#‘so you think murder is okay’ DID NOT SAY THAT. I SIMPLY DO NOT THINK LYING IS WORTHY OF BEING EXILED AND HAVING UR CHILDREN DIE

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell Sequel 08 - Fan Translation

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this fan translation, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

The moment Keith pulled me away from the man, bandits cloaked in black revealed themselves.

They radiated murderous intent as they closed in with their swords.

(Did they ambush us, even pretending to be injured? Or did we simply happen to get too close?)

Alter!Keith: “Shiou, get in the carriage.”

Shiou: “That’s my line. Emma first.”

Shiou: “I’d like to say that, but we need to deal with a considerable number of them before getting into the carriage.”

(There are twice as many as the guards.)

One of the bandits ran silently toward us, swinging down his sword.

Alter!Keith lightly deflected the attack with his sword, immediately following up with a punch and a kick to the bandit’s solar plexus, sending him flying.

Alter!Keith: “Emma, your safety is the top priority.”

Alter!Keith: “Don’t think about anyone else. Got it?”

Emma: “...........!”

Alter!Keith: “Emma.”

Emma: “...Yes?”

The strength in his grip sent Keith’s emotions pulsating through me painfully.

(It's only natural since I don’t have a weapon to protect myself.)

The sharp sounds of clashing swords echoed from all directions, growing more intense.

In a situation that felt like being thrown onto a battlefield, fear surged, and I forced strength into my trembling legs.

Alter!Keith: “These guys are no ordinary bandits.”

(Indeed. They’re matches for royal swordsmen... No, they might be even better.)

The way they continued to attack without flinching suggested they were quite skilled.

Even so, Keith took down each approaching opponent with sharp swordplay and physical prowess.

Shiou, deftly evading a bandit nearby, voiced his admiration.

Shiou: “Given that Kagari was his teacher, he has refined both his timing and sword handling.”

Alter!Keith: “...That’s too kind.”

Alter!Keith glanced around, throwing a look in my direction.

Alter!Keith: “It’s about time.”

Alter!Keith: “I’ll pull away the remaining ones near the carriage. In the meantime, Emma, you should get inside.”

Emma: “Okay, please!”

Shiou: “I’ll go with you. Having two targets is better than one, giving them a chance to choose.”

With a nod, Alter!Keith and Shiou took off running.

With relentless strikes, one by one, the bandits fell.

I surveyed the surroundings and confirmed that there was no danger before rushing towards the carriage.

Reaching for the handle of the door just nearby.

(Oh......)

Before I realized it, a bandit just in front of me had started to run.

Not towards me, but toward Shiou’s back—

(No! This can’t happen...!)

I threw the bottle I had taken out for the man's treatment.

The cork popped off, and the disinfectant inside spilled out, obscuring the attacker’s vision.

Man in black: “Damn it... You...!”

Emma: “…..!”

At the same moment the target shifted, a dagger was thrown at me.

(I can’t dodge this...!)

I braced myself, extending my arms in front of me against the straight-flying blade.

(Huh...?)

However, before the dagger reached me, it was knocked to the ground by another dagger flying from a different direction.

A dull sound followed, reaching my ears...

(What...?)

Suddenly, an overwhelming murderous intent pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

Alter!Keith: “You bastard... You’re aiming at the wrong person!”

(....)

When I looked up, I saw Keith lifting the arm of a fallen bandit and punching him in the stomach.

Man in black: “Guh... ah...”

Alter!Keith: “Hey, what are you trying to run away for?”

Alter!Keith: “...You tried to kill Emma. There’s no way I’m letting you go.”

Man in black: “Gah...!”

(This is... so one-sided.)

Even when the opponent’s sword broke, they didn’t stop attacking.

As the bandit struggled to escape, Keith grabbed him, raising his fist to tighten his grip around his neck.

The other bandits around sensed something was off and rushed toward Keith all at once, but...

Alter!Keith: “Don’t get in my way.”

With a voice that seemed to crawl along the ground, he decisively swept them aside.

Everyone present must have thought he was not someone they could defeat with sheer numbers.

I had never seen such chillingly cold eyes, nor had I witnessed anyone who continued attacking even after their opponent lost the will to fight.

A wild, fierce beast was right there.

Alter!Keith stomped on the back of a bandit trying to flee and raised his sword...

(No, don’t...)

Without hesitation, he swung it down.

Emma: “Please stop, Keith!”

Alter!Keith: “..........”

The tip of the sword stopped just before piercing the opponent's back.

All the strength drained from my body, leaving only my heart pounding violently from within.

(If I had been any later to raise my voice... just thinking about it makes me tremble.)

(Keith...)

My foot, which had been trying to step forward, remained frozen in fear, and I crumpled to the ground.

Keith rushed over and knelt in front of me. His golden eyes no longer held the boiling anger or sharpness. His large hand enveloped mine.

The trembling traveled through me, deepening the furrow in Keith's brow and giving his expression a sense of regret.

It felt like my heart was being squeezed in pain.

Alter!Keith: “...I’m sorry.”

Alter!Keith: “I didn’t mean for it to come to this...”

Alter!Keith: “...”

Alter!Keith: “The one hurting you more than anyone else is...”

Alter!Keith: “...me.”

(What...?)

Keith’s face twisted in pain as he looked at me again.

Keith: “Emma...?”

(Surprise!!)

(The kind-hearted Keith is back.)

(Why... No, right now, there’s something more important...)

As our gazes intersected, my heart began to pound in a different, unpleasant way.

(Those eyes... I thought I’d never see them again.)

Keith: “Emma, are you okay?!”

Emma: “? ...Yes. I’m okay.”

Keith: “Really? Did I... do something to you again...?”

Keith: “....”

Emma: “Keith?”

Keith: “...No, it’s nothing.”

Keith: “Um... Emma...?”

Keith: “I’m sorry... you’ve been supporting me, and I’ve caused you trouble.”

Emma: “It’s not a bother at all... I haven’t thought that.”

Keith: “...I... will again... hurt you...”

(I’m sure Keith...)

How many times have I seen the vacant eyes that seemed to wake from slumber, flickering with anxiety and fear?

When he recognized me, the face before me crumpled into a distressed expression, revealing a regret different from the mischievous Keith I knew.

(…! )

Suddenly, a shadow fell, and a bandit appeared behind Keith.

As I opened my mouth to scream at the sight of the sword raised to the heavens, the blade came down but the bandit fell to the ground before it could reach him.

By then, Keith had somehow gripped a sword in his hand.

The sounds of clashing swords that had been echoing around us came to a halt as Liam rushed over, looking flustered.

Looking around, I saw that the other bandits had been restrained by the swordsmen, and a sigh of relief escaped me knowing we were out of danger.

Liam: “Keith! Emma! Are you hurt?”

Keith: “I’m... fine.”

Keith: “How about you, Emma? Is there anywhere that hurts?”

Emma: “I’m also...”

A slight pain shot through my ankle.

(I might have lightly twisted it when I tried to rush over to Keith.)

What choice will you make?

Brush it off.

Honestly tell him.

Remain silent.

(Even if I brush it off, Keith will notice right away.)

(I don’t want to make him worry more. I should tell him properly.)

Emma: “It’s nothing serious. I just feel a little pain in my ankle.”

Keith: “Let me see.”

As I nodded, his large hand gently touched my ankle to check. A hint of hesitation seeped into his profile, and guilt pierced my chest.

(I’m awful for making Keith feel even more anxious...)

Emma: “We were attacked on the way to the port.”

Keith: “...I see.”

Keith: “...”

Keith: “Thank you for telling me, Emma.”

Keith: “...I’m sorry.”

Liam: “...”

His words and Liam’s silence were the answers.

A slight warmth of relief lit up in my heart.

(I’m really glad that at least one person knows about Keith’s current situation...)

Keith took out the first-aid supplies from my pouch and began to treat me skillfully...

Keith: “Let’s focus only on getting back safely for now.”

He cradled me gently as if handling something fragile and carried me to the carriage. The small smile that appeared at his lips seemed to hide complex emotions.

Shiou took charge of dealing with the captured bandits, and we hurried toward the Kuga territory.

While traveling, there was an underlying tension that we might be attacked again, but more than that, Keith occupied most of my thoughts.

(I wonder if he’ll be back soon...)

Keith left the guest room to inform Kagari about the attack, and I waited alone for his return.

Looking at the door for what felt like the umpteenth time, the silence remained unbroken, and no footsteps echoed.

I looked at the bandages wrapped around my ankle.

After we returned to the castle, Keith had carried me to the guest room in a gentle embrace and treated my injuries with care.

(He was apologizing then too... I wonder what that "sorry" was for.)

I plopped onto the bed.

The coolness of the sheets, rather than offering comfort, stirred up the rough emotions lurking deep within my heart.

Keith: “Thank you for telling me, Emma.”

Keith: “...I’m sorry.”

I understand that those words are the answer, yet I'm still hesitating.

(Really, is it okay to ask?)

(The discomfort I felt toward Keith and the others was not my imagination.)

It became clear due to this unexpected event of the ambush.

(I believe Keith didn’t intend to hide it.)

I glanced at the first drawer of the cabinet in the room.

Inside was a notebook that Keith had started to carry again.

I didn’t know what was written in it.

(But surely...)

If he truly meant to share, he would have considered the opportunity to do so.

(If that’s the case, it might be better not to ask anything while I’m in Kougyoku.)

(…)

(...It feels like I’m just making excuses.)

I had felt a nagging sense in my heart several times before, swallowing my words each time.

While I wanted to respect Keith’s feelings, I couldn’t help but think I was just running away.

(Oh….)

Suddenly, a faint sound of footsteps broke through the painful silence of the guest room.

The door slowly opened, and Keith smiled as he looked at me.

Even though I had been looking forward to this moment, my heartbeat surged unexpectedly.

Keith: “Emma, I’m back.”

Emma: “Welcome back, Keith.”

As I stood up from the bed and walked toward him, at that moment—

Emma: “Whoa...”

A small pain shot through my ankle, causing my body to wobble forward.

I instinctively put my hands out in front of me, but Keith rushed over and caught me firmly.

Keith: “—Are you okay?”

Emma: “Thank you. I forgot about the pain in my ankle.”

Keith: “That’s proof you’ve been resting well.”

Keith: “While I was waiting, did anything trouble you?”

Emma: “There wasn't anything.”

Keith: “...I’m glad to hear that.”

Emma: “How was your talk with Kagari?”

Keith: “She didn’t seem particularly surprised. But she did say she’d strengthen the castle’s security just in case.”

Keith: “And she said she’d bring dorayaki to visit tomorrow.”

Emma: “I feel really sorry for causing concern, but I’m a little looking forward to the dorayaki.”

The smiles we exchanged were modest and somewhat awkward.

(Both Keith and I are easy to read.)

He gently sat me down on the bed, checking for my injuries, and quietly kneeled in front of me.

His large hand touched my ankle gently.

Keith: “How’s the pain?”

Emma: “Thanks to your treatment, it’s calmed down.”

Emma: “By tomorrow, it should be completely healed.”

Keith: “You’re quite confident.”

Emma: “It's my own body, after all.”

Keith: “That’s true... but I’d still like you to make me worry until it’s fully healed.”

Keith: “...Otherwise, I won’t be able to relax.”

For a moment, a narrow line appeared on his forehead.

When our gazes intertwined again, I found myself in Keith's arms.

The tranquility that filled the room seemed to reflect the hesitation in silence...

(……I never wanted to see this face, regardless of the reason.)

As the warmth faded, what I saw was a face filled with deep regret.

Even the mere hint of him desperately trying to hide it made my heart hurt even more.

Keith: “Emma—”

(I don’t want to hear what comes next.)

I cupped both of Keith's cheeks with my hands and brought my face closer—

[pinky-the-bunny]

Tea party. Ft. Ink sans made by comyet

"thank you again for having me for this tea party. But may I ask...why did you invite me here? Don't you usually not invite people here?"

The strange skeleton picks up his coffee and drinks it, enjoying the taste as he looks at ink with a 'sweet' smile.

"Why should there be a reason? I just wanted to talk to one of my sons is all."

"Oh? Am I your favourite or something?" Ink says that with a bit of a chuckle.

The strange skeleton stares at him without a word for a few seconds before ink laughs a bit.

"I'm just joking around, john doe. I still find it flattering how you chose ME instead of someone else. Don't you like dust sans a lot?"

"I do...but he doesn't really like me so, it would be kind of awkward for me to ask him. You're much more nicer...to a fault."

"How so?"

"You're talking to a murderer."

"Fair point."

Ink takes a sip of his tea. It was golden flower. He guesses john doe took that from undynes place for this tea party. John doe spoke up after a few minutes of silence.

"How's the tea by the way? I'm not really a fan myself and i didn't have any back home."

"Its good, too bad for the human though. They would've loved this."

John doe stays silent. They both stay silent until ink asks john doe a question.

"How was your day, john doe?"

John doe started to smile even wider.

"it was great. I had a talk with my outbound sons. It was nice. :)"

Ink sanses eyes shined.

"I LOVE THOSE GUYS! they are so fun to be around."

"Yeah. They are."

"is it okay if I ask you another question?"

"Of course, son."

"Is it true you're waiting for someone to kill you?"

John doe stays silent after that question for a few minutes, than he simply answers:

"Yes"

"Why is that? Not a lot of people want to be killed by someone."

"I don't want to be killed just by anybody, I want to be killed by my own son."

Ink is quiet as john doe speaks more.

"Ever since the first time I've met the " bad sanses", I've been fascinated by the idea of being killed by a sans. Maybe even a papyrus. Its... an odd thought to have I will admit, but its almost poetic justice to me. I killed "them", they kill me."

Ink says nothing.

"I know, its a bit hard to say what I mean. But I don't think it needs to make sense. I am a bit mad in the head ever since I took over sanses body."

"I see..." Ink simply says, and they go back to drinking their tea and coffee.

"son... Since you asked me some questions, can I ask you one?"

"Sure! Go ahead."

"What do you think of me?"

"Oh! Wow, really?"

"Sorry, is it a hard question to answer?"

"No, I'll answer. Its just...not a lot of people like my answer."

"I understand."

Ink puts down his tea and breaths in and out slowly, before he answers john doe's question.

"I see you as a character. A drawing or a line of texts in a story. Every move you do, every dialogue you say in your speech, that's just how your character is written to say or do to me. Now don't get me wrong, you are certainly a piece of work. A father who possess one of his children and kills everyone else because they forgot of his existence is...fascinating to me. Especially with how you seem to be friends with people you casually threaten, all the while you kill other sanses and papyrus just because you felt like it. Even if it is rare. You're definitely an interesting one, John doe."

John doe goes silent again, looking at his reflection in the coffee and looks back at ink.

"What a grey view you have, ink. But I don't blame you at all. Because to me..."

He leans over towards ink, smiling very wide as he speaks in a low tone.

"You're just a clone of my dead son to me. :)"

Ink laughs at that.

"I guess our views are both horrible, huh?"

John doe sits back down on his chair.

"Maybe. But it makes us Interesting like you said, right?"

"Yeah"

They than continue on with their tea party, eating snacks and drinking coffee and tea like two casual friends.

John doe takes a biscuit from a tray and hands it to ink with a smile.

"Want one, son? :)"

[stellaclaw]

boiling hot take but i literally dont give a fuck that mapleshade let the clan believe her kits were birchfaces. her clanmates can be mad but exiling a queen and her kits is fucking deranged i dont care what lie she told. “she deserved what she got” her kids deserved to die because their mom fibbed??😭 her kids deserved to die because their mom did crimes LATER???😭😭 “um but she chose to cross the river” if i was orpheus i would simply not turn around.

[quadrantadvisor]

Hey. I don't know anything about comics and I've only ever read random sporadic issues/storylines, so don't listen to anything that I have to say. But I think there was a Joker storyline recently in which there were two Jokers and one of them killed the other, bringing into question whether the current Joker is the original or someone else, and whether or not that distinction even matters when the Joker still exists.

The funniest thing to do at this point (not that I would want to happen or think would or could happen, but what I think would be FUNNY,) is if the Joker got redeemed. A gradual 100% face turn, just changes his mind and becomes a generally nice and helpful dude. And only THEN reveals that he is definitely a different guy from the original Joker.

What I enjoy about this is that it means that Jason and Bruce are simultaneously both right. Was the Joker an irredeemable monster who deserved to die? Yup! The guy who killed Jason was absolutely that and it's a good thing this other guy killed him. Can even the worst person imaginable change their ways, meaning that empathy and life are always the moral choice? Yes! Even the Joker can realize how wrong he was and recover. Both perspectives get irrefutable proof of their legitimacy. Bruce and Jason's relationship has never been worse.

[zhelin-thames]

After the Summoning Incident: Justice League Debrief

part 1, part 2

The Justice League meeting chamber was quiet. Too quiet.

The heroes sat around the massive conference table, some looking contemplative, others still processing the absolute chaos that had just unfolded. The Batkids had scattered to their usual perches, some smirking, others—like Damian—still scowling.

Batman, as usual, sat at the head of the table, his expression unreadable.

Superman was the first to break the silence. “Well… that was unexpected.”

Wonder Woman nodded, arms crossed. “The boy was not at all what we prepared for. He is young, brash, and clearly still learning. And yet, he succeeded.”

“Barely,” Damian muttered under his breath.

Jason grinned. “I don’t know, Demon Brat, I think he did pretty damn well. Didn’t even die or anything.”

“He’s already half-dead,” Damian shot back.

“That’s semantics,” Jason said with a shrug.

Constantine, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, finally spoke up. “Right, so here’s what we learned, then: the summoning worked, but not the way we expected. We didn’t get the Ghost King. We got the heir to the Ghost King.”

Flash leaned forward, confused. “Okay, but why does that matter? He still fixed the problem.”

“Because,” Batman said, voice low, “we summoned him by name—meaning he’s significant enough that the magic acknowledged him, despite him not being the ruler of the Ghost Zone.”

Zatanna frowned. “That shouldn’t have happened unless his claim to the throne is strong. Which means…”

“He’s important,” Constantine finished grimly. “And probably more powerful than even he knows.”

There was a pause.

Superman, ever the optimist, offered, “Well, he did seem responsible, considering he handled the situation without any casualties.”

Aquaman, who had remained silent for most of the discussion, finally spoke. “That is all well and good, but what concerns me is his guardian.”

The League collectively tensed at the mention of Pariah Dark.

Hawkgirl leaned back in her chair, frowning. “Yeah. Not every day you meet a giant ghost warlord who decides world domination is off the table because he’s got a new kid to dote on.”

“The real question,” Green Lantern said, “is why Pariah Dark, of all beings, chose him as his son.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Batman said. “Pariah Dark isn’t just a ruler. He’s a conqueror. The fact that he’s abandoned his previous goals simply because he’s taken a liking to this ‘Danny’ suggests a level of attachment that is… dangerous.”

“I dunno,” Flash said, tapping his fingers against the table. “The guy seemed weirdly soft on the kid. Like, full-on ‘overprotective dad ready to murder anyone who sneezes at his son’ levels of doting.”

Jason snorted. “Can you blame him? The kid’s hilarious.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “That does not negate the potential threat.”

“Which leads to our next problem,” Constantine interrupted. He gestured vaguely toward the space where the summoning circle had been. “That was the third time he’s been summoned this week.”

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “Three times?”

Constantine nodded. “From what I could gather, idiot cultists all over the place have been trying to summon the ‘Ghost King’ for centuries. Problem is, it hasn’t worked in millennia—until now. Which means something’s changed.”

Green Arrow leaned forward. “And you think it’s because of him?”

Constantine sighed. “Has to be. That kid might not be the Ghost King, but he’s enough of a power in the Zone to be dragged here through the same ritual.”

Superman frowned. “So you’re saying if people keep summoning him…”

“…Eventually, someone’s going to do it with bad intentions,” Batman finished.

There was another heavy silence.

“I say we keep an eye on him,” Wonder Woman said. “Not as an enemy, but as a potential ally. He may not trust us now, but if he is being targeted, he’ll need protection.”

Jason chuckled. “Good luck with that. Kid was practically begging to be sent home before his chem test.”

Hawkgirl smirked. “I still can’t believe that was his biggest problem tonight.”

“Teenagers,” Flash said, shaking his head.

Batman didn’t react to the lighthearted remarks. Instead, he turned to Constantine. “Can we track future summonings?”

Constantine exhaled a long breath, rubbing his temple. “Not easily. The magic is old, and the Ghost Zone doesn’t follow the same rules as our realm. But…” He glanced at Zatanna. “With enough prep, we might be able to set up a countermeasure. Or at least a warning system.”

“We should also determine how much control he actually has,” Aquaman said. “If he is an heir, his powers may be growing. We should be aware of what he’s capable of.”

Jason grinned. “So what, we’re gonna test his power levels? Let me know how that goes when Pariah shows up ready to throw hands.”

Batman stood, effectively ending the conversation. “For now, we’ll observe from a distance. If he truly is being targeted, we may need to act sooner rather than later.”

“And if Pariah Dark takes offense to that?” Zatanna asked.

Batman’s expression darkened. “…Then we prepare for war.”

Meanwhile, Back in Amity Park…

Danny groaned as he flopped onto his bed, exhausted beyond belief. “I hate magic,” he mumbled into his pillow.

Jazz, standing in the doorway with crossed arms, raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?”

“The worst,” Danny groaned, turning onto his back. “I got summoned by the Justice League—AGAIN. And Pariah nearly destroyed them before I could talk him down.”

Jazz sighed. “That’s, what, the third time this week?”

“Yes!” Danny threw up his hands. “I swear, if one more idiot cult tries to yank me across dimensions, I’m going to scream.”

Jazz smirked. “And then what?”

Danny scowled. “…Then Pariah will probably destroy another dimension out of spite, because apparently, he thinks I’m too stressed for a ‘mortal child.’”

Jazz chuckled. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

Danny groaned again, grabbing his pillow and shoving it over his face. “I hate everything.”

Jazz patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Welcome to adulthood, little brother.”

Danny just let out a long, muffled scream into his pillow.

[miyukisu]

A Trace of Body Paint .ᐟ

❤︎ Request | He's learning anatomy for his art class—you'll help him, right? 3.1k wc ╰ feat. artist!shidou ryusei (bllk) x afab!reader

tags - lots of tension and build up at first, p*rn with plot, college au, artist! shidou, he and reader are both experienced, FILTHY, dirty talk, unprotected smeggs, rough smeggs, face f*cking, creampies, overstim, no y/n, not beta read

MEGA MASTERLIST

minors do not interact

"Yeah! I'll see you next week for my next assignment. Okay?"

Yeah right... next week...

You didn't peg Shidou as the type to flake on you, especially since he was the one who needed something from you. At first, you gave him the benefit of the doubt, then your mind wandered to impossible territory.

Maybe he found a different person to model for him.

Maybe you weren't good enough a model and he was getting low marks because of you...

But wouldn't that be his fault?

Maybe... he dropped out of class?

Every possibility crossed your mind, but not once did you think of actually asking him, "Hey, what's up with not calling me anymore to model for your art class? You know... THE THING WE DO WEEKLY?"

But pride does get the best of us. You are no different. Either the world ends or he grovels at your feet for ghosting you like that. Anyway, why did you care so much?

Shidou Ryusei only asked you to model for him for a few weeks for an art course he was taking. It just so happens you two were close and your schedules matched (and he thought you were really pretty). In exchange, he'd treat you after every drawing session. Ordinary stuff—that was until you slowly started to develop feelings for him.

There was something about the way he looked at you as he studied every minute detail—making sure they were all transferred to paper. He made you feel so... beautiful in ways you've never realized before. But most of all, you fell for such a creative and passionate spirit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts upon spotting a familiar hairdo across the quad. Your eyes met and you made sure not to waste this opportunity—glaring at him, making sure he knew how much he had pissed you off. Shidou looked left and right, possibly trying to find a way out of it. But maybe the intensity in your eyes worked because before you knew it—he was making his way to you.

"Hey..."

"Really? That's all you have to say after ignoring the texts I sent last week?"

"Eh... must've missed them," he lied.

"What about the time you saw me near your building? You missed me standing a meter away from you?"

"Guess so," he lied again.

His nonchalance made you want to rip your hair out. This hot-and-cold treatment was driving you up the wall. It was clear with the exasperated look on your face.

Though, his eyes never left yours—those same damn eyes that stared at you for hours. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't.

"Why did you even walk over here?"

He sighed like he didn't gave a shit. "You looked like you were about to murder me."

"Shouldn't you be running away then?" you countered. Shidou simply shrugged. "I'm not sure either."

You were about to unleash your fury, but he sighed loudly before continuing. "Fuck... fine. I've been avoiding you."

"Yes. I can clearly see that. The question is—why?"

"Look. I've been getting the highest scores in class because I have the luxury to have an actual person model for me... while everyone else relies on references on the internet or whatever," he explains. "But now... it's..."

"Isn't that a good thing then?" you asked—confused by his reasoning, but even more confused by his change in demeanor.

He shook his head. "Nah... it's just... I won't be needing you anymore."

Your jaw dropped. He said it so casually like it didn't just left a gaping hole in your chest.

"I mean," he backtracked. "We're gonna start drawing nude figures soon, so either you're willing to strip for me or—"

You cut him off. "Are you gonna draw my face with it?"

"Eh, all I need to draw now is the body since we're done with portraits and—"

You cut him off again. "Then draw me."

"Wha—" Shidou was cut off once more. "You heard me. Draw me," you say, as if challenging him.

It earns a hearty laugh from him—one you haven't heard in a while. "You're saying you're gonna stand butt naked in front of me while I stare at you for an hour or two? You know how that sounds, right?"

"It sounds like you're gonna stare at me butt naked for an hour or two."

You were so shameless, he thought. But it was one of the many things he liked about you. He chuckled, amused by the way things turned. Well... what kind of artist would he be to turn down such an enticing muse?

Shidou let out a low whistle as soon as the last article of clothing met the floor. You used to do these drawing sessions in the library—when all he had to observe from you were innocent things like your eyes, your hands, your hair, and so on.

But now that you have to bare everything to him, you figured the only place to do it was at his dorm. It was like what you imagined: cluttered but artsy enough that you could let it pass.

You stood awkwardly in the middle, feeling a bit chilly with nothing to protect you. But you posed, placing a hand on your hip while looking off to the side. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward eye contact.

Shidou sat down on a stool and quickly got to drawing. He said nothing as his eyes constantly flitted between the paper and your body.

The first few minutes in—you became hyperaware of everything. The fact that he was seeing absolutely everything. The absurdity of this entire situation. But most of all, the way your body was reacting to his gaze.

From your peripheral, you could see his gaze linger a bit too long at times. He'd bite his lower lip every so often and it made you feel conscious. Was he doing that because he could see your nipples hardening due to the temperature? Maybe he noticed the way you'd subtly rub your thighs together?

Whatever it was—it had him clearing his throat and shifting in his seat, seemingly uncomfortable.

Around 15 minutes pass, until he finally spoke. "Feeling tired yet?" he asked without looking up from his paper. You figured he was applying the final touches at this point.

"Yeah. A bit."

He hummed in response. "Get comfortable on my bed then."

"What? On your bed? Now?"

Shidou looked up from his paper. At this point both of you were desensitized by your nakedness (or so you thought). "Yes. Now. I have to draw you in at least 3 poses."

Three?

You gulped. But, once more, pride creeps up. You can't just challenge him to draw you naked so boldly—only for you to back down now. You gathered yourself and sat on his bed which was only a few steps away.

"Go on. You can get comfortable," he encouraged.

So you did. You lied down on your side, propping your head up on your hand. The scene that had unfolded reminded you of that one Titanic scene: Rose sprawled out for Jack to draw.

Knowing that, the moment felt too intimate. But you sucked it up... even though there was an unwanted wetness forming at your core.

Shidou shifted in his seat again, lowering his paper on his lap. "Alright, keep that position," he said, a bit strained.

In this position, you couldn't look off to the side. Your only option for the next few minutes was the wall behind him or Shidou himself.

At some point, your eyes met. There was something in his eyes you've never seen before. It wasn't the usual focus he had; it was something else. Something more intense.

But the 2nd pose passes soon enough and you were down to your last.

"What should I do now?"

He sighed, looking over his current sketches. "Lemme think. I'm having a hard time getting the details right."

"Maybe it's because you're sitting so far away," you commented—not thinking about what it implied.

His eyes zeroed in on you again—caught by your words. You want him to come closer with you like that and him slowly losing his composure? You were playing a dangerous game and you had no idea yet.

Shidou finally stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination, but he was hard. His length strained against his fitted pants. The sight had your mouth watering.

He sat down beside you, eyes never leaving yours. The atmosphere seemed charged with the way you two found yourselves slowly leaning into each other.

"You look great," he whispered. It was something he always said in these sessions. It was a rather simple compliment. But it held more weight now.

"Thanks," you meekly responded. Neither of you realized how fast he inched towards you. His lips were a breath away. You showed no signs of backing away, so he went in.

He pressed his lips on to yours. The kiss felt hungry—needy almost—like he was fighting off this urge for so long. Before you knew it, his weight pushed you down on the softness of his bed. His scent enveloped every sense, clouding your judgement.

Shidou pulled away, breathless. "Pose like this."

He sat upright, eyes raking over your body. This time, he didn't hide the way his gaze would linger on certain parts. His hands ran down your legs, admiring the softness of your skin.

Then, without warning, he pried your legs open. But you didn't stop him. His pink irises trailed down to your core, seeing how wet you've gotten. Shidou thought he was drooling.

"Fuck... I wish I could draw this."

You feel your chest tightening. "Why not?"

"And let everyone see this?" his fingers ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh. "No chance in hell. I want to be the only one to appreciate my muse."

He let his thumb swipe through your folds softly before pressing lightly into your clit, earning a mewl from you. He kept circling the sensitive nub as if in a trance.

"I know what I want the last pose to be," he says. You moan a little louder as he rubs your clit faster. "Want your last pose to be you all fucked out... think you can do that?"

Words got caught in your throat. But it hardly mattered. It didn't seem like he'd take 'no' for an answer anyway.

Things escalated quickly because you soon found his finger plunging in and out of your quivering hole. He made sure to curve it in a way—relentlessly hitting that gummy spot on your walls.

He added another finger, wanting to hear more of your breathless moans reverberating throughout his room. To hell with it if his neighbors heard. This was music—it was art in its purest form.

"Shit... might just cum in my pants from this." He almost did after you clenched down on his fingers, cumming for the first time today.

Even as you coat his digits with your essence, he keeps pushing his fingers in and out until the fluttering died down a bit. He pulled his sticky fingers out before having a taste, savoring every last bit.

He made quick work of his belt, pulling down his pants and letting his member out. Your eyes widened. Not only was his size impressive, but his tip was incredibly swollen and leaky—like he couldn't wait anymore.

Shidou exhaled deeply, feeling the chill of his room brush over the sensitive length. He locked eyes with you again. "Care to take care of me a bit? My hand hurts from all that drawing... and... well, you know what else."

Normally, you'd bite back at his teasing. But your mind was fuzzy. All you could do was wrap your fingers around his length, slowly tugging it at first. The pleasure he felt after being so hard for so long took the strength from him. He almost fell on top of you if it weren't for his thick arms supporting him from either side of you.

"C'mon... do it fucking faster," he ordered. You obeyed—jerking him off as fast as you can without hurting him. It wasn't long before his own hand wrapped around yours as he continued to fuck into your fist. Next thing you knew—hot ropes of cum painted your stomach.

Even he was in a daze as he observed a part of him stained you in such an intimate way. He slowly leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "Hey, can I paint you like this? You look even better with my cum all over you."

You let go of his semi-hard member, slowly tracing his muscles up until you cupped his cheek. Gently, you pulled him down for a searing kiss. It was more than enough for him to know that you too wanted more.

He became rougher—biting your lip and fighting your tongue for dominance. As you pulled away for air, Shidou moved quickly to straddle your upper body. He shamelessly took his cock and slapped it against your lips a couple of times.

"Gonna have to help me get hard again, sweets. Help me out, won't you?"

Though he didn't really give you time to respond as he invaded your mouth inch by inch. One hand held the headboard while the other supported your head. He rolled his hips slowly, gauging how much you can take in at a time.

But, clearly, he underestimated you when you gripped his hips and pulled him in yourself. You felt his cock spring back to life steadily. He pulled out his hardened shaft, letting you breathe. It was only now you realized the grin that crossed his face. He was enjoying this way too much.

He went back to hovering over you, his cock bouncing at every move he made. Your body was jelly at this point—not even a bit of resistance as he flipped you over so easily. He licked a long stripe from your lower back up until your nape. The fresh saliva combined with the chilly air made you shudder.

He carelessly lifted up your hips. With your cheek pressed into his pillows and your ass up in the air, he only got harder at the sight. He leaned down to be eye-to-eye with this so-called masterpiece, your cunt.

His nimble fingers toyed around with your soaked folds, chuckling to himself. "Man, I don't think I could ever capture something so damn beautiful."

He gave it a quick lick to test. "Well, unless you let me get familiar with her long enough." Another lick. "Maybe I can capture at least half of its beauty." Another lick. "Don't you think?"

A muffled sound was the only thing he got from you. "Yeah? You're gonna let me get to know her? As an artist, I'm overjoyed right now. Maybe I should show you."

And show he did.

He lapped up at your arousal, tongue licking long stripes each time. Your legs threatened to give out every time he flattened the pink muscle against your twitching hole. It didn't take long before he started darting in and out. Helpless groans filled his small dorm room.

Big calloused hands squeezed the flesh of your ass, making sure you stayed in place for him to enjoy. He was so messy... so so messy. Shidou suckled on your clit—really trying to coax another orgasm from you.

It didn't take much more for you to cum again, but this time all over his mouth. He happily took in everything, reaping the fruits of his labor.

He gave your ass one quick kiss as if to show his thanks. But he wasted no time lining up his painfully erect cock against your entrance. "Fuuuuck, I need to be inside you already or I'm actually going to explode," he muttered.

At first, it was just the tip. But it stretched you out so good already. The needy whine that escaped you was a testament to that. It only made him grip your hips tighter, surely leaving a mark for you to see tomorrow. Carefully, he pushed in more of his length, feeling every bump of your pussy engulf him.

"Shit. This is the stuff."

But he got impatient, shoving in the rest of his length without warning. It was so tight, so warm—too inviting for him to handle. His hands left your hips, opting to find support on the mattress instead. His thick arms caged you as his chest pressed against your back.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things in your ear, kissing your neck occasionally. But for as slow and sensual his voice may seem, his hips snapped with reckless abandon. He wasn't shy about giving you your third and, maybe, fourth orgasm of the day while chasing his own.

"You finally understand why I didn't want to ask you?"

"Yeah... I knew I was gonna end up fucking you real hard."

"But this is so much better than what I imagined."

His words brought you over the edge, cumming again. But the overstimulation rendered you thoughtless. The only thing on your mind was how good he was dicking you down.

"Fuck... Ryu!" you screamed. His grin only grew wider.

"That's it. Scream my fucking name. Let them hear it."

Your wanton moans encouraged him to go faster, mercilessly pistoning into you. It wouldn't be a surprise if you came another time on his cock.

Shidou harshly grabbed your tit, hoisting both of you up into a sitting position. This way, his cock reached even deeper into you. He kneaded your neglected breast while keeping you steady by the waist.

He showed no signs of slowing—even reaching down to play with your clit. A tear was rolling down your face from how sensitive he made you. But he quickly licked the salty tear off of the curve of your cheek.

He whispered softly, "Cum with me."

Just like the obedient muse that you were, you did. You clamped down on him as he shot rope after rope of gooey seed into you. Finally, he slowed down a bit, letting him empty himself in your pulsing cunt.

As you calmed down and he softened, he gently laid you back down on the soft mattress of his bed. He watched as his cum oozed out of you, smirking to himself.

"My best piece of work yet."

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note WHAT THE FUCK DID I WRITE DAWG I WAS SO ON EDGE THE WHOLE TIME HELP WHY IS IT SO FILTHY

[fiercynn]

okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

[teeskzagain]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sweet, sweet dreams

• in which your brother’s perverted friend decides to help you out one night.

• warnings: pervy! wooyoung (like really) dry humping, somnophilia, (wooyoung finishing inside his pants and on you) light slut shaming. lowkey delusional woo.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

wooyoung repeats over and over, quietly under his breath as his grip around you intensifies. fuck, he knows this is wrong. so damn wrong. if you were to wake up and find him in such a compromising position, he just knew you would scream bloody murder.

you. his best friend’s little sister. the girl who never put up with his teasing and sure as hell was never afraid to hit back harder with insults. the girl who could hold her own against her older brother and himself when needed to. and now, the one who’s getting humped into oblivion by a clingy, insatiable wooyoung.

he hadn’t meant for this to happen. he just wanted to see if you’d been up this late, maybe pick on you a bit with a few crude jokes. after yunho clocked out on him, the poor boy had been left bored with nothing to do. so naturally his mind began to wander off, and onto you.

it started off as a simple jester, curiosity even. upon entering your room (he had knock but there wasn’t a reply) wooyoung was met instantly with a sleepy version of you, curled up within your blankets as your leg draped above the fuzzy material. well, there goes that plan. of course you and your brother had similar sleeping habits, how annoying. now what was he supposed to do?

he raked his gaze over your slumped body. a part of him could admire this peaceful stature. no crass remarks departing from you, no rude gestures to indicate some sort of annoyance towards him. you simply just laid, unmoving and silent. and if he really allowed himself to trail off in thought, maybe he could even see just how cute you were. but, that’s dangerous thinking.

a slight shake to the head broke his concentration and soon he realized it’s getting a bit creepy the way he’s standing at your door frame watching you. better if he left now, before anyone could call him the sorts. right as he turned to go, rustling from a far causes him to freeze, followed by a low groan.

“no, no, i…”

hardly any motion to him, wooyoung peered over his shoulder and slightly above a whisper he called out to you, “y/n-ah, you okay?”

but there wasn’t reply. at least, not a decipherable one. you continued to mumble softly amongst yourself, head swiping back and forth leisurely before speaking up once more.

“mmrgh.…come here.” your last word was breathy and it makes his body stiffen. did you know he was in here? had he accidentally waken you up?

another airy moan leaves your lips, “stay…”

“hey, what are you saying?” without thinking, he stalks up towards the bed, ready to make eye contact with a present body, yet to his surprise your eyes remained shut and still. you had moved around some more, shifting your torso away from him and darting out a knee. mumbling out over and over, ‘stay’.

wooyoung stumbled back in disbelief. are you dreaming right now? could you somehow feel his presence despite whatever deep slumber you were currently in? and here you were asking for someone to stay. were you…..speaking to him?

more movements from you caused him to look down at you, watching as you further arched your back as a means of getting comfortable. he knew he shouldn’t. but in a quick motion does his focus drop down to your round ass currently out for him to see. he didn’t let himself enjoy the view for much longer, with wooyoung snapping out of his minor trance quickly.

what is he supposed to do now?

as perplexed as wooyoung is, his question was swiftly answered as he noticed your body started to shiver and little hicks were produced. mini mews filled his ears and the once idled, unmoving y/n he previously admired stirred to life, yet you were still absolutely completely asleep. begging someone to stay with you.

“you little-” he half-muttered, immediately lowering himself to the vacant side of your bed, “and you still manage to get your way even when sleeping, insane.” it wasn’t long before wooyoung wiggled himself closer towards you, all in the hopes of fulfilling whatever it is that you were yearning for, and at the moment contact was made, you wasted no time in stretching your back against him. you two fit together perfectly, like connecting puzzle pieces.

he slung an arm over you, which over time caused your shivers to go down, after a while your mutters disappeared back into silence, and soon you had been at peace just as you were before. wooyoung had done enough. embraced what he needed to, helped out like he meant for. just like how any good, determined friend would when aiding their friend’s little sister.

but, goddamn, he really couldn’t help himself.

if anything, why did you have to wear such skimpy, tight shorts to bed. ones that were practically glued to your ass and outlined every, single, detail. nothing was hidden, not even your plush, thick pussy lips that he could feel just barely hovering over his crotch. it drove him mad.

so, what started off as a slow graze of his hips ~ he just wanted to cop a little feel and nothing more ~ turned to a subtle rocking. subtle rocking, however, soon became not so subtle, his rhythm picking up gradually until-

“all your fucking fault,” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut to fully bask in the pleasure of feeling your clothed body slam hard against his clothed cock. his wrapped arms around your torso provides good security as he buries his head deeper into your shoulder, “had to go and make me so horny, ah-!”

you shifted once more in your sleep which caused one of his thrusts to land right onto your cunt, sending a delicious buzz soaring throughout his body. he can’t stop at this point. no, he won’t. he’s too far gone to even think about ending this euphoric scene. his head is jumbled, but only with the harsh thoughts of getting off. the needy, and desperate kind.

one of his legs swing over yours, changing the angle at where his bulge reaches. he’s grinding hard against your backside. the kind of grinding that only a dog in a panting heat would do, “just had to tell me to stay, huh?”

he’s utterly aroused. pre-cum dribbles from his tip and seeps through his underwear and his shorts, spreading disgustingly around his pelvis. it fuels him more. knowing that his remains are being discarded onto you, marking you of someone sort. he loves this.

“you secretly wanted this, yeah?” voice muffled, he lifts his head to mutter lowly into your ear now, “such a needy slut for your brother’s friend. letting me fuck you with my clothes on like this, what the hell y/n-ah?” streaks of his leftovers coat your ass, the sounds of his bucks now squishy and squelching into the air.

it all starts to become too much for him. the running tingles shooting through his vein, the overwhelming sensation of knowing that it’s you that got him to this point, all of it leaves him a moaning mess. he doesn’t even care for the repercussions at this point, he’s just desperate to let out all of his sticky load and cover you.

your cunt collides with his erection in a way that makes his head spin in pleasure. the continuous bouncing now causing his eyes to flutter gently as they roll back. your thick flesh of ass hitting his crotch over and over and over again. a guttural sigh escapes him.

“think i’m gonna….” he ruts faster and deeper into you, fully succumbing to the temptation, “fuck, you’re about to make me me cum, y/n-ah.”

and at last, with the biggest force of probably all night, does he drive his hips and hold your ass to him, oozing wet cum from his pants. he keeps the two of in that position as he grunts out the full length of his semen onto your ass, groaning and mewling during it all, till eventually there’s nothing left to empty. it all remains on you.

but even then, not once do you awaken during the session.

no. it’s not until the next day, eyes blinking slowly awake to an empty bed, in which you even register the weird soreness from your behind. the sour smell wafting below your nose which causes you to scrunch it up. and the most telling detail, feeling the remnants of something damp stuck on your shorts.

then after putting these facts all together do you sit up in your bed and close your eyes in irritation. he had been at it again.

fucking, wooyoung.

[neeeooon]

Hi, can you do like blue lock jealous headcanons? with karasu, ness and whoever else u want idm!

Thank youu💗💗💗

i tend to mix and confuse “jealousy” and “possessive/protectiveness” so i’m sorry if this is repetitive with my stalker hc, but thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy! 💗

when they’re jealous ;

jealous bf bllk x gn!reader

karasu tabito

-> of all the players on team blue lock, karasu knew he shouldn’t waste his time feeling jealous of otoya. and yet watching the boy flirt shamelessly with you made his blood boil

-> you seemed pretty guarded as he smirked at you, keeping your arms tight to your chest

-> karasu was going to let it go, knowing you could take care of yourself if you felt uncomfortable, but then otoya decided to show you one of his ninja moves. specifically, the one where he presses a hand against the wall beside your head, and karasu is on his feet

-> you shove otoya’s hand away before he can caress your cheek right as karasu presses a hand against his chest, pushing him off of you. when otoya catches the murderous look in his teammate’s eye, he scrambles off

-> “why did you wait to push him off?” karasu doesn’t know why he’s asking. he knows you and otoya are friends, but his stomach twists with jealousy

-> you can’t smile as you gingerly take your boyfriend’s hand in yours. “he was only messing around, and when he got too close, i made sure he knew it. you don’t have to doubt me, honey.”

-> “it’s not you i don’t trust. it’s him.” but now he’s sulking as he glares at otoya, and you’re able to giggle a bit. “you’re so cute when you’re jealous~”

alexis ness

-> ness wishes his mind didn’t assault him as he watched you interact with other people. other guys. who were taller and stronger and more confident than him. you didn’t agree with any of that, but ness’s mind didn’t know that

-> to make matters worse: you’re a sweetheart. it’s one of the things ness loves most about you, but he sees how your innocent kindness can look to others sometimes, and the way it makes them look at you

-> “oh, wow! i love your shirt! it’s a great color on you,” you complimented the cashier as you and ness check out. the cashier, obviously seeing that you’re together, simply smiled and thanked you back

-> but the damage is done. ness is second guessing his outfit. his colors. his entire wardrobe. why didn’t you love his shirt? was it not a good color? did you think—

-> “ness?” your soft voice broke him from his destructive thoughts, and ness feels sick with envy. he hates jet, but he knows he can’t keep it from you. “i-is there something wrong with my shirt..?”

-> and you melt. “aw, baby! are you jealous? don’t worry, i love you and your shirt more than anyone i compliment. i promise!” and ness smiles, because he believes you 100%

itoshi rin

-> rin hates that he’s jealous of his teammates. he hates feeling lower than them, but more than anything, he hates the way they make your face light up with laughter

-> he watches as your eyes crinkle at something bachira said, how you playfully shove isagi when he says something next

-> rin doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s stalking over to you, his hand wrapping tight around your wrist, and pulling you away from the boys. “rin, wh—“ but his grip tightens and your words faulter

-> he pulls you into an empty locker room before releasing you, and you throw your arms over your chest. “what the hell? we were just talking—“ “you were laughing.”

-> you blink. “so? am i not allowed to laugh?” “not at something they say,” rin mumbles out, leaning heavily against the door and dropping his head so that his bangs shield his eyes.

-> but you get it now. “you’re jealous,” you say, and it’s not a question. rin doesn’t defend himself, which only confirms your suspicion. so, you step forward and take his face between your hands

-> “it’s okay to be jealous, love, but don’t let it trick you into thinking i’m not happy or don’t love you. got it?” “i’m sorry.” “don’t be sorry! come on, join and laugh with us.” “… fine.”

michael kaiser

-> envy is a sin, and kaiser is feeling pretty sinful as he watches you interact with your male friend while waiting to pick you up

-> he lets you talk and laugh for a good ten seconds before blaring on the horn, causing you and your friend to jump in surprise. you smile when you see kaiser’s car, but he doesn’t return the look through his windshield

-> “are you okay?” you ask as you climb into the car, immediately sensing his tension. kaiser gives a curt nod. “mhm.” “you don’t seem okay..?” “i’m fine, y/n.”

-> you don’t push and let him have his moment until he pulls in front of your house. sighing, you sink into the passenger seat cushions. “i’m not leaving until you tell me what’s bothering you. you know i hate when you go quiet on me…”

-> he does. tightening his grip around the steering wheel, kaiser finally looks at you. “who was that guy you were laughing with? must be some comedian, the way you were gasping for air.”

-> “you mean shidou? my friend? cause that’s all he is: a friend.” you put heavy emphasis into the word friend when you realize kaiser is jealous. he has no reason to be, but you can’t say that since he can’t relate when he doesn’t have many friends

-> “yeah. that guy.” “baby, come on, don’t be like that… he was telling me a funny story about his boyfriend.” kaiser blinks. “boyfriend?” “yes.” “he’s gay?” “yes.” “so… he isn’t interested in you? romantically?“ you try so hard not to laugh and your jealous boyfriend. “no. he isn’t interested into me romantically.” “oh, thank god.”

[zairaalbereo]

“Please don’t do this.”

So after binging the whole four seasons of Black Sails last month, I’m now on a more leisurely rewatch… or so I thought.

But god everything hits so much worse or better or harder knowing about Flint’s past and motivation now. And then this scene came up, and I’m just… fuuuuuck. Crying, screaming, throwing up. I’m not okay. This is devastating. (Did I mention I cope with art?)

On my first watch, Flint killing Gates truly shocked me. He would really kill his friend just because he wouldn’t go along with his plans? To not have to give up on the Urca? Sure, Gates is going against his command. It’s mutiny, but Gates seems to be trying, and he sounds so bloody reasonable. And more importantly, he’s been a loyal friend up until now. A fatherly friend (I want to throw up). And even now he’s… trying to protect Flint, right? (Fuck. Seriously. Feeling ill.)

But yeah, I was shocked. And as he whispered broken apologies to the friend he just murdered, I wondered… could I forgive him for this?

And now…omg now it’s like watching a completely different train wreck happening, and it all makes perfect, tragic, horrible sense. The way the whole scene mirrors James McGraw’s futile attempt to convince Hennessy of their Hail Mary plan to save Nassau. Every step. The urgency when things have already gone sideways, but James refuses to give up, because it can still work. People just have to listen. Let him explain. Have a little faith. Back then he trusted Hennessy, and now he still trusts Gates. He trusts them to understand, asking them to believe in him. He doesn’t see it coming. (How does he not see it coming this time?)

And then the moment the floor is ripped out from under him. And it’s all there, on Flint’s face, in the moment when Gates says “They know.” It’s not the mutiny. It’s the betrayal. The way Flint’s face falls, and for a moment he looks just like James McGraw in Hennessy’s office. The same devastation and disbelief when he asks “You told them?” And of course for him it is the same betrayal. It is the same fight, to prove Thomas right. To stand against those who took him and everything else away from James.

And Gates, that poor bastard, doesn’t even understand what sin he is committing. He doesn’t even see it as mutiny. He sees it as doing the right thing, containing a madman. (Omggg…) And then there is Flint, reliving the worst moments of his life. And that point it doesn’t feel like it’s about the Urca anymore. It’s an emotional massacre, to which Gates seems completely oblivious. When Flint asks if he will see him get hanged, only to be promised an opportunity to flee for him and ‘Mrs Barlow’, Gates thinks he is doing him a kindness. Like Hennessy probably thought he was doing him a kindness, saving him from the gallows. It’s all right. Flint just has to leave, vanish and never be heard of again. He should be grateful. And the way Flint’s eyes close briefly in disbelief that this is happening. Again. The way he pleads with Gates, just like he pleaded with Hennessy. So unlike Flint. But once more he is told that his actions are unforgivable. Simply too much. He’s not just rejected, but he is abandoned. He is cast out for who he is and his supposed sins. A monster that can’t be allowed to exist amongst the rest of them.

The whole scene is executed so brilliantly, the way he fluctuates between James’ almost innocent appeals to be understood and Flint’s anger at being denied. But he keeps trying until the last moment. And then, when he acts, it’s not a calculated move. It’s pure desperation, the only purpose to do something, to stop what is happening. Because James McGraw didn’t. But where James McGraw hesitated, where he maybe still hoped, still didn’t comprehend, and where he still thought he had something to lose… Flint doesn’t. And yet we can see it break him. We can see how it breaks another part of his soul. 

(And of course it will happen again. Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.)

[wrystia]

cut that!! spencer agnew x fem!reader (fluff/est. relationship) wc: 932

   "welcome back, we are playing the classic clue game. but the catch is that one of us is the killer and must try to throw the others off from figuring out who it is, what they used, and what room they did it in..." you start off the video, fixing your bowtie and straightening your glasses, "i'm your host professor plum and welcome to my classroom."

  "that was so corny holy shit," angela immediately exclaims, laughing as she lowers her head off to the side, making sure she doesn't hit the table. 

 it was either the way her laugh echoes through the room or the absolute exhaustion that you were feeling from the busy week but you broke out in laughter as well. you look to your coworkers who are also holding back laughter and running their hands down their faces. “i’m never introducing a video ever again,” you shake your head against the games table, laugh subsiding.

  “i don’t know i thought it was pretty good.”

  “you’d think anything was good spencer, you literally tried to get me to say ‘and what room they did it in.. and by ‘it’, i mean… murder’. like that isn’t even cornier,” you look over at him, knee pressing against his under the table.

  he smiles widely at the comment, looking back at you with a similar getup to yours. however, his suit is less fashionable than yours (and considerably more green). his glasses even crooked in a way that makes you want to correct them like you would do any other way. fingers grappling at the temples and fixing them just before pulling him in a kiss. however, you restrain yourself, simply shaking your head.

  “that’s actually true, i saw them writing it with the pencil in the editor’s room,” shayne brings his fingers together, dressed like wadsworth, his usual smirk lining his lips. 

  you shake your head lightly, trying to take in the absolutely insanity that the room has become. none of you were running on enough sleep, filming nearly everyday that week and then finishing off today with a long shoot. you try to keep your composure, but the lack of sleep was getting to your head. “thank you for the info, wadsworth… but how about we start with our first guess, mrs. white. use your bob and roll that dice,” you set them in front of angela.

  the following rounds went rather easily, gathering information from the different sources. your paper was mostly filled out with information that would either screw you over or could win the game. looking up from your paper, you scan each of their faces, watching as shayne rolls again. “okay, so i’m in the kitchen. i’d like to make my guess. it was professor plum in the living room with the rope,” he looks over at you, grabbing the small envelope.

  making eye contact with shayne, you feel your lips curling into a smile of success. pursing your lips you hide it and wait for him to look at the cards. as he pulls them out he keeps his eye contact with you, only looking down when the cards are all out. much to your knowledge, he was completely wrong on the murderer part. “i called it initially! i got completely thrown off,” he stuffs them back into the envelope, tossing it back towards the game board.

  “well it seems we have had our first false accusation and our first power outage?” you joke, watching as one of the crew members turns off the lights.

  as shayne situates a knife under his armpit, you can see fake blood on the handle and the blade. looking back towards spencer, you give him a soft smile, grabbing his hand under the table. “if you were the murderer you wouldn’t kill me, right?” you whisper, leaning back into your seat, raising your eyebrows.

  “no promises babe, but i would kill you last, if that’s any consolation,” he whispers back, knowing all of this will be cut for time.

  his eyes roll within the darkness, something you can only tell by the whites of his eyes. however, his thumb also rubs along the back of your palm, a soothing motion that comes to a slow start as someone counts down to continuing. pulling your hand back to the table, you sit up. the light flickers on and there sits shayne slumped in his seat. the knife sticks out, as well as his tongue. 

  angela immediately starts to giggle as she notices his tongue sticking out. it absolutely breaks the immersion but you can’t help but join in in her laughter. shayne lifts his head up from his seat, furrowing his eyebrows. “really? i die and you all start laughing, feels especially cold because i know who killed me.”

  “hey, you tried to make accusations and the killer got scared, honestly i think that’s your own fault.”

  “wow, victim blaming babe, that’s real mature of you,” spencer casuals calls you out, accidentally using one of the many pet names you share. looking at him with wide eyes, you immediately look back at the camera, hand doing a striking motion at your neck.

  “cut that!! you’re ridiculous,” you shake your head, bringing your hands up to rest your face in.

  the crew and ‘talent’ already knew about your relationship, and you’ve done this plenty of times. but there’s still something so special about being able to be playful and still keep it between you. so, while you’d love to tell the world, you’ve said ‘cut that’ more times than you can count. 

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams

suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.

that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)

marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.

“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”

“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”

“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”

“you had a cult too.”

“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”

“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”

“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”

“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”

“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”

“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”

“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”

you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.

“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.

“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”

“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”

“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.

“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.

“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”

“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”

“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.

“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”

“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”

“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”

“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.

you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”

“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.

you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”

“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”

you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.

it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”

“you took the kids too,” you remind him.

“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”

“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.

“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”

“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”

“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”

“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”

he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.

“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”

hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad

[oh-phoenixx]

"Sort" - Jegulus microfic (Trans!Reggie) @into-the-jeggyverse - 533 words

-

Sometimes, Regulus’s anger incapacitated him. He could not breathe, could not think. The rage overcame him, made him want to cry or scream or hit something. It was indescribable, ineffable, there were no words for the way it made him feel. This was one of those times.

Regulus had been working on his essay for a week. Normally, he could have written it in two hours. But there was far too much going on, everything seemed louder than usual, and he felt as though his brain was working so, so slowly. So, after working on this essay for a week, he felt a small, relieved sense of triumph to finally have it completed. This feeling was not long-lived, however, as Sirius came bounding over, James in tow, and accidentally knocked over Regulus’s inkwell, causing it to spill all over his essay. Regulus was not sure whether to cry, scream, or murder Sirius. Correction, he was sure he would do all three, he simply did not know in which order to do them.

“Shit, Reg, sorry,” Sirius apologised with a sheepish grin.

James, seemingly sensing Regulus’s homicidal fantasies, moved between the brothers and grabbed Regulus’s hand and the essay, moving them far away from Sirius and into his dorm.

“I’ve been working on that for a week,” Regulus shouted as he was being pulled away. At first, it was filled with anger, but the moment he and James were behind closed doors, Regulus collapsed into him, tears spilling as he mumbled, “I’ve been writing that for a week.”

James put the ink-soaked essay down on his bed-side table and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling Regulus into his lap. “I’ve got you, angel,” he said softly.

“It took me a whole fucking week to write an essay,” Regulus whispered, voice filled with anguish. “I’m going to fucking kill Sirius.”

At first, the anger was all directed at his brother. Regulus wanted to do unspeakable things to him, wanted to tear him apart. Then, he just felt hatred. Towards himself, more than anyone else. Regulus had never taken so long to complete an assignment. He felt so useless.

“We’ll sort it out, love,” James assured. “It’ll be okay. We can rewrite it.”

“I have to hand it in tomorrow,” Regulus mumbled, wanting, more than anything, to cuddle up to his boyfriend and sleep, maybe for the rest of eternity.

“Then I’ll write it for you. Won’t be as good as your one, but at least you’ll have something.” James’s hand moved under Regulus’s shirt and stroked his back comfortingly.

They ended up under the covers, Regulus’s head buried in James’s shoulder, as though trying to hide from the world, trying to hide this from James. Regulus winced and gripped James’s shirt tightly.

“What’s wrong?” James asked, because of course he had to notice, and of course he had to care.

“‘M on my period,” Regulus murmured, disdain heavy in his voice.

James didn’t say anything else, but kissed Regulus’s head and pulled him closer, promising that it would all work out fine. If it had been anyone else, Regulus would not have believed a word. But it was James, and it was enough.

[evilminji]

Dani should Kidnap The Clones.

It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!

*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*

Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!

Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.

Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.

They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.

But also?

Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.

And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?

.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?

"....Free Clone Baby?"

Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?

Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.

Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.

Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?

Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?

Damian.

He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?

He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.

Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.

And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!

In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!

....what are they arguing about?

*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*

See you in a few days!

(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*

Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.

And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*

Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.

Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<

*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[sirhamburrger]

and some roommates (don't worry, we're cool!)

a/n: thinking silly thoughts today... having sae itoshi and ryusei shidou as roommates while getting involved with rin itoshi… (unrealistic since they'd both probably be really rich by the end of bllk, whenever that is, or adulthood) for the purpose of this drabble please pretend they are two broke boys 🙏

wc: 739 || tags: all characters are 18+, gn!reader, reader is in uni, situationship ryusae once again putting the bl in blue lock, background rin x reader, 700 words of domestic crack and more || header from bllk manga

(continued here in my christmas miniseries, more rin x reader centric)

it all begins when you're looking for an apartment in downtown tokyo. but since you can't afford one of your own at the moment, you're looking to see if anyone could use another roommate to split rent with.

and after days of scouring the internet, you find a promising place. clean, well-furnished, spacious - but there's already a couple living together in it...

oh well. the more the better. 

so you show up at their door after a couple of text messages exchanged with one of the very enthusiastic co-tenants, hoping to get a better look at the place. you ring the bell. no response. you try again. and again. maybe they're out -

“shidou, will you just get the damn door already?”

oh. okay.

the door finally swings open, and you're greeted by a tall, tan-skinned and vaguely familiar-looking man with a terrifying grin. you take a step back, a little shocked, but he just beams at you.

“you're the one who's been messaging me about the apartment, aren’tcha? come on in!”

he loops an arm around your shoulder, introducing himself as he walks you in. he's ryusei shidou, a member of the national football team who played in an exhibition match a few years back (which explains why you find him so familiar).

“so, uh…” you shudder slightly when shidou fixes his gaze on you. “where's your girlfriend? or, uh, boyfriend, i guess. partner. i should probably meet them.”

and it's at this moment that you abandon your inital thoughts of finding another place because sae freaking itoshi steps into the kitchen??

you think you might just faint. 

“o-oh my gosh, sae,” you stammer,  “it's an honour to meet you –”

he stares at you blankly, then at shidou with murderous intent in his eyes.

“who is this?”

“i'm not, like, a side chick or anything,” you quickly clarify, but shidou simply grins.

“we need someone to split rent with, and-”

“and i thought i would just check your place out, seeing as i'm in the same boat,” you finish. “but you two, as a couple, should probably discuss this. you know what? i can wait outside-"

“wait,” sae says slowly, pure, unadulterated disgust in his eyes. “he told you we're a couple?”

shidou's face falls. "we're not?"

and that's the story of how you move in with two men around your age who have some weird dynamic going on that you don't question.

japan's talented young midfielder is a great roommate (then again, you did go into this with no expectations whatsoever). he does the dishes when he's supposed to, takes the heavier bags off your hands during grocery runs with you, stays quiet after ten pm. he makes breakfast for you and shidou in the mornings, and teaches you about football.

ryusei shidou, though... oh, you get why sae's so sick of him now.

he takes the most massive dumps in the bathroom and doesn't flush. or put the seat back up after he's done. or turn the tap off properly. (he's flooded the sink before.) speaking of sinks, he leaves his dirty dishes in the sink. sometimes you want to tear his diabolical dye job off his scalp. sae informs you he has has tried just that and failed to do so.

but he does make you laugh a lot with his jokes and antics.

"one thing you should know about genius sae-chan is that he loves back hugs." "please don't speak for me."

and the two of you absolutely love making fun of sae's attempts to properly reconcile with his brother. you'll be peering over at his phone screen, ryusei on his right and you on his left, as he types out something about lunch plans tomorrow.

"you spelled 'restaurant' wrong for a second there."

ryusei dodges the pillow that comes flying at his face.

they've known each other for longer than you've known them, but they tell you things they wouldn't ever tell the other. like when ryusei quietly admitted to you one night, that despite all his careless flirting, he does really want to be with sae, in a more-than-friends kind of way. or like when sae told you in confidence that he secretly likes ryusei's back hugs.

and when against all odds, a certain green-haired boy in your lectures starts talking to you, you shudder to think that you now have something in common with ryusei - being deeply obsessed with an itoshi sibling.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[darkbluekies]

God i want a dark!dr.kry fic soo bad. I read your most recent silas fic and I thought it was so good i ATE IT UP

Things you shouldn't see

Doctor!yandere x reader Summary: you've finally realized what type of man Dr Kry is, and what he is capable of doing. Warnings: murder, bruises, yandere, poison etc. Word count: 2.3k

Your crying hurts him, it really does, but he can’t be soft. Not now. You had tried to escape again. If he hadn’t come back in time to catch you in the door, God knows what could have happened to you. 

“Please, please don’t”, you sob as he cuffs your wrists to the bed’s railing with belt-looking leather. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Spare your voice, Y/N”, he tells you sharply. “Begging and pleading won’t work — you're not a child. You put yourself in this situation, didn’t you? How about we take some adult consequences?” He fixes the last buckle. “Too tight?”

You don't answer, you only cry. Dr Kry grabs your chin softly to direct your attention back to him. 

“Y/N, listen to me”, he says sternly. “Are the restraints too tight? Yes or no? Don’t lie.”

“No”, you sob. 

“Good. You know why I’m doing this, right? I don’t think it’s funny.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop with the bullshit, Y/N. I caught you in the damn door, Y/N.” He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his blonde hair. “I can’t let this slip. You almost escaped from me once, remember? I’m not letting that happen again. I’m going to go get you dinner and you are going to get yourself together until I’m back, okay?”

You nod slightly. When he's exited the room, you break out into sobs again. Have to get them out of your system before he returns. You hate him. Hate him so much.

He's back ten minutes later with two cardboard boxes filled with food. He looks somewhat pleased that you're not crying anymore. He stands by his desk.

“You don't understand that I want what's best for you”, Dr Kry says while opening the plastic lids. “If you did, you wouldn't try to do stupid stuff like this.”

“Turn it off”, you say through gritted teeth.

He glances at the air purifier, already knowing what you’re talking about.

“No, I will not”, he says simply. 

“You're killing me!”

Dr Kry scoffs and dumps your foodbox on your legs.

“If I wanted you dead, Y/N, you'd already be in the mortuary”, he says and rolls over to you on his stool. “But as you can tell by your current status in your room, I don't.”

He picks up the fork and holds a bite of potato to your lips. You refuse to open your mouth. 

“Are we doing this?” he asks with raised eyebrows. “Do I need to be mean?”

“Please don’t”, you whisper, scared. 

“You don’t want me to be mean?”

You shake your head quickly. 

“Good, me neither”, Dr Kry says. “Glad that we can agree on something. Open your mouth now.”

You open your mouth enough for him to put in the fork in your mouth. Dr Kry notices how you fight back the tears and sighs in defeat. 

“If you really want to cry, then do it”, he says quietly. 

It’s a trick. He actually doesn’t want you to cry, and you know that. But the tear that runs down your cheek can’t be brought back. You flinch when his hand brushes against your cheek to wipe it softly. He holds another fork of potato and meat to your mouth. You grimace slightly. 

“Just eat and you’ll get to sleep”, Dr Kry promises you.

“Turn it off”, you whisper. “Please.”

Dr Kry sighs and walks over to the air purifier, turning it off. The soft buzzing finally, finally stopped. Dr Kry can tell that you relax in your restraints. 

“Thank you”, you whisper without looking at him. 

“I’ll have to turn it on again”, he says. 

“Why?” 

“Because it keeps you where I want you. It’s much easier than keeping you cuffed to the bed like this.”

You tug at the restraints, as if you suddenly remember that you’re wearing them. Dr Kry’s hand shoots out over your right wrist. 

“Stop”, he says. “Don’t do that. I don’t like to see bruises on you. Just let it be. Give in, alright?”

You glance down at his large hand and grow cold. Could he break your wrist? Could he actually hurt you if he really wanted to? Without tools, without medicine and drugs?

“Open your mouth”, Dr Kry and removes his hand to give you the fork full of food. 

This time, you open your mouth without fuss. He smiles, pleased.

“Have I fucked up for myself now?” you mumble without looking at him.

“Just a tad bit”, Dr Kry smiles and wipes some sauce of your lips with his thumb. “But it's nothing that we can't restore.”

She had seen it, and although she tried to convince herself that she was overthinking, she couldn't bring herself to admit that everything was okay with Dr Kry’s patient — or Dr Kry for that matter. There has always been something with him that has rubbed her the wrong way. He's always been polite and helpful, but she thinks that it's a facade. There is something he's hiding, she can tell that there's a certain darkness in his eyes. And the fact that they never see, hear or get any reports about his patient — despite being here for so long — worries her.

One day, she decides to sneak inside. You’re lying in the hospital bed, sleeping soundly. But other than that, the room is empty. The woman notices how your wrists are … cuffed to the side of the bed. She sneaks over to you and carefully shakes your shoulder. You open your eyes slowly, and then dart them open. In pure fear, you start to tug at the restraints. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the woman shrieks. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“Who are you?!” you gasp. “Where’s Dr Kry?!”

“I don’t know, please be quiet, I’m not going to hurt you.”

You eventually start to calm down. 

“Why are you cuffed to the bed?” the woman asks carefully, feeling a shiver run down her spine. “What has he done to you?”

“Please help me”, you beg. 

“I saw that you tried to leave the room before … and that he snatched you back.”

“I-I will.”

“Please help me, I’m begging you, he’s killing me!” you nod at the air purifier. “He’s poisoned it! You have to help me!”

She is just about to unbuckle the leather strands keeping you to the bed when the door opens. You meet eyes with Dr Kry and feel how your entire body goes numb. 

Shit.

His eyes glare at the woman as he slowly closes the door behind him, locking it shut. 

“Can I help you?” he asks coldly. “What are you doing with my patient?”

The woman spins around and stutters in fear. 

“Who allowed you to come in here?” Dr Kry asks, sounding suspicious — and extremely angry, although he tries to hide it. “Speak up!”

“I-I …”, the woman stutters. 

Dr Kry walks closer. You’ve never seen his body language this … territorial before. It’s almost animalistic. 

“What have they told you?” he asks the woman. 

“Nothing!” the woman shrieks. 

With one quick glance at you, he scoffs with a small, cold smile on his face. 

“I wouldn’t believe anything they say, ma’am”, he says amusedly, although you’re sure that he’s angry like a bee. “They’re sick, they’re not thinking clearly. Seems like we have to talk after this.”

“Don’t be angry at them”, the woman says, finally collecting herself. “You are the one abusing your position. You should be the one who’s getting yelled at!”

“Oh, I’m not mad at my patient. How could I? If they don’t know what’s good for themselves, how could I ever expect them to know when to speak …” He gave you a warning look, “... and when to shut up?” He looked back at the woman. “They’re sick, after all.”

“Why are you keeping them prisoner?”

Dr Kry puts his hands into his pockets, shrugging. “I’m not keeping anyone prisoner. Did they tell you that?”

“You’ve poisoned the air purifier.”

“Why would I ever do that?” he laughs. “That’s absurd! You don’t think I have other things to do? A real job?” He takes a step closer. He’s almost reaching her by now. “Listen, my patient has been reading a lot of fantasy stories while being emitted here, and they must have spun their head out of control. Being in a hospital for as long as they have, all alone, must mess with ones head a bit. Don’t worry about it.”

He has slammed it over the nurse’s head, striking her to the floor. You fight against the restraints, but they’re as stuck as stone. Dr Kry continues to hit the poor nurse with the metal pipe, causing blood to splatter over the walls — and you. You can’t breathe when the red liquid lands on your face, too horrified to even move. The screams from the woman turns into moans of pain, then sobs, then silence. Dr Kry huffs and gets up from the ground, letting go of the metal pipe that clinks against the floor. His white coat and blue overalls are drenched in blood, and his face is covered in red. You’re shivering in your bed and meet his eyes with wide open eyes. 

Dr Kry walks over to his desk. You can tell how he picks up a metal pipe used for the IV-stand you use every now and then.

“No!” you scream, but it’s too late. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t want you to see that”, he pants lowly. 

Sobs start to exit your body. Dr Kry hurries over to you, sinking down on his knees by the bed, almost lying his upper body into yours. 

“I’m sorry, little one”, he whispers and cups your cheeks. 

“Don’t touch me!” you try to scream while doing your best to turn your head away, but his strong grip is forcing you to stay still, forces you to look at him. 

“I didn’t want you to see that”, he repeats. “Why did she have to come and but into our business, hm? Oh, please don’t blame yourself for her death. It’s not your fault.”

He notices how you’re trying to rip your head away from him. 

“I know that you’re afraid”, he says. “It was not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, I could never blame you, you know that.” He wipes your tears. “Please, don’t cry. I’m not going to do it again.”

You’re unsure if you’ve ever sobbed this harshly before in your life. The cries ripple through your body, forcing your chest to lift with every sob. It hurts, like an unwelcomed workout. Dr Kry holds your face against his chest, hushing as he hugs your head close to him. You can feel how fast his heart is beating, and it makes you nauseous. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up”, Dr Kry says and unbuckles you. 

You hesitate getting out of bed, glancing careful down at the dead body bleeding out on the floor. Dr Kry hurries to pick you up in his arms and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him and places you down in the tub. Carefully, he removes your hospital gown and turns on the shower. You refuse to look his way. 

“Listen, Y/N”, he says and sinks down outside the tub. “There are things you shouldn’t see … and this was one of them. I don’t want you to think of me as a monster. I’m a realist, okay?”

“Is that what you’re going to do to me if I try to leave again?” you cry. 

“No! Don’t even say such nonsense. That’s absurd. How could you ever think that?”

You find it ironic that he grows offended. He starts to wash off the blood from your face with the gentle stream of the shower. 

He takes one of your wrists in hand and lets his thumb run over the deep mark from the leather. 

“I told you not to fight against it”, he whispers with a sigh. “We’ll have to put bandage on that.”

Dr Kry continues to wash the blood off of you and his own hands. You follow the red water down the drain. 

He puts the shower head back on the hanger and tells you to wait there until he comes back. You hug your knees close to your chest and watch how he disappears out of the bathroom. You can hear how he starts to clean up the body outside the closed door. This is what happens to the people who believe you. Those that trust Dr Kry’s words about you being too sick to function, and start to hallucinate, are no help … but those that are never get far enough. 

You shiver from cold air hitting your wet, naked body and bring your knees even closer to you. There’s a new form of silence in the room, a silence that eats you up from the inside … and yet, silence had never been this loud before. You would be able to hear a needle drop to the floor on the other side of the hospital.

It had taken wells to gather the courage to try to run away again, and it had been shattered in the moment of two seconds. Your hope had been sparked again when you saw the nurse, and knew that she was one of the few that actually believed you. 

You turn your face down into your knees and cry in realization that you’ll never get to leave the hospital as long as Dr Kry is around. In time, the poisoned air purifier will have killed you … but you’re unsure that you’ll get to leave the hospital even then.

I’m going to die.