitive but if you’re gentle then he’s ecstatic
when you kiss he lets out little hums from the back of his throat
whenever he gets hurt doing hero work he tries to stay away from you until his injuries dont look bad/he can function fairly normally, one reason for this is that he doesn’t like being seen as weak and vulnerable, he likes people thinking he’s indestructible almost, especially you, and the second reason is that he hates worrying you. he’s so thankful for you and just wants you to be happy so he hates worrying you in any way
but you will catch on eventually, and he begins to grow out of this when you start taking care of his injuries and coddling him a bit
at the beginning of the relationship it was kinda rocky in an emotional sense, he was physically there and from an outside perspective everything seemed great considering how busy he is and all that, but you knew there were some barriers there that took a while for you two to communicate about
thing is you’re likely keigo’s first relationship, he’s never had the time or care to even think about one but you came along and he just couldn’t resist, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do outside of things he’s heard and he still isnt sure how much trust he should give you
and he knows there’s something up, but he’s still careful about bringing it up, sometimes he thinks that maybe it’d be better for the both of you if you broke up but he knows he’d miss you and doesn’t want to
so eventually you’d have to bring it up, just ask him if things are okay and help him to understand that you’re there for him and that even if it takes time you want to learn about him - even while dating it could take a bit to fully earn his trust, but through various vulnerable moments he’d begin to open up more
he’s insanely protective of you, he tries not to let the media know too much about you if you’re not a hero, and even if you are he tries to make sure your relationship isn’t made into this huge publicity thing - and if anyone ever bothers you he isn’t shy to stand up for you and hurt somebody, he cares more about you than his reputation and he’ll deal with the consequences later
he’s jealous in a possessive you’re mine kind of way, but he does like to show you off, it’s just he has kind of a look but don’t interact policy, as soon as someone tries getting too friendly he’s backing them off, but he loves people knowing that youre with him
if you’re a hero he’ll definitely try to work with you often if your quirks allow it (mainly meaning if you have a quirk that has you out on the field capable of doing intense fighting rather than a quirk that would keep you in a different field than him)
he can be extremely touchy but he can also have moments of not wanting to be touched at all, sometimes he feels better being in his own space, he doesn’t like feeling crowded even if it’s just you, but during these times he’ll still want to be around you, maybe even having your pinkies laced but that’s it
he ruffles your hair all the time
he probably loves going to the park late at night to play on the playground, he likes a lot of more ‘childish’ seeming things mainly because he didn’t have a normal childhood, but he’d love running around the playground with you
asks you to race to who can swing the highest faster and then uses his wings and cheats (he’s probably caused the swing and him to swing around the actual pole at the top doing that before, his life flashed before his eyes, he never did it again)
he absolutely loves carrying you around while flying, if you’re afraid of heights or just don’t like it he understands but if you’re into it then he’ll do it all the time, he thinks of the sky way above the clouds as a safe space where it’s just him and his thoughts and no problems, and he’s so happy to bring you there - now it’s just you two in the whole world and he wants nothing more
he has dreams of just being able to live freely with you, going around the world just being happy doing whatever you want, maybe eventually settling down, doesn’t matter where - he’s not all too sure if it’ll ever happen since it feels kinda impossible to him to have a life where he isnt stuck doing hero work, but he craves it a lot
if you don’t want to get married or have kids that’s perfectly fine, keigo would be happy either way, but he probably dreams of those things too - he seems like the type of kid who imagined a pretty wedding with the love of his life one day, and he just knows that if it’s going to be anyone it’s going to be you
always flirts with you super confidently, tells you stupid pick up lines as if you weren’t dating, but if you ever turn that back on him he gets super flustered
he’d probably cry if you ever pointed out how beautiful you think he is, like his face and body and everything - it’s not that he’s never been told it before, he’s literally a model, he knows he’s attractive, but he probably thinks people view him more so as an object to look at rather than actually appreciating him, so knowing how much you love him for him means so much
it was a big thing for him even just telling you his name, everyone (at least for a while) only knew him as hawks, so if you start dating before his name was made public, it’d take a lot. he’d probably do it before asking you out, but he was still very nervous about it. he probably only told you his first name at that time, his last name came later, maybe even into you dating
though he instantly fell in love with the way his name sounds coming from your lips
there might be a lot of petty arguments, he can get agitated fairly easily when he’s been working a lot which is most of the time, and at the beginning of the relationship he didn’t know how to talk this through and would get annoyed by little things - he’s gotten better at it over time though and now he calms down quicker and talks to you about it
would think it’s funny if you bought any stupid merch of him - he walks in and you have a blanket covered in his face and you’re wearing shorts with his hands on the ass, he’d think it’s hilarious.
#for anyone that reads tags#i know ive basically died but i wanna come back so i'm gonna try#im probably gonna clean out my inbox too#so sorry if i delete yours it's just a lot of the requests idk how to answer and theyve been there for months now#also - i gotta come clean#shinsous not my fav anymore :( i'm still in love with him but stupid keigo came and demanded my hand in marriage or whatever#but idk how to rebrand my blog so hoe for shinsou stays for now#anyways#hawks#hawks headcanons#hawks x reader#hawks fluff#keigo takami#takami keigo#keigo takami x reader
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Keys of truth - Harry Styles
❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️
Read more about FANFICmas here!
hiya loves! this was a very sudden idea of mine that i really wanted to write so i made it to be the last fic of fanficmas! thank you for reading my works through the month, i hope you all enjoyed all the content and i hope you’ll stay with me in 2021 as well! this is an exlovers to lovers fic, kind of very emotional so... yeah!
word count: 3.4k
masterlist
You stay in your car for so long the heat that warmed you on your way here has completely disappeared, your fingers are like ice as they still grip the steering wheel. The snow blizzard outside is raging, warning you that if you don’t go inside anytime soon you might get stuck here and that’s the last thing you want: trapped with your ex who you still dearly love.
You can barely see out of the windshield, it’s covered in snow, another sign that your time is ticking, you need to get back home before all roads get snowed in.
“You can do it. It’s just Harry,” you tell yourself, but that’s the problem. It’s Harry who is currently inside, kind of waiting for you to arrive, pack the remaining of your stuff from his house so your breakup can be official.
The burning regret has been making your life miserable in the past few weeks, ever since you said the words and instantly wanted to take them back. But upon seeing his reaction, you decided to be stubborn and don’t show your weakness.
“Can’t this conversation just wait a little longer, please?” he sighed, clearly annoyed that you brought up the same thing for the hundredth time in the past two months. But you just couldn’t help it, you were feeling like you were running out of time and Harry didn’t seem to realize it.
“How can you ask me to put it aside when my lease is ending in January? I need to know how to plan. Why is it so hard to decide if you want me here or not?”
The thought of moving together had come up a few times, but it became a burning question when your lease was nearing its end. You wanted to move in with Harry, something you’ve been planning on for a while, and you thought he did the same. But when you first mentioned it to him, he seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want it wholeheartedly and that hurt you like Hell, but thought he might had had just a long day. So you agreed to have the conversation another time, but it seemed like no time was suitable for him. He had been dodging your question instantly, trying to get out of it as fast as possible, giving you the feeling that he doesn’t want you around after all.
But it was now the beginning of December, leaving you very little time to look for a new place if he decided he needed his own place. It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, you understand his need for privacy, but at least have the courage to tell you, right? But he didn’t. He kept brushing it off, building the tension in you until one day… you snapped.
“It’s not that easy, Y/N, alright? I asked you to have this discussion later, why can’t you wait a little more?” he snapped right back, growing frustrated as well, but you didn’t think he had the right.
“Wait for what? To make up your mind if you want a future with me or not? If you are hesitant about it, then I think we have a bigger problem on your hands here, Harry,” you retorted, feeling all the rage you’ve kept bottled up erupt from you.
“What does that supposed to mean?” He looks at you with a hard stare and you stand his piercing eyes, not looking away.
“What it means is that… your behavior is making me think that maybe we aren’t heading in the right direction. I thought it was evident that we would move in, but your hesitation is kind of ruining the picture for me.”
“I’m not hesitating, I just asked for some time to smooth some things out!”
“What things? Do you have someone else living with you and you need to get rid of them before I can move in or what?”
“For fuck’s sake, just give me some damn time, Y/N!”
“Well, I don’t think I have any more time.”
He stared at you in disbelief and the words burned your tongue, but there was no turning back now, it was out there.
“For the moving or for me?” he simply asked, no emotion showing on his face and that hurt you more than you expected. You wanted him to panic, to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but his reaction was so cold and empty, it completely broke your heart.
“I think we both know the answer,” you whispered, feeling the tears building in your eyes already.
You stormed out of his place after a few insults were thrown at each other and now it has been three weeks you officially called it quits. The worst three weeks of your life, if you are being honest. Not one night went by without you crying yourself to sleep, deeply missing Harry. You still love him more than anyone or anything and there were so many times you just wanted to go back to him crawling, but your pride didn’t let you. He seemed just fine to let you go and that was like a stab in your chest, see him so in peace with you walking out. You just couldn’t believe two years went right out the window just like that, after such a ridiculous little thing. You still haven’t been able to figure out why he couldn’t just give you an answer. It would have been painful to hear him tell you he doesn’t want you living with him just yet, but you would have gotten over it eventually. Would have been a lot better ending to the story than this ugly breakup you won’t be able to forget about… ever.
Swinging the door open the cold wind slaps you right across your face, earning some pretty creative curses from you as you lock the car. Snow is everywhere, threateningly falling with no mercy, and you know you need to make it quick.
Marching up to the front door you push the button to the doorbell a little too forcefully, eyes squinting from the blizzard and it feels like your eyelashes are now covered in snow completely.
Then the door opens and there he is, standing tall and just as handsome as always, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a knitted sweater, curls a little messy but in the cutest way possible. He looks so cozy and warm, you just want to wrap yourself into his embrace, but you remind yourself that you no longer have the right to be that close to him.
“Hey, come on in,” he greets you with a small smile, holding the door open as you walk inside and he finally shuts the door, keeping the cold outside.
You haven’t seen him since your fight and now it’s like another slap across your face, seeing him in the flesh, looking… fine. As if nothing has happened while you’ve been a nervous wreck these past weeks and it makes the whole situation even more painful.
“Hi. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you tell him clearing your throat as you get rid of your coat and boots, leaving them by the door so you don’t get any mess on any of his rugs. He nods his head quietly following you further inside the house before taking the lead. You’ve thought about this place as a second home for some time now, but now being here as just some kind of guest is heartbreaking, but you try your best not to think about how painful it really is.
“Most things are in the wardrobe, but I think you have quite some books in the study as well,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat as he walks you into his bedroom he has shared with you oh so many times before.
“Thanks,” you mumble.
“Do you fancy a cup of tea? I can also help you if you want,” he offers, clearly not certain about how he should act now and that makes the two of you, it seems.
“Tea sounds great, but I’ll be fine on my own,” you tell him with a faint smile and he just nods, shuffling out of the room, leaving you alone.
You start going through his spacious wardrobe, collecting all your items you’ve left here through your time with him, and pack them away into the bags you brought with yourself, knowing well you have a lot to take home. You hear Harry starting the kettle outside in the kitchen and you need to take a deep breath so you don’t start crying. You miss him so much. You miss having him around, talking to you, touching you… kissing you. It’s killing you to know that you’ll never have him the way you want and it feels like you can do nothing, but to suffer quietly.
While packing, you find some of the shirts he always gave you when you spent the night, even though you had your own clothes to sleep in. There was just something different to have his shirts on, smell his scent and he also never failed to tell you how much he loves seeing you wear his stuff, so you shamelessly borrowed anything that caught your eyes. For a moment, you debate if he would notice if you took one of his shirts, but then you tell yourself it would be a stupid idea, so you force yourself to leave there everything that’s not essentially yours.
“Here. With a dash of honey, just like how you always drink it,” he smiles at you warmly as he reappears with a steaming mug in his hands.
“Thank you,” you mumble shyly taking the mug from him to have a breather from all the packing.
He stays standing there, just a few feet from you, looking around a little lost, his hands on his hips, as if he is trying to find something to do, but there’s none. It’s the first time you see something in him, something you are not used to, but it’s so masked that you can’t put your finger on it.
“Alright, um… I’ll be in the kitchen if you need any help,” he then says with a tight-lipped smile before walking out and leaving you alone again.
You need a breather once he is gone, you let yourself sit on the edge of his bed, sipping on the tea and you can’t ignore how he used your favorite filter, the one you always made him buy so he had it at his place as well. These thoughtful little things always make your stomach churn, especially now. Because you just can’t put it together with how it all ended. Why would he be this caring and loving man towards you, when he doesn’t want you anymore?
Swallowing down you tears you just sit there until you finish the hot drink and force yourself to stand up and bring the mug out for him. Your feet tap against the hardwood floor quietly and as you are about to turn the corner, you stop hearing his quiet voice coming from the kitchen.
“I can’t, Gems. I can’t fucking do it,” you hear him, his voice muffled and something odd lacing through it. “But it’s so fucking hard!” he snaps after a short silence and you assume his sister told him something through the phone. “I don’t want this…” he breathes out and you realize that he is crying.
He lets out a quiet sob and you dare to step forward and look in his way in the kitchen. He is hunched over with his back facing you, a hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other one his holding his phone to his ear. He looks so broken, like just a ghost of himself, nothing like the unbothered man you saw just a little while ago. Seeing him like this breaks your heart even more and you don’t even know what to do or say, so you just stand there, eavesdropping on his conversation with his sister.
“I don’t know how she would react. You really think it’s a good idea?” he asks, sniffing his nose and his hand flies from the countertop to his face, wiping his cheeks harshly. “I don’t… Fuck, this is so bad, Gems.”
You feel your throat closing up, you are dying to know what Gemma is saying on the other end of the call.
“I know,” he replies to something. “Of course I do. How can I not? This was never supposed to happen.” Another silence. “I fucking know, Gems, but I felt so dumbfounded, I literally couldn’t think straight!”
You suck on your breath, trying your best to put the bits and pieces together. If he is talking about what you think, you are about to break out into sobs any moment.
“Alright,” he sighs, head falling back a little as he is probably blinking away his tears. The urge to just go up behind him and hug his waist, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blades, like you always do whenever he is washing the dishes or making breakfast for the two of you, is getting hard to fight.
He ends the call and before you could even realize, your feet are taking you forward in his direction. Your knee cracks when you take a bigger step and it makes his head snap around. You freeze right where you are, a few feet away from him, holding your empty mug in your hands, staring back at him at a lack of words. Now that he is facing you it’s clear that he was indeed crying, the redness around his eyes and glistening cheeks of his give him away instantly.
“Oh, um, hey. You need help with anything?” he asks, wiping his cheeks again, though there’s no use in trying to hide the signs.
“Harry, what was that about?” you softly ask as he keeps his eyes fixated on the tiled floor in front of him.
“Just… Gemma.”
“What was never supposed to happen?” you ask ignoring how he tried to dodge your question. He draws a shaky breath, looking anywhere but at you and you hate it. You need to see those green eyes on you. So stepping closer you turn his head by his chin so his glassy gaze meets yours.
Harry opens his mouth two times, but closes it until he finally speaks up for the third time.
“There’s something I want to give you,” he tells you, caching you by surprise.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“Just…” he breathes out in defeat. “Let me give it to you, okay? And I’ll answer all your questions after that.”
Silently you nod and watch him shuffle into his bedroom, hearing him open a drawer and then he appears with a tiny box in his hands. It’s deep blue, with a pretty little white bow on top. He gestures for you to sit on the couch with him, so you silently obey and the two of you sit on each sides of his plush couch.
“Here,” he whispers handing you the box. Glancing up at him you try to put the picture together, but you fail to see what this is about so you go ahead and take off the lid.
At first you don’t realize what it is that you are looking at. There is a set of keys on a chain along with a little silver heart, your name engraved into it. A second passes by, then another and you gasp when realization hits you.
“Harry, what is this?” you ask, not really meaning that what’s in the box, because you figured it’s the keys to his place, but you can’t figure out why he just gave this to you.
“I’ve had them made for over two months. Wanted to give them to you on Christmas as a surprise. This was my plan all along and this is why I tried to push the conversation back. There was nothing to talk about, I wanted you here, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you. But then we had that stupid fight and I knew I should have just told you the truth, but I was shocked and couldn’t think properly. I never wanted us to end up like this and when I realized what I did you were already… gone.”
The tears start soaking your cheeks within a moment as you clutch onto the keys for dear life, listening to Harry.
“I was an idiot. I wanted to call you and tell you why I didn’t want to talk about the moving, but then I thought you wouldn’t believe me and say that I was just trying to save what was left of us. Fuck, that was my biggest mistake ever. I haven’t stopped beating myself up about it and I’ve been so miserable without you, Y/N. You can’t even imagine.”
“I think I can,” you choke out with a bitter laugh. “I regretted it the moment I said those words. But I was too proud to admit it and you seemed just fine with it.”
“Oh I was miles away from being fine,” he breathes out, his body falling forward as he leans his elbows onto his thighs. “I didn’t stop crying until like six in the morning, Y/N. After you left, I felt like I had nothing left.”
You sob at his words, putting the keys aside as you crawl into his arms, swinging a leg over him so you can straddle him and sit on his lap. His strong arms curl around your frame instantly, an instinct he has had for a while now and three weeks wasn’t enough to get rid of it, luckily. He pulls you close as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.
“I’m sorry I ever made you think I’m not planning my future with you. You are my future, Y/N. All of it.”
“Stop!” you choke out laughing. “I can’t cry any harder!” you say, making him laugh as well. His hand slides to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair.
“Oh baby, I don’t want you to cry at all,” he chuckles softly, pulling you to his chest once again. “I want you to be happy, preferably with me, but if you tell me to fuck off, I still understand.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” you smack his chest gently. “I love you way too much to ever say that.”
“Fuck, you don’t know how amazing it is to hear that,” he breathes out as his hands move up to cup your face and he finally pulls you into a sweet, i-missed-you-so-fucking-much-don’t-ever-leave-me-again kiss that makes the whole world spin around you. Just like that, the universe falls into perfect balance and all the suffering and pain you had to go through, it vanishes the moment Harry’s lips touch yours again, something you truly thought would never happen again.
“So, have you found a place yet?” he asks, a little out of breath from the kisses you two just shared. Resting his forehead against yours he looks into your eyes with his piercing green ones that you missed so dearly.
“I was supposed to move to my sister’s temporarily, but I guess I can give her a call that she won’t have to put up with me after all,” you chuckle making Harry laugh as well. “When do you want me to move?”
“Like right now,” he replies instantly, making your heart flutter. “But whenever you want to, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t change your mind about it.”
“Then how about after Christmas?”
“Perfect,” he breathes out pecking your lips again.
“I guess we have to rearrange our Christmas plans too. Unless… you don’t want me to go home with you.”
“None of that shit anymore, baby. I want you with me all the time,” he blurts out making you smile. He will never hold anything back from now on, this mishap taught you both a lesson about communication and honesty. He turns to look out the window and you follow his gaze realizing the blizzard has completely snowed the two of you in. “I think we might be trapped here for a while,” he states, a small smirk tugging on his lips.
“Oh no, what a disaster!” you moan, voice still shaky from the crying, but your comment makes the both of you laugh.
“Luckily, you still have all your stuff here,” he huffs looking back at you.
“Mhm, luckily,” you breathe out before pulling him down for another kiss.
Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#fanficmas2020#fanficmas 2020#watchmegetobsessed fanficmas#watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020
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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 8
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: T for language?
Warnings: None? I think? Please let me know if I missed something
Notes: Bit of fluff with some anxiety/update on primary conflict. Next chapter will be a cute date with Dani, the one after that will be maximum h*rny, and then what will likely be the finale. Music for this chapter here. PS this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I hope y'all still enjoy it.
Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony
Chapter 8: Obbligato
(Obbligato: An instrumental part which is essential in a piece of music)
“Okay, okay, serious this time, please? I’ll give you a kiss if you try hard enough,” you promised, grinning up at Daniela as you did. A week had passed since your talk in the library, with the two of you spending most days together, and you were progressing nicely with the musical lessons. Still, your girlfriend (you would never get tired of saying that word) was prone to getting a tad ‘distracted’. By you, usually. Not that it was intentional by any means. There was only so much you could do to keep her focused when the two of you were this close together.
“I could just kiss you anyway,” Daniela teased, leaning in with familiar intent. Right before your lips touch, however, she pulls back and smirks. “But if you insist, I can handle the challenge.” Then she’s turning back towards the piano, carefully finding the starting position. Even with her prior experience, you were impressed with how much she had already learned, and couldn’t help but be immensely proud of her. If anyone could meet Lady Dimitrescu’s expectations within a three month timeframe, it was the two of you. Except, of course, you still had to double-check just what her expectations were.
In the meantime, you were excited to hear your girlfriend play through the sheet music you had written up. Most of what you were working with had come from the family’s storage room, but you had also found some blank sheets, and figured it couldn’t hurt to create songs of your own. This particular one was relatively simple. It had been based on a song from a game you had played years ago, and only posed a moderate challenge due to its interesting rhythm. Daniela had seemed to enjoy playing it, with you even hearing her practice the song outside of your lessons, but had so far today refused to play it seriously.
Finally that was going to change. Once she found the starting notes, she nodded to herself, then started playing. For the first time today her expression is stern, focused. Seeing her like this was nice. She was always cute, you just thought that she was extra cute like this. But you tried not to let yourself get too distracted, knowing that you couldn’t give her feedback if you didn’t pay attention. In your head you “play along”, fingers miming the movements, knowing that it would help you catch any possible mistakes. Throughout the piece there are only a couple that you catch, none of them being severe enough to ruin the experience. Finishing with a little flourish, Daniela returns her gaze to you, grinning expectantly.
“Well? I seem to recall you promising me a reward,” she said, perking a brow. Laughing a little, you roll your eyes, before moving in to give her exactly what she wanted. Both of you are smiling into the kiss, enjoying every moment of it. Soon enough Daniela is running a hand through your hair, and pressing against you more, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. You’re blushing hard now, thoughts going everywhere other than music. It’s not until you pull back for air that you remember what you’re supposed to be doing right now.
“As wonderful as this is… we still have a few more songs to go over,” you murmured, despite how much you wanted to keep kissing Daniela. By the way she groaned in frustration, you figured she felt the same way, more or less. “Hey, don’t fret too much. Think of this as an opportunity to earn a few more rewards,” you teased, gently patting her on the shoulder. For a moment she simply pouts, but eventually she sighs and gets ready to play another song…
------------------------------------
Rushing up the steps, practically two at a time, you desperately hoped that you wouldn’t be late. This was your third “update meeting” with Lady Dimitrescu, which by itself was enough to make you a nervous wreck. Add in the fact that this was the first time you’d be meeting alone? And in her personal study, no less? Well, it was safe to say that you were terrified. You hadn’t even been told why things were different this time. No, you were about as clueless as could be, given the circumstances.
By the time you make it your Lady’s study, you cannot tell whether your heart is racing due to stress or physical exertion. Regardless, you make it there in short time, arriving precisely at the scheduled hour. After taking a moment to settle your nerves, you briefly knock on the chamber door. There’s the sound of movement from inside before the way opens. Lady Dimitrescu has to bend a little to see out, but quickly smiles when she meets your gaze. Which was rather unexpected. The last time you had met with her she had been distanced, although still polite. Then again, Daniela had also been with you, and the focus was, as always, on her.
“Lady Dimitrescu,” you greeted, giving a short bow per customs. Then you were being waved in, brought over to a small sitting area, where you waited for permission to sit down. Once it was given, you relaxed a little. Maybe I don’t have as much reason to be nervous as I thought, you muse.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. There are no reasons for you to be unsettled, as far as I am aware,” Lady Dimitrescu said, smile disappearing for a moment at the end. But it’s back as quickly as it had vanished. Did she suspect something? Perhaps she had seen the way Daniela looked at you, or even overheard the whisperings of your roommates. Both thoughts do little other than renew your anxiety. Noticing this, Alcina frowns and shakes her head. “I was merely joking. Now, let us get to the reason for our meeting: How are Daniela’s lessons fairing? There is only so much I can glean from listening.” Glad to have something to think about other than your secret relationship with your boss’ daughter, you nodded and began explaining.
“Lady Daniela is making outstanding progress, in my opinion. Even with her occasional… lapses in attention, once she puts her mind to something, she’s quick to master it. At this point she can sight read nearly as fast and accurately as myself. However, we’re still going over vocabulary, as well as keys and their corresponding chords,” you answered, barely able to maintain eye contact with your employer. Thankfully, she seems to have accepted the inevitability of your nervousness. You were especially thankful now that you prepared to ask her a question. “My Lady, may I inquire about what specifically you expect from my teachings? If there are certain genres you wish for Daniela to be familiar with, or techniques-... I must admit I am unsure as to how to best meet your requirements.”
Slowly reclining in her chair, Alcina appears to ponder your question. In the meantime she sips at her beverage, holding the cup as if it were a fragile heirloom (which it could very well be), eyes looking into the middle distance. Then she gives a soft hum, setting her cup down and returning her attention to you.
“I suppose I can understand your concern. In some ways you have already exceeded my expectations,” she said, expression oddly plain in comparison to her positive phrasing. “My daughter has rarely invested herself in anything as much as she has in your lessons. For this, I am left wondering what she finds so captivating- the music, or the one who pulls the strings?... But that is not the answer to your inquiry, is it?” In that moment, you are incredibly still, willing yourself to keep a straight face, despite the racing of your heart. At your silence, Alcina perks a brow, expecting you to respond. You can’t, your mouth suddenly dry. “What I expect is a passion to educate, a drive to see my daughter flourish. I expect you to teach her exactly as much as she wants you to, focusing on whatever brings her the most joy. But I expect professionalism. Your duties come first, above your health, happiness, and all other desires. Am I understood?”
“Yes, my Lady. Of course, my Lady,” you replied, stuttering, eyes wide. Did she know? Or merely suspect?... There’s another thought, one you try desperately not to voice, only to hear the words fill the room before you can stop yourself. “May I ask where Lady Daniela’s desires fit into this?” Silence hangs heavy over the room for several seconds. Your employer has narrowed her eyes, lips curled downwards into a sharp scowl, watching you with thinly-veiled anger. All you can do is gulp and wait for her response. When it comes, you are surprised by the stability of her tone. It was almost as if she respected your gall.
“She is young still, with the mind of a lovesick maiden. Daniela does not know what she wants, not really, nor does she understand what she needs. If her… flirtatious nature begins to interrupt your instruction, then your response must be swift, and uninterested. Regardless of how unkindly she takes your rejection, I will ensure that she does not harm you,” Lady Dimitrescu said, giving a stern nod at the end. Though her tone was reassuring, you hardly felt better, considering you were far past the point of turning Daniela down (if anything, you had only turned her on). “Now, with that settled, I believe I should let you return to your duties. Oh, and do tell Cynthia that the tea she brewed was perfect, should you happen to see her.”
Then she looked away, practically ignoring your continued existence. So you rose to your feet, gave another bow, and left before your panic could devolve into a breakdown. Daniela is not going to be happy about this.
#daniela dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu x reader#resident evil: village#re8 village#serenade#my brain got stuck on this for some reason#sorry it took so long#very excited for the date chapter tho!#gonna be hecking cute
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but i can't see you every night, free
you and suga have been dating for about four months but nobody on the team knows about it yet. the two of you didn’t mean to keep it a secret for so long — it’s just been nice not having anyone ask too many questions or make constant jokes. they’d all know eventually but for now, it’s still fun to sneak around with your boyfriend.
or car sex with sugawara
words: 2.5k
cw: fem!reader, exhibitionism, fingering, vaginal penetration, pet names, degrading (one line), cursing, minors dni.
There was something about long car rides that always put you at ease; you weren’t sure if it was the long stretch of road before you or the slight rumble that came with being in a moving vehicle. Whatever it was, it made you immediately say yes when the boys asked you to accompany them on their trip to a beach resort they found for the summer.
How could you say no to two weeks with your favorite people at a gorgeous resort? Plus, you might be able to sneak some time with Sugawara.
You and Suga have been dating for about four months but nobody on the team knows about it yet. The two of you didn’t mean to keep it a secret for so long — it’s just been nice not having anyone ask too many questions or make constant jokes. They’d all know eventually but for now, it’s still fun to sneak around with your boyfriend.
And so here you were, sitting in the passenger seat as Suga barreled down the highway. The ride wasn’t super long, only a few hours, but Daichi made sure there were a few stops for gas and snacks. It was peaceful inside the car, the only sounds were the low hum coming from the radio and the light snores coming from Hinata, Nishinoya, and Yamaguchi who had fallen asleep in the backseat hours ago. Suga’s eyes were concentrated on the road while you stared out the window, enjoying the scenery.
That was until you felt a hand on your thigh. You looked down and saw your boyfriend’s hands rubbing at your thigh, exposed thanks to the shorts you were wearing. Looking up, you notice that his attention never faltered. He just wanted his hands on you and it made you smile. Placing your hand on top of his and squeezing a bit, you brought your attention back to the window.
It was another few minutes of comfortable silence before you felt Suga’s hand moving up your thigh. You didn’t think anything of it first until the pad of his thumb rubbed against your clothed pussy. Your eyes widen, looking over at him and seeing him staring back at you — just for a brief moment. The look he gives makes you press your thighs together, you know what that look means but he can’t actually be thinking that right now.
“Seriously?” you whisper, remembering that you weren’t alone in the car.
He chuckles, taking a second to look at the rearview mirror before his eyes return to the road. “Everyone’s still asleep, princess.”
You look behind you and, sure enough, there are three sleeping boys in the backseat. For good measure, Yamaguchi even had his headphones plugged in, hopefully keeping him from hearing the two of you.
Suga’s hand starts moving again and you probably shouldn’t let him but even while he’s driving, you can hear the anticipation in his breath. The cons of sneaking around are that you don’t always have time to be intimate. For the past few weeks, you two have been relying on the makeout sessions at your house after volleyball practice. Not to mention you almost got caught the last time he fucked you.
It wasn’t your fault that Suga gets so riled up after practice. It was his turn to lock up the gym and he lingered behind under the guise of working on his serves. Once everyone was gone, he pinned you to the locker room door. Being the good (secret) girlfriend that you were, you tried to visit Suga and the boys during practice — sometimes it had its rewards.
The way Suga was pounding into your cunt kept you two from noticing that Tanaka and Noya had made their way back to the gym after forgetting something. Suga acted quickly and covered your mouth with his hand, quieting your sobs until the coast was clear. You had no idea how they didn’t notice their precious setter was railing one of their friends.
You’re brought back to reality when you hear the button on your shorts snap open. If you weren’t so terrified of one of the sleeping boys suddenly waking up and seeing what Suga was doing, you’d probably commend him for being able to do all of this while staying focused on driving.
“Please, baby?” he asks. His other hand gripping the steering wheel with want. “Haven’t been able to touch that pretty pussy in so long.” You hadn’t realized one of your hands grabbed his wrist. You want to tell him no; to wait until you could sneak off at the resort. But you had needs too.
Against your better judgment, you let go of his wrist.
The sadistic grin that grows on Suga’s face catches you by surprise, but your attention is immediately broken when his fingers slip past your panties. You hadn’t realized how wet you got from just a few light touches.
“Just focus on the road, my love.” you heard him say. Looking away from the backseat, you try your best to pay attention to the road disappearing underneath you.
And God bless the way Suga knows your body better than you do. He teased you a bit at first, but the rational part of his brain knew that time wasn’t really on your side. With his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, two of his fingers pushed in and you were embarrassed at how quickly you were gushing around him.
He laughed beside you. “Has my baby missed me too?” All you can do at this point is whine in response. “I promise once we’re alone, I’m going to ruin this pretty little cunt okay?”
Your thighs press together at his words and all you can think is Please let me cum, please let me cum, please, please, please…
Suga took notice and brushed up against that one spot he knew would drive you crazy — wanting to get you off as badly as you did. You were right there, trying so hard to cover your moans as to not alert anyone, scratching at the car seat. He can feel your pussy clench down on his fingers, his good girl is so close just a little bit more…
And your cellphone rings, startling the both of you. Worried that the sudden noise would wake the boys, you slap Suga’s hand away. Quickly buttoning up your shorts, you turn over your phone and see Daichi’s picture on the screen.
“H-hey what’s up?”
“Oh, did I wake you from a nap?” he asks, definitely noticing the hitch in your voice.
“Yeah,” you lie, your pussy throbbing after being denied its release. “What did you need, Daichi?”
“Tell Suga to take the next exit. We’re taking a 20-minute break.”
A laugh escapes you. “We’d be at the resort by now if it weren’t for all these breaks, you know.”
“Hey!” Daichi teases. “I’m just making sure our drivers don’t get tired. See you soon.”
The call ends and you look over at Suga, letting him know about Daichi’s plans. He rolls his eyes but proceeds to take the exit anyway. The frustration on your face must be noticeable cause he places his hand on your thigh again.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you soon.”
You want to respond but Hinata and the others start waking up and suddenly, both of Suga’s hands are on the steering wheel.
After one last break, you all had finally made it to the resort — and, thankfully, Suga kept his hands to himself the entire time. The extended drive had tired everyone out and it had been pretty late anyway, so it was decided that it would be best to turn in for the night.
The cabin you all rented for the trip was quaint but it had enough space for all of you — of course, you’d be rooming with Kiyoko and Yachi which would only make it harder for you and Suga to get some time alone.
Daichi realized that the fridge in the kitchen hadn’t been stocked, meaning there wouldn’t be any food for breakfast.
“I’ll see if there’s a convenience store,” Suga offered, keys already in hand. “We can just get some essentials for now.” His eyes glanced over in your direction and you quickly caught on.
“I can go with him,” You announced, trying your best to sound nonchalant. Nobody seemed to notice and Daichi thanked you two for offering.
And you and Suga were back in the car, off to run your little errand. But something was telling you that there was something else on your sweet boyfriend’s mind as he drove into the night.
“I don’t think the convenience store would be around here,” you said sarcastically, taking note of the remote area Suga had taken you to. “Are you kidnapping me?”
He had somehow taken the two of you to a heavily wooded area, with trees dense enough that it was impossible for anyone to see where you were. The car was turned off and your boyfriend had gestured for you to sit in his lap. You hopped over the console and greedily climbed on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Suga’s hands circled your waist, fingers rubbing against your skin. “I don’t think it counts as kidnapping if you’re coming willingly.” He laughs at his own joke, you roll your eyes. To silence him, you close the distance and press your lips against his.
He leans in almost immediately, tongue entering your mouth as his fingers dig into your waist. He pulls away to attach his lips to your neck, biting down causing you to whine.
“Not too hard, Kou,” Remembering the last time Suga left a hickey on you — Hinata noticed it during practice and blasted it for everyone to hear. You didn’t think the “burning yourself with a curling iron” excuse would work a second time. Suga grunts in frustration but relents to your request, removing your top and nipping at your chest.
“Better?” he asks, tongue swiping at your covered nipple.
Playing with the ends of his hair, you pout. “No, actually,” and Suga quirks his eyebrow. “I want more, Kou…” You say, grinding into him. He had been doing such a good job today of keeping his own desires hidden but the way his cock was hardening underneath you said everything you needed to know.
He feigns surprise when he looks up at you. “Does my princess wanna get fucked here?” he asks as if he isn’t unbuttoning your shorts this very moment. “Being away from me has turned you into a needy slut, hm?”
His vulgar words force a choked sob to leave your lips. You can feel his fingers rubbing against your clit and now, without an audience in the car with you, there’s nothing stopping you from moaning as loud as you want. He bites down on your chest again, with enough force that you’re sure he left a mark this time, at least it’s in a place nobody will see.
But as good as it feels, you need more. “Koushi, please,” a beg. “I didn’t get to cum last time...you promised.”
And, being the ever so generous boyfriend that he is, Suga pushes your panties to the side and shoves two fingers inside you. Fuck does he love the sound of your cries in his ear. You were so wet for him, your arousal running down his hand. Oh, how needy you must have been today when he tried to play with you earlier. From the way your walls were sucking him in, he knew you were close and your whines of, “Please, please, please…” just egged him on even further.
Creaming all over his hand, the tension you felt all day finally released. Suga felt you slump on top of him, trying to catch your breath. “Think you could do that again for me, baby?” A sweet kiss is placed on the side of your face. “Want my pretty baby to cum on my cock. Can you do that for me?”
You’re already so sensitive but he’s speaking to you so sweetly and you just want to please him. “You’re gonna have to do all the work,” He laughs above you, grabbing your chin for another long kiss.
Suga takes his time removing your shorts and panties, leaving you completely bare from the waist down. Before you know it, he’s rubbing his cock against your folds; your juices making a mess of him. He lifts you up so you sink down on him, you cry out in sensitivity but he coaxes you through it.
He gives you a moment to adjust before slowly lifting you up only to slam you back down. “God, you’re so pretty,” he groans, kissing down your neck. Suga tugs your bra down, exposing your breasts. “Let me hear you, baby.” Just then he bites down on your nipple, rolling the bud with his tongue.
“Kou– ” Tears form in your eyes from pleasure as you pull on his hair, crying out. It had been far, far too long since he was inside you. “More...I want more.”
And, of course, he obliges, bouncing you on his cock with so much force there was definitely going to be bruises leftover from his fingers on your waist. Your sopping cunt always took him so well, gushing and clenching around him. He was so lucky to have you.
Your whines start getting higher and higher, telling Suga that you’re about to cum. He removes a hand from your waist to reach down and rub at your clit, sending you off the deep end.
“Ahh, can I cum? Please? Please, please, please …” your begging makes Suga fuck you harder. He loved when you begged. You were always such a good girl, asking your sweet boyfriend to make you cum. Not that he would ever deny you, of course, but hearing your cute little voice made him want to ruin you.
“Cum for me, baby,” Suga commands, his own release fastly approaching. “Want you to cream on my cock.”
You practically scream when you finally cum, your walls gripping his cock as your legs shake. Suga’s mouth hangs open, thrusting into you and chasing his own high. He’s got his own tell when he’s about to cum; pulling you to his chest, wanting you as close as possible.
“So good, baby, s’good for me fuck.” And, with a groan in your ear, he’s cumming inside you. Your pussy milking him dry.
The two of you each catch your breaths. After a bit, Suga cups your cheeks and leaves dozens of kisses all over your face. Your laughter fills up the silence. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats in between kisses.
“I love you too, Kou.” And you want to be like this with him forever. Maybe it’s time that you tell everyone about your relationship. You wondered if he felt the same but for now, you cozied up to him, enjoying the closeness.
“You know,” he starts, “They’re probably gonna wonder where we are.”
You really couldn’t bring yourself to care.
#haikyuu#sugawara#sugawara koushi#haikyuu smut#sugawara x reader#sugawara smut#x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#✨#✨suga
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Period Pains (Iwa, Suna, Bokuto)
Periods still stuck. Nothing has changed since part one. But these boys continue to comfort me when I feel like my heart, head, and stomach are going to explode :D. I hope they comfort you too!
A/N: It’s been rough homies. It really do be your own body that tries to attack you -_-.
Warnings: EMETOPHOBIA (in Suna’s there’s a semi detailed description of vomiting); swearing; foot massage in Bokuto’s (Ik that makes some people uncomfy); gym bros.
Iwaizumi Hajime
It was common knowledge that you and Iwaizumi were two halves of one insane power couple.
No questions asked, you both were generally independent when it came to taking care of your own matters, and you were both were pretty independent.
But there were exceptions- moments where you would both lean on each other, using the other as an anchor and a crutch to get back up and stay on your feet.
Your period was one of those times when times you needed your beloved boyfriend to play that role.
Today was one of those days.
You and Iwaizumi head over to the gym at around 6 am to get your early morning workout in before you go through with the rest of your day.
You had told Iwaizumi the night before, and he asked if you still wanted to “go gym” the next morning.
You said yes, hoping that a solid workout would help with some of the cramps.
And once you had got there, you had your hopes up.
The first half of your workout was going really well, and you hadn’t thought of your cramps at all.
But then it hit you while you were walking over to get your water bottle.
You didn’t know why, but the cramps hit you hard. Instantly you went to the bathroom to try and compose yourself, but that wasn’t really helping either.
You didn’t wanna bother Iwaizumi mid workout, so you tried to carry on.
Unfortunately, that didn’t work out too well.
As you tried to keep going, the cramps in your stomach got worse and worse, until you were pressing your stomach with your hands, curled over yourself on your yoga mat.
Taking deep breaths, you tried to relieve the only worsening cramps.
It wasn’t until a warm, firm hand caressed your back did you look up from your curled up form.
“1 to 10.” Iwaizumi asks you with a soft voice.
“4.” You say as you curl into yourself once more.
It was the pain ranking system that you’d both been using since early on in your relationship. You knew exactly what he meant, and you were honestly thankful that he understood you were in pain by just looking at you.
“Lying to me doesn’t do any good, ya know.” His words are harsh, yet the concern in his voice kills any intimidation that was supposed to come across.
“7.”
“Sounds right.” Iwa’s one arm wraps around you, digging into your side, his thumb massaging circles into the spot right above your left hip, while the other hand rubbed softer circles onto your lower belly.
You felt your muscles untense as his hands worked away at your cramping stomach with deep pressure only he had the strength to apply.
“What’s wrong with her?''
Both of you look up to see some guy (he seemed like a newbie, neither of you had seen him before) talking to your boyfriend.
“What.” Iwa’s voice is dry, in shock at the fact that this dude was in your business.
“Did she injure herself working out or something?” He asks, as if you were incapable of speaking for yourself. “Not being careful in the gym can be really dangerous, especially if you’re not trained.” He speaks in your direction this time.
Iwaizumi Hajime (27) ATHLETIC TRAINER, now looked like he was ready to commit murder.
Some of the regulars had now turned to watch, most giving the guy dirty looks.
A couple of you and Iwa’s closer gym bros step towards you both, making some preparations for Iwaizumi to swing.
But before anyone can really say anything, your voice cuts through.
“That’s real rich coming from you. The only thing that’s gonna cause an injury is your horrendous deadlift form.”
Your boyfriend goes from a state of shock into a fit of snickers, the guys on the side also amused. The guy in front of you goes completely red.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about you bi-”
“I actually think she’s right. I was a bit worried, too.” One of Iwa’s (very buff) friends stepped forward, smiling at you two before putting a hand a on the newbie’s shoulder. “Let’s go check it out.”
As you sigh out, your boyfriend stares at you with pride and amusement both bright in his eyes. “All that pain and you’re still able to come up with snarky comments.”
As his hand returns to soothing circular motions, you dig your face into his chest.
The soft touches from Iwa were enough to ease your pains, and allowed you to embrace your moment of vulnerability with your sweet boyfriend.
“Let’s dip and get food, okay? And you can just rest at home. You deserve a break.”
“Weren’t you saying something about how the grind doesn’t stop-”
“It stops when your health is on the line. Let’s go.”
Suna Rintarou
When it comes to you being on your period, Suna is by far the most hands off while simultaneously being the most attentive.
Suna wasn’t necessarily the biggest on PDA. But when it was just you two? He had no problem being all up against you.
The only situation Suna does not know how to navigate is when he can’t read someone’s moods or behaviors. Luckily for him, you were overly clear with his emotions and needs when you were on your period, even if those moods and needs were all over the place.
Early on, when you got together, he was a bit surprised to see how bad your period could get.
He’d walked in to your room one day to see you in a fetal position, rolling around on the floor.
He’d seen you go a full day of eating only junk food, upset and trying to satiate all your cravings.
He’d also seen you go without sleep because of how bad your cramps were.
Essentially, he’d learned you’d go through really bad health habits, and he’d assigned himself the roll of trying to make sure you maintained some regularity while on your period.
He was ready for anything, so ready that he made it look effortless.
When Suna came back from practice one day, he couldn't find you anywhere in your shared home. Which isn’t a problem, but he doesn’t recall you saying you were going anywhere....
It’s not till he lazily stalks over to the hallway and hears a horrible retching sound that he realizes you are still home.
Swinging the door open, he finds you perched over the toilet, vomiting in what looks to be a super painful manner.
“Rin...ta...r-oh fuck” you can barely get his name out before you start throwing up again.
Your boyfriend takes a step into the bathroom, but you toss an intense ‘no’ his way with your hand.
“It smells disgusting… and… I don’t want to be smothered right now…” you sigh as you breathe between your bouts of vomiting.
He takes a deep breath, recomposing himself. He knows your period can get pretty bad, but he hasn’t seen it get this bad in a while. He obliges, but he doesn’t move from the doorway.
As you start your next fit, Suna’s face remains blank, but his heart twists.
He slowly approaches you, kneeling beside you.
“I said to not.. To smother me....” your protest is weakened by your body inhibiting your ability to speak.
Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he gently grabs your hair, pulling strand by strand, until its completely out of your face
(alternatively, if you have short hair), Suna keeps a bit of space between you two, but he lets his hand gently rest on your back, rubbing in soothing circles .
Your hand goes up to push him away, but he grabs your fist with his larger hand, weaving his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb into the back of your hand.
“I won’t smother, don’t worry. But I’m gonna be here.” He’s soft in his tone, unfazed despite the relative unpleasantness of the situation.
As you finally stop, you fall back, your hands covering your eyes.
As you lean back, your body giving out, your head finds its way onto the plush chest of your green eyed boyfriend. He doesn’t touch you, but just acts as a makeshift couch for you to lean on.
“Rintarou.” “
Yeah?”
“I need your touch.”
Your words are blunt but effortlessly received as your boyfriend instinctively wraps his arms around you, languidly stroking your thigh with one hand and holding your stomach with the other. He adjusts you so that you’re pressed up against him.
“Better, babe?” he asks as he backs up into the wall, loosening up as you relax against him.
“Mmm.” You croon, sinking down against him. “I should brush my teeth, I’m sorry you came back to this.”
“It’s fine. Get cleaned up. Wanna watch movies? I got Chinese takeout.”
“I don’t want Chinese,” you comment.
“What do you want?”
“Pizza.”
“...”
“...”
He sighs. “I’ll be back in 20.”
“I love you.” you smile at him as you tell him what he already knows.
He presses his nose into your hair, letting your conditioner’s scent fill his nose. “Mmm… and I love you.”
“How much?” You ask.
“How much do I what?”
“How much do you love me?”
“Enough to get you pizza at 10 pm in the pouring rain.”
“It’s raining??”
“Yeah.”
“...Nevermind I don’t want pizza anymore.”
“Well I want pizza now so I’m going.” He pulls himself up and out of the bathroom despite the way you tried to cling to his leg to keep him from leaving.
“Rin!”
Bokuto Koutarou
Bokuto is honestly the ideal boyfriend, especially when you are on your period.
Early in your relationship, when you got on your period, you didn’t tell Bo. But he ended up learning the hard way.
He’d come back from practice a bit later than usual and didn’t text you. Usually he didn’t, especially if he knew he’d only be a little late. But when he walked through the doors, instead of finding his usually happy, bubbly girlfriend who usually showered him with love, he was greeted with you crying.
“W-why didn’t-t you text me, Kou? Do you-u not care about me?”
He had nooo idea what was going on, and he was very panicked and sad.
He felt like the rug was pulled out from under him when you proceeded to snuggle into his chest 2 minutes later, cries completely stopped. His little owl eyes were wide open and very confused.
2 days later, he asked about the situation again, scared to bring it up.
But you were really embarrassed as you explained how you were on your period and could get extreme mood swings. You apologized and promised that you’d never do something wild like that again.
But Bo wasn’t content with your answer.
He went and asked Akaashi if he knew anything about what periods were like (he was shy to ask you).
Akaashi found the lovely statistic of “period pain being of equal pain levels of a heart attack” and Bokuto lost his shit. “
I’ve never had a heart attack, but they kill people! And they go for the hospital for those! And she apologized for being a little emotional… that doesn’t seem right, right Kaashi?”
Akaashi agrees, of course. And sends Bokuto off with the advice of “she’s always there for you. All you have to do is be there for her.”
When the next time you had your period rolled around, and you found yourself a little emotional, you did your best to control it. But Bokuto was having none of it.
“Baby, you don’t have to hide it! You can be emotional!! I don’t mind. You always help me when I’m emotional! I can do the same for you. I’ll take the best care of you, I promise!”
You would honestly call it a turning point in your relationship, cause this was when you learned to start really depending on Bo. And you realized just how dependable he could really be.
When Bokuto comes back from practice today, he finds you splayed out on the couch, koala-hugging a pillow, whimpering a “welcome home” between grunts of pain.
Bokuto stays quiet as he walks up to the couch, dipping down to place a kiss on your cheek before stripping his sweaty t-shirt off as he walks off to take a shower.
Once he comes out, fresh and clean, he throws on a comfortable t-shirt and shorts before coming back to find you on the couch.
He grabs your legs, pulls them up, sits down, and then places them in his lap. “Baby, do you want a massage? I can press your legs.”
“You don’t have to, Kou, it’s okay.”
“I want to!” He cheers back as he starts to knead at your calves, moving down to your feet and slowly pressing over your socks.
You sigh and huff, slowly relaxing as the soothing feeling of the pressure applied to your feet counteracts the pain you felt in your lower abdomen.
While Bokuto concentrates intensely on massaging your calves again, he perks up at the sound of a sniffle.
Swinging his head, he sees you slowly dissolving into sobs.
Panicked, he slides your legs onto the couch and comes by your face.
“Baby, did I press too hard? Did I hurt you? Please tell me.”
“No, no, Kou, you’re fine. I’m just- I’m so lucky and blessed to have such a loving amazing boyfriend~” you get the words out as tears stream down your face, turning to look him in his big, gorgeous, gold eyes. “I don’t deserve you, my love.”
Now, for reasons unknown, Bokuto finds himself crying as well.
“Why are you crying!” You cry and laugh out at the same time.
“Because I have such a sweet girlfriend who always showers me in love! Don’t say I don’t deserve you. You’re perfect for me.”
Cheesy as the exchange was, it was really soft for you. Because you knew Bokuto, and you knew he meant every word exactly as is from the bottom of his heart.
Crying while your laughs got lighter, you pull him in and kiss him all over his face.
He laughs too, and holds your face as he pulls away, swiping the tears from under your eyes. “Your turn!!”
After smothering you with kisses, he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom, so he can love on you more, with enough space for both of you to lay next each other and peacefully drift off to sleep.
A/N: Gym guys who don’t mind their business seriously bother me. I hope you all enjoyed! Requests and commentary are greatly appreciated :D
#tw: emetophobia#haikyu#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyu headcanons#haikyu fluff#haikyu imagines#iwaizumi hajime#suna rintaro#bokuto koutarou#iwaizumi#suna#bokuto#iwaizumi headcanons#suna headcanons#bokuto headcanons#iwaizumi imagines#suna imagines#bokuto imagines#iwaizumi fluff#suna fluff#bokuto fluff#iwaizumi x reader#suna x reader#bokuto x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!! headcanons#haikyuu!! imagines
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Sam Holland - Don't Tell
A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.
Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.
Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?
THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?
‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’
No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.
With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.
You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’
Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.
Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.
“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.
Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.
You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.
“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.
His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.
This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.
After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.
He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.
He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.
As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.
“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”
You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.
You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.
Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.
Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.
You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.
“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.
He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.
“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”
You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?
He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.
“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.
“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”
His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.
“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”
He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.
“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.
He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.
“Sam… please.”
He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.
“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”
You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.
You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.
Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.
“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”
This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.
As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…
“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.
He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.
Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.
“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.
“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.
He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.
Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”
Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.
Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.
“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.
He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.
They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.
“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.
His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.
“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”
You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.
His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.
“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.
He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.
“Yes, Sammy…”
Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.
Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.
“Don’t tell anyone, please.”
“As fucking if,” you mumble.
“You ok?” he asks after a moment.
“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.
“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”
“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”
He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.
“y/n!”
“What!” you bellow right back at him.
He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.
“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”
A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”
Shit.
This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.
“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.
You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.
#sam holland#sam holland imagine#sam holland x reader#sam holland fic#sam holland angst#sam holland x y/n#sam holland fluff#sam holland x you#sam holland one shot#sam holland smut#sam holland blurb#sam holland x fem reader#sam holland x f reader#samuel holland
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Storm Bringer Spoilers (10)
A small part from the Epilogue where Chuuya and Dazai met up with Dr. Wollstonecraft. It was from one of the translation requests I got long ago and this part is fun, everyone is so adorable, so here it is.
Feel free to retranslate if you want. Just note that I am not a native speaker in either Japanese or English so I make mistakes sometimes.
Chuuya went back to the pier, and as he was about to get on his bike, a black car slowly approached him. The window at the back seat slowly came down and the person inside called out, "Chuuya".
That was Dazai. It was a rare sight. He had his black suit and his tie on, the formal attire for guests greeting.
"Work is in five minutes."
Chuuya and Dazai were standing under the gangway of a luxury passenger ship.
That was a ridiculously expensive fancy liner. The ship that Shirase had boarded before that was incomparable to it, both in size and materials. Its paint was chalk-white without a spot, the five-story guest rooms were decorated like the finest hotels. No matter where the passengers went, they would be accompanied by a skilled guide on board. The ship was also known for its navigational capability. Even when it sailed at twice the speed of an ordinary ship, its turbulence was less than one tenth of a normal one.
That ship was called "The Boswellian".
The government's passenger ship that only high-ranking government officials were allowed to board.
The gangway was lowered and delegation descended in front of Chuuya and Dazai's eyes.
First were the guardsmen in black suits. They cautiously looked around at all directions. The bulges around their waists showed that they were all carrying guns.
After that came some bearded men who looked like officials. Old, capable, with gray brown eyes that showed no hints of what they were thinking. Their clothes were of top-quality. A man carrying a cane with a golden spiral pattern on it was pushing the crew who was trying to help him off board with the tip of his cane, so crudely as if he was chasing away a stray dog on the street.
"The noble demons of England have showed up." Dazai murmured in a voice that only Chuuya who was standing next to him could hear.
Those people were high-ranking officials of the British government who came here for the post-incident investigation, the “Assassination King incident" that occurred through multiple levels of state secrets. A team of investigators were dispatched to Japan to investigate this serious case that went beyond a normal criminal case, and report to the government. And Port Mafia had come forward to welcome the team and cooperate with them in the investigation, as a party to the case.
Illegal organization Port Mafia is in charge of welcoming the investigation team of the British government.
It was an odd situation, but there was a certain rationale and calculation of the Boss behind it.
First of all, the one who had the whole picture of the incident this time was neither the Ministry of Foreign Affairs nor the police, but Port Mafia. As from the beginning, the European governments had been trying to hide it completely from the Japanese government. Also from the Port Mafia side, they also had a reason to keep a close eye on the movements of the mighty British government.
That was because they suspected that these people might try to eliminate every person of Port Mafia who was involved in this incident to cover up the "Assasination King incident" that arose from the state secrets.
Obviously, Port Mafia had no intention to reveal the truth and the secrets of the case. But it was hard to tell how much the British would believe in words of a criminal organization. That was why Dazai was sent to greet them. If they really had the intention to eliminate the people involved, Dazai would have to negotiate to stop that from happening. If the negotiation failed, then Port Mafia would have to eliminate the investigation team before the other party had the chance to eliminate them. That was why Chuuya was accompanying him. Depending on the other party's actions, this might turn into an interstate war that involved the whole Port Mafia.
“Well, let the fun deception game begin.”, Dazai said excitedly as he headed towards the investigation team.
The guard men immediately reacted to the person approaching, their hands reaching for their waists where the guns were.
“Thank you for coming all the way here, ladies and gentlemen of the great British Empire.” Dazai's attitude changed completely as he greeted the guests with a fluent and courteous voice. “You must be the members of the investigation team? I know this is sudden but may I ask who your representative is?”
“Representative?” the guardsman whom Dazai directed this question to looked rather confused and tilted his head. "This is the technical advisory unit of the investigation team so if you say representative, I think that might be Dr. Wollstonecraft...”
Dr. Wollstonecraft?
Chuuya tilted his head. He had heard that name somewhere before.
“Aa!” Dazai seemed to get it right away. “I heard that name before. That’s the skilled engineer who designed Investigator Adam Frankenstein, right? Hmm... you must be Dr. Wollstonecraft then?” Dazai followed the gazed of the guardsman and called out to the most dignified and oldest man in the investigation team. He had a shaggy white beard, a receding hairline, and two medals for achievements in the military science sector pinned to his chest.
The old man noticed Dazai’s voice and laughed out cheerfully.
“No no, I’m not Dr. Wollstonecraft. I’m just tagging along. Doctor is... Look! She's getting off the ship right now.”
Dazai and Chuuya followed the old man’s eyes and looked up at the ship’s gangway. At the top of it, an oversized travel suitcase was left there unassisted. Wait...
“Okay. Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Wollstonecraft... Oh so this is the said country? It looks bigger than on the map.”
The small figure that appeared from behind the suitcase, no matter how you looked at her...
“... How old is that?”
That was a little girl.
Blond hair, white blouse. The suitcase was big, but she was also small enough to be completely hidden behind it. She wore a big pair of round glasses that covered half of her face. And on her chest were more than twenty medals for achievements in science.
“Hey hey...” Chuuya made a drawn face.
“Oh! It's getting interesting.” Dazai laughed happily.
The little girl struggled down the gangway. She was holding the oversized suitcase, or rather, clinging onto it as it dragged her downwards.
“Heave ho! I am.. heave-ho... Dr... heave-ho! Wollstonecraft Godwin Shelley, heave-ho!”. The girl spoke every time she got off one step, still clinging on to the heavy luggage. “People call me the girl with a genius brain but, heave-ho, those are people who don't have the ability to see the essence of things. Heave-ho! My achievements are thanks to my special skill that make any designs possible. Heave-ho! And because I am a genius.”
“Hey, aren't you going to help her with that heavy luggage?” Chuuya couldn't stand it anymore and asked the bearded old man next to him.
“Hahaha. Doctor is the type of person who doesn't want anyone to touch her luggage.” the old man laughed cheerfully. "Even Her Majesty wouldn't be able to take that from her. Because if we do so, she will start crying and screaming, just like a kid who has gone back 10 years in time."
“If she goes back that much, isn't she gonna end up in her mother’s belly again...?” Chuuya said with a tired face.
“Also, she may look like that, but Doctor was really looking forward to this trip. That case is filled with her favorite essentials for this trip. No-one will be able to take it from her.”
“Old man! Don’t go around talking about me like I am just a normal little girl! I might be short but I will be a full-grown decent adult very soon.... heave-ho!”
Dr. Shelley finally got to the end of the gangway. She wiped off the sweat on her face and fixed her clothes with her hands. “Phew! Nice to meet you again, people of Japan. Well... you are Chuuya-kun right? Thanks for taking care of Adam.”
Upon hearing Adam’s name, Chuuya's face looked like he just shallowed a bitter thing down his throat. "I am not sure." , he then said. "The one who was taken care of was me."
The little girl fixed the big glasses to the middle of her face and stared at Chuuya.
“He died saving me... Doctor, Adam is your best work, right? I'm sorry for breaking it.”
“Hmm.”
Doctor Shelley observed Chuuya from the left, from the right, then stared at him closely from the front. Like she was observing an interesting research subject.
"You are right, Adam is my greatest work." , she said with her arms crossed. “Rather than sending him to a good-for-nothing island country like this for investigation, I’d have him in the lab and continue the research to upgrade him.”
Chuuya listened in silence. His expression was not looking at something in front of him at that moment. What he was seeing was some scenes of the past.
Doctor Shelley cleared her throat like a child then continued, “The best thing about Adam is that, he is equipped with the intelligence to think and judge the situation by himself. In other words, Adam chose to sacrifice himself out of his own will, his own judgement.” Dr. Shelley smiled. “Because you are worth it. I believe in Adam. I appreciate your apology, but it’s not something you need to worry about.”
Chuuya opened his mouth, trying to say something but he couldn't put it into words. Just like a child who had forgotten his way home, he just stood there with a stunned look on his face.
Seeing Chuuya like that, Dazai giggled as if he couldn't do anything about it.
“First off, from the beginning I didn't like the idea of using Adam for such a worthless investigation.” Dr. Shelley crossed her arms, looking sullen. “The government is always like that! They send out machine investigators for missions and when they are done with it, they just blow it up together with all the secret information. Even though we could have got the best test data from interacting with different cultures from those solo missions! Just because it's for the sake of human's life, they think that they can neglect science like that?”
To Chuuya and Dazai’s surprise, Doctor Shelley ordered her subordinate for “that” and had a black tube the length of an arm brought to her.
"That's why, such an ill-natured person like me had installed a detachable sub-processor and non-volatile memory. Without telling the government.” She took out the thing inside the black tube. “In here.”
The thing inside the tube that had the length of an arm, was actually an arm.
That was Adam’s right arm, the arm that Chuuya sent flying and stuck into the ground when he was escaping from inside of the Demonic Beast Guivre.
“This is...” , a question mark appeared on Chuuya’s face. “After the incident, I searched the scene but couldn't find it anywhere. Why is it here?”
“I mean, it's rather obvious to do this, isn't it?” Dr. Shelley put her finger on her huge travel suitcase. After her vital signals were verified, the auto-lock was released.
The figure that came out from the suitcase took the arm. And he said as he was attaching it to himself, “Do you want to hear an Android joke, Chuuya-sama?”
Chuuya stood still in shock. He kept his mouth open in surprise. Finally, he took a breath slowly through that mouth. A deep breath, as deep as he could. Then his expression changed as if he was about to burst.
And he laughed, "Hahaha...!"
#bsd#storm bringer#sb spoilers#bsd spoilers#spoilers#nakahara chuuya#dazai osamu#mary wollstonecraft#bungou stray dogs
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𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶
i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.
warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*
being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.
which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.
on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.
being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.
therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.
and i was glad he did.
this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.
yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.
my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.
and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.
if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.
izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.
but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.
you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.
i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.
and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.
the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.
i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.
my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.
i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.
so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.
but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.
i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”
if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.
so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”
i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.
eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.
but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.
with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.
i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.
i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.
i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.
he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.
i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.
he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.
i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.
i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.
but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.
to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.
i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.
a moment. a look. a sentence.
anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.
so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.
he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.
my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.
as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.
my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.
“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.
“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.
“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.
i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.
his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.
until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.
was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.
but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.
i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.
i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.
at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.
when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.
i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.
i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.
yet, i shouldn’t have gone.
i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.
i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.
i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.
because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.
and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.
when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.
i should have left it at that.
when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.
as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.
i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.
i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.
my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.
the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.
my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.
i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.
i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.
in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.
knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.
as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.
this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.
izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.
but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.
they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.
i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.
unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.
lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.
to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.
to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.
i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.
i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.
“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”
i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.
the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.
if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.
“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.
“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.
“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.
“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.
they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.
“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.
he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.
“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“
“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.
but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.
“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”
“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.
“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”
as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.
i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.
now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.
but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.
i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.
“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“
loved that about you?
no, love that about you.
i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.
i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.
“y/n- i-“
“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.
he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.
still head over heels for the angelic sound.
“you haven’t called me that in a long-“
“i quit.”
“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.
i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.
“i quit.” i repeated.
“you don’t mean that.”
he’s right i didn’t, not really.
hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.
“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”
and with that i closed the door.
“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.
leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.
but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.
for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.
*** my little blue bitch working overtime
🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while
#izuku#izuku midoriya#deku#deku x reader#izuku x reader#my hero academia#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#izuku angst#deku angst#deku headcanons#deku imagine
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