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jumbojazzcats93 · 5 months

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Continuously Frayed - Ghost

Summary - Little interactions that fluster Ghost and you.

Tags/Warnings - Art by circeisms on Pintrest, Banners by @/saradika-graphics, MDNI 18+, smut, flirting, sexual tension, implied masturbation, cursing, depictions of combat, grappling, unwarranted anger/irritation, domination @glossysoap @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @quietlyignoringyou

A/N - Personally, I feel like it's so likely that any woman doing field work on the task force has a dominant side. Loves having power over men and babygirling them. I'll also post the final part separately and link it.

Y/N could hear his slow steps before he came through the door. She was just coming off night shift and still struggled sleeping at the right times.

Ghost had just woken up with a tight feeling in his chest and throat, autopiloting to the bright lights of the barracks kitchen. He had his head down, eyes squinted and a hand partly blocking his eyes from the light as he shuffled in. Y/N was leaning against the counter just watching him. She internally cooed with her palm on her chin, slightly covering her mouth to hide a small smile and giggle.

He walked right up to where she was before her feet came into his narrowed line of sight. Shooting his head up, he stared wide eyed at her heavy eyes and enticing expression. "Good morning, Simon." She muttered through her hand. He grunted in response. He was still so warm from sleep that Y/N could feel it coming off of him at this distance. He looked so vulnerable right now; maliable almost. It made her want to take advantage of his seemingly sleepy compliance. Ghost took a sluggish step back and rubbed his face, pressing his palm into his eyes to help wake them up.

"Simon?" "Hhm?" "Would you do me a favor, big boy?" A momentary pause from him. He could do nothing as he felt those words settle hotly in his abdomen, "fuck..." he whispered, peeking over his hand into her eyes, "Yeah?" "Would you help me out? I was going to get a little breakfast bar, but it's a bit out of my reach. Since you're here... why don't you grab it for me?" He glanced up and behind her to what she was talking about and then back at her. She isn't short, but she still looked up at him through her lashes.

Y/N had no intention of moving, she wanted to him to get close. Work around her. Wanted to be in his way. He groaned softly to himself as he nodded and pulled his hand from his face. He wasn't wearing his mask and Y/N could see his skin still flushed warm from sleep. He waited only a moment for her to move before understanding she had no intention of doing so and just reached around easily to grab it. She didn't flinch or shy away, looking up at him even as his chest practically touched her chin. His stomach was fluttering and skin burning under her stare, but he looked down at her as he handed her the snack.

She gave a cocky, mischievous smile and brushed her fingers over his as she plucked her little breakfast bar from his hand, looking him up and down briefly.

"You're such a sweet boy, Si." She lilted

Simon's stomach twisted and he swallowed thickly as his cock throbbed at her praise. He nodded curtly. She liked the wary expression he had on his face as she walked out and headed for the gym. He turned just in time to see her hair swish behind her as she walked out. He struggled to think of what he came in to grab when he suddenly felt the cooling precum on his sweatpants. Letting out a whimper he covered his eyes and leaned against the counter where Y/N was just a few seconds ago.

Regardless of how tight the squad is, Ghost is almost convinced she can't stand him lately. That he must've done something to piss her off with how terse she's been with him. And because half way during the workout this time, Y/N suddenly grabs her shit mumbling, "I can not fucking deal with y'all right now.", before moving to a rack on the other side of the weight room. Soap and gaz choke back laughter because its so obvious to THEM that she's got a crush on Ghost and doesnt know how to deal with it. Blown out pupils, lingering stares and flushed skin; sweating when they've barely even started. But she's so good at making sure HE never catches her acting out.

Y/N is practically killing herself over there now, doubling her reps to get any of the nervous, aroused energy out of her system. She's trembling with the energy of it. She cant get the image of Ghost's print in his shorts or the pump in his arms from doing chest out of her mind. He's sweating and his muscles are so much more defined and the testosterone boost is making his- Y/N sucks in a sharp breathe and decides she needs to go for more weight. She can NOT sit and spiral like this in public.

Meanwhile Ghost keeps glancing at her between sets and worrying she's pushing more weight than she should without a spot so he hesitantly makes his way to her rack while she benches and decides to silently spot for her. When his hands come into view and Y/N trails her gaze backwards to look at his face, she can see the print of his cock in his shorts again and in the middle of letting out a surprised huff of air, she accidentally moans.

He notices her struggling to re-rack the bar and grabs it, slotting it into place allowing her to shoot up with a grumbled, "Jesus fucking christ". She's fanning herself. Is this guy trying to kill her? Is there gonna be a wet spot on the bench when she stands up? Fuck it, she needs to get away from him. She leans forwards to grab her things again and jumps when Ghost slaps his hands onto her shoulders, squeezing them and giving her a little shake. "You're gonna ruin yourself if you try that shit again without a spotter, Y/N. Now get up, you're gonna spot me."

Y/N can hear soap bark a laugh and Gaz tell him to shut up as she looks back at Ghost in false outrage. He begins to take his hands from her shoulders in an attempt to start his set, but she grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down 2 inches away from her face. His eyes are wide, he's caught completely off guard, "Wha-" " Riley. If I have to spot you, i'm gonna be sitting on your fucking face while I do it."

The man is stunned; he's wearing just a regular face mask and knows his ears and neck are starting to turn pink. He swallows thickly and feels heat immediately flash through his body. He can feel his cock come to life as she gently shoves him back and grabs her things from the floor. Y/N spares him one fevered glance and feels her whole body pulse as she sees his wide, confused doe eyes. She takes off towards the women's locker room knowing that, thankfully, no one was ever in the sauna.

Her head swam and her vision lagged as she rolled on to her side and haggardly pushed herself up to her knees. Sweat and blood dripped from her lips and off of her nose. That fuck must've broken it. She blinked rapidly and trailed her gaze to him, trying to focus her vision. He was pulling his knife out of her dead attackers throat, and as her vision cleared she could see blood splattered all across his mask and exposed skin. Ghost stepped forward and reached out to meet her as she pushed herself up and towards him on unsteady legs. "Fuck, Lt...", y/n rasped out. "Fucking had that guy." She muttered in her best attempt at salvaging her pride. He held her up and grabbed her by the chin, moving her head around and carefully looking for anything worse than the obvious injuries. "You know-" She slurred, momentarily averting her gaze while gently blotting at her split lip, "-being covered in blood and dirt is a real good look on you." Their gazes met in a flash. "Quit talking Y/n." He averted his eyes, "You look like shit right now." He quipped.

His throat was tight from anxiety and rage. That guy almost had her. She knew it. She knew he knew it. Her grip on his vest tightened so much the fabric creaked under the tension. "Lt, can you take my helmet off?" A weary smile shifted her features, "I would do it myself, but... I think the only reason I'm still standing is because i'm holding onto you..." He swallowed and quickly scanned the area for any more threats. Their position was certainly compromised, but in her current state, relocating would be a real struggle for y/n. Looking back at her, they locked eyes. He shifted his gaze slightly down to the helmet strap he began fiddling with, carefully taking it off. She wouldn't stop looking at him. It was making him feel hot under all his gear. She lolled her head forward and leaned it onto his vest. "Thank you... Thank you so much for having my back all the time." Simon clenched his jaw and stayed silent. He wondered if she could feel or hear his heart beating. He could feel sweat beginning to form on his back and neck.

He carefully felt around her scalp for any abrasions. Stupid girl had too much confidence in him... HAS too much confidence in him. He patted her head and smoothed down her hair once he realized there were no other hidden head injuries. "You're the best partner i've ever had, Riley." She mumbles into his Kevlar. He furrowed his brows. Fuck, she had to have a head injury. She was never like this. He lifted her face and looked down at her, but the look in her eyes when she looked up at him made his chest tighten up and his face flush. He immediately tucked her head back into his chest. "Alright...", he took a deep breath, missing the weak smile that she couldn't bite back. "Enough of that. Let's sit you back down." He grumbled.

~~~~

"Can't always keep relying on me for everything, sergeant." Ghost had quipped at y/n after escorting her from the small clinic back at base. He was joking, but they both knew he was referring to their private interaction during the mission. Recovered from the shock and delirium of her attack, y/n felt the full brunt of the exposure that came with having spilled such personally held feelings. Ghost could see her turning red and smiled a bit. Knowing her pride was flaring and embarrasment was probably clawing at the inside of her skin, he looked away to give her a shred of respite. "Well, Sir...", she stopped in her tracks. "Maybe you'll just have to spend some time refreshing my training than, yeah?" Her face was still red and her eyes betrayed her frustration and embarrassment at his joke, but.... the coy smirk on her face gave him all the information he needed to interpret what her words meant. Her hand met his forearm with a coaxing squeeze as she stepped a little closer and lowly stated, "Gotta ensure I'm up to your standards." She held his gaze. "Wouldn't wanna disappoint you, Sir." Her hand slid from his arm as she walked off. Simon took a deep breath, lungs shuddering and tight muscles twitching. He clenched his fists as he watched her leave before immediately beelining for his office. The click of the office lock turning echoed in the empty hallway.

You'd gotten on his last nerve.

"Tomorrow, you and I are gonna hit the mats for that retraining you so boldly suggested on Friday."

Is what Ghost had leaned in to quietly growl, but that was after hours of arguing and dealing with your shitty mood during field training. Watching you walk into the combatives gym now in those spandex pants... he suddenly felt like he had bitten off more than he could chew. It made him incredibly antsy knowing it would just be the two of you alone the whole afternoon. Being the combatives instructor and, therefore, the gyms keyholder, no one could come in here unless they had scheduled some time with Ghost himself. It was something he had originally hoped would unnerve you.

Alas...

You on the otherhand were buzzing with excitement at the idea of grapling with your fellow Lieutenant. Being so close to him, hearing his little huffs and grunts, getting pinned by him, pinning him. You'd been such a pain in each other's ass during the field that you knew this would also be a mental attempt on both your parts to subjugate the other, but that wasnt what you were excited about... You hadn't spoken since your last argument in the HMMWV on the way back yesterday and the tension was felt fresh as you caught his stare. You and Ghost had never sparred before because you just... didn't have to. Now it seems, for the first time in two years, you were both sizing each other up as you stepped onto the mat one at a time.

It took an hour of getting your ass handed to you before you saw the best opening you could've asked for; you got him on his back in a mount. He'd been steadily losing stamina and now he was moving just a bit too slow to keep you at bay. A surge of elation ran through your chest. You shoved his right arm to the floor and dragged it up as you slipped your right arm around his neck, straightening it out to shift him onto his side. He was too big for just one hand to hold him in place so you planted your left fist next to your right one and shoved your right knee under his head to trap it between your fist and knee. You grabbed your other ankle and wrapped your leg around his neck, leaning forward. "Tap out, Riley." You grunted out between harsh breaths and a wild grin, "Your arms are too big for your own good, you git." You chuckled breathlessly, but secretly hoped he was out of stamina. You knew he was too big for you to keep holding if he tried hard enough to escape.

Ghost's grunts turn into soft huffs after a few seconds and you feel him reluctantly tap your thigh twice. If it wasn't for your pride you would've slumped onto the floor, but instead you relax your muscles and ease your grip on him. He wiggles a little bit before just opting to lay on his back; still under you and wrapped up between your legs. He's watching you, panting and with blown out pupils, as you sit up straight again and look down at him. Oh fuck he looks good... your knees are on either side of his head and he licks his lips as he brings his hands up to rest on the outside of your thighs. There was frustration in his low lidded eyes, but those eyes... Your pussy clenches at the sight and you don't even worry if he can feel it before you're saying, "You look real cute down there, Simon." The hands on your thighs twitch, "It's a real good look..." In the time it takes to blink, you're on your back looking up at Ghost. He says nothing. His face is red as he looms over you, but just as quickly as he flipped you, he's standing up and grumbling about needing a 5 minute break.

You're still laying on your back as you hear the gym door swing open and slam shut.

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

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Hi Eleanor, I have been following your amazing explanations of the UK politics (so good, thank you so much for them) but somewhere in the buffoonery I lost the thread and now I can't tell one evil vizier from another. They all look the same! I can only accurately distinguish Michael Fabricant (for obvious reasons).

All this to ask, how can I tell Liz Truss apart from Nadine Dorries or Rees-Mogg? I know the latter is a man, but I'm after the clown vibes. What is her clown wig, so to speak? Thanks so much!

Apologies this took so long, it's been a busy few weeks, but yes, happy to oblige! Here is:

Elanor's Guide to Liz Truss

Under a cut for length, and it only goes up to her appointment as PM, not everything that's come since. Key points: she u-turns on literally everything, and her one (1) personality trait is maths.

26 July 1975 Liz Truss is born in Oxford to parents she’d later describe as “to the left of Labour”, though is presumably not yet a source of colossal disappointment. She is a bland and underwhelming child whose crowning achievement from this time is that she goes to a comprehensive school.

She will later boast about this.

1996 Truss graduates from Merton College, Oxford with a degree in Politics, Philosophy and Economics. Economics! What a useful thing for a future PM to hold.

While at university, she begins her first foray into a political career! She's president of the Oxford University Liberal Democrats - as a Lib Dem, she supports the legalisation of cannabis and, famously, the abolition of the monarchy. What sound principles to hold dearly and stand by. Good for her! Such integrity. It's good to have convictions. Hope the monarchy thing doesn't come back to bite her.

Slightly later in 1996 Truss produces the first performance of her signature move: U-Turn.

She joins the Tory Party. And starts working for Shell.

1998 Time to get elected! Truss stands in an election for Greenwich London Borough Council. Loses.

2000 Truss leaves Shell, and starts working for Cable & Wireless (the first competitor to BT).

She also gets married this year! There’s lovely. Her husband is even more bland and underwhelming than her, so presumably this made her feel special and important by comparison. Still, true love is heartening. Let's wish them a long and stable marriage.

2001 Hello naughty children, it's General Election time! Truss stands as a Tory in a Labour safe seat. Loses.

2002 Truss stands in an election for Greenwich London Borough Council again. Loses.

2004-2005 Concerned that she is incapable of winning anything, Tory MP Mark Field is appointed by the Tory Party as Truss’s mentor. Field and Truss are both married, but his allure as a sexually aggressive misogynist who grabs female protestors in chokeholds proves too much for Liz and her beige milquetoast husband, so they have an affair anyway.

It doesn't last long because Tories are very bad at hiding affairs, but Liz's husband lacks the interest to kick her out. Instead she introduces him to her fun new kink of being a collared sub and he duly obeys. From this point onwards, she literally wears a day collar necklace at all times.

This fact possibly explains the penchant for u-turns and general lack of spine. Subs should not be PMs.

2005 Truss leaves Cable & Wireless. It is unclear if they notice her leaving.

5 May 2005 General Election! Truss stands in a marginal seat (that is, not a safe seat for any party), thus giving her the best chance of winning. Loses.

April 2006

With David Cameron as the new Tory leader (several years away from the 2015 pig-fucking scandal), a committee sets out to deliver his promise to transform the party. They create an “A list” of between 100 and 150 parliamentary candidates to prioritise in winnable seats. In a bid to make the Tory party look more diverse and less like a Dulux Shades of White catalogue, many are POC and more than half of these are women – and one of these is Liz Truss.

This is probably just as well. Currently, her glittering political career consists of four failed elections, zero principles and a grubby sex scandal. You can only get away with the latter two once you've been elected, after all.

4 May 2006 Truss stands in an election for Greenwich London Borough Council again, now with the backing of the party's top brass to campaign for her. Wins!

January 2008 Having lost her first four elections, Truss is promptly given Responsibility and becomes deputy director of Reform. Reform’s a think tank – a research institute that performs research and advocacy on public policy. With Reform, Truss produced several major reports, advocating for:

more rigorous academic standards in schools because she loves maths;

a greater focus on tackling serious and organised crime;

urgent action to deal with Britain's falling competitiveness.

October 2009 Liz Truss easily wins a vote of the Conservative Association to represent the party for South West Norfolk at the next General Election. Huzzah! Gosh, it's so easy to win elections when David Cameron gives them to you.

Drama though! Some members of the association are against this, because Truss failed to disclose her affair with Mark Field. This is very funny, because every Tory MP is an adulterer. Mind, Mark Field is proper gross, so it is an unusually terrible indication of personal taste.

They vote on this issue – 132 support Truss, versus 37 against. Success! Gosh, it's so easy to win elections when David Cameron gives them to you.

6 April 2010 General Election announced. A scheduled one! So exciting for the British public.

6 May 2010 Truss chooses not to seek re-election to Greenwich London Borough Council, because she’s an MP now and is above such petty concerns. She works hard, specifically for:

retention of an RAF base in her constituency;

transforming a chunk of A11 into a dual carriageway;

shouting down a proposal to sell off forests;

preventing a waste incinerator being built at King’s Lynn.

October 2011 Truss remembers that part of her degree is in Economics, which means she knows about money and maffs. She founds the Free Enterprise Group with the support of over 40 other Tory MPs. Gosh! She's so popular! Her goal is to challenge the idea that Britain's economic decline is inevitable, by trying to develop an entrepreneurial and meritocratic culture.

(Loosely translated this means she loves free markets and hates employment laws.)

4 September 2012

Truss becomes Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State at the Department for Education.

Now at this point, education is a huge thing for her. She wants to make maths compulsory for everyone in full-time education, rather than just to GCSE. She believes comprehensive schools encourage easy, low-value subjects to boost results (noting that comp pupils were six times as likely to take media studies as private school kids), whereas private schools never do anything to artificially boost results to please fee-paying parents.

To prove her point she goes on telly, gets asked a maths question by a news reader, barely manages to answer it, and then refuses to take any more maths questions.

13 September 2012 Truss’s Free Enterprise Group publishes a book. Hooray! Let's see what it has to say.

Here’s a quote: "Once they enter the workplace, the British are among the worst idlers in the world. We work among the lowest hours, we retire early and our productivity is poor."

Yuck. Gross. How unpopular.

Truss claims that that bit was written by Dominic Raab, later Deputy PM to Boris Johnson. Raab counter-claims that the authors take “collective responsibility” for everything in the book.

January 2013 Truss is named Road Safety Parliamentarian of the Month by road safety charity Brake, for campaigning for design improvements to road junctions in her constituency and presumably for Doing Good Looking when she crosses roads.

Truss also outlines plans to reform childcare in England, to widen the availability of childcare and increase staff pay and qualifications. Interestingly, charities and businesses really like these reforms – Labour and trade unions do not. I wonder why?

The least popular aspect of this is to allow each carer to be 'allowed more children'. This aspect is blocked by the bold and heroic Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg.

February 2014 Truss leads a fact-finding mission to Shanghai to find out how they achieve the best maths results in the world for their children. She is certain it's probably something to do with comprehensive schools.

15 July 2014 Cabinet reshuffle! Truss appointed Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs. Unlike her predecessor, Truss declares that she fully believes in climate change! Huzzah! What a step up. Thank goodness we now have someone with principles who will stand by their convictions.

(She is mysteriously silent on her past employment with Shell.)

November 2014 Truss launches a 10-year strategy to try to reverse falling bee populations, including by reviving traditional meadows. Double huzzah! Thank goodness she loves bees.

July 2015 Truss approves the temporary lifting of an EU ban on two bee-toxic neonicotinoid pesticides, enabling their use on about 5% of England's oil seed rape crop to ward off the cabbage stem flea beetle. These pesticides were shown in 2012 to harm bees by damaging their ability to navigate home, and are a leading theorised cause of colony collapse disease. Fuck the bees I guess.

Truss also cuts taxpayer subsidies for solar panels on agricultural land. Fuck the environment I guess.

Classic Liz.

24 June 2016 HELLO NAUGHTY CHILDREN IT'S BREXIT TIME

And Liz Truss is pro-Remain:

“I don't want my daughters to grow up in a world where they need a visa or permit to work in Europe, or where they are hampered from growing a business because of extortionate call costs and barriers to trade. Every parent wants their children to grow up in a healthy environment with clean water, fresh air and thriving natural wonders. Being part of the EU helps protect these precious resources and spaces.”

A year later, she’ll say, “I believed there would be massive economic problems but those haven't come to pass and I've also seen the opportunities.”

She is mysteriously silent on what those opportunities actually are.

14 July 2016 Theresa May’s Prime Minister now, and Truss is appointed:

Secretary of State for Justice; and

Lord Chancellor.

She’s the first woman to hold either position, even though the Lord Chancellor office has existed for a thousand years. Gosh! So illustrious! So that must be a popular choice.

Minister of State for Justice Lord Faulks immediately resigns from the government in disgust at Truss’s justice role.

He doesn’t think Truss will have the clout to stand up to the PM on behalf of the judges, because she's a whimpering sub wearing her collar to work. Truss says Faulks didn’t contact her before going public with his criticism, and that she’s literally never met or spoken to him, and she's very hurt because he's very mean, and she's excellent at defending judges who rule against the government, you'll all see.

November 2016 Truss is criticised by former Attorney General Dominic Grieve and the Criminal Bar Association for being a bit shit at defending judges who ruled against the government.

Former Lord Chancellor Lord Falconer says (and I’m paraphrasing here) that she IS shit, that's true, but for balance let's all remember that her predecessors Chris Grayling and Michael Gove were ALSO shit.

He calls on Truss to be sacked. This call is ignored.

To establish that she is Good At Justice and make daddy call her a good girl, Truss announces a £1.3 billion investment programme in the prison service and the recruitment of 2,500 additional prison officers! Huzzah! This sounds good!

Unfortunately the Tory coalition government had already actually cut considerably more than that, so this is actually still a cut overall.

11 June 2017 Following the general election, Truss becomes Chief Secretary to the Treasury, a move widely seen as a demotion for being Shit At Justice (daddy did not think she was a good girl). Still, she has an economics degree (sort of)! And loves maths! What an ideal position. How does she get on?

Civil servants describe her tenure as “exhausting” because of her punishing work schedule and her obsession with posing maths questions to officials at random.

CRINGE ALERT: Truss really gets into Twitter and Instagram. Uh oh.

June 2018 Truss gives a speech about the importance of libertarianism and low taxes. Hope that doesn't come back to bite her.

2019 Truss declares that she could replace Theresa May as leader.

In her defence, anyone COULD replace Theresa May as leader. What a horrible woman. What an awful Prime Minister. God, at least it can't get any worse, right?

Right?

In the end, Liz doesn’t stand, however. Instead, she chooses to endorse Boris Johnson.

24 July 2019 She advises Johnson on economic policy during his leadership campaign because she has an Economics degree (sort of) and likes maths, but weirdly isn’t given a finance role once he becomes Prime Minister. How strange. Perhaps he does not know that she likes maths? Perhaps she was too subtle?

She’s instead promoted to Secretary of State for International Trade and President of the Board of Trade. That's okay though. You have to do sums to trade with money, she'll probably be good at that.

10 September 2019 Amber Rudd resigns as Minister for Women and Equalities. Truss gets that job on top of her own, because nothing says Women's Equality like piling extra jobs onto a woman. I hope this workload doesn't affect her job with Trade.

Days later, Truss “inadvertently” (her words) allows unlawful arms sales to Saudi Arabia, an accident any of us could make I'm sure. She apologises to a Commons committee. Opposition MPs reckon she should resign, what with having dramatically broken the law and all. Oddly, this does not happen. Does Boris Johnson not care about the law? :(

Still, I'm sure she's learned her lesson about being careful with arms exports to Saudi Arabia.

7 July 2020 Truss lifts a year-long ban on exporting arms and military equipment to Saudi Arabia. She says (I’m paraphrasing) “I just reckon it’ll probably be fine.”

August 2020

Truss holds meetings with the Institute of Economic Affairs. These meetings are later removed from the public record, re-categorised as "personal discussions". Which all seems nice and normal and not at all suspicious and also totally a thing we're all comfortable with Tory Trade Ministers with histories of exporting arms to Saudi Arabia doing.

September 2020 Truss settles a trade agreement between the UK and Japan. On the one hand, this is legit the first major trade deal signed by the UK after Brexit, so that’s a big deal! Yay! A triumph for maths!

On the other hand, most of it’s copied and pasted from the existing EU deal with Japan, which almost makes you wonder what was the fucking point.

In any case, Truss follows suit with Australia, New Zealand, Norway, Iceland and Liechtenstein. She is very good at keyboard shortcuts.

December 2020 Truss finds time among all her copying and pasting and sums to give a speech on equality policy, which is good, given that she's also an Equalities Minister. She reckons the UK focuses too heavily on "fashionable" race, sexuality, and gender issues. She reveals the government and civil service will no longer be receiving unconscious bias training. Thank goodness she fucking bothered.

15 September 2021 Cabinet reshuffle! Johnson promotes Truss to Secretary of State for Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Affairs after she's nice about his tie.

3 October 2021 Tory conference, and Truss harps on about identity politics and cancel culture and does some transphobic dog-whistling. I’m not passing on the quotes.

Truss supported gay marriage, and has never voted against LGBTQ+ rights in specific votes, but she HAS moved to limit trans rights. She’s against gender self-ID. When accused of transphobia, she stresses how much she loves queer people because she supported gay marriage. When pressed on the trans issue, she (I'm paraphrasing) shares the "I can't see that I'm blind" meme and leaves.

November 2021 Truss and her Israeli counterpart Yair Lapid announce a new deal aimed at stopping Iran from developing nuclear weapons.

December 2021 Lord Frost resigns as the British Government's chief negotiator with the EU. Truss replaces him. A big deal! International diplomacy! Good job no major international diplomatic incidents requiring experienced diplomats are coming up!

Truss meets her Russian counterpart Sergey Lavrov in Stockholm, and urges Russia to seek peace in Ukraine.

27 January 2022 An unknown journalist for the Mirror, Pippa Crerar, reveals that the Tories held a Christmas party when everyone else was in lockdown. Uh oh. Hope that doesn't get out of hand. Best behaviour, everyone.

Truss goes to Australia. Instead of taking a normal plane, she uses £500,000 of public money on a private jet.

Former Australian Prime Minister Paul Keating, who’s involved with the China Development Bank, accuses Truss of making "demented" comments about Chinese military aggression in the Pacific. He says, “Britain suffers delusions of grandeur and relevance deprivation.”

The diplomacy is Going Well.

30 January 2022 Truss claims that "we are supplying and offering extra support into our Baltic allies across the Black Sea, as well as supplying the Ukrainians with defensive weapons."

Russian diplomat Maria Zakharova makes fun of her on Facebook, because the Baltic states are located around the Baltic Sea and not the Black Sea, which is 700 miles away.

The diplomacy is Going Well.

31 January 2022 Truss tests positive for covid. She cancels her trip to Ukraine.

6 February 2022 China backs Argentina’s claim over the Falkland Islands. Truss claims that "China must respect the Falklands' sovereignty … [as] part of the British family".

The diplomacy is Going Well.

10 February 2022 Truss again meets Lavrov, in the context of a build-up of Russian troops near the Russia–Ukraine border. Lavrov describes the discussion as "turning out like the conversation of a mute and a deaf person".

He asks Truss if she recognises Russia's sovereignty over the two Russian provinces containing troops. Truss mistakenly assumes these must be areas of Ukraine, and replies that "the UK will never recognise Russian sovereignty over these regions."

THE DIPLOMACY IS GOING WELL.

27 February 2022 Three days after Russian's invasion of Ukraine, Truss is asked in an interview whether she’d support British volunteers joining the newly formed International Legion of Territorial Defense of Ukraine.

She replies: "Absolutely, if that is what they want to do."

Which is admirable, I guess, but, um … would be a criminal offence, according to the Foreign Enlistment Act 1870.

The Russian military are placed on high nuclear alert, and Russian officials say this is in response to Truss's comments! But they might be lying about that I suppose.

10 July 2022

That Christmas party got out of hand.

Truss says she’ll run in the Conservative Party leadership election to replace Boris Johnson. She pledges to cut taxes on day one if elected, and that she would take "immediate action to help people deal with the cost of living". Thank goodness she has principles and understands the cost of living crisis.

16 July 2022 Liz Truss is one of 7 MPs revealed to have put Amazon Prime on their expenses.

20 July 2022 Truss and Rishi Sunak are chosen by Conservative Party MPs to be put forward to the membership for the final vote. Truss finishes second in the final MPs ballot, 113 votes to Sunak's 137.

25 July 2022 In a BBC debate, Truss claims she’s going to be big on environmental issues.

And then reveals she plans to scrap a lot of environmental legislation to help businesses.

11 August 2022 Format change! Let’s watch the days tick by through the lens of news headlines.

BBC headline: Liz Truss defends energy firms saying profit is not evil (14 August 2022)

Guardian headline: Liz Truss’s economic plan is ruinous nonsense with no reference to reality (27 August 2022)

Mirror headline: 'Greedy' Liz Truss has claimed nearly £5k in expenses for energy in last 5 years (2 September 2022)

Open Democracy headline: Fears over cost of living ‘solutions’ proposed by Truss-backed think tanks: MP says Truss would be a ‘puppet’ for right-wing groups that have already generated a dozen of her policies (3 September 2022)

Times headline: Truss eyes bonfire of workers’ rights to boost economy

Polls show that the more Tory voters see Liz Truss, the less they like her.

Unfortunate.

5 September 2022

Liz Truss gives an interview with Tory client journalist Laura Kuenssberg. Following the interview, comedian Joe Lycett, who was literally one of the planned guests and whose job is to be a satirist, claims to love Liz Truss, and effusively praises the interview. Even Truss realises that nobody would say these words in earnest.

A BBC insider says: “Team Truss was incandescent afterwards. She agreed to give a significant interview after blowing out Nick Robinson.”

Presumably she did not understand what the role of a satirist in a political interview is.

That said, in the membership vote, 57.4% of voting Party members selected Truss, making her the new leader. Of all leaders chosen in the 21st century, Truss managed the lowest support of MPs at final ballot, and of membership.

Independent headline: Liz Truss’s energy plans will be disastrous for our bills and the planet - Truss will oversee the greatest transfer of wealth in history, from UK families to oil and gas executives she used to work for

Polling data suggests that the Conservatives have fallen 4.5 points in the polls in light of Truss’s leadership, while Keir Starmer’s Labour has jumped up 3 points. Yikes! Hope that doesn't get worse.

Current polling would translate to only 147 Tory seats, compared with 414 Labour seats. For context, Tony Blair’s infamous 1997 landslide victory won 418 seats for Labour (and 178 seats for the Tories).

6 September 2022 Liz Truss is appointed Prime Minister.

Immediately, UK currency plummets. And she hasn't even announced her new mini-budget yet.

Hope that doesn't get worse!

#politik #asks

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siriusleee · 1 year

Text

pamphlets

summary:

You can feel it: his rage right beneath the surface of that Statue of David façade he wears so well. You're not sure if it's the exhaustion or the blasé way he was sitting on your couch when you walked in, but you want to pull at his threads - unravel them the way he unravels you.

"Was it mine?"

tw: child-loss, miscarriage ghost x reader request a fic here

"Dinner's in the kitchen."

He doesn't greet you as you step into your apartment; the four walls are barely enough to contain the two of you. You're exhausted in the way you've never been before, the excitement of him being in your home barely enough to keep you from diving straight into bed. He shifts on the couch as you sit down beside him, eyes never leaving the television.

You haven't seen him in three months; for the first time since he'd started gracing your presence when he was home you'd gotten a field call from him - a quick midnight call just long enough for one "'m alright" before you were joined by static from the other line.

You can feel him staring at you from the corner of his eye, a move so uniquely Simon that it used to unnerve you.

"Your toes are painted."

It's a question disguised as a statement. Who were you out with?

"They are."

You can feel it: the two of you balancing on some precipice. You lean away from him, feet propped up on the coffee table, head against the back of the couch. You feel him shift, the cushions underneath you shifting; something soft lands on your lap. You know by the weight of it what it is. You refuse to look at him, refuse to open your eyes to see the way his are boring holes into yours.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I need to tell you?"

"Was it mine?"

"Why does it matter?"

Your couch groans under his weight; you know that he's drawn up to his full height without having to look at him. Finally you open your eyes, the folder from the hospital lies on your lap. The only sheet of paper you had ever taken out of it after you discharge is folded up on the top of it: How To Deal With Loss: Resources for Parents.

"What do you mean: why does it matter?" Simon's voice grows, fills the small apartment. For the first time, you feel a shred of shame for not saying anything to him. You'd hoped that he'd give you a heads up the next time he decided to swing by, enough time to hide the folder in your dresser. You know the argument is coming - you can see it in the way he's standing, you can hear it in the way his accent grows thicker. You push yourself into a standing position opposite of him, the folder dropping to the floor and spilling its contents. You don't want to fight with him, but you will.

"Yes, Simon. Why does it matter?"

For the first time you make eye contact with him; not for the first time are you struck still by him. His collar hangs loose, stretched out - there's just a peek of black tattoo from his shoulder. You can't see his expression - can't try to steel yourself or prepare for what he's going to throw at you, what vitriol is about to spill from him.

"It matters if it was mine."

You want to collapse, want to stomp your foot on the ground at his statement. Of course it was yours! You want to scream it at him, hurl the words at him until they wear him down, but when you speak it's in barely a whisper - just enough voice to carry over the television.

"It wouldn't have been anyone else's."

The dam breaks then; his shoulders drop a quarter of an inch and he's yelling, and you're yelling - you know your neighbors are going to hear, but you don't care.

"What was I supposed to tell you Simon? That you fucked me without a condom and I got pregnant?"

"Yes!"

His hands are gripping the arm of your couch, the fabric pulled taunt beneath them. You don't think, just yell.

"How? I see you a handful of times throughout the year-"

"You have a number to call me-"

"- I lost it before I would have even got a chance to tell you-"

"- it's like you don't even care!"

You can't speak, no way to verbalize the words inside of you. So you leave him in the living room as you disappear into your bedroom before emerging with a small battered cardboard box. You shove it into Simon's chest, with the most force you can muster up.

"Open it up." Your voice is wild, a monsoon hidden just beneath. You shove it again into Simon's chest, forcing him to take it from you.

"Open it."

His hands are steady, years of work with the military hardening him. He stares into the box before dropping back onto the couch, cradling the box to his chest.

"What is this?"

You don't move from your spot - you don't want to see inside the box; you haven't looked at it since you shoved it into the back of your closet.

Simon reaches into the box, hands pulling out a small black onesie, a white skull on the front. His hands shake almost imperceptibly as he drops it gently back into the box.

"The doctor said-" your voice cracks, you turn away from Simon - your eyes fixed on the wall - before starting to speak again. "The doctor said it's not that uncommon when you're as early along as I was. I didn't…I didn't say anything to you because I didn't want to be a burden to you out in the field."

"You wouldn't be-"

You don't let him speak, you don't want to hear it, don't want to hear any sincerity.

"I'm not your wife Si. I'm not even your girlfriend. I didn't even know what I would have said. God forbid you'd been doing something dangerous, and I called you to tell you what happened and distracted you."

You hear the box get sat down on the table, and in a moment his hands are on your shoulders, gently pressing until you turn around. He keeps you at arms length, his palms warm through your shirt.

"We could have got married - fuck - we can get married tomorrow. We can be there as soon as the courthouse opens, Johnny'll witness for us.."

You try to shrug him off, but his hands are firm on your shoulders.

"You're only saying that Si."

"I'm not."

You can tell that he's telling the truth - if you told him to meet you at the courthouse tomorrow, he'd be there. His calloused fingers trace across your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist, forehead resting on your chest. Your arms reach up instinctively to wrap around him, burying your face in the hood of his jacket.

The two of you linger there, hands tangled in each other before collapsing onto the couch, your face buried in Simon's chest. From the corner of your eye, you can see Simon's hands outstretched towards the box once before pulling away.

#my fics #ghost cod x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod x reader #ghost cod

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writing-in-sin · 10 months

Text

KaiShin scene fic idea: Kyoto arc

I dunno if it'll just be a part of a fic or a fic itself based on the idea of Kaito being there in Kyoto too simply to keep his reckless Tantei-kun safe but I just want Kaito to be there in Kyoto

Shinichi doesn't want to admit it, but he's happy and excited to have KID around not unlike when he mistakenly thought Vermouth was Kaito

It could be a willing favour he takes up when Haibara and Hakase told him about the school field trip (in this fic idea, they've come to a truce after the Bell Tree Express). While they dont know his identity yet, they do know Kaito hangs out at Blue Parrot since Jii is a friend of Hakase's

Anyways, since I headcanon that Kaito is a year older than Shinichi, Shinichi has a habit of calling Kaito 'senpai' or 'Kai' in private moments. While he has all the clues for KID's identity, Shinichi keeps it to himself as a sign of trust until KID himself does the reveal

Which Kaito does when he waits by his motorcycle at the hotel's entrance, phone in hand

---------

"Hello?" Shinichi answers, standing with the rest of his class as they wait for their teacher's instruction and feeling a little confused at the unknown number

A familiar voice chuckles, dark and smooth with dangerous mischief. "A little Ojou-chan told me that you're doin' something reckless without me. Which, unfair, so I'd thought of joining you."

"...hah?"

"What's wrong, Shinichi?" Ran asks

But Shinichi can't hear anything besides the thumping of his heart, anticipation and excitement coursing through him. "Are you--?"

"Look up, Tantei-kun."

And he does, eyes finding KID on instinct across from him and without realizing it, a beaming smile blooms across his face not unlike the sunflowers KID likes to give him

"Senpai!" a breathy laugh tumbles out, disbelief and excitement mixing as Shinichi jogs up to KID

KID pushes away from his bike, wearing his preferred style of clothing that he rarely wears around Ekoda to avoid questions about his more powerful physique because of his life as a phantom thief

Noting this, Shinichi takes in KID under the sunlight for the first time. The pitch black hair. The gold eyes that darkens into indigo-violet when they reach his pupils. The blue jeans and black leather jacket over a white v-neck that hides absolutely nothing of the powerful body underneath

But its the familiar roguish grin on a dangerously handsome face, the dark glint dancing in those summer night eyes that will always gives KID away

Shinichi reaches out, hand on cool leather above a beating heart and chuckles when it doesn't fade away into an illusion. "You're here. Under the sunlight."

"Thought it was about time that Kuroba Kaito gets to spend time with you too, Tantei-kun." Kaito smiles, soft and private when shocked blue eyes snap up at him as he tucks a sunflower behind Shinichi's ear. "Not like you didn't already know who I am though, hm, Meitantei?"

Shinichi blinks before returning the smile and lightly punches a sturdy shoulder. "Wanted you to tell me when you were ready, barou."

Kaito snickers

They break apart when a teacher calls out. "Would you be Kuroba-kun by any chance? The volunteer for the tour?"

"That's me." Giving a showman's bow, Kaito smiles with cool politeness and offers a rose to the woman. "At your service."

Amused at the flustered teacher, Shinichi raises a brow at the magician. "Volunteer?"

"I spend a lot of my time here because of a family friend." Kaito grins, sneaking an arm around Shinichi's waist to pull the detective close. His grin widens when Shinichi merely rolls his eyes before settling into his side, used to his antics by now. "So who better than me to offer a tour for this ancient capital?"

Shinichi huffs. "A local?"

"Ah, but knowing me, does that answer still stand?"

Knowing by now that KI- Kaito can most likely impersonate a local from decades past, Shinichi shakes his head. "Fine, fine."

They share a laugh, making their way to where the rest of Teitan are

-----

That's all I've got for now. If you've read this up until the end, thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it

#kaishin #dcmk #kuroba kaito #magic kaito #kaito kuroba #kaitou kid #kaitou 1412 #Kudou Shinichi #shinichi kudou #kudo shinichi #shinichi kudo #kaito x shinichi #kaishin fic ideas #kaishin drabbles #detective conan #meitantei conan #case closed

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mushroomb0i · 4 months

Text

A thing about D.G. Project SC5 Twitter posted today

I don't know Japanese well and also wasn't able to recongnize some of the kanjis and also couldn't make out the highlights in the photo. All the highlights that I couldn't make out are written as "XXX"

Some of this stuff was said in an old blog on the Space Channel 5 website and can be seen with the web archive, but there is new information here as well

Also I still don't know how to do text formatting

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

1998/3/20

DG Team　Yoshinaga Takumi

☆ Main female character

XXX　【F・22】

Public figure.

A rookie. She is a strong and energetic Channel 5 reporter (female journalist) with a great sense of style.

She is in "Normal Reporter Mode" for normal incidents, and transforms into "Super Reporter Mode" during emergencies to give a "groovy report" while being active and steaming herself.

When in "super" mode, she wears a headphone XXX to maintain tension, and hides her body by listening to music sent from Channel 5. Tension Blaster products equipped in both hands.

The tension baster she emits is also amazingly thick and XXX.

She was saved from the incident 10 years ago, and she is inspired by XXX (though she didn't know what it was) to become successful. She is secretly hoping to be like that person someday.

Jaguar 　【M・35】

Currently under contract with XXX Channel 69 XXX.

Formerly Channel 5, he was disposed of 10 years ago for shady XXX activities. Since then, there has been a constant black noise. There are rumors that there might actually be someone else.

He is a leading expert in the field of "XXX reporting" and is known for his highly detailed and accurate reports.

He has no mercy for anything that gets in the way of truth reporting.

XXX very quiet and unfriendly.

XXX human but with blue colored clothes.

He's kinda cool.

Blank 　【M・ 44】

One of Channel 5's executives. Increasing ratings is his only satisfaction, and is willing to do anything for their sake. He is a man who is willing to do anything for ratings, and he is the one behind the "incident" 10 years ago drama with Jaguar.

This time, he is trying to create a spectacular fake show using aliens he met by chance when he was linked with them in outer space.

He is ambitious and aspiring.

Gigigigi 　【・?】

A visitor from outer space who works with Blank and goes wild.

He seems to be a simple man, but in fact, he is a filmmaker from his planet, and his purpose is to film a huge sensational film ("How will the people of this Galaxy die out?" (Tentative title))

He is collecting light energy to generate enough negative energy to obliterate the galaxy (he intends to make the resulting collapse drama the climax of the film).

Mimimimi 　【・?】

East visitor from outer space.

He seems to be a simple action captain, but in fact, he is a cult star of their planet.

He is the main character of a big, huge, and mysterious story that belongs to Gigigigi.

He looks like Mitsuhiro Oikawa.

He is the comic relief in the game.

XXX 　【F・ 58】

She is the president of Space Pirate Channel 69 and the everybody's boss.

(Her husband used to be the boss, but after his death, she took over.)

She always wears an elegant outfit that doesn't look like a space pirate.

She also uses a long-handled pipe.

She is very protective of her friend "windmen" (a space pirate).

She is a bit like Doronjo, except older and more relaxed.

Space Pirates

Space Pirates who mess with the space broadcasting. They broadcast in a partisan manner from all over the galaxy.

They are a bunch of free spirits who are relatively springy and open-minded.

Although they do some "pirate" activities at first, they are basically a family of righteous people.

Reverseman 　【M・ 32】

Formerly Channel 69's signature reporter, currently a backup, he was injured in an incident 10 years ago and can't call Jaguar, who was (allegedly) responsible for the incident, a friend.

Blast 　【M・35】

Sound Operator. Huge performance. Except for emergencies, he plays loud music on his old-fashioned boom box (?). Knows a lot.

Wave 1st　【M・19】

Camera operator. Older twin brother. Talks fast.

Wave 2nd　【M・19】

Multi-engineer. Younger twin brother. Talks fast.

(I wasn’t sure how to write their names but since after the number there was go (号) i think this way is closer to the original)

Howling　【F・ 24】

Helmsman of the Space Pirate Broadcasting Vessel. Domi's real daughter.

XXX 　【M・60】

Channel 5's bird-chief.

Although he is like Blank in that he's a ratings supremacist, he has a strong social rationale.

He has high expectations for the protagonists' special reporting team.

Noize 　【M・15】

Channel 5's prodigy boy operator.

He backs up the main character from the space relay Astrobeat.

He also customizes the supplied camera and repairs and adjusts various items (as a hobby).

He is a toy-enjoyer and an ironist.

He and Channel 69's Wave 1 & 2 were classmates in school (although they are much different in age because of the Noize's leapfrogging). They are not close friends at all, but he recognizes their abilities.

Fuse 　【M・ 40】

Channel 5's sharp director.

Boss of the main character. He used to work with Jaguar.

He is suspicious of Blank's activities and is conducting his own investigation.

As his name suggests, he is scary when he loses his temper.

He always drinks coffee (or its equivalent).

Gunya 　【Unclear・ ?】("Gunya" is like an sfx of sudden realization or smth like that)

Reporter for Channel 88.

Whole body is something like an agar-agar state. Tall. Can transform the body to some extent.

Tachibana 　【M・ ?】

Channel 1

Beast-shaped, large in stature, but very sensitive in soul. A man of common sense and motion, he is also an NHK (The Japan Broadcasting Corporation) announcer. A veteran.

#space channel 5 #sc5 #should i be sorry #i don't know #whatever #if u have comments or questions regardingt the text please let me know i have no idea what i'm doing

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hell-drabbles · 6 months

Note

Now you got me curious about your angel oc (⁠✯⁠ᴗ⁠✯⁠)

Can you share more about him/them if possible ?(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Also I'm new here! 🪽Anon

Welcome! I'm still here, I just have real low mental energy.

Little warning, he's a bit of an extreme OC.

Heheheh the big dude's name is Raqiel and while this dude has a ton of muscle to him, he's not really a fighter anymore so much as he is a teacher. Well, was a teacher. His role in life was to basically take in a bunch of angels and both awaken and refine their blood lust towards devils in this church in a nice and open field.

However, one thing to know about Raqiel is that he only acknowledges God as his creator, as a parent, of sorts. Meaning, Raqiel does not pray nor worship God in the same way everyone else does. So, when God up and vanished one day, Raqiel didn't feel strongly towards that.

Now this brings up the question why Raqiel would bother teaching angels about the ways of killing and hurting. The answer to that?

Raqiel is a major masochist. The body of his is scarred to hell and back and he physically built himself up so he can take any and all pain. Like, he really likes being humiliated and having his ass beaten. The final test of many angels before they're assigned to a squadron is to hurt Raqiel is whatever ways possible.

Yeah, jacked up as he may be, he's kinda gross in a way that I like.

Now, Raqiel has taught many an angel in the many years he's been existing, to the point where he was actually a pretty well respected figure. As such, when it was found out that Raqiel didn't hold that same fanatical love towards God like every angel he's ever taught, they betrayed him, justifying to themselves that Heaven has no place for someone such as him.

So, they broke the joints in his wings, chipped his halo and dragged him to Hell to be used as bait for the devils. Though, before leaving him there, the angels that took him there wanted to get one last beat up in, and that's when the dear Reader finds him: beaten bloody and bruised, covered in his own cum and tears and utterly fucked up mentally and physically. It was one of those events where Raqiel has both experienced the worst and best orgasm of his life and that's going to mess with him.

It, uh, it's real hard not to take pity on him. The Reader witnessed him at his absolute lowest, so they couldn't help but take the chance to help him out. Was it a stupid decision? Certainly felt like it at the time. Of course, one can't exactly hide an angel of his size, nor would it really go over that well when the Reader is determined to help Raqiel out, so as a compromise, he was given bondage chains and a nice dog collar since the devils are convinced the Reader wants him as a pet.

And, because the devils were pushing for the Reader to give him a nickname for his new dog tag, Reader decided on the nickname, Lucky, derived from the 'Raqi' in his name. It's not really that deep of a nickname, but for Raqiel, fireworks were going off in his head.

From then on, Raqiel has decided that the Reader will be his God, that they will be the one he prays and worships to. His home throughly abandoned him without hesitation, and, as such, Raqiel will serve and protect you with all his being. He'll even fight against his once brethren if need be, even if he can't fly anymore.

Besides, what's more humiliating then being under the beck and call of a human hated by his kind and loved by the devils?

Of course, there will be various angels that will want him to come back, but anytime any angel manages to isolate him and talk to him, Raqiel will always say no. He wants to stay here.

Oh and here's how he looks like in my brain. He wears a typical priest outfit, and his earrings are actually bells rather than crosses. He can't retract his wings, so they're usually pretty limp and dragging behind him.

#admin #whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad #oc #oc.raqiel

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bandaged-writer · 2 years

Text

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧.

↠ pairing. dazai x reader

↠ genre. angst, heartbreak, happy ending

↠ warnings. not proof-read

↠ words. 1k

↠ summary. you knew that if you turned around, you would never be able to let dazai go and let him have the life he deserved

↠ notes. it's been actual years since i've posted anything on this account and the first thing i write at 7 am gotta be angst 👩🏻‍🦯 anyways, i hope you enjoy this little something i whipped up on a whim ✨

When the lights illuminating Yokohama were exceptionally pretty, in a spot that only you and Dazai knew, the birds were still chirping underneath the setting sun. The sky, dipped in hues so blue that it rivalled the sadness within the man's heart, hung above you like some sort of omen.

"You called me out here to say goodbye, didn't you?" Breaking the silence first, you gave Dazai a smile. One that he admitted to adore when he thought you were sound asleep in his bed.

"How did you know?" Dazai asked, a rare, surprised glimmer in those eyes that always seemed so void of any life left.

You chuckled, it lacked any humor. "I have heard of Odasaku's passing, Osamu. Rumor had it that a mafia executive went after him and never came back. I had a hunch it was you."

Dazai let a half-smile grace his features. Attentive as always, although your head seemed to be up in the clouds, believing in everything that was deemed good, but refusing to judge him who had done everything that was deemed evil.

Before Dazai could speak another word, you beat him to it. "You wish to leave, don't you?"

Not the brightest tool in the shed, they liked to call you. But you had managed to figure Dazai out, an endless puzzle of complex thoughts and an inexplicable desire for death that ran as deep as the ocean. Despite that, you willingly drowned in his sea.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" Dazai came to a stop in the middle of a field of grass, trees and dandelion seeds as he took in your appearance.

Your eyes got glassy underneath the last sunrays and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink and for once, Dazai understood a feeling he had never quite felt before until he lost Odasaku and stood in front of you.

The fear of losing those he loved.

He always said that the things worth wanting were always lost the moment he obtained them, yet he feared this moment, because this was the end of the one good thing he managed to obtain.

Dazai remembered the day he met you for the very first time at Lupin by Odasaku's side. The only person left of a small-scale group, Oda had said while you were shoving a piece of strawberry cake down your throat. Oh, how horribly you had cried and how hilarious you looked with whipped cream stuck to the corner of your lips.

Back then, Dazai hadn't thought much of you. You were merely another person with another tragedy upon their shoulders. Too innocent, too soft for the mafia. Not even one good quality did you possess that could qualify you to be part of the Port Mafia.

Each time Dazai had seen you again, you'd prove him wrong and his interest in you was the demise of the heart he had buried six feet under.

"It's okay if you wish to leave. I won't stop you," you said and cupped Dazai's cheeks. His skin was warmer than usual, you silently noted.

"I will never see you again once we turn our backs on each other. Are you sure?" He leaned into your touch, his hand resting atop yours.

"Of course!" Now, the tears were rolling down your cheeks and you cussed underneath your breath. "Ah, you shouldn't see me cry. You have to remember my smiling face!" Hurriedly, you wiped the tears from your face and forced a smile upon your lips. "Girls look prettier when they smile, after all."

Dazai couldn't help the light-hearted laugh slipping his lips or his hands that dried your tears. "Belladonna, how could I ever forget your smile?"

The last sniffles left you. "Promise?"

"..I promise."

And when dandelion seeds got stuck in Dazai's hair while he was wearing a smile so gentle, you knew it was the right decision to let him go. Whatever plan he had up his sleeve, you knew it was better than being stuck in this hell disguised as the mafia.

Yes, he'd be well.

Even if it was without you, this was all you had ever wanted for the man you had terribly fallen in love with.

He'd be well.

Standing on your tippy toes, fingers grasping the soft fabric of his blazer, you pressed a kiss to Dazai's cheek. Your breath fanned across his skin as you spoke in soft, broken tones. "Take care, Osamu."

A heart heavy as lead beat within your chest as you turned your back to Dazai and walked away. Each step was more painful than the previous, each step tore that heart within you apart, but you couldn't bear to see the face Dazai was making.

You knew that if you turned around, you would never be able to let Dazai go and let him have the life he deserved.

It wasn't until five years later that Kunikida pulled Dazai back to the Agency after his hell of a partner nearly buried himself on a client's farm. Kunikda was certain that he would die of a heart attack caused by none other than the bandage-wasting machine that went by the name of Dazai Osamu.

"If you wanna bury yourself, do it in your free time! Because of you, our next client has been waiting 5 minutes and 35 seconds longer than scheduled!," Kunikida scolded his colleague, dragging him up the stairs by the collar like a sack of potatoes.

Dazai whined. "You sure love your schedules, huh?"

When Kunikida ripped the door open and the light coming from within the Agency briefly blinded Dazai, he could hear chatter and laughter coming from within. One voice belonged to Yosano, another one to Tanizaki and the other one to someone who he had silently cherished like a prayer in his heart.

"Oh! There they are." Yosano said.

After years of vowing to yourself to not turn back, you finally did. Not a hint of regret lingered in your eyes when you saw Dazai again and smiled at him like you always did when he used to cross paths with you in the mafia.

The decision to let him go that evening was indeed the right one, you concluded after seeing the spark of something in his eyes.

"Right. I have a request for you."

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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c0ffinshit · 10 months

Text

Make Damn Sure (Robert Renfield x Reader) Oneshot

A/N: before you all ask, yes this is Lust For Life written from Renfield's perspective. BUT, in my defence, people like how I write Renfield sooooooo, i hope you all enjoy. word count: 1,623 warnings: not proofread, mentions of blood and a corpse, renfield being renfield, song fic so lyrics to MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday

"I'm gonna make damn sure that you can't ever leave. No, you won't ever get too far from me. You won't ever get too far from me. " - Taking Back Sunday

You've got this new head filled up with smoke, and I've got my veins all tangled close.

A loud, noisy street in the middle of New Orleans. And yet, I walk these streets alone, as I always have. Men and women pass by me, loudly wishing me a happy mardi gras. A mere head nod is all I can give them back. Once again, it is a curse I bare that he is gone. Dracula is dead and gone. Do you I have a purpose anymore? No more running about, taking innocent lives, and looking for places to relocate. What do I do? Sure, I have the group and all the talking. But yet, I can’t help about find myself growing sadder every time I hear a new story of suffering and emotional pain. These people always add advice, but it almost feels like no one cares. And I have Rebecca, the love of my life. Is she really the love of my life? What does that phrase even mean? Do I genuinely love her?

To those jukebox bars, you frequent. The safest place to hide.

Now, I pass by a corporate market. A large, garish sign read "Howdy’s." God, the lights felt blinding against my eyes. A man rushes past me, mumbling something under his breath. It didn’t matter what he said to me since the street was so loud, and I was stuck in my head. All I wanted was a quiet night indoors. But all I get is my unstoppable thoughts and bright lights from the city. Nothing is gained for this, but everything is lost. Maybe something different. A different girlfriend, location, or diet. Something different.

Suddenly, I feel a shoulder hit my arm. The woman looks up at my face and studies it for a moment. Her hair shone gently in the light of the sign. Her messager bag slowly fell off her shoulder. She seems thrown together and tired from a long shift.

"Can I help you?" she asks, a polite tone ringing.

My face froze up; I had to say something.

"Hi-yes, please help me," I spat out.

A long night spent with your most obvious weakness, you start shaking at the thought.

Her eyes just stared back at me as my hands grew closer together. It almost felt like she was studying me– my body, hair, eyes. An older-looking man comes into my field of vision, still wearing his uniform.

"(Y/N), you know this boy?” the man yells at her.

"Um, yeah, I do. This man is my-" she pauses, looking at me. "Boyfriend." she spits out.

"Really? What’s his name?" he asks suspiciously.

She, of course, dodges the question. "Yes, we talk all the time. We’re best friends."

"I wouldn’t say that," I mumble in reply.

"Seriously? You call this poor boy your boyfriend, and you can’t even tell me his name." her coworker replied.

"Shut up, Jim." she replied, "I do know his name."

"Don’t you think you should say it then?"

A long pause. "C’mon. Can we not fight in front of your so-called boyfriend?" Jim looked past me, and I could feel the man’s eyes fall toward the ground.

You are everything I want. Because you are everything I'm not.

"No, you’re right, Jim. This boy has intrigued me as she did all those months ago. Let me talk to him just a bit longer." she say.

"Aw, fine," he rolls his eyes. As the woman got closer, she continued her silent studying, noticing all stains and holes on my suit jacket. I’ve never felt more exposed, even though I was fully clothed. My shoes felt like they were too small for my feet, and my button-down shirt felt like it was too big for my newspaper-shaped body. I must come off as homeless, or better yet, a zombie.

She spoke again, this time in more of a whisper. "Listen, man, I am so sorry about that boyfriend thing. My coworker is so nosy sometimes and doesn’t know when to keep things to himself."

My eyes focus, finally looking into her eyes as I turn around. She didn’t need me anymore. I filled her purpose of being a three-second-worth of a boyfriend.

"It's fine; I can find help elsewhere. It’s no worry."

And we lay, we lay together. Just not too close, too close.

"You don’t get it. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help." the woman said, letting the bag she was holding fall to the ground. "What can I help you with?"

My eyes can’t help but look down, admiring every little bit like she did me. Her figure was so perfect. I could hold her in my arms like two puzzle pieces. "It is hard to explain-"

"Hit me. I’ve done some fucked-up shit before."

Her voice dropped a tone as she completed her sentence. For a second, I thought she had suddenly become ill. I nod slowly and ask her to follow me. This is messed up. Here I am, letting an innocent girl help me move a body into my car so my master can be fed. My heart can’t help but pump more blood as I think about it. My hands flex and tense, trying to rid my newfound sinking feeling. An alley about a block from where I had first met her. I finally led her to the dead man: covered in his blood. Her body became rigid and stone-cold, but her face told a different story.

"JESUS CHRIST!" she yelps, covering my eyes.

I am quick to hush her, covering her mouth. "Hey, it's okay. I didn’t kill this guy. I just found him."

I’m not usually the type to lie in cases like this. But… this woman was different. Her soft lips- I mean, her mouth could tell others, and I might get jail time.

How close is close enough?

I wipe my hands on my coat and hold the woman’s wrists gingerly. She drops my hands, briefly looking at the body again.

"Who are you?-" she asks, her voice and hands shaking like leaves.

"Robert Montague Renfield, and everything is going to be fine-"

"THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF FINE ‘BERT!" she screams, her eyes looking in every direction.

I cover her mouth again. She gives me this look, a look I can’t describe. We continue to stand like that until her breath finally slows down. I remove my hand, still worrying that she might scream again.

"Hush, you said you’d help. Please…" My eyes went soft. I dragged her into something she didn’t want to do. And she made that very clear with all her screaming and fighting.

I nod my head. This is the scariest moment of my life.

"Okay… fine. I’ll do it." the woman says, giving in to defeat.

"Also, not that it matters, but it's Robert, not ‘Bert.’"

And we lay, we lay together. Just not too close, too close.

"That’s what I said, but okay. What do you want me to do?" the woman says, her hands making random gestures.

I look at the body and back at her. She’s scanning me again. My pupils dilate for a moment, looking at her face.

"You grab your feet. I’ll take the head." I tell her.

She nods again and starts picking up the corpse by the feet. She is good with directions. Oh, she’s a good girl.

I grab the head by its hair and slowly move it into the palms of my hands, covering the ears. I jerk my head, ushering her towards my car. Starting with the hair, we shove him into the trunk. I take one final look and close the door.

"Thank you for helping me… I’m sorry I completely forgot to ask your name." I let out a long sigh. "It's been a long night."

She lets out a soft laugh. "It's fine, really. It's (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)..." I repeat. "What a beautiful name."

"Well, it's no Renfield." she laughs again.

I extend my hand to her. She looks at me, puzzled.

I just wanna break you down so badly. Well, I trip over everything you say.

Suddenly, as she steps towards me, I notice her body is sparkly. Oh lord, another vampire? Like I need another one in my life. My eyes go wide.

"It's body glitter… like Twilight. Y’know sparkly vampires… Edward Cullen."

"Oh." I place my hand over my chest. "I thought you were really oily or something. I get what you mean."

"No, but I’ve always wanted to meet a vampire."

Her eyes glaze over as she pictures a knight in shining black armor. Or at least, that’s what I assume.

"Well… I know a guy. I mean- he’s my boss, but I don’t think he’d mind." I mumble.

Her eyes go wide but quickly shrink.

She coughs. "Yes, I think it’d be cool to meet him… if he’s available."

"Okay, do you want to drive, or shall I?"

"I’ll drive. It's alright. Now, gimme those car keys." she says, urging her to hand her my keys.

As I toss her my car keys, she looks at my small, white cat keychain hanging off my apartment key. She seems to be in love with the thing, staring at it as she moves it back and forth in her fingers. Before getting too distracted, I cough, and she finally snaps out of her gaze. We hop in the car, and she turns on the engine, slowly backing out of the parking space.

This is going to go horribly.

I just wanna break you down so badly in the worst way.

#renfield #renfield 2023 #renfield movie #renfield spoilers #nicholas hoult #the great hulu #send help #renfield x reader #robert montague renfield #nicholas hoult x reader #call me

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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months

Text

↳ notes: art above by me. warnings for typical tf2 violence

↳ playlist: tracker/tf2 playlist

basic information

• tracker class

• tenth class

• specalizes in hunting down animals, people, objects, etc

• main weapons consist of snares and bear traps scattered around the map, but for close quarters combat a drop point blade is used. pistol if needed, but rarely

• on the battle field, they wear any sort of material that will help camafloge them. mostly a jacket that sort of works like spy's cloaking device but much weaker

• under the jacket and outside the field, they wear pants with many many pockets for any spare gear needed for traps, and a zip up jacket always left half open

• autistic. so so very autistic. undiagnosed however due to the time period, and just considered mentally ill. it's part of the reason the only job he could get was as a merc

• also trans. wears medical tape around his chest since binders don't exist; no top surgery yet. it's the 60's/70's and he isn't exactly keen to out himself surrounded by nine other paid killers. sometimes he finds himself wondering if medic would perform top surgery

• main friend is scout. ADHD/autism friends

• also gets along well with sniper. Both of them have tendencies to stay away from the explosions and stabbing down on the battle field, instead opting for their own little spots to do their jobs. they bond over that

• spy doesn't nessicarily hate them. which is a big thing, considering the fact that he hates everyone he works with

• borders between social and completely quiet. fluctuates depending on who they're with and how they're doing that day. i.e, always their best self with scout, very stoic when it comes to fighting

• has a record player. wouldn't sign the merc contract without a promise of one. had to buy their own records, though

• fond of miss pauling & her brief visits. has no idea if the sentiment is returned, but they don't really mind either way

• spy isn't allowed around them when they're drunk. tracker is not a very secretive or tidy drunk, so he'll just peel back layers of information from them until someone stops him. he did it a lot when they first joined the team, rude and sour as always, but eventually relented at the angry protests of scout

• scout calls them trackie for short. They pretend they hate it but it really just makes them smile to themself

• was in veitnam—has dogtags they hide under their shirt collar unless they forget. sometimes when they're feeling the reels of 'shell shock', they'll confide in scout since he went through the same experience

• night terrors.

• they wake up doused in sweat; throat raw.

• listens to a lot of fleetwood mac and queen. really whatever they can get their hands on though. Records are hard to come by in teufort so they can't be picky

• grew up in the south. it carries over into some of their daily mannerisms. not as much as engie, who's just full texan, but they have a strong love for sweet tea and bonfires. will occasionally make the former if they're feeling especially homesick, but that doesn't happen much

• absolutely chows down on sandwhichs with heavy

• has an obsession with chewing and blowing bubblegum. can't do it on the battlefield anymore though (they choked on it once and got sent to respawn. the following week and a half was filled with the worst heckling of his life)

• loves medics doves an insane amount. might be a little cautious of the ex-doctor himself, but they'll risk an impromtu operation just to hold archemedes for a few hours

• works with spy a lot. they're the only person that can even somewhat find out where he is or where he went. if it's the enemy spy, tracker will hunt them down or set traps to trip them up and send them to respawn. if it's their own teams spy, more often than not, the two will be paired up for missions together stealing the breifcase

• much like sniper, tracker gets sent on a lot of solo missions outside the gravel pit. tracking down targets and sending their coordinates to a hit man, or just killing them themself

• durring Expiration Date, tracker definitely takes the threat of dying more serious than the rest of the mercs

• wrote down an actual death wish to put in the bucket, but ultimately kept it to themself. and durring the next few days, they write letters to each of the mercs to give out on the last day before they die—but shred & burn all of them to pieces after finding out no ones going to die

• convinces himself that there's a time and place for heart-felt words, and it's definitely not anytime soon

• similarly to that, durring Meet The Tracker (the video is just entirely centered around him preparing for and doing their job), he doesn't talk much. just sets up traps and watches as people fall into or gets tangled in them

• does occasionally leave a comment

• "ooh, that's gonna hurt in the morning."

• "betcha he's gonna watch where he steps next time."

• "trapping never gets any easier. it''s like making a nice molotov cocktail. you gotta get it right every step of the way, or it ends up a burning pile of shit. i love it."

• the only shot we get of tracker doing anything outside the field is the ending shot

• it's dark as he lays with his back to the oak of a tree, a BLU corpse hanging upside down by rope, courtesy of a trap as they look up at the stars fondly

• it's fucked but so is everyone else

• not a good cook. i repeat, not a good cook

• knows how to pour cereal and maybe how to scramble eggs. but that's a hard maybe

• when it's his turn to cook dinner for everyone (since they all take turns doing their part) most of the time it ends up being one of the more disappointing meals. they try their best, and as time goes on they get better at cooking, but for the meantime only pyro is happy about the burnt eggs

• does not like to be touched. the most they can handle is the occasional ruffling of his hair, and even that can sometimes set him off

• overtime they get more and more comfortable with the mercs and some slight touches— smacks on the back, accidental skin on skin contact when handing things to each other, etc

• but on the rare occasion it all gets too much, tracker will blow up. and it's not pretty in the slightest

• the first time someone saw him completely lose it was spy

• it was on the battlefield. an enemy scout had found their hiding spot in a bush as he avoided their trap, and pushed them out of it, gaining the upper hand

• spy wasn't about to intervene in the first place. the newbie had to learn how to fend for himself

• his mild annoyance turned to surprise as he watched tracker lash out in fury, his spare hunting knife carving right through the BLU scout's chest cavity like it was hot butter

• even while invisible, and standing many meters away, spy could hear the heaving of their chest

• "bastard." came a frown from tracker, and a grim smile crossed spy's face as he watched them spit at the feet of the bloody corpse

• he hadn't told anyone about it, filing the information away in his brain for later

• he only let tracker know he saw them later—after they had blown up a second time. this time in front of the whole team

• no one died that time, but the communal showers were left in disastrous conditions for weeks

• he makes sniper drive him to town a lot for supply/grocery runs since the australian is one of the few who can drive (along with heavy, spy, & engie)

• tracker might also, just possibly, enjoy spending one on one time with sniper

• reverts back to more of an awkward state around him. doesn't really know how to read people all that well, and wants to actually form a bond with him

• "want anything from town while I'm in?" they asked, resisting the urge to set their feet on the campers dashboard

• "nah. but thanks, roo." sniper responded without looking up from the road

• tracker has no idea what 'roo' means, but figures it's good & sits back with a barely there smile

• when it comes to lil pootis, tracker is a prominent figure in the birds life

• will babysit him a lot; even if scout didn't ask them too originally

• gets uncharacteristically soft around pootis. especially when no one's around

• pyro saw the both of them passed out in tracker's room once with pootis curled on the mercs chest. they squealed & proceeded to drag the entire team into his doorway to see

• he woke up when pootis began to stir at all the noise

• never lived the infamous lil pootis incident down (everyone else thought it was amusing/sweet. he, in fact, did not)

• besides that embarrassing moment, tracker likes pootis a lot. keeps all the drawings he makes for them in a shoe box in his closet—right next to the drawings that pyro and scout have also given him

• pootis drew a piece of tracker & scout holding hands once with hearts around their heads

• tracker was quick to snatch it out of the eyes of the public with a poker face

• keeps it under his bed. looks at it sometimes and fiddles with his dogtags when his day's been bad

#gore #tw gore #tw war #tw violence #tags as a precaution #tracker #tracker class #tenth class oc #tf2 #tf2 sona #sona shenanigans #sardonic rambles

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cat-esper · 1 month

Text

Find the Word Tag

I'm getting a little behind on these. Thanks for tagging, @kaylinalexanderbooks

My words are rib, write, expect, spin, and person

I'm tagging @awleeofficial, @illarian-rambling, and @revenantlore and your words are home, bright, age, and creep

These are from The Zodiac Circuit, since it's been a while since I talked about it.

Rib

The wights make their move. It's like a switch has been activated and creatures that were once docile now become aggressive and violent. They're charging toward the base, heedless of the laser grid. It rips them apart but they just keep coming, their constituent parts pulling back together again into creatures that are whole, but wrong. Twisted limbs fit onto broken ribcages and crushed skulls gnash their broken cranial plates like extra mouths. There are other bones that are not human. A mass of dog, rodent, bird, and cow bones intermingle with the human remains to form monstrous things, still wearing their tendons and the weeds they crawled through to get out of the ground.

Expect

The youngest conduit, Shao Xin, raises his hand. Director Koehler crosses his arms. "Yes, conduit?" "Will we get androids soon?" Everyone seems to perk up at this. They look excited at the prospect. "That you will." Koehler smiles as if he looks forward to it too. "But I have to warn you, these are no ordinary household androids or labor models. They are classed Regulator 10-45s. Highly autonomous, capable of handling a variety of weapons, and priority improvisation. A regulator's number one priority is to protect its conduit. It's number two priority is to obey its conduit. These are high-functioning weapons and I expect you to treat them as such." This doesn't seem to deter the conduits at all. "Tomorrow you will be paired with your regulators and you will have the chance to practice syncing up once you reach Albuquerque. But the real test will be in the field, fighting the wights. I wish all of you the best of luck."

Spin

Before she could spin toward the exit, he spoke again and this time, she understood every word. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. Is there anything I can do to relieve your distress?" "You're a machine," Rhys breathed. "An android, yes. Identification 10-45-500-R, though you may call me Jonathan. Who are you?" This was just what she needed. In trying to hide from Salvada, she'd found something infinitely more dangerous.

Person

MARTHA DALTON: If it's not too much trouble, what was it like? The public are only aware of what the news tells them. They consider conduits to be heroes. But what is it really like? In the thick of it. HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: It's...Christ, I don't even know how to describe it. At first it's chaos. The wights...they don't fight like people. They don't fight like animals, either. They just overwhelm you with numbers and even when you mow them down, they keep on coming. You want an account of fighting them, you ask a soldier. But being a conduit, it's...different. Difficult. You don't see or hear things like everyone does. MARTHA DALTON: How do you mean? HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: I mean...it's like you're living this life, seeing the world as a regular person all this time. You're used to it. Red is red, water is wet. Everything makes sense. But when you plug in, it's like...it's like all your senses get scrambled. You hear smells and taste colors. You're experiencing so many sensations at once that your brain can't make any sense of it. MARTHA DALTON: Sort of like synesthesia? HECTOR RODRIGUEZ: I guess, yeah. It takes a lot of practice to get used to the way the world feels when you're channeling. That's a big reason we have androids. They stay in touch, keep us grounded, and tell us what we're seeing since we often can't tell for ourselves. And I can tell you that trying to fight under those conditions is not an easy task. It's draining and it's confusing. There are all these sounds and colors and the whole time, you feel on the brink of a panic attack. Your whole body is out of sync and it takes everything you have to keep it together.

And the last one from Incantations of the Mad Mage:

Write

Someone had set up a table on the main deck and stretched a heavy piece of canvas over it. Unsticking her frozen joints, Kas shuffled over to join Dleyda, Vier, Keldr, Ered, and Arna, who didn't seem nearly as miserable and close to death as she felt because of the cold weather. Keldr placed weights on the edges of the canvas to keep it in place and Dleyda uncapped a bottle of ink. Others joined them. "I'll need everyone's energy for this," Dleyda said. He dipped a quill in the ink and began to write. No one said a word, watching him concentrate as he wrote in the tight, looping characters of Emdakhra. Kas recognized the setup for a seeking spell, the one she and Dleyda had argued about during the beginning of the voyage. After a few minutes, he gestured to Keldr, who handed over the book, Taragren Svara: Hero of Skabray. He opened it to a page with the Reverie's specifications and began to input those into the spell. Next, Dleyda took out Reman's sword and used Dranarai as a reference for describing Dranasha as best as he could. When he finally finished, placing the quill aside, he had line upon line of spellscript filling the canvas.

General taglist: @thatrandomlemononyourcounter1, @teacupsandstarlight

#find the word tag #tag games #the zodiac circuit #incantations of the mad mage

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erzsebetrosztoczy · 1 year

Note

Is it okay if I could request something else as well for AC Valhalla. Where the reader is a Viking and her and hytham have a secret crush on each other, but when they try to bond with each other basim always interrupts them as he’s jealous of hytham and wants the reader’s attention 💙

The fruit of chores

Pairing: Hytham x reader, (Basim x reader)

Word count: 30k

Genre: fluff, awkward fluff, idiots in love

Warnings: none, they just awkward as much as i am

Note: Helloo, I'm resurrected! Sorry for the long wait, I can't really make much progress between finals, but soon it will all end hopefully and I'm coming back to write more stuff.

Ufff sooo it was A LONG TIME to do it but I hope I can compensate with its length🙊🙉🙈❤️

Encouraged with a big sigh, you bent down, gripping the sides of your basket, mustering all your strength to pull the heavy load into your lap. If the children of the village could easily fit in this basket while playing hide and seek, then it would certainly be demanding to carry your basket full of clothes on the snow and slippery frozen road, in your hands, all the way to the beach. And then to cut the ice so you can start washing. And then being fast enough to complete the task assigned to you before your fingers freeze…

Winter in the land of the Saxons was quite different from at home, they were winters long ago; it snowed here too, but in negligible amounts, as you have taken for granted since childhood. While at home you were dressed so thickly that only your eyes were visible from the multitude of scarves and furs, where you had to dig out the paths between the houses that disappeared during the night with a spade, on this island you hardly felt the frosty months. When the snow fell, it barely reached the middle of your legs, the wind didn't freeze sharp ice crystals on your eyelashes and hair, you didn't have to dig the road or use snowshoes along the banks.

There were still challenges here though; as in all cold weather doing the activities that required warm weather was a real pain to carry out.

Craning your neck left and right, you tried to keep an eye on the sloping road in front of you, as the huge basket covered your field of vision between your arms. At the same time trying to balance between the ground slipping beneath your feet and not dropping a single piece of clothing, you set off towards the beach humming a cheerful children's song that your grandparents sang to you by the fire when you were little. Passing by the Long House, you caught a glimpse of Eivor's tall blond figure between the slightly open doors, and Hytham's shorter, slimmer figure next to him.

He was wearing the white coat of his order, the gray-white fabric almost glowing in the darkness of the longhouse, the light streaming in from outside illuminating Hytham. Maybe you were looking in his direction for too long, suddenly you woke up from your observation that the ground slides out from under your feet, your leg kicked forward hauling you behind.

Accompanied by a sharp squeal, you tossed the basket to the side just in time to regain balance with your hands flapping wildly. For a moment your head was spinning, heart pounding in your chest with the force of a ritual drum, as you stood on your feet again.

“Uh, is everything okay?” Hytham's soft voice called from beside you and you jumped again. How could he reach you in such silence? Before you could slip again, he grabbed your arm, his hand securely wrapped around it, but it didn't hurt.

"Careful, now hey!" He chuckled. "I'm holding you."

You felt your face heat up, even against the cool sun — to have him so close to you, right after you almost fell… because you were watching him and not the road.

"Yes. Of course, I'm fine. Everything is fine. Thanks for… catching me.” As you looked into his eyes, the little intelligibility you had vanished from your mind. Hytham's warm brown eyes reminded you of the summer sun, the heat spreading over your skin as he held you. He examined your face so gently, kindly and inquisitively, you felt- despite the cold- that you were about to catch fire.

"Can I help you carry the basket? It's hard for a person, and I don't want you to get in trouble because of it." Saying the words, Hytham's suntanned face began to spread a faint rosy blush; he looked away in emberassement, cratching his shaven chin.

You never understood how the handsome man hadn't realized that you liked him, ever since you first met Hytham in Fonbrug you could only stutter and mumble in his presence, unable to look into his sensual eyes for a longer period of time.

At first you thought that the feeling would pass, you must have liked the young man only because he came from a mysterious land, with a culture and customs unknown to you, leaving your interest in the attraction of the unknown.

But as the months passed, the two newcomers who went with Sigurd from Constantinople became more and more familiar with the clan members, as you had the opportunity to get to know them, what kind of people they really are; you found yourself falling more and more in love with Hytham.

He was always so helpful and open to you, telling you amazing and intriguing stories whenever he had the chance. Many times at the evening feasts he sat beside you, keeping you company; and you were happy to offer to organize and pack his belongings in their office.

How he didn't realize you were hopelessly into him, you didn't know. Maybe he didn't notice the signs? Maybe he just didn't want to notice? Or were you just not interesting enough for him to bother with you?

You blinked wide when his warm touch jolted you out of your thoughts, gently holding your hand and trying to take the heavy basket away from you. Your mouth fell open but no sound could come out; you just nodded silently, with a bashful smile, you let nhim take the laundry from you.

"So, I hear that a celebration will be held soon..." The man spoke as you continued your walk towards the shore.

Peeking next to you, you watched as Hytham held the huge package with a firm hand, his feet maneuvering nimbly and precisely on the slippery surface. His gaze quickly flicked to you as you locked eyes; he quickly turned back forward with a faint smile.

“Ah, yes, the Winter Festival, Yule. Have you ever participated in one?” You asked, genuinely curious. Whenever you spoke to the young man, Hytham somehow always managed to come up with some new detail about his youth.

In his narratives he revealed how many wonderful places he has visited with his master, how many different people he has met, what adventures he had been part of, fit for the Sagas.

"Never before. Until now, I have only heard about the traditions of your people, but I am excited to finally experience them; why is this holiday of yours so important."

"I'm sure you'll like it!" You smiled to yourself; your journey soon ended as the crunch of snow under your feet was replaced by the sharp crack of thin layer of frozen ice at the edge of the shore.

Hytham quickly placed the basket next to you, showing no sign of effort. You breathed in the cold air; the faint smell of fish from the fast-flowing river and the charcoal smell of the wood burning in the huts felt strangely pleasant to you.

“Well, here we are.” Hytham scratched the back of his head with a startled, brooding look, seemingly at a loss as to how to continue the conversation.

You nodded meekly, searching for the words, the thoughts; anything that you could use to keep the man by your side just for a little while longer and hear his voice. Taking a shirt out of the pile, you gave him a cursory glance. Among the glistening white, snowy bushes and houses, Hytham stood out with his honey-brown skin, soft eyes, and ice-melting smile. Like a glowing ember, a warming light for you, in this harsh time- among your often stoic people. Every time the two of you had a chance to meet, you felt as if he could touch your heart, even with a single look.

"I really appreciate your help." Clearing your throat, you turned towards him, to which Hytham immediately turned his head in your direction. It's like being a teenager again; you felt like a little girl who started to like a pretty boy for the first time ever, and now she doesn't know what to do with herself.

“Of course. What would my master have taught me if I were to leave a lady in trouble?” Hytham gave you a half-smile, with that look again that warmed and pinched your cheeks, causing you to avert your gaze with a wry smile. Before you could regain your composure, the young Hidden One continued with astonishment in his voice: "I have to say, I haven't had the opportunity to experience such a cold season for a long time. Furnburg was colder, that's for sure; but somehow the time spent there passed quickly before we came here, the question never arose in my mind, how do you do your daily tasks when it's bone-chilling cold outside and the sun is nowhere to give you warmth...?”

Pondering on the answer you bit in your bottom lip, causing Hytham to take a sharp breath, clearing his throat again.

Shirt in hand, you stepped closer to the icy water of the river, grabbing the hem of your skirt to lift it up a bit, carefully squatting down without getting wet. Glancing up at Hytham, you motioned for him to follow your movement; he crouched next to you in the frozen sand - shoulders brushing together.

Starting with the washing while telling him what it is like to fight with the frost and cold when you need the heat the most.

“Even if snow and frost covers the ground, the dirty clothes should be washed, the same way you have to get from one house to another, the same goes for the trade, blacksmith shop, and animal feeding. We don't let the world around us tell us what we can and can't do. Even in difficult times, life goes on."

"You have reinvented yourselves, even in the harshest environment." With a nod of approval, the man- pulling away from his knees raised his palm next to yours, holding it above the surface of the water; the waves and eddies desperately trying to reach his skin.

"I remember many times I had to take my father's ax to wash, cut through the thick ice to even reach the water. As a clumsy little girl, my hands were always so frozen in the water that I could barely bend my fingers all the way." Thinking back on the memory, you sighed fondly. "Then when I got home, after a little scolding, my mother took my hands in her warm palms and breathed on them, caressed them until the pain went away and said: Next time you will know how to do it, you will be better." Glancing up, you were met with sparkling eyes. Hytham studied your face with a gentle smile and a searching look as if he was seeing a vision before him. A smile crept onto your lips as well, but before you could shake your head in confusion, Hytham turned forward, starting to watch the fast-flowing water.

"Once, when I had to run away from a merchant because he thought I had stolen from him, I fell off the roof into the horses' drinking well during a miscalculated jump." He began, dipping his palm into the water for a moment. Trying to test the water on his skin, the icy water stung his hand coldly;Hytham pulled back into his lap to warm it up as if he was stung. "When Basim saw me; how wet my clothes were, he sent me up to the rooftop of our base. I remember clearly even now- I can almost feel how hot the sun was on my skin. It burned me like hot coals.”

"Interesting, don't you think?" You hummed softly. Fire and ice, how opposite forces, yet how similar in pain, when we want too much of them.”

"But both are necessary. One cannot live without them. When you have experienced both extremes, only then will you appreciate the soft touch of the breeze or the warm hands of our loved ones.”

Hytham smiled gently, his eyes glancing up at you almost shyly from under his eyelashes, you only noticed how close he was crouching next to you once finished washing— you could almost feel the warmth emanating from his skin. For a moment, you toyed with the idea of what it would be like to have the man's warm embrace, the touch of his hands on you; would you feel the same searing heat that he told you about.

Maybe you could have stayed like that for hours. Forgetting even the cold and the tasks assigned to you; only hearing the other's voice, looking for the shy, inquisitive glances, in the midst of feelings that you hid most deeply within yourselves. Maybe, if you had watched his eyes for a very long time, the way his lips moved and curved into a smile, maybe you would have finally had enough courage to do something about the desires of your heart. Instead, your small talk was interrupted by a familiar, deep baritone voice.

"Parchments don't look over themselves, Hytham." Basim raised his voice against the roaring water, and you and Hytham turned around like startled birds. "Go back to your work slowly." He ordered the young Hidden One, tone unapologetic. His stern gaze then fell on you, his features softened, and a faint, sly smile crossed his face, nodding to you as a greeting.

Sighing deeply, Hytham got up from the water, not taking your eyes off him, you followed his movement, leaving your previous place. Grabbing a still dry jacket, you pulled it close to your chest, for one- against the blowing cold wind, and so that you could fold something in front of you, your hands finding something else to grip, other to seek Hytham's vanished touch. With pursing lips he looked down at you apologetically, his lips parted, but the young man couldn't find the words to address you again. Inside, you felt bitter that you had this moment interrupted between the two of you, even if this little conversation wouldn't count as much to anyone else; you felt Hytham's soul became one step closer to you.

"We'll continue the conversation at dinner in the evening." You offered encouragingly, seeking his gaze. "If you want to." You added it quickly before he could find you too eager.

"I would really like that." Hytham nodded, raising a palm to the back of his head.

And with that, before you could say or do anything else; the man gave you one last, hopeful look before hurrying up the shore towards the huts.

You watched as he passed by his master and teacher; the younger man's shoulders seemed to contract for a moment, and Basim's gaze narrowed as he followed his protégé's path with his gaze behind him.

Maybe they argued about something, maybe some problem arose in their work; that you suddenly thought you detected tension between the two. You weren't sure, but Basim was usually lenient, helpful, and understanding with his young student. What is the cold behavior then?

You didn't think much of it as the older man started walking towards you to the shore. His presence always demanded a form of respect and attention from people, and this did not affect you any differently. Involuntarily, you pulled yourself out and stood in front of him, as if you were the subject of a survey.

Basim approached you with a straight stance, measured steps; the senior Hidden One loomed in front of you with his hands clasped in the usual way in the front. You soon noticed that despite trying to stay calm, your face started to burn under Basim's gaze, heartbeat pacing up.

There was nothing to deny; it became a kind of open secret, a common rumor among clan members; no matter how you look at things — the two men from the far south-east enjoyed great popularity among the ladies. Both had strikingly attractive looks; in their own mysteriousness. Despite your common sense, in the company of the two of them, it was hard not to get embarrassed under the expressive eyes, in addition to the attractive features. It wasn't any different now, as you tried not to look so sheepish.

"Please, my apologies for the intrusion, I hope I didn't interrupt anything... important." He rasped low, taking care to articulate each word, lingering for a few seconds on the last words.

It was as if a thousand thoughts and expressions swirled in his dark eyes; you felt as if his gaze had burned a hole in you. Basim smiled under his beard; looking down at you with a mysterious, knowing look, scrutinizing your own expressions that he successfully coaxed out of you. “Hytham is young, full of recklessness, other than that, a novice of course, and he gets easily distracted from his duties..” Basim lisped as he drew a sharp breath in, his gaze falling onto the icy river, a cold shiver running through your spine when his eyes left your form.

"Not that I can blame him and his... curiosity towards you." He finished as he turned back to you; his gaze swept over your entire form before humming in approval.

The moment you watched Basim's movement, his reaction towards you; your heart skipped a beat. The cavalcade of a thousand thoughts suddenly vanishes from your mind; leaving hot fire, numbness and the feeling of something wanting to burst from the inside. Your heart rumbled wildly behind your starnum, shaking your bones, boiling your blood; the air fled your lungs, a gasp stuck at your throat.

That look. The movement. There was no need to think about what it might mean; a longing look, wondering what it might be like to experience the images emerging in the night; what it’s like to act upon the dream, for which one so much desires.

The realization that you may interest the man in more ways than a simple local would; a familiar face among others- it triggered an avalanche of emotions in you in the space of a heartbeat.

"And what… what kind of curiosity would drive you towards me?" It fell out of your lips, as you tried to find a grip on the whole situation. You had to make sure it was just a figment of your head: you just wanted anyone- whether it was Basim or Hytham, to feel for you the way you wanted them to feel. Blinking rapidly as if you got something in your eyes, you avoided his piercing gaze; and instead looked to the side watching the flowing river.

You felt your heart thrummed wild, unruly like the stream beside you.

With a low chuckle, the tall man finally moved, rubbing his hands together against the cold and backing away; his face softened, as if he sensed your anxious thoughts, not wanting to overstep your lines.

Releasing the almost bursting tension between you, he breathed into his palm, creating a billowing white cloud that continued to spin lazily in the cold. Then with one last look- without a word, he turned and walked away. And your question stayed in the air, curious and dejected, rising back to your head.

The quick conversation with Basim may have left you in steaming warmth, but not the clothes in your hands- and if you don't hurry to collect yourself and the rags, you can start washing all over again, but with frozen shirts and pants instead.

~~~~~~~~~~

During the evening, you enjoyed the company of Hrefna and Tove, who kept you company in their mead intoxication, you didn't have time to dwell on what happened today. There was cheerful music and singing in the great hall, ceramic bowls clinked, cauldrons clinked, cups clinked, as the clan was finally able to sit down and celebrate another successful day, another successful week.

No, no, because if Rollo had told Valtar, the boy would have lost an ear! You must have heard them wrong!" Tove articulated with difficulty, leaning on the bench to drown out the din around you.

Hrefna chuckled and slammed her mug against the board, spilling out a generous amount of beer. You sat next to her with a smile, waiting for the next twist in the gossip that happened in the barracks this week.

"That's how it happened!" The other woman proved it. "Heard with my own ears!"

You took another sip of your drink, the warmth of the sweet juice spreading down your throat, warming your heart.

"That's how it happened!" The other woman insisted. "Heard with my own ears!"

You took another sip of your drink, the warmth of the sweet juice spreading down your throat, warming your heart.

Perhaps it would be better if you were now intoxicated with alcohol, your thoughts would be fogged, dazed way- you wouldn't have to bother with the troubled images of the real world. You shouldn't feel like you're being consumed by a swamp of curiosity and doubt, that the grip of longing is falling off your soul.

You would have done so; prepared for a dreaded morning- but tomorrow at least you would not worry about your heart’s problems, but the suffering of your body, which you can so easily ignore now.

But your cup couldn't be emptied, the agony remained on your side, in fact, it seemed that fate wanted to mock you, when a gentle touch tapped your shoulder calling for attention. With a slightly dazed mind from the strength of the mead, you turned to the side, fluttering your eyelashes to make the dizziness go away as soon as possible.

Hytham towered over you, his creole skin illuminated by the firelight seemed even more dazzling, almost golden in your eyes. His gentle smile, as always, danced at the corner of his lips while looking down at you, hand still resting on your shoulder after you noticed his presence.

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit on the bench, trying to look as sober as possible in front of the man.

"Ah hi Hytham, how is your evening?" You blinked up brightly, your drink seemed to have finally dissolved your constant shyness that caught you around the young man. You felt that then, in that situation, in the midst of the loud songs and the cavalcade of people you didn't have to worry about whether you were behaving according to Hytham's liking- your mind shut that thought out for the night.

"Have you tried Tekla's beer? I think it's a bit stronger than the last one, but the sweetness covers it well, don't you think?"

Hytham nodded with an amused look- it was only now that you noticed in the light, that there was a deep red blush on his face, amidst his golden radiance. Was it just the warmth of the fire, or did Hytham have as much fun that night as you?

"I...tasted it, yes. Eivor didn't let me get up from the table until I drank with him. Then we had another toast. Then he made a toast. Then Ake sat next to us and...I don't know how much we actually drank." Hytham faltered in his speech, clearly struggling with a few words before he finished.

In the meantime there was a lot of commotion - someone jumped up on a bench to sing, and the people started singing loudly. The man had no choice but to bend down, chin touching your shoulder, trying to make himself heard.

The humid and thick air of the stuffy hall suddenly became scorchingly hot for you, your breath hitched, as the strong scent of sweet beer, smoke and myrrh hit your nostrils.

For a moment you savored the closeness, imagining what this scent would feel like as his arms wraps around your waist.

The feeling passed too soon, receded too quickly for you to be able to dream any longer, realization hitting you like a bolt of lightning.

Pull yourself together, what are you doing? Chasing vain dreams will get you nowhere.

"Could we talk outside?" You heard the question; Hytham's voice became much more uncertain, afraid of the answer. "Face-to-face in a slightly quieter place..." He trailed off, quickly biting his lips, finding a distant column to look at, instead of your astonished eyes.

What could the pioneer assassin want from you, that he deems necessary the discretion of the frosty night?

Getting up from your seat, your head felt like it was spinning around your neck, lights and shapes distorted your vision. You firmly gripped the edge of the table, supporting your nauseated form, so that you wouldn't walk like the Jomsvikings used to, on the occasion of such festives — with your head crushed under the bench, dizzy from the thrill of wine and the blow.

To your surprise, and even more to your delight, Hytham was immediately at your side, placing his palm on your shoulder blade, his other hand holding your wrist to gently support you.

"I see tripping and almost falling is becoming a habit of yours lately." He grinned - voice low and slightly teasing.

"Fortunately, you're always around to catch me." You laughed it off, finally standing to your feet, but you couldn't shake off the dizziness— in fact, a pleasant buzzing caught your mind and heart again.

Tove and Hrefna looked at each other knowingly, grinning and toasting to each other that finally, maybe today you will get something from the excitement offered by the pleasant night. Hytham, still holding your wrist, led you through the beer and food slippery room, sometimes stepping over people lying on the floor, or dodging couples- dancing wildly around the tables, all the while pulling you close to his side, letting yourself be guided by his movements through the room

As he opened one of the huge oak doors in front of you, your heated skin sighed from the cooling breeze that wafted in and shook the torch flames. You knew that soon the pleasant refreshment would turn into biting cold, but until then you closed your eyes and left, feeling your mind start to return again, your sobriety coming back to life.

Hytham led you under the huge tree that stood in the square, pausing at its trunk to quickly scan the surrounding hutches, bushes, and sheds, looking for any unwanted eye witnesses or witnesses to his tale.

You watched as his sharp gaze darted from one spot to another, paying great attention to every little detail; and you wondered if he had ever looked at you with such great concentration.

Her gaze suddenly fell on you, and feeling as if you were caught in the act of staring, you bit your lip and lowered your eyes.

"I just wanted to make sure no one was intruding on our conversation." The young man explained apologetically.

A snort escaped your mouth, you looked back at him shaking your head. "I think quite a lot of people saw that we came out of the feast together, one way or another, but they're going to stick their noses into this with their rumors." Yes, but what kind of rumors they would be, you weren't sure. Knowing your clan— you didn't want to find out that soon.

"Let them say what they want." Hytham replied determinedly, a slight furrow appearing on his forehead and between his eyebrows. He took a step towards you, shoulders broad, chin up, a new light shining in his eyes. "What people around me think is not important to me. To me... the only thing that matters is what you think of me.”

Mouth falling sack, eyes widening, your heart jumped alongside with your belly before it started beating madly. What you heard before could only have been the effect of the honey-beer you drank, or you were so lost in admiring the man from afar that you were already imagining things.

When the realization finally hit you, and you were sure you heard Hytham's words correctly, all of your thoughts had been swirling, brewing inside of you suddenly stopped.

Would you have fallen into a world of states where everything happens according to your heart's desire? Or has this become a bitter joke of the Gods? Maybe... could it have been possible that your deepest hidden desire could come true?

“Hytham… what I think has always been the best about you and always will be. I don't think anything can change that." You reached for his hand, which you nervously squeezed in front of himself.

As you wrapped your fingers around his palm as if something had stung him, Hytham flinched; although instinctively opening his palm, taking your hand in a warm fist, thumb starting to trace circles on your skin.

"Not even.." He trailed off, shining, eyes blown wide- studying your features, going back and forth on your open lips. “Not even if… Should I say…I think I started to really like you?” He spoke the words timidly, as if revealing his most precious secret.

Which, as you now knew, was true.

“It looks like we're in the same boat then. I've taken a liking to you too, Hytham. Greatly." You almost sang the words out of joy, the warming touch on your hand became stronger, the man squeezed your fist, pulling it up to his chest- pulling you closer to his body.

You were almost sure, Hytham could hear your violently pounding heart, could see that you were about to cry, -laugh out of happiness, dancing with him on the snowy square. You looked up at him with glistening eyes, remembering every little detail as he looked at you, remembering this night as it played out.

"Really?" He breathed, excited. "I didn't think you would either... And I thought..." He didn't even finish the sentence; he slowly raised one of his palms to your face, your cheek fitting perfectly into his hand. "Can I ask... Can I give you a..."

"Yes." You spurted out giggling, expression soft, eyes beaming. Hytham let out a hearfelt chuckle, finally leaning down, his soft lips brushing over yours, before he finally kissed you. It was a gentle, tender kiss; that spun you around and released butterflies in your tummy.

All too soon, Hytham pulled back slightly, causing you to stumble forward, not wanting to end it yet.

For a moment both of you just held each other, eyes half lidded, trying to catch your breath, smiling at each other with the sweetest smile you ever wanted to gift someone with.

After some time, Hytham finally cleared his throat, collecting some of his posture.

" If you wouldn't mind... I would like to accompany you during your daily chores more. You see, I'm a great help…and we can talk and—”

"I would like that. More than you imagine.” You giggled, blinking up sheepishly at him. Next time you could bring your robes. I can wash them for you.”

Bringing up your hands once more, Hytham gingerly placed a few pecks over your knuckles, before speaking.

"Let's head back soon, it would be a shame that we freeze now." He chuckled, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Agreed.” You smile in agreement, accepting the offered hand. "We continue the chat inside."

Maybe it isn't so bad that you are tasked with these chores after all. What else can an afternoon of washing bring?

#ac valhalla #assassin's creed #assassin's creed valhalla #ac hytham #ac valhalla hytham #hytham #hytham x reader #ac hytham x reader #ac valhalla imagine #ac valhalla fanfic #my writing

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justimaginescenarios · 2 years

Text

Disclaimer: I not own Bleach, but this scenario

Character: Muguruma Kensei

Category: NSFW, office, no protection, sweet

Word count: 1556

I can't believe that I did it one day ฅ(•ㅅ•❀)ฅ

Please enjoy, I hope you feel well with my first work ( =ノωヽ=)

You're a member of 8th Division, because you feel safe when you are with girls like you, and there are tons of men in other divisions. Once a week as captain Lisa said in the recruitment, a banquet is held, and the theme of this week is kimono. Captain has especially prepared one for you.

When you wear it on, it's so embarrassing, since half of your chest is exposed to the air. Captain said, however, girls need to show their beauty.

On D-day, the 8th division is full of giggles as jingle bells of the young girls. In merry, they prepare the food and drink in the main hall. At the time, your heart is popping out as you put on the outfit, and your comrades help you braid your hair. They pin adorable poppy flowers onto your braid.

The door opens harshly. Your captain comes to check her girls. She could hold her excited hiss since she sees a field of beautiful flowers. Others have done with their preparation, they fascinatingly go to the banquet hall. You are left behind, because you are not used to how sexy you are now.

From your back, captain Lisa smacks her tongue. Then, suddenly, your breast is under attack. She rubs your breast, tickles you, making you laugh out of breath. When you realise, she is above you.

"I told you it's ok to show your beauty-"

"Not in front of you, you pervert captain."

You roll your eyes toward the familiar voice.

"Ke… captain Muguruma!?"

You cannot hold your surprise when you see the well built man standing at the door.

"Get off her, you perv."

You can hear the anger in his tone. Your captain curses irritatedly, but still does it. You push yourself up, toward the other captain, ask.

"Ke… captain Muguruma, why are you here? Men are…"

"Finish fast, the banquet will start soon. I want to see all my girls"

Lisa passes her friend, then leaves the room.

The door shuts behind his back. His eyes don't know where to lay on. That kimono cannot cover your erotic part well. Looking at you trying to hide your skin in, just making him eager to strip it off. That all men are gonna do if they see their significant other in those erotic clothes.

"Kensei, why are you here?"

When there are just two of you, you can call him by his name. No reply from your man, but with his shunpo he approaches you in a half of second. He sits seriously with his arms crossing on his chest, in front of you.

"Why do you wear this?"

He asks in his lower voice. He's in heat? Of course, just looking at his girl now has made him crazy.

"This time's theme is kimono, so-"

"Even that, not like this."

His tone gets higher.

He's angry? Maybe, because beside him others will land their eyes on his girl too.

"I know, but captain Lisa-"

Before you can end your word, he smacks his tongue angrily. You round your eyes looking at him. You can't hold your giggles. You lean toward him, circle your arm around his broad shoulders.

"It's 'kay, just we girls together. Don't worry-"

"Yo! Have a good day girls!"

From outside the voice of captain Hirako echoes. "Just girls, you said?"

He is truly angry now. His girl is really seen by a man.

Even you get surprised why he is here. Captain Lisa never let a man be involved in banquets.

Not letting you have time to talk, he takes your hips. In a second you are flying at high speed in his muscle arms.

9th Division, Captain office.

"Hh… Ken… hmm~ … "

He wants to drain all your air with his kiss. You can't breathe well, because his tongue clings to yours, and digs into your throat.

" 'low dow'…" you huff, then be trapped into him again. You punch to the iron chest, but nothing changes.

When he feels you are unable to breathe he lets you go. From above, you are so enchanted in flush. You have no strength to push yourself, but fall into him. He carries you to his office desk, puts you on it.

"Kensei…"

You mutter. You are unable to hide yourself anymore as his mountain body is blocking between your legs.

He leans down until his forehead meets yours.

"I miss you, Kensei…"

It has been a week since you two parted because of his mission.

You raise up to kiss him. In gentle, he replies.

"Can I?"

This man always asks before he does.

"You've got all the rights."

Your sweet smile just fires him. Then, he jumps into your kiss while his hands are starting to run on your body.

His kisses fall on your heating cheek, then down to your neck, and become hungrier as sucking your breasts. The cherry eye attractive marks are left on your chest. He easily unties the obi, and throws it away. The annoying fabric is pushed aside. You can't hold your gasp as he lays you down on the desk . You are totally exposed under your man's eyes.

He is on fire. He buries his head into your breasts, takes your tit into his mouth. You groan.

"You want others to come and watch us?"

Afraid of his warning, you immediately cover your mouth. This guy is so mischievous, not like his serious appearance, at the moment he sucks your tit hash. You get too hurt to cry out.

His other hand finds the place between your legs. On the other side of the fabric, your sensitive flesh is rubbed too watery.

"Ken… Kensei… " you try to catch your breath "ah~" he suddenly pushes a digit of his finger into you with the fabric.

"I said you should lower your voice… "

He raises up, looking down on you. His finger still teases your beneath. Your pouted face amuses him, so he keeps doing it. Circle around, push in a little then pull out.

"Kensei, please…." Try not to be loud " … Don't tease me… I can't… more… "

He dries your tears falling on your cheeks. Then, without a second thought he tears off your panties and shoves his middle finger in. Your scream in the meantime is blocked in his palm.

Due to his thick schedule, it has been more than a month since the last time. Your hole gets tight again. His finger wonders if it could be crushed under your inner pressure. He hiss through his teeth. The tight the finger feeling sends to his beneath thing, making it more solid and stand higher. He really wants to put himself in, but you will be broken for sure. Therefore, he needs to loosen you first. One finger is in and out for a moment, then another one rushes in.

They rub your inside to soften and scissor you to widen the narrow cave. The third one easily goes in. Your groans weakly leak out the palm. The more he stimulates, the damper you are. When there is a little pond created by your juice on his desk, he knows that you are ready for him. He withdraws fingers, and frees you to breathe.

His thing pops out, slaps on your inner lips. He pushes his hip to help himself water it in your fluid. He has no idea that you are being burned under his heat.

"Kensei… stop…"

He licks his dry lips as how wet you make him. He is in a hurry as well. He sets the head at your trembling entrance while he is leaning on you. You grab his haori.

"Please… Kensei…"

Your entrance is spread wider as he enters you. His strong arm keeps your hip firmly, making sure you not to be pushed away because of his deep thrust. One hand he comforts you by massaging your breast. All your moans are swallowed in his mouth.

He penetrates deep and harshly. The kiss is unable to hold your moans.

"Ken… Ke'se' … slo' … hah ah… stop… um ~ mm~"

But it's your fault, how he can hold himself when you suck him is so fascinating. Not only you, but him too waiting for a month to touch his girl. Of course, he wants to fill you in his love.

He parts your lips, covers your mouth again in his palm. His speed is up. You open your eyes widely, you scratch his arm covering your mouth. He is at the speed you can't catch up. Your body arches up as you reach your limit.

He pulls up a smile since he archives his goal. After many times. He clues himself to yours, no distance between you two. You are spoiled by his love as he comes. He also gives his hand up.

"I miss you, too, Y/N."

He wipes your tears.

"You mean, Kensei… it's hurt… " you pout, look at the place you two are connecting, your face gets burned.

"It's a shame I couldn't hear your moans. I'm looking forward to tonight, Y/N."

You have no power in a battle with him. You two have done it many times and you moaned as he wanted that night and a night after. Your inside and outside were marked well by him.

#bleach #kensei muguruma #muguruma kensei x reader #bleach scenarios #bleach smut #reader insert #scenario

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zmasters · 4 months

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The Characters in my Chaos Mercenary Warband: The Rust Hydras

I can't draw for shit, enjoy the descriptions of my lovable group of psychopaths.

Characters from my Warhammer fan fic, and models I play. I will add things as time goes on.

The Rust Hydras are an Alpha Legion mercenary warband lead by the Warpsmith Narvik. Based out of the strike cruiser Rusted Herald, but has recently taken over the fedual world of Kage in the Izanagi system, the warband specializes in sabotaging enemy vehicles. While a small force, they offer their services as mercenaries. This is usually done by infiltrating the target's location, sabotaging and stealing vehicles and defense platforms, and leaving when the hiring invasion force arrives. They also build daemon engines for sale.

Vera von Hellebor

Role: Knight Destructor Pilot, Psyker, Daemon Summoner, Forge Assistant

Aliases/Nicknames: Bloodfly, Narvik's Pet, the feck is that thing?

Pronouns: she/her

Physical Description: 6ft 5. Teal scaled carapace, which can change colors and take the appearance of normal human skin-tone. Her arms and legs end in four sharp claws, but can be reshaped into human-like proportions. Blonde hair and purple eyes, both of which can be changed as well. A pair of horns sprout from her forehead, and she has a tail. She has a pair of blood red insect wings, which are kept hidden in her back carapace.

Bio:

The mutated daughter of the leader of the Knight House Hellebor, Vera and her knight, the Unrepentant Misery (inherited from her brother, Sven, who past defending her from the inquistion), were given up to the Alpha Legion warpsmith Narvik in order to protect her from the Inquisition. Under Narvik's tutelage, she was raised as his assistant.

Personality:

Knight pilot savant, master of the forge, and novice daemon summoner, Vera is an moron in ever other possible field, and is only a competent spy because of her psyker powers.

Bubbly and optimistic though quick to rage, she sees Narvik as her father, and is willing to do whatever he says. Her daily duties include summoning daemons to be put into engines, and killing daemons that escape from being put into engines.

Daemons find her difficult to possessed due to her overwhelming optimism. That being said, it has happened before. As well, Vera the psyker strangely favors Khorne over the other three Chaos Gods, and wears a Khornate pendent gifted to her by her older sister Marianne (a proper Khorne follower).

She has since carved out a small kingdom on the moon of Kage, and claims (key word, claims) all of the Izanagi system as hers. But she finds actually ruling a kingdom to be boring, and plans to hand it off to her partner Zyn.

Vera is aromantic, a trait that confuses the asexual Narvik and Iska. She is also in a queer platonic relationship with Zyn, who wants a proper romantic relationship but understands that it's unlikely.

Likes: Murder, blowing shit up, building things to blow shit up with

Dislikes: Peace, actually ruling the kingdom she made, her biological father

Narvik the Rusting Hydra

Role: Warband Leader, Warpsmith,

Aliases/Nicknames: Alpharius, Omegon, "that red one" -Iron Warrior's Chaos Lord, "Father" -Vera

Pronouns: he/him

Physical Description: 8ft 2. Olive skin with no body hair. Most of his body has been replaced by cybernetics in a way that resembles an unmodified astarte. Wears a rust-red set of armor, only his helmet and right pauldron being Alpha Legion teal. His armor appears to be perpetually stained in oil.

Bio:

Graduated as a tech-marine from Mars a day before the Horus Heresy, Narvik had a rough start as a Chaos space marine. He quickly jumped ship, taking a handful of legionnaires of various traitor legions with him, and vanished into the Warp. He and his men reappeared a few (thousand) years later, accidentally causing a warp storm to cover Vera's homeworld the day she was born, which mutated every child born for an entire month. Hiding out for a few years, Narvik stole these mutated children, alongside a number of captured human serfs and knights. As the world was torched by the inquisition, and they vanished back into the Warp.

Personality:

Narvik is a serious man, prioritizing the survival of his people over anything else. His training under the mechanicum caused him to develop a clinical and mechanical outlook on everything. Despite this, he cares for Vera like a daughter, despite his emotionless style of speaking suggesting otherwise.

He spends most of his free time mentally connected to the Rust Herald's machine spirit, wishing for the simple life of being a ship.

He taught Vera how to read binary, and nothing else.

One of his hearts temporarily stopped after catching Vera drinking oil. She was fine.

Likes: Fucking with people, selling what remains of his soul for the highest price, dreaming about being a complete machine, Vera

Dislikes: Loud noises, the Rusted Herald taking damage, the mechanicus (he's fine with the mechanicum)

Havoc Champion Iska

Role: Havoc Squad Commander, Second-in-Command

Aliases/Nicknames: Havoc, Rusty, Uncle

Pronouns: [REDACTED]/[DATA EXPUNGED] do not refer to them

Physical Description: 8ft 10. Wears a set of rust red armor with taloned boots. Each pauldron is silver in color. They never removes their armor in the view of others.

Bio:

The youngest of the astartes of the Rust Hydras (being born after the Heresy), Iska has quickly raised through the ranks to entering Narvik's personal guard. They now serves as Narvik's right hand, taking charge whenever the warpsmith is busy building machines or daydreaming of being a machine spirit.

Personality:

Iska is a creature of few words, only speaking when they deems appropriate. And most times, they still don't speak. As leader of a havoc squad, they favor long range combat, their favored weapons being a lascannon.

Iska has volunteered for the role of uncle in Vera's life, spoiling the little beast with trophies from their conquests.

Vera sees Iska as a big, quiet teddy bear.

Narvik thinks Iska is an effective warrior and a worthy successor.

Everyone else is terrified by the silent giant.

Likes: Vera, Murder

Dislikes: Everything else

Zyn

Role: Vera's partner, Spy

Aliases/Nicknames: Horns, Bloodfly's Bloodbag

Pronouns: she/them

Physical Description: 6ft 2. A beastwoman with black fur, bright yellow eyes, curved ram-like horns, and bone white hooves.

Bio:

The mutated daughter of Vera's wetnurse, she and her future partner were close for their entire lives. She wasn’t abducted with Vera though, and was forced on the run with alongside the remaining nobility of House Hellebor. Zyn and Vera united over two decades later, after Vera killed her father for selling her out to the inquistion and causing the collapse of House Hellebor. Since then, she has served as Vera's queen. And while she isn't as gifted as Vera is in battle, she knows how to read and generally takes care of the day-to-day ruling.

Personality:

Zyn is very defensive of Vera, seeing her partner and knight lord as theirs. This has gotten them into trouble as they tried to defend their partner from potential suitors. When away from suitors, she is incredible lovey-dovey with Vera, who's aromantic ass is also incredible oblivious. Zyn has to specifically say that she wants sex to get Vera's attention, and sometimes that doesn't work.

She was trained to be Vera's maid prior to her abduction by the Rust Hydras, and generally takes care of the cleaning and laundry. Vera can never do laundry again, after trying to using the heat produced by her knight's exhausts to dry their clothes. Zyn also cooks everything, due Vera somehow burning ice cream. She is fine with this, as despite their bestial appearance and rage, Zyn has a traditionally feminine personality. She wants to be the housewife, cooking, cleaning, and raising their kids. Though she's fine without the "kids" part.

She is unaware that Vera had laid eggs and given them away, mostly because Vera isn't sure how that happened and feels too embarrassed to admit it.

Once discovered that Vera was possessed by a daemonette after she wanted to top.

Likes: Vera, murder, housework

Dislikes: Non-mutated humans, a knight collecting dust, blood in her clothes

I may occasionally add updates to this, if anything, just to make Vera weirder.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #chaos 40k #warhammer fanfic #warhammer oc

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witchofthesouls · 10 months

Note

Okay, I love your Giant Liasion! AU now imagine Giant Witch! Liasion! In honor of it almost being Halloween.

I would love to see Liasion go toe-to-toe with Tryest, or the DJD, or Overlord and them going ‘oh scrap! I have a human fetish! I might hate all organics but this one is different’ kind of thing.

Well, damn, it's been a long time since this was sent ^^;

Sooo, I got Grandma Darby on my mind... this will be less sexy and more nightmare fuel. At least to us. Overlord will be Overlord. This can overlap with the not-anymore-human Liasion from this post.

Warnings: torture and mental/memory manipulation

___________

"I thought you were the creative one."

Overlord drops the whimpering minibot, and turns to see a tiny organic.

He steps on it. Not even a satisfying crunch under the slam of his pede.

The whimpering stops as does the noises of broken plating and sparking wires. Overlord can't smell the freshly spilled Energon, nor can he feel the tumultuous ride of agony and naked fear from Rewind's EM field.

A soft sigh ghosts over his left audial and he finds you standing right behind him. No longer a tiny bug, but a giant one. Pristine and unbothered.

Rewind is gone, but he can definitely feel the slippery remains of your tiny self under his pede.

The edges of his vision flutters in a peculiar manner, wispy and smoke-like.

"Trying to hide behind such a sloppy trap, Chromedome?" He destroys the corners with a quick shot, and sends a blast straight to your face-

Overlord then finds himself back in the chair, bolted down, and your hands are deep inside his frame. The plating is peeled back with surgical precision and extensive knowledge, or at least with his limited viewpoint and current pain threshold.

The codes from Chromedome's memory don't work.

"Feeling me up-" Overlord tastes his own fluids bubbling from his throat "-without any dinner? How did you get me back-"

"Shhh," you press a digit to his lips, interrupting him. And for that audacity, he savagely bites into your unprotected flesh. Instead of a mushed, severed limb and the raw taste of tangy metals mixed with fat and oily proteins, his own denta aches, jaw vibrating from being forcibly stopped.

He bit directly into your joints and you don't even flinch. It's not human blood that fills his mouth, it's something far hotter and viscous. Your endoskeleton doesn't crumble. No. It's a material that's beyond the durability of ununtrium.

"You never left this room." Your words are nonchalant and he feels the slight tug of a shrug. With a casual, flippant wipe with your other bloodied hand -the one that was messing inside his abdominal cavity - you wear his innermost Energon as carelessly applied lip paint. The bioluminescence is stark-bright upon the lower half of your face and is only matched by the deep, unsettling gaze within those pitiless eyes -a void that ate everything.

You suddenly force your hand deeper into his intake, fisting it, and the strange fluid superheats into a pyroclastic flow that immediately liquefies his uncoated circuitry.

Overlord jerks and seizes in the hold, thrashing made minimal by the chair. Your fist is immovable. Entirely black eyes unblinking as you drink up his expression.

Your other hand pulls out his molten insides, and he laughs hysterically at the reminder of the cheese pull, choking on your limb. You shove that hand back into his cavity, punching upwards, sliding roughly against his unprotected endoskeleton, and grabbing his spark chamber.

Overlord chokes as serrated talons puncture it, clenching and unclenching in a rhythm that ignites his tattered neural-net and he thrusts into that grip-

It resets. He's still in the wretched chair, but he's whole and relatively unscathed, even with his nasal ridge overwhelmed with the phantom stench of liquified metal. His protoform itches and aches from carvings etched deep into his frame.

"My, my, Chromedome," he licks his lips, tasting the faint remains of his own melted innards and scorched fuel. "I didn't know you had such a cruel streak, but why that face?" He coos. "There's no harm here in indulging such pleasures."

Those lips quirk upward, and amusement glitters in your eyes. "I'm not Chromedome, and he isn't here.

"And who are you, then?"

You smile and Overlord can see a metallic flash in those blunt teeth, and his insides quiver, vents hitching. "We have all the time in the universe to get to know each other."

#ask #transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #reader insert #overlord #creature #body horror #torture #valveplug #ish #maccadam #my writing #look the direction went weird #since it's overlord and he has pain kinks #no one is surprised that he's into this shit

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vodkaskys · 1 year

Text

FANFIC REC: trans H or L

She Feels So Good (Louis knows that voice. Harry’s used that voice in his ear more times than Louis can count, said such sweet, naughty things while popping a hip out and pressing up against Louis. All while wrapping the words in that voice. That’s the voice that comes out when Harry’s in a skirt, nails done and gestures soft and flirty. That’s the voice Louis is a sucker for every time, even now when it’s coming from a prerecorded segment playing off a monitor.) (4k)

Nothing's the same as it was (save you) ( Harry gets dressed. Then Louis comes home. There's a she in there, somewhere.) (3k)

i can't wait to see what you find (Louis finds himself entering an interesting sexual arrangement with a happy, committed couple.He gets more than he bargained for.) (12k)

Everything You Do (“You like feeling like my girl?” Louis wasn’t asking just about sex.His words weren’t harsh, Harry realized. The hands on his back and in his hair were still there, still moving. Louis just sounded — he just sounded like he was asking Harry to explain.“Yeah,” whispered Harry. He hadn’t felt this fragile in Louis’s arms for as long as he could remember. Like Louis could prod him too hard and he’d shatter. Collapse into dust. But Louis kept not prodding him, not pushing him. He just kept holding him, surely, like Louis knew he wouldn't break him.) (6K)

Ever Since I Tried Your Way (In 1949 Harry left his bride at the altar, running away from the only life he'd known. When a kindhearted farmer offers him a ride in his truck and a place to sleep the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together. Isolated on Louis' farm with nobody but a field of dairy cows to intrude, the men are finally able to explore the parts of themselves they've spent their lives hiding away.) (25k)

Take from me my lace (and lipstick too heavy for summer) (Harry likes to wear lace and lipstick. Louis lets him.) (1k)

Watermelon Sugar High (Resting right between his legs, the long slice open and juicy and red and his fingers pressed just so, it looked to his wine-hazy brain like a cunt. Like it could be /his/ cunt.) (2k)

violence of my own touch (Louis hasn’t said anything, but Harry knows something is wrong. Harry’s rut had ended a few days ago, and Louis had kept him under as best as he could.) (5k)

Little Black Dress (Harry wears a Little Black Dress to a party on a dare, Louis sees him from across the room and it’s love at first sight.) (1k)

nobody knows like me (Harry does his best to cope with a secret life in the summer of '74.) (3k)

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? ("You…" Harry touches his own mouth, teasing. "You ate her pussy?""Yeah." Louis stops playing with Harry's cock and gropes his arse again, pulling his cheeks apart and pushing them back together over the thong. "Want me to eat yours?"Louis reenacts his first time, and Harry wants to be his good girl.) (7k)

you're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece ( The one where Harry is soft and pretty but doesn't see it and Louis just wants to love him the way he deserves.) (50k)

Turns Out She's a Devil (In-Between the Sheets) (Louis Tomlinson, aged 27, will be found dead in a hotel room in Italy come morning. He feels this way, from how weak his knees are, how quickly his pulse is racing, the way he can't breathe . He's got his hand clutched over where his heart is stuttering against his ribs in an uneven tattoo, back pressed against the hotel room door to try and steady himself. It's all rather dramatic, really, and if he saw someone else being this overcome he'd drag them for filth. But it's not someone else, it's him that's gasping for air like a lovesick dope because that's exactly what he is.) (3k)

Love is a word, you gave it a name (After two decades in brutal show business, Louis Tomlinson is trying to restore his tranquility of mind in the peace of Northern Europe where the sun barely sets, Maria's bar is always open, and young Harry has an irresistible spark in his eyes.) (158K)

#Larry Stylinson #larry fanfic rec #fanfic rec #fanfiction #harrytrans #larrytrans

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tsumukono · 2 years

Text

Chapter 4: planting seeds

He woke with massive headache up, his body was sore protesting and he got the jacket close, breathing in the delicious strong scent. He rubbed his face in, his inner omega purring at the Alpha scent giving soft whine. It smelled like rice? And fields,wild flowers. He opend his eyes and looked at the jacket, rosing elegant eyebrow and try remeber what happend last night, he was sure he still was virgin since his ass feel intac just his neck feel bit off and he smelled himself that scent, now he remeber who it was, kita’s scent!

He grumbeld the two toned Alpha scent market him and his nest, great he has to change the sheets and take long shower scrub it all off. Still he has wash the jacket and give it his former captian back, his hand trembeld bit holding the jacket tighly in his hand and take another sniff from it, he blushed hearing himself purring watch in horror how his tail wagged thumping on the bed gently. His inner omega he though burried deep down, showing up and showed him to accept THIS alpha but he refused it. Instead washing and giving the jacket back like planned he made it part of his bed and he really had fight with himself and the omega inside, losing against it.

He cursed under his lips even more seeing in mirrow the hickey on his gland, kita used the situation were he was drunk. Not to do stuff but leave hickey, he grumbeld loudly. He was lucky his former captian had patince nervs of steel or he would be claimend. Knowing to well every other alpha would use this situation to inpregnat him claim him.

Getting under the shower and scrub the scent off he decide wear scarf today, that isen’t off at all. Knowing samu and suna will be away for week obivious for they honeymoon. He was by himself, it made him nervous and bit scared. Swallowing he shook his head, no he can deal with shit, he wasen’t weak like others.

So he made his way to work, the day went quite, nogthing to crazy it was just strange seeing samu’s shop closed. He shuddered and rubbed his arms, half of day was over so he was good plus his twin gave him message he better be ok or he kick his sorry ass for disturbing his honeymoon. He had grin just backfired he better not break the bed with his stupid strengh.

Getting his small lunchbox out with few orgini he tryed making himself, they looked poorly made, truth told it took him the hole morning making them and look decent still they look if a little toddler made them. His stomach made a sound he was about take the first bite when his shop bell jingeld signaling that customer came in, the scent made him look up and watch kita stepping into his shop looking at his flowers with stonic look and then straigh at him „good day tsumu“ the alpha would lie if he wasent dissapoiment not smell himself on him as seeing he is wearing a scarf to hide the mark he left „good early evening kita-san“ his tail thumped at the floor wagging happy see the alpha his inner omega was purring. He cursed try step on his own tail, watching how kitas thicc fox tail wagged softly as answer, knowing that part of artic fox he was. „I see ya happy see me, samu told me keep eye on you“ his eyes widen, that what his brother ask his former captian, he can't imaged that. he would ask him later just not now he is busy with his mate.

„Ya shop is nice, comftable. It suit’s you“ tsumu's ears perk up and he smiled, he is the first Alpha that compliment him on his Shop, it made his chest swell with pride „t-thanks kita-san, took me while…as being accepted to work on my own and this shop“ the other hummend getting closer looking at the food from the omega „ya want go Lunch with me?“ his ears went half down his tail wagged and his inner omega was screaming at him say YES but he shook shy blushing his head. Kita knew he would refuse and was prepared for it „ya know this“ he point at his food „isen’t enough for the rest of the day“ he know kita was right and the alpha hummend „i could get take out, be my guest. What ya want“ again he want pay the food, what was that behavior showing off „before ya think to much, want repay for last time ya payed lunch“ tsumu’s ears perk bit up „fine, mh i like ramen with extra fatty tuna, mango passionate bubble drink“ Kita smiled in triumph that tsumu accepted, it was step in the right direction „good get ya that, any special shop?“ atsumu had to think for moment before his ears perk up his eyes sparkeld bit „yes isen’t to far from here, think right arround corner with nice old pair“ kita nodded knowing the shop „ok i be right back then we eat together“ he went out, atsumu watching after him. His tail wagging, his inner omega in delight a alpha that cares. He was annoyed, that his instincs woke up and damm omega he burried with medication, were they wearing off? Were they to weak? He has call his doctor but he told him back, if right suitable mate comes. Not even the strongest medication can calm the inner beast down. Does it mean his inner omega though kita was suitable mate, no can’t be or?

He shocked his head annoyed at his inner omega who slowy came out winning against his stuborn traumazied head, he just though, he would look weak accepting alpha, he would be weak but kita seem acting respectfule to him.

He was unsure and in a big conflict with his thoughs, how to handle this and not let his guard down and thorns he grew.

Soon kita came back, with exatly what he wanted even bit of extra fatty tuna. His omega was pleased and his scent let the alpha know he did good, crooning at golden omega who trys break out of atsumu, who still struggels keep it locked up „thank you kita-san“ kita gave soft grunt sitting on chair „call me shin or shinsuke, not so formal tsumu“ again the omega was taken back blushing and eating quite his food but kita feel and know by each reaction he observe he did the right step, he could see the thorns loosend up a bit but not enough to do major step.

They ate comftable and the next thing the omega fumbeld with his hands „t-thanks for the meal ki…shinsuke“ his cheeks heated up and had faint red color on his cheeks, the two toned alpha hummend soft croon, his thicc white tail giving soft wag „no need to thank me you welcome tsumu…“ he stared at the omega and tryed hold his inner alpha back who demand do more steps, but he is telling himself, babysteps „i see you covered my mark..“ the omega gripped at his scarf confused if he should be angry or happy he got it, his blush darkend on his cheeks „y-y-yes…i…uhm….well…“ he shrunk when kita stood up holding with one hand his trembeling hands and the other stroked his cheek „shhh….it's ok…could not reist..give you a mark..“ he saw the golden omega swallow nervously kissed the forhead while his hand glide down to the scarf tugging it away, so the hickey was visible „tsumu wont lie….ya know i am honest…i want you…you properly notice…i scent you.left my jacket but i know…it's hard so go slow in your pace but i want you and no wont see you as breeding housewife, you strong omega, who can watch his own back“ he stroked with his thump over the marked scent gland, while tsumu had wide eyes and a red face, he was happy, angry, scared in the same time his inner omega celebrating try take controll but only let sweet scenting smell out, that kita inhaled greedly and get his face close to his neck sniffing it, he could feel the hot breath touching his skin and swallowed nervously and let the alpha do as pleased for now.

Kita knew atsumu was stiff, new to this. So he gave long gentle lick at the gland and used his thump leaving his scent as scenting the omega before him, kissing again the forhead „i be back tomorrow same time, think of what to eat“

Before atsumu could react he was gone leaving perplex omega with wagging tail.

He planted his seeds arround his chosen flower, now they need grow arround it.

#haikyuu #atsumu miya #yaoi haikyuu #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #kita x atsumu #rare ship #yaoi couple #digital art #haikyuu roleplay #haikyuu fanfiction #omega atsumu mya #haikyuu omrgaverse #alpha kita shinsuke #kitaatsu

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