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danceworshipper · 4 months ago

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In the Shadow of Sebastian

Alexis and Ominis come to terms with the knowledge that Sebastian has gone too far off the deep end after killing his uncle, and make one of the easiest, yet most difficult decisions they've ever had to make. Alexis/Ominis, pre-ship. Hints of one sided Alexis/Sebastian and Ominis/Sebastian. Set immediately before The Choice at the end of Sebastian's quest line. Useful context: Alexis is a werewolf and an unwilling soldier for the Minister

It was cold in the Undercroft where they sat defeated, resting their backs against the stone wall and letting the chill soak through their robes. Cold, and still, and silent.

Alexis was grateful that Sebastian had left them alone. To hear anyone's heartbeat but Ominis' right now would have been too much. His, even, was testing her nerves, but at least Ominis' heart was slow and strong. Sebastian's hadn't stopped beating irregularly ever since he'd cast that blasted spell.

That heartbeat proved what Alexis already suspected: Sebastian was gone. Not physically, not really, but he was gone. He was a shadow of himself.

Broken.

Your first real kill hit you hard, as she had learned all too soon upon becoming a witch. Killing someone you knew was so much worse than killing a nameless enemy, or a dastardly foe who had earned it through wicked deeds. The adrenaline alone was enough to have you coming down for hours, but the guilt... Solomon Sallow had deserved a lot of things, but not this, and somewhere Sebastian knew it. He made a mistake that he couldn't take back. Now Anne, his one tether to sanity, was unwilling to be found, and he was lost.

Alexis never should have helped him.

"Ominis."

"Yes?" His voice was made rough from the tears she was kindly ignoring.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be."

Alexis let her head hang. Ominis had warned her that this was going too far, and she hadn't listened. She hadn't even listened to Anne. Weren't Anne's wishes the only ones that should matter in a situation like this? Just because Alexis would never stop trying to cure herself didn't mean that that was what everyone would want.

"I understand, though," Ominis continued. "I'm to be blamed as well. I never put my foot down the way I should have. Salazar, we share a dorm room and I never even thought to check his belongings. I knew what he was doing; I simply couldn't deny him."

"He has that effect on you too?"

Ominis huffed, amused but deflated. "Has it not been obvious?"

It hadn't been, though Alexis couldn't truthfully say she'd ever thought about it - ever considered that maybe Ominis gave in too easily for someone as against the Dark Arts as he was. Now it was easy to see. Hindsight was always clear.

No, Alexis had never paid much attention to Ominis' actions, because she'd been far too concerned with her own.

I could teach you, Sebastian had said, three different times, and Alexis had said yes each time despite seeing what havoc the curses could wreak. Something about how he'd offered, so eager to have someone who understood the pull toward Dark Magic, had had her tracing the wand movements he showed her, greedy for his approval.

Eventually she would have learned them anyway, she supposed. Minister Spavin had plans for her. The dark creature, wielding the Dark Arts like no other could. She would never be locked in Azkaban for murder - so long as it was no one the Minister cared for.

Knowing that didn't make it better. In fact, she was certain it made everything worse.

Ominis inhaled shakily. "Aren't you supposed to be convincing me that we mustn't tell anyone what he's done?"

"I told him I would," Alexis said.

She turned her eyes toward him. His head was gently inclined toward her, but his eyes were downcast as he wiped at them. They didn't even work, yet they showed despair as well as anyone else's. Oddly, Alexis found it pretty.

"Well?"

She swallowed and remained silent. Sebastian had begged her, saying that Ominis listens to you. I don't know why, but he does. Yes, Ominis did listen to her, and that was a large part of the problem. Alexis knew without a doubt that if she said that Sebastian should walk free, he would. But did he deserve to?

It wasn't fair for him to be punished when she never would be. But...

"He won't stop," she said noncommittally. "He'll never stop until Anne is either cured or dead."

Ominis laughed, bitter. "Even when she's dead, he'll never stop."

He was probably right. Death be damned: Anne would know no peace.

"If only you could have seen the madness in his eyes, Ominis. I don't think I've ever been more frightened of him."

"Of him? Not for him?"

Alexis winced - of course Ominis had caught her slip. She sighed, and shook her head out of habit, though she knew he couldn't see. "No," she said, like a confession. "Of him."

Silence fell again. Alexis squeezed her eyes shut. Her clothes felt restrictive all of a sudden. She felt trapped, like she was back at the Ministry being held down. The blasted gloves were buzzing, stronger and stronger, responding to her distress and forcing her magic to freeze in her veins, and she reminded herself to breathe in, hold it, and breathe out, until the buzzing stopped.

That was the difference between her and Sebastian, she supposed. Self control had been beaten into her. Never would she cast a curse like that on impulse. Sebastian had proved he had no control whatsoever.

"You know," Ominis said slowly, "I'm not feeling very convinced."

In spite of the situation, Alexis choked on a shocked laugh. "I'm not making a good case, am I?" she asked.

The smile on his face was painful to look at with how close it was to breaking. If only she could fix it.

"You aren't," Ominis agreed. His voice cracked.

"I'm not sure there's any helping him," Alexis said, sobering. "If he never stops, who's to say he doesn't get worse? What if he hurts someone else? What if one day, he decides that if he kills her and reanimates her, she'll be cured?"

Ominis shook his head. "He'll get worse. I'm sure of it."

"Then we have to turn him in," she said, wishing she could convince herself otherwise.

"They'll throw him in Azkaban, Alexis," Ominis protested weakly. "He's close enough to adulthood that they'll do it. You've been to Azkaban, haven't you? Even if they give him a lighter sentence because of his youth, Sebastian will never be himself again, you know that."

Her visit to Azkaban with Helen Thistlewood had been a maximum of thirty minutes, but Alexis had felt that she'd never be the same - and she hadn't been the one behind bars. It had made her ironically grateful for her own imprisonment deep in the Ministry, with horrible people rather than Dementors. But that old woman in Azkaban had been innocent. Sebastian was not.

"We have to," she said again, and hated herself for it.

Ominis' head thunked against the stone. "I know," he whispered. His eyes squeezed shut - Alexis wondered if the pressure felt grounding or if blocking things out was simply a human instinct.

Whichever it was, she followed suit, pressing her knuckles against her eyelids until she saw stars and then having to yank them away, because the stars were a beautiful green that had crackled at the tip of Sebastian's wand for one long, long moment after he'd dropped it. It was a green that might be woven deep into her own soul by now, never to be cleansed.

"I should be in Azkaban too," Alexis said softly.

Ominis made a noise of distress. "Absolutely not."

"I've killed too."

"You've killed horrible people, Alexis, and you didn't do it of your own free will."

"The noble thing to do would be to refuse," she argued. "That's what Natty says."

"And be put to death?" Ominis exclaimed. "No. You should never be at fault for protecting yourself."

Alexis felt the corner of her mouth twitch, and she couldn't stop herself from pushing her luck. "The same logic doesn't apply to you, I see."

She turned her head to look at him. He knew, of course, what she was referring to. His mouth opened as though he wished to argue, but shut again. How could he? If there was no blame on her, there could be no blame on him.

Could they use the same logic with Sebastian?

Alexis desperately wished they could. If there had been a single sliver of worry that Solomon would have killed one of them first... but no. He had attacked them, hurt them badly, but she knew deep in her heart that he would have stopped when they fell. Getting them expelled and ruining their lives wasn't enough to deserve death. Even if it was, now Anne, cursed and miserable, had no one. That alone made the curse truly unforgivable.

The only instance that could be justified was the Cruciatus, since if Sebastian hadn't cast it in the Scriptorium, they all would have starved to death. Self preservation: simple, easy. The Imperius could have been justified under better circumstances, but Sebastian's logic had been flawed. He'd had ample time to react. He could have used any other spell to save Anne, but he hadn't.

I had to, he'd said.

You wanted to, she'd thought, but agreed with him anyway, because that was what friends did, wasn't it? Supported them in public to criticize them in private? She'd just never had the time until it was too late.

Ominis sobbed beside her, burying his face into his legs and shaking.

Alexis' heart ached. Before she could wonder whether he'd want to be touched, her hand was on his shoulder. He cried harder, leaning closer, and though Alexis was about to break too, she pulled him close to her and held him.

"He was my best friend," Ominis said miserably. The use of past tense sounded like the slamming of a cell door.

"I know," Alexis said.

By the end of the day, Sebastian would be taken away. It was over.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #alexis hornstagle #ominis gaunt x mc #my writing #alexinis #four freaks universe #first real writing for legacy and it's angst who would have guessed #blah blah they're sad SEND HIS ASS TO JAIL #they may love him but I don't asakjdkaf

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got-into-worm-by-mistake · 4 months ago

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Agitation 3.3 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

“No,” Brian intoned, “Such a bad idea.”

Awww, but isn't that a villain rite of passage?

(Yes, yes, I've read like 17 versions of the fic scenes where they point out it's a bad idea, all probably derived from this chapter)

“Come on,” Lisa wheedled, “It’s a rite of passage for dastardly criminals like us.”

Lisa. You're the Undersiders. Right now, you guys are anything but 'cool' and dastardly is reserved for 'cool' villains.

“Robbing a bank is moronic. We’ve been over this,” Brian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “You know what the average haul is for hitting a bank?” Lisa paused, “Twenty thou?” “Exactly. It’s not millions like you see people getting away with in the movies. Banks don’t keep a lot of loose cash on hand, so we’d be pulling in less than we would for most other jobs

Okay, yes, Banks don't keep a lot of loose cash, but really? Only twenty thousand? That's a lot of armored trucks going in and out every day then or something.

“We won because we picked our battles. We wouldn’t have that option if we were cooped up in the bank and waiting for them to come to us, letting them decide how and where the fight happened.”

Brian, you're talking to Rachel, who I believe is the physical embodiment of this tumblr post:

I’d almost forgotten I was a part of the discussion. The last thing I wanted was to rob a bank. Hostages could get hurt. The fact that it would potentially put me on the front page of the paper wasn’t a high point, either, if I ever wanted to drop the supervillain ruse and become a hero in good standing. I ventured, “I think Brian makes a good case. It seems reckless.”

Come on Taylor! You know you wanna just cut loose! :P :rofl: (Jk)

“Figure that’s happening in the middle of the school day, and they won’t all be able to slip away to stop a robbery without drawing attention. People know the Wards are attending Arcadia, they just don’t know who they are. So everyone’s constantly watching for that. Since they can’t have all six or seven of the same kids disappear from class every time the Wards go off to foil a crime without giving away the show, chances are good that we’d go up against a couple of their strongest members, or one of the strongest with a group of the ones with less amazing powers. We can beat them.”

And if a certain overstressed healer hadn't been there to make a withdrawal, this probably would have been fine.

That, and he really wants us to do a job at that particular time.”

I believe that screams 'BAIT!' and 'YOU ARE A DISTRACTION!'

“They have ride-alongs or aerial cover from various members of the Wards and the Protectorate, so we’d be caught in a fight with another cape from minute one. Same problems that Brian’s talking about, as far as getting caught up in a fight, difficulty accessing the money before shit goes down, yadda yadda. Anyways, the Brockton Bay Central has cars coming in twice a week, and leaving four times a week. We hit on a Thursday just after noon, and it should be the best day and time for the sheer size of the take. Only way we’re getting away with less than thirty thousand is if we fuck up. With what the boss is offering, that’s ninety thou.”

Not a bad chunk of change for a lunchbreak sized job.

Brian sighed, long and loud, “Well, you got me, I guess. It sounds good.”

If Brian isn't physically facepalming when he says this, he has to be mentally. Just... such 'fiiiiiiiiiine! (exasperated)' energy.

Arguing against the bank robbery at this point would hurt my undercover operation more than it helped anyone. With that in mind, I began offering suggestions that – I hoped – would minimize the possibility of disaster. The way I saw it, if I helped things go smoothly, it would help my scheme to get info on the Undersiders and their boss. It would minimize the chance that someone would panic or be reckless and get a civilian hurt. I think I would feel worse if that happened than I would about going to jail.

Fair, on the civilian front. I have no idea how many civilians Taylor hurts, but it's probably low. Also, the rationalizations continue apace!

The discussion went on for a while. At one point, Lisa got her laptop, and we debated entrance and exit strategies while she sketched out a map of the bank layout. It was uncanny, seeing her power at work. She copied a satellite image of the bank from a web search into a paint program, then drew over it with thick bold lines to show how the rooms were laid out. With another search and a single picture of the bank manager standing in front of his desk, she was able to mark out where the manager’s desk was. That wouldn’t have been too amazing, but without pausing, she then went on to mark where the tellers were, as well as the vaults, the vault doors and the enclosed room that held the safe deposit boxes. She noted where the fuse box and air conditioning vents were, but we decided we wouldn’t mess with either of those.

It's amazing what you can find on the internet... and with a power that lets you do what Sherlock Holmes pretends to.

Of the four of us, I got the impression he had the least to contribute, at least strategically, and that he knew it. I wasn’t sure if he just didn’t have a very tactical mindset or if he just didn’t care that much about the planning stage of things.

Despite the fact that he is (according to fanfic, not sure if this is canon) a sociopath, and at the very least, fucked up thanks to being one of Heartbreaker's Kids, Alec may be the most normal of the Undersiders.

And boy is that weird to say.

“Sure,” he said, “So let’s go down the list. Team leader: Aegis. You’d think he has the standard Alexandria package, flight, super strength, invincibility, but that isn’t exactly right. He does fly, but the other two powers work differently than you’d expect. See, he isn’t invincible… he just doesn’t have any weak points. His entire biology is filled with so many redundancies and reinforcements that you just can’t put him down. Throw sand in his eyes and he can still see by sensing the light on his skin. Cut his throat and it doesn’t bleed any more than the back of his hand would. The guy’s had an arm cut off and it was attached and working fine the next day. Stab him through the heart and another organ takes over the necessary functions.”

*Me, shaking the powers* WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE NORMAL?!?!?!

“I don’t need to hold back?” Bitch asked, her eyebrow quirked. “For once, no. Go nuts. Just, you know, don’t kill him.

Very important that you added that extra detail there, Brian :P

“The upside is that whoever he touches is also untouchable. Can’t be hurt, can’t be moved. Period. He uses that defensively, and he can do stuff like throw paper or cloth in the air and freeze it in time, making an unbreakable shield. You don’t want to run into something that’s frozen. A car that drove into the side of a piece of paper that Clockblocker had touched would be cut in two before it budged the paper.”

Everyone, get ready for our favorite game here at @got-into-worm-by-mistake!

*Wheel of Fortune Audience Voice*

POWERS!

ARE!

BULLSHIT!

(I say this a lot. I'll say it more. Because I absolutely love how nothing about any power in Worm can be 'normal' powers. Genuinely. Favorite part of the story that isn't my poor little meow meow babygirl Amy)

“Wherever our powers come from, they also came with some limitations. For most of us, there’s a restriction about using our powers on living things. The reach of powers generally stops at the outside of a person or animal’s body. There’s exceptions for the people with powers that only work on living things, like you, Alec and Rachel. But the long and short of it is that the Manton effect is why most telekinetics can’t just reach into your chest and crush your heart. Most people who can create forcefields can’t create one through the middle of your body and cut you in two.”

I feel like maybe Taylor would have researched this more/better?

“I said most,” Lisa said, “Why these restrictions exist is a question nearly as big as where we got our powers in the first place. The capes that can get around the Manton effect are among the strongest of us.”

And maybe, bitch, that's why you don't help tilt the girl who is teetering on the edge of becoming an S-Class threat over said edge?

(I am entitled to be irrational about some things.)

“That just leaves Shadow Stalker. Bloodthirsty bitch,” Brian scowled.

AYYYY! Sophia! You horrid little bitch!

(Do we find out before Taylor does that Sophia is Shadow Stalker?)

“She was a solo hero,” Tattletale said, “Vigilante of the night, until she went too far and nearly killed someone, nailing him to a wall with one of her crossbows. The local heroes were called in, she got arrested, and made some sort of deal. Now she’s a probationary member of the Wards, with the condition that she uses tranquilizer bolts and nonlethal ammo for her crossbow.”

Furthers the whole "heroes kinda suck, be a villain" messaging from Interlude 2, really.

“I am,” I admitted, “as well as third thoughts, fourth thoughts, and so on. But I’m not going to let that stop me. I’m coming with.”

Valid af though.

“So unless there’s anything else, I think we just planned a bank robbery before noon,” Lisa said with a grin. I looked at the digital clock displayed under the TV. Sure enough, it was half past eleven.

Either Lisa is having too much fun with this, or the other Undersiders are having too little fun with it.

#Worm #Wormblr #Taylor Hebert #Lisa Wilbourn #I keep thinking there's an e at the end #Brian Laborn #The Undersiders #Kylia Reads Worm #Agitation 3.3

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nightmare-weaver-vex · 2 years ago

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A Nightmarish Confrontation.

Masses of purple clouds formed above your head, seeming to come from nowhere, obstructing your vision of the once peaceful sky. Lighting them from within were bright green Lightning sparked from one cloud to another, seeming to be drawn to a particular source of power. A shadow compromised of the familiar jester attire and eyes that seemed to radiate pure terror and destruction. However, those eyes were currently closed, almost as if in a trance.

A bolt of lightning brighter than the rest gave you a clearer picture of the figure in front of you. He sat cross-legged, hovering in mid-air, his gloved hands resting neatly in his lap, his elegant cape fluttering softly behind him. His body shone with energy like any you had ever seen before, it pulsating in time with his breathing. Curiosity drove you forward, almost like you were being drawn to him.

Without so much as a warning sign, one of the jester's eyes shot open, brimming with power. Uncrossing his legs, he swiftly rose to his feet. He looked annoyed at being interrupted but took a deep breath and chuckled from within his chest.

"Well, it seems you have survived my little trails. Congratulations! You have earned a front-row seat with the dastardly and marvelous Vex! Luckily, your presence interests me, so I shall keep you alive for now...Now, what brings you to such a foreboding place? You can't simply be sightseeing. Or have you come to gawk at a true God? Come now. Spit it out!

"Depending on your question, I shall consider keeping you around or not. You must know that as a trickster I bore quite easily. So for your sake, please keep this entertaining. Just remember, one wrong move and you will see firsthand why they call me the nightmare king. There is however one condition that you must know,I expect something in return from you. You can't expect me to do this for you without something in exchange, correct? Luckily for you, I have just the thing! I want you to... Let's see... What shall I do to you that is befitting of my title as a God? So what I want from you is..."

Vex was cut off by the expression currently adorning your face. He was caught off guard, to say the least, but it didn't last long as he let out a deep, malicious laugh.

"Awwww what's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Those in my presence are usually ready with a smart comeback, but you are different. I can already tell that we will have so much fun together! Now, I'm not completely heartless mind you, I still have my morals and ambitions. So, as a man of my word, I will permit you to speak. However,Consider your words carefully for I grow bored. You do not want to be around when that happens! After all, isn't curiosity what killed the cat?"

Going silent, Vex sat, his legs crossed over each other once more. His eyes pierced you to your very soul, almost judging you. He looked relatively peaceful except for his fingers drumming against his legs, showing his impatience. Taking a deep breath, you uttered your next few words that would seal your fate.

#role play #questions #interactions.#sackboy #vex sackboy #vex saba #alternate universe #jester #nightmare #lbp vex #little big planet #lbp

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talesgolden · 2 years ago

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☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.). for ag :)

(Symbol-based Headcanons)

Oh, oh boy. Listen so this is the way it seems to me, right now, but it’s subject to change because there’s a lot of people involved ok? But [cracks knuckles] here we go

Agnieszka considers all of the Chernabog shards/vessels/whatever you want to call them her siblings. They are coarse, they are dark, they are different, and they are hers. Her family. Even when they are unkind to her, even when she is unkind to them. Even when they are fighting and clawing and biting and ripping at each other, that is her den of devils, and she would defend and rescue and protect all of them. Any one of them. Mostly they are stronger than her and don’t really need help or protection, but that’s ok too.

She has a more benign personality than several of the others, but nevertheless keeps a very us-and-them view of the world which... in all honesty, is fair, really. She’s not a human or even mortal. Any other person she could potentially become close with is far more vulnerable, far less understanding, and distinctly going to die, someday. Her siblings are strong, know her nearly better than she understands what she is herself, and will live alongside her evermore, until the skies go black and maybe even longer. They don’t rightly know, yet. She is really quite neutral towards outsiders, but her family, her siblings, are everything. There is no one closer, and it’s unlikely that will change. Even if she were to fall out with any of them, her siblings would still vastly outweigh anything else you put before her. She loves them, through all. The world she could take or leave, really, as long as she could keep her siblings.

While they’re all roughly of similar ages (as in all within five years of each other, as they were all created in the same span of threat) she has a distinct role in the overall dynamic of being a younger sister to everyone except Flea. This means, like most younger sisters, she is generally a bit coddled by most of the others, and simultaneously their biggest bother. She is more manipulative than outside eyes tend to see, and sometimes it works and sometimes it just annoys the others. Resident master-pouter: she has puppy dog eyes and she’s not afraid to shamelessly employ them to get her way! And she is something of a pester-er, with many questions and a habit of trailing along behind one of the others in the hopes of being included. She is dear, she is dastardly. No doubt there are times she annoys the others to high heaven, but when things get serious and she calls for help, they are swift to her side and protective to homicidal degrees. They can bully her, you absolutely cannot.

uhhhhh for the next part I’ve done some plotting with the others for dynamics between siblings, but also I’m just going to assert some of this by the seat of my pants/the vibes of what I think the dynamics are probably like. So they’re subject to a little change, when/if we get more into talking about it, but--- more specific sibling-by-sibling info under the cut:

Hella: The most distant dynamic, Helvetica is quite independent and, further, quite different from safety-seeking Agnieszka. They don’t spend very much time with each other at all. Nevertheless, big sister hung the very stars in the sky and can do no wrong. Every now and then Ag will go into phases of trying to emulate her chaotic eldest sibling. It generally doesn’t end well for anyone involved.

Kon: Oldest brother, meanest brother. For his half, Konstantin carries a largely apathetic attitude everywhere he goes. He bullies his siblings as indiscriminately as anyone else he’s ever encountered, and Ag is no exception to this. She frequently tries to appeal to him despite being repeatedly and often harshly shut down. Sometimes she bites back, but mostly it just makes her sad that he claims to want distance— she thinks he’s bluffing, because she thinks he doesn’t want at all. She thinks she can fix that.. somehow. She’s got time to figure it out, and in the meantime she’ll keep making puppy eyes.

Freyja: Classic big sister/little sister dynamic, taller-little-sister syndrome included, with a spin of being strangers to each other for many of their early years. Freyja is so smart! and strong! and knows everything about everything!! Ag wants to learn from her, and frequently asks questions, repeats the the answers, and generally takes Freyja’s word as the definitive truth of everything. They’re aren’t super close, as yet, but Ag wants very badly for them to be. (So much so it might be the main obstacle to them actually being close. It’s hard to build on something idealized.)

Gonzo: Perhaps the most human-minded of the siblings, Zo is very bound to his mortal shape and the lives of many humans, and for that he Jagna don’t have much in common. He is also, though, fun! and good about being straightforward and clear with her, if somewhat blunt in a way that can hurt her feelings sometimes. He frequently intervenes when Kon is being particularly nasty, and is also likely to try to cheer her up when she’s feeling low. They aren’t necessarily tight-knit, but definitely good with each other. Ag will bite you for messing with Zo (you will not like it.)

Yana & Alexei: The twins, terse and tangled, are the siblings Kat & Ag have known the longest and leaned on the most. Yana & Alexei are the ones who discovered what was going on inside the church’s orphanage. They freed Katja & Jagna from their childhood of torment. The four of them spent some time as a unit, during which Kat & Ag gained their names and a new understanding of who -what- they even were to have been targeted as they were by the lord judge who held them captive. There is also a sense of understanding the four of them have, as each pair knows something of what the other feels and experiences as bonded duos. Two sets of twos, in slightly different fonts. Voted most likely to huddle together and hiss secrets in each others’ ears. Though, as I said, it seems broadly true the others are defensive of Ag, Yana & Alexei (& Kat) in particular will absolutely end you in a myriad of creative and very painful ways if you so much as think of hurting or harassing Agnieszka.

Katja: Jagna’s other half in a very literal sense. Too much to go into, and yet as simple as that. Though they have split and spread since the time they were one and the same, they remain deeply entrenched in each other, and although all of her siblings are dear, the honest truth of it all is that Katja is on another level. When Jagna wonders if she would survive the loss of her sister, it is not a metaphorical question. Could she exist without Kat? Well. No one will ever know, because no one will ever hurt Kat. Jagna is sworn to it. It’s what she was born for.

Valeria: Most likely owing to their proximity in age, griping and snarling and squabbling are the best words to apply to the relationship between Valeria and Ag (and by extension, Kat— or perhaps, it’s Val and Kat who have problems, and Ag who gets towed into it.... it’s hard to tell.) It is, mostly, affection in an antagonism hat, a vitriolic sort of normal that simply defines them to each other. That’s Val, she’s stinky. Sometimes, though, it escalates into them genuinely trying to wound each other, both emotionally and physically. Regardless, whatever stage of snippish, they’ll happily turn on a third party in tandem, to rip them to shreds should they think they have any right to antagonize one or the other, or even just stick their nose into it. Afterwards, they’ll go happily right back to criticizing each other.

Flea: Baby brother, beloved. Outside of Kat, he’s the sibling Ag feels the most close to. Both of them are somewhat less bound to their mortal bodies than the others seem to be, more at home in stranger, wilder forms. They spend a lot of time together, away from the lives and world and worries of humans. They see less of themselves in people, more from their siblings. From each other. Flea is the only sibling (Kat included!) Ag has never once argued with. They are all of them monstrous one way or another, but Ag and Flea seem the most inclined toward the inhumanity of it. Though they rarely acknowledge it in words, they hold common ground in that they seem to be formed from the Chernabog’s basest parts: the Shadow and the Beast; the darkness and the hunger.

#❖║headcanon / agnieszka.#oh yeah that's a fun fact for anyone who didn't know: all of the siblings have players none of them are npcs #we built a lil monster family owo #so these are my Takes from some building but may shift around or change entirely tbh it's just how the vibes feel currently

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triviareads · 2 years ago

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Releases on March 28th

Summary:

Lady Gertrude is a pillar of the ton and stuck in an unhappy marriage. She wants to give her debutante daughter Delia more freedom on the marriage mart but her profligate husband has already decided on a spouse for their daughter. Said choice, Jasper Thorne, is the man who propositioned Tru before he knew she was his bride-to-be's mother... and it goes from there.

Some background:

Listen, I know Sophie. I love Sophie. I've read nearly everything Sophie's ever written. My favorites so far have been the books featuring the Langley sisters, the Debutante Files series, and of course her seminal masterpiece of a Texan ex-con series, Devil's Rock. They were hot. Which is why I was surprised that The Countess did not have the follow-through in terms of sex that I was expecting. Like, there were three chapters solely dedicated to Jasper propositioning Tru, not to mention both these characters are not virgins, so I was definitely expecting more time dedicated to sex.

The book I was most inclined to compare this to based on the premise was Sophie's The Scandal of it All, in which the heroine gets with her step-son's best friend. To me, the joke was that Graciela was suuuuper *scandalized* with herself for wanting someone six whole years younger than her. I thought the age gap was negligible at the time so when I read the premise of The Countess, I hoped the age gap would be greater as this is a mother and her daughter's suitor. But alas, it was only four years when I feel like it could have been... more. Like, we really could have sold the "older woman-younger man" thing here, but it didn't happen 🤷🏻‍♀️.

My review:

Tru and Jasper's chemistry was present right off the bat with their darkened garden encounter, and it grew into something true and honest regardless of them having to hide their attraction. Jasper was there for Tru in ways her husband never was. That being said, I finished this book, I couldn't help but feel that the ending was super abrupt and very deus ex machina in resolving loose ends. I'd seen Tru and Jasper's relationship developing, but it wasn't quite there, you know? Maybe a couple more clandestine encounters (yes that includes more sex), and a more firm realization of her love for him would have done the deal.

The sex:

What we did get in terms of sex almost felt like an afterthought— make no mistake it was well written (thought I do think the kissing scenes conveyed more passion), but none of them (two of them?) were particularly noteworthy. There was a scene where parlor games were practically (unwittingly) foreplay, which I wholeheartedly approve of. I feel like people forget parlor games with kissing were A Thing back in the day, which is unfortunate, especially consider the potential of games called "Kiss the Candlestick".

Review (continued):

I think the problem was that there was way too much time devoted to just how *dastardly* Tru's husband was. She could easily have removed excess passages on how much of a drunk, lecher, glutton, terrible father, etc. he was in order to focus on our actual love interest, Jasper. Additionally, there were a lot of POVs outside Tru and Jasper's. I think Sophie wanted to introduce the full cast of characters, especially those who will be featured in upcoming books, but that came at the cost of somewhat neglecting her main couple.

Outside the romance, I did appreciate the focus on female friendship. It's similar to what I said about Sabrina Jeffries' upcoming book, except in this case, it's friendship between a bunch of disenchanted older women— which is fun. The sneak-peak into the next heroine's book definitely seems fun. Between Joanna Shupe's Fifth Avenue Rebel series, and Vivienne Lorret's Mating Habits of Scoundrels series, I think this is becoming something of a trend, and definitely one I can get behind.

Overall, I did expect more from Sophie in terms of romance and the sex, but I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for this series as a whole.

Thank you to Avon and Harper Voyager and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for my review.

#sophie jordan #netgalley #arc review #arc #historical romance #avon books #avon #Harper Voyager #romance novel #romance novels

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fersrsbizniz · 2 years ago

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I see now it’s going to be “A Better Mouse Trap”

Something something about Sentinel? Let’s find out what my brain remembers.

*Note: I skipped this episode and watched the next one with my wife a little bit ago (didn’t realize I had skipped it until I saw where I was on my last saved reflection, so I get to share that with anyone who is interested soon).

Forever listen to the intro. I’d put this in a playlist. Hey…I wonder if Spotify…

I can’t tell. That might be the theme, or a cover, but it won’t play for me. Just got the campfire song song blasting currently because damn me and my curiosity.

So we have Waspinator, Terrorsaur, and Blackarachnia being dastardly, having plots, making Waspinator do all the work.

Glad to see it isn’t a bomb, considering the unstable energon vein that connects the two bases. This is going to be weak enough because it’s a sonic emitter aimed at a different part, on a smaller scale, I guess? Is it wise? Idk, who cares, she’s clearly put some thought into it, let’s move along.

And she’s bullying Terrorsaur. Nice.

Ah, a switch in POV. Rhinox is going over some changes he’s made to Sentinel (I do remember this episode!) that are very much meant to detain rather than maim, and tbh I would have been shocked if it had been to do more than knock someone out. I’m not sure I would call this impregnable, but if these types of defenses were actually implemented, the Predacons would have a bit of a tougher time.

What I mean is if we ever heard about all the changes ever again in other episodes (then again they are always managing to turn them off so maybe that’s why?)

Waspinator has been spotted on Cheetor’s watch and it sounds like Optimus is connecting some dots.

Sure he’s on the side of the Predacons, but I can’t help but have this soft spot for Waspinator. Yes, Waspinator, you rule, just not in the way you think.

Ooh a dig at Rattrap. Sounds like you’re learning more than just stealth tips there, Optimus. And then it’s all serious again.

THE FINGER WIGGLES!!! The little :) !!! I love

Cue chase, then back to base!

And Dinobot disapproves of the defenses, what a surprising revelation! lol

He does kind of prove his point there though. Might need more “tanglers” than that to stop Predacons that get past the initial defenses. Right now you just pissed him off, Rattrap. And you both are now going to mess up Rhinox��s hard work.

Yep. Yep. Yep. There you go.

Petty boy gets the petty prize of shocking oneself (and somehow not blowing a fuse), which begins the problems!!!

Something about the way he turns his head back with his hand is funny but I can’t pinpoint why.

And awww, its nice to see Rattrap acting responsibly. He does a lot of cool things when he’s like this.

Back outside…

Of course the energon surge happens now, but it does give Tigatron the chance to show his moves, again. HOWEVER, I’m not usually a huge fan of the I work alone mindset when there’s no reason for someone to have to work alone. Dire situations where inaction from even a single person could have terrible lasting effects? Yes, I’m for it. But currently they only know they’re looking for something fishy. Being stubborn like this is not a way to ensure the best outcome.

Back to base with being locked out of said base, jammed comm links, and Ooooooooh!!! He said it! He said the thing!

And now Rattrap is proving its not enough defense (although it would require the more thoughtful Predacons to devise ways to beat the programming)…well that OR that he’s just that good of an infiltrator.

He waved! Second wave!

Tigatron found the secret door! And now is off to cause some problems for the Predacons. All the while the other Maximals are trying to get back in.

And now I’m thinking…aren’t these methods a little…self-destructive base wise?

A stealth fighter, master marksman, and demolition expert? Yep (aside from the demolition thing) fave rpg build there. The demolition thing makes me think of how my wife always messed with me in Perfect Dark, and how I’d come after her with just my fists after she disarmed me, scaring the crap out of her with my tranquilized accuracy, before eventually being taken down because she was better at the game lol.

Okay Tigatron, I appreciate you have a stealth mode, but what exactly about this mode is…stealth?

I guess it was, if you were able to steal the emitter? Idk I was just sad Blackarachnia was sad about her invention being taken. A girl can’t even destroy something…

Once again I ask with more concern: WAS THIS EXPLOSION WISE?!?!?

You’re all lucky you didn’t trip up that vein omg I stg

Here Rattrap is being cool and all I can think of is wow, that is a SHINY backside because it’s like the brightest thing on the screen.

Really, I’m no expert on like defense, but (and I know it should be toss the logic here, they’re not prepared for all of this, etc…) shouldn’t there be more substantial defenses above if you are willing to go (what looks like) lethal with your defense here???

That’s a bit fatalistic, Rhinox. Sure Sentinel wouldn’t drop the shield if an enemy were still around, but it wouldn’t keep up the shield if the situation was fixed. Omg everyone is sad D:

And there’s Dinobot with the pragmatic eulogy (cue me shedding preemptive tears for future…I straight up can’t finish the sentence I am legit sad now)

At least you know where you stand, I guess (ow ow ow)

Awww Rhinox, he’s your best friend? 🥺🥺🥺 I don’t remember you saying that. But I can see it. Now the question is, are you guys the galest of pals?

And there Rattrap is, making a scene and lightening the mood for everyone. Major deaths? Not in this episode!

And that’s it!

(Now I want to play perfect dark but that’s like the n64 game and idk if we have the wires for that here)

#beast wars rewatch #beast wars

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inhcritance · 1 year ago

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Peace felt like a dire wish at this point in a city filled with criminals who never slept, super villains who could break out of jail and terrorize people at a moment’s notice, and some crazy 80s plot that could overtake the city, all conjured up from someone’s most random dream possible. Miles would always defend New York and fight the good fight to his last breath, because that’s what Spider-Man was supposed to do, but damn if he couldn’t just get some of that peace for himself and allow him to focus on balancing his own personal life, his life at soon-to-be college, and his superhero life, then maybe that was when peace would finally show up on the front door offering its hand in an extended invitation.

“Well to be fair, the evil billionaire trope can get pretty played out at times, even though evil billionaires are completely common in today’s society,” Miles slightly mused, shaking his head at all of the evil and dastardly CEOs out there in charge of various different companies who made their money in shameful ways and didn’t bother using those funds to try and make the world a better place. “But I’m sure your heart’s in the right place if all of those research stations are anything to go by. Nothing in this world’s ever as clear cut as people like to make it seem, based off of personal experiences. But if you’ve got the idea and you’ve got the resources to make it work, then you’ll find a way. Sometimes it just takes a while, but as long as you don’t give up, the end result’s always worth it.”

That was a good question. There wasn’t anything in particular that had brought Miles out to this area at Oscorp; he just so happened to be swinging by in the area stopping a gang of criminals holding up an armored car. But now that he was actually here, maybe he could ask Harry about a few things and get some insight into the mind of Peter’s best friend. “Vigilantism isn’t a usual choice in the city, yeah. But have you ever felt like you’ve had a call to action? Like you were...I dunno, designed for a purpose that went beyond something that words could explain? It seems like you have, but there’s something going on with Oscorp that might’ve flew under some people’s noses. There’s some rumor that your dad or someone within the higher ups in Oscorp has been experimenting with some of that lizard blood that turned Dr. Connors into the Lizard. Is that true?”

Evil billionaires were indeed far too common, and all he could do was offer some soft agreement, with a nod, and would that it hadn't been in part bitter. He was not unaware of how his family fortune had been built, after all. All he could do, in his eyes, was be better.

Spider-Man's encouragement had him smile, however, unexpectedly fond despite how small the gesture was.

Moreover, he could relate to the feeling of a call to action, to the desire to use what he had to change the world. He'd learned that from his mother, from the passion for the world he'd inherited.

"I wouldn't say I was meant for a purpose," he considered, nevertheless, turning to fully face the vigilante as he considered his next words, "I like to believe I chose mine. That in the end, all we can do is choose, for better or for worse, and face the consequences of those choices."

And choices, he kept making, and some of them he was not entirely proud of, necessary as they seemed. So he couldn't help the cautious frown that became his expression, far more guarded now. The time for honesty was over, he supposed.

"That's a concerning rumor." He settled for, before his gaze turned towards the Oscorp Logo beside them. "And it does sound like something Oscorp might do." He admitted. "Or might have done. Given the current situation, however, rumors such as those, much less if they're true, are the last thing we need."

He'd definitely have to look into how the rumor might have originated, because they were indeed trying to clean up Oscorp's image and even if they weren't... Harry looked into the eyes of the Spider-Man's mask, wishing he could see the expression beneath.

"I will look into it." He settled for promising, because only four people knew for a certainty that they did have those samples and they were researching them, and Harry himself was part of the investigation. And he would not let the circle widen.

He was so tired of lying, and he just hoped his exhaustion would seem, to the other, like exhaustion at the sheer corruption of the corporation he now worked for, neck-deep into those shadows now.

"What happened to Dr. Connors was a tragedy." He added, still, and this was honest. "I've known the man for many years, I'd rather not see it repeated. How trustworthy would you say those rumors seemed?" He asked, instead, trying to gauge how much stock the vigilante put on them.

#beatsbymiles #(( verse: main earth 1048 ))#( Sorry Miles he's part of the corruption now )

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ibukis-songbook · 3 years ago

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[Non-Request] [One Shot?] [Smut]

Blackmail? - Kokichi/F!Reader/Kiibo

Hoooooooooboyyyyyyy this was long as HELL to write, and took quite a bit of back and forth editing to make it just right. This is actually the first smut one shot of this length that I’ve ever written, and I even considered breaking it into two parts because it’s really long with a lot of build up! I’ve been working on this since the first of the year and I’m so happy to be done with it so I can post it! I’m highly considering turning this into a series as it was really fun to make, so part two may be out soon!~ (or not, I do take forever to write anything lol) I have plenty more ideas to make y/n into a mess~

-Mod Ibuki 💜

.｡.:*☆♥︎♫♪—————— ↫ l l ↬ ——————♪♫♥︎☆*:.｡.

Dirty Thoughts - Chloe Adams

Off The Table - Ariana Grande

Hi, I’m a Sl*t - Lil Mariko

Synopsis: Kokichi finds f!y/n’s diary and sees all of her naughty secrets. He plans to embarrass her for his and her own enjoyment. He knows she has a little humiliation kink, after all.

Warnings: Fem s/o, AFAB s/o, is this dub con? it might be dub con*, hard dom Kokichi, switch Kiibo? (submissive to Kokichi, kind of a service top/soft dom to you), sub Kiibo goes to dom Kiibo in .5 seconds and it’s hot, Hope’s Peak University AU*, pet names, oral sex/cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, big boob joke on y/n’s behalf about her own tits, thigh talk, wrote y/n thicc on accident whoops, shock collar (mostly for Kiibo), handcuffs, threesome???, humiliation, degradation to praise (use of sl*t and wh*re), edging to overstimulation, mild hair pulling, I like being manhandled so sue me, Kiibo getting soft and literal heart eyes, Kokichi being a little shit, I use the c-word for fem parts sometimes*, weed joke I wrote at like four am that runs for three paragraphs, reader is slightly blunt, (HAHA BLUNT GET IT OUID), one (1) singular ass smack from Kokichi, also I wrote this before the Oscars and there’s a Will Smith mention and I’m just kinda laughing awkwardly at it now

*Reader consents but struggles at first. Kiibo and Kokichi also consent, obviously. Please don’t force yourself to read this if this is upsetting/triggering for you!

*Everyone attends college, so no killing games happen in this universe, but Kiibo’s still a robot and yes, still has a robo-dick. Cast of NDVR3 (Killing Harmony) are uni freshmen (18-19 y/o), DR1 (Trigger Happy Havoc) are uni sophomores (19-20 y/o), and SDR2 (Goodbye Despair) are uni juniors (20-21 y/o). Where y/n falls is up to the reader, just know you also attend classes at Hope’s Peak Uni.

*C-word being “c*nt”. I PERSONALLY do not consider this offensive, as it was actually the first scientific term for the vagina in the English language, thus I associate it more with the reproductive system and use it as slang rather than as an insult or a demeaning phrase. I’m also from the US so we don’t typically use “cunt” as an insult. If you find this insulting and seeing it prevents you from reading this, I completely understand. No need to read/like/comment/reblog if you really don’t want to, seriously. Don’t force yourself to read something you aren’t comfortable with.

Okay that was a lot of CW but I felt they were necessary! Into the fic. 🎵💜

This day was heinous. This day was terrible. You might even say this was the worst day ever.

You should have known better than to leave your diary unlocked on your desk in the same classroom as Kokichi. You really should have known better, but you figured that you were just getting up to go to the bathroom for, like, five minutes. No big deal right? He wouldn’t try anything, especially since you sat between him and Shuichi. Shuichi would never allow Kokichi to touch your personal belongings, right?

“Kokichi, what are you doing?” Shuichi glared at his friend, immediately aware that the shorter boy was up to something dastardly.

“Me? Oh, nothing, Shuichi dear!” Kokichi slid your diary over to his side of the lecture hall desk with one finger, swiftly opening it.

“Kokichi Ouma, put that down!” Shuichi whisper-yelled. Shit, he knew you’d kill him and Kokichi if you saw the two wrestling over your personal journal. “Kokichi, please, that’s y/n’s personal diary!”

Kokichi snickered, intently reading your handwritten secrets. “Nishishishi, chill out Shuichi. I’m just having a little fun, I don’t mean any harm!” Despite Shuichi wrestling to grasp the notebook, Kokichi had managed to make it several pages in already. He must have been very invested in what you wrote to be able to speed-read it like that, Shuichi thought.

“Shit, Kokichi, the professor is going to turn around. Just give it back already!” Shuichi’s voice cracked.

Kokichi shut the book and sighed, placing it back on top of your textbook. “Fine, whatever, it’s boring anyways. Nothing juicy enough to bother with…or am I lying?” He laughed, silencing himself as soon as you walked back into the room.

Shuichi gulped, visibly nervous about the thought of you finding out about the little tussle the two boys had just had. You slumped down into your seat, preparing for another fifteen minutes of your professor droning on and on about…ah, what was he going over again? Something about op-eds you think. You let your eyes close for a moment as you laid your head on the desk.

Your two seconds of rest didn’t last very long though, as you felt one of your deskmates staring at you. You opened your eyes to see Kokichi’s violet ones looking back at you. He was smiling that devilish little smile he had when he was plotting, and twirled his hair not-so-innocently.

“The fuck do you want, short stack?”

He smiled wider, looking even more mischievous than before. “Nothing in particular. I’m just thinking,” he chuckled a bit.

Ugh. He was likely just messing with you. You rolled your eyes and slept until Shuichi shook you awake at the end of class. You were so tired that you didn’t even notice Kokichi’s slight blush when he answered you.

꧁🎀꧂

“Later, nerds. I’m taking a nap,” you dragged yourself out of the building. It was a grey, rainy day outside of the walls of Hope’s Peak Uni, and it only added to your exhaustion. You couldn’t wait to get the fuck back to your room and pass out.

“Oh, wait y/n! Your bag is open. Let me get that for you,” Shuichi bounded up to you and stopped behind you. He zipped your bookbag closed, and sent you on your way with a slight smile.

“Thanks, Shu!”

Kokichi and Shuichi waved goodbye to you, ready to go about their own days, until Kokichi spotted Miu and Kiibo walking in.

“Hehe! What’s up, dumb slut? Hey Kee-boy!”

Miu strided over to the pair of boys, Kiibo tagging along. The normally chipper robot looked unusually upset today. Something else about him seemed different too, but Kokichi couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Hey guys!” the former Super High School Level Inventor greeted them. “Where’s y/n? She usually gets out of class with you.”

“She was really tired, so she went to her dorm to lay down.”

“Shuichi!” Kokichi interjected, “I was gonna tell them that she got kidnapped by DICE and taken to my secret underground base!”

Miu rolled her eyes. “What would your dumb organization want with her anyways?”

“Nefarious purposes. Anyways, Kiibo, why aren’t you talking? Did your voice box break?”

Shuichi stepped closer to Kiibo, who was scowling at Kokichi. “That’s what looked off. What’s with the uh…new…bling?”

The white-haired android sighed. Around his neck sat a new piece of tech, likely designed by Miu. It looked like a collar of some sort, with a strip of greenish blue LED light within its center, wrapping around the circumference of the neckpiece. “I’ll have you know that my voice box is perfectly fine, thank you very fucking much. Miu is just-“ he was cut off by a shock, presumably administered by the collar. He suppressed a shriek, grabbing onto the necklace.

Miu pulled out a small remote from her pocket. “Shock collar. I’ve just corrupted poor Kiibo with my awful swearing habits!” She pulled Kiibo into a tight embrace, his face shoved in her chest, and arms pinned under her own. She pet his ivory hair, “I’ve passed it onto him. So now, to reverse it, I’m trying out a new invention, brought to you by the one and only Gorgeous Girl Genius, Miu Iruma!” She let go of Kiibo, and grandly gestured Will Smith style to what hung around his neck.

“Behold! A shock collar that detects the wearer’s voice and punishes specific word inputs!”

“Woah, that’s…awfully interesting, Miu,” Shuichi scratched the back of his neck.

“I know! But unfortunately, the voice recognition doesn’t work right just yet. So, for now, I’m having to manually administer the shocks. I make them slightly stronger each time though, so eventually it should break Kiibo’s potty mouth.”

Kiibo rolled his LED eyes. “I’m an adult, you know. If I want to swear, I can! I’m not some little kid!”

“No, you’re not, but you are my lab rat, and this is fun. I have to go to class though, and Kiibo is done for the day, which means I can’t make sure he’s properly punished! That’s actually what I was going to ask y/n for, but unfortunately, she’s not here.”

Kiibo pinched his nose in a very human-like fashion.

Miu held out the remote, dangling it between her index finger and thumb. “But, if either of you were to volunteer to watch him for the day…”

Kokichi grinned his signature grin and snatched the remote out of Miu’s hand. “I would gladly watch over Kee-boy for the day! I don’t have anything else to do anyways.”

Shuichi whipped around to book it to his next class. “Sorry guys, but I have to go. Kokichi, don’t do anything dumb, please! I know you’re planning something!”

“Worry not, Detective Saihara! I’m not up to anything!” Kokichi shouted after him. He then turned to Kiibo as Miu sauntered away, thanking Kokichi for taking her responsibility for the day.

“That was totally a lie. I’m up to something great. Wanna know some juicy secrets, Kiibo?”

“Even if I say no, you’re going to tell me anyways, aren’t you?” The robot boy sighed again.

“Oh, you know me so well! Seriously though. You’ll really like this. Like, really like this.” He slung his bag over his side, reaching to open the pocket. He pulled out a simple looking notebook with an open lock on it.

With that, they were off to Kokichi’s dorm.

꧁🎀꧂

Ding!

Ding!…Ding!

Ding!Ding!Ding!Di-

You picked up your phone to see ten messages from Kokichi from within just the past two minutes.

What the fuck did the grape bastard want now? It’s not that you didn’t like Kokichi, but you were sleeping. This was encroaching on your beauty rest, and your friend was in for a conversation with a very grumpy y/n.

“Y/n, answer me! Y/NNNNNN! COME 2 MY ROOM BBY!!1! I have a surprise for u! <;3”

His texts read like it was fucking 2010. You had to admit though, you blushed a little at his heart. Whatever. It wasn’t that big of a deal, it was just how he texted everyone, probably. What could he possibly want from you at four p.m.?

“I see u reading my shit. Gimme attention!!!!”

“Chill dude. I’m otw. I’ll be over in like ten, okay?” You sent a couple replies to quell his relentless texts. That would buy you enough time to brush your hair and teeth, throw a hoodie on over your skirt, and get to his dorm.

“Okie dokie! See you there peasant! :D”

Typical Kokichi to call you that, his talent being what it was and all. You shoved your phone into your hoodie and made your way out of your dormitory hall’s doors, not caring too much to be exactly on time, as much as you knew it would annoy the former Super High School Level Supreme Leader. He could deal with it. He did just wake you up for god knows what, anyways. So, you made your way up the small hill to the boys’ dormitory hall at your own damn pace.

You shot him a text letting him know you were downstairs, and the door swung open only a few seconds later.

“That was fast,” you said pointedly.

Kokichi stood on the other side of the door, holding it open with a simper stretched across his face. “I just ran down here ultra-fast! Kidding, I was waiting for you.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside the hall and dragging you down the hallway. “I’m lucky that I managed to wake you up before nighttime! You know how RA Taka is about visiting curfew.”

“Yeah, I’m aware. Twogami might let it go, cause he knows me, but Taka definitely won’t,”

Kokichi laughed. “Twogami is kinda soft on you. Come on in! I have a little gift I set up for you.” He opened the door to his dorm, and you stepped inside. Kiibo sat on Kokichi’s bed, playing with his hands.

“This the surprise? I’m not complaining,” you smiled at the robo-boy.

“H-hey y/n!” Kiibo was…blue. Kiibo’s face was slightly bluish, which y/n knew all too well was his equivalent of a human blush.

“Hey Kiibo. You look embarrassed about something. What’s up?” You said that a bit more abruptly than you intended, but you could see that Kiibo looked like he wanted to say something.

Kiibo glowed a brighter turquoise and let out a nervous chuckle. “Ah, about that. Kokichi and I actually have…something to ask you…”

You turned to Kokichi, who stood behind you, balancing from his heels to his tiptoes. “You should sit down for this, y/n,” he said it so playfully, but whatever the boys had to ask of you seemed more serious. Was Kokichi going to ask you to commit some sort of crime for DICE? Was Kiibo secretly Kokichi’s weed dealer? Was Kokichi Kiiibo’s weed dealer? Was Kiibo smoking? Could Kiibo smoke? Forget Kokichi’s question about robots having dicks, could robots smoke?

You sat next to Kiibo on Kokichi’s bed. Although the likelihood of Kiibo smoking the devil’s lettuce was about as low as your final grade in econ would be if you didn’t start fucking studying, the suspense was killing you, and now you absolutely had to know if there was any possibility that Kiibo was getting high as balls with Kokichi and Miu on Saturday nights at half past two am in Miu’s lab.

“Okay, so,” Kiibo started. You wanted to say aloud what you were thinking, which was “Kiibo, I don’t care if you smoke. In fact, I want to join. I want to be shotgunned by a robot,” but you kept that to yourself.

He continued, his voice malfunctioning in a way that sounded not far off from a human stutter. “What Kokichi is about to tell you is a bit…of an, uh…invasion of your p-p-personal privacy, but! P-please don’t get mad! I uhm, he…told me a couple of things and…” His face was completely blue now, “I wanted to know if they’re true because I…um, I w-w-wouldn’t m-mind at all. In the slightest. If, you know, they were.”

The gears in your brain started turning as you looked at Kiibo, and the two boys could see you were confused as all hell.

A “huh?” fell from your lips as you tried to think of anything he could possibly mean. Is this about the time you lied to Kiibo and Kokichi about your bra size being smaller than it actually was so Kokichi didn’t tease you about it? It backfired and he still called your tits gigantic but at least you tried.

“Oh, look! Silly girl doesn’t get it yet! Here, lemme show you something that might help you understand everything, since you’re too dumb to figure it out yourself,” You rolled your eyes at his rude comment. Kokichi laughed as he hopped over to his desk drawer. He pulled out a small notebook, and held it up for you to see it clearly. It was a notebook with a lock on it.

A notebook with an unlocked lock on it.

“No. No fucking way. Kokichi, you better be fucking with me,” you began to sweat, seeing the shit-eating grin on Kokichi’s face as he laughed again, this time more boisterously.

“So you’re not a complete idiot! Yeah, it’s yours.” You could feel your heart sink and all the color from your face drain. Was the room spinning, or was that just you?

This day was heinous. This day was terrible. You might even say this was the worst day ever.

You lunged for the diary, but Kokichi evaded you, diving this way and that for the notebook. “Please tell me you didn’t read it!” you shouted. If they found out what you had written in that stupid thing, all of your friendships were most definitely over. You were screwed!

As you were contemplating how you were going to transfer colleges in a day, Kokichi got the upper hand in your little tussle and, from behind, pulled you to the bed, your larger form sitting between his legs, back against his smaller chest.

He tossed your diary to the side, and proceeded to hold your wrists to your sides tightly. For such a small dude, the guy had a good deal of strength that you were unaware of before. Kiibo sat himself between your own legs, firmly, but still tenderly holding your legs down with his hands around your thighs (how Kiibo of him). Having Kiibo there eased you a bit, but you still thrashed, trying to break free of Kokichi’s grip on your wrists.

“Please ignore how rude Kokichi is being about this! I’m so sorry y/n, but Kokichi did read at least some of what you wrote, and that’s what we need to ask you about,” having his hands on your thighs in this position made him just as blue as before, but he somehow looked…more…confident? His voice had mostly stopped malfunctioning, too.

Regardless though, you were so fucked, and Kiibo could see your face drop.

You stayed silent, waiting for Kokichi or Kiibo to say something, anything to break the awkward silence that had fallen between you three after Kokichi had totally shattered your…like, everything.

You braced yourself, steeling your insides and balling your fists, ready for whatever horrifying thing Kiibo was about to ask you.

“Do you really…want me like…that? With Kokichi…?”

Classic Kiibo. Even such a terrible question sounded so gentle coming from him. He couldn’t even finish his whole thought, he was so nervous. You could feel him scanning you for signs of any negative emotion. You hoped he wasn’t saving that to his database.

Deep breaths, don’t panic. Stay calm. Just be honest with him. It’s Kiibo. He probably won’t get mad. Probably. God, I’m gonna KILL Kokichi after this.

You took one more deep breath before speaking. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” you exhaled, about to lash out at Kokichi again. “Now, can I leave? You’ve embarrassed me enough.”

Kokichi laughed. “Of course not! You think that’s the only reason I’d bring you here? No, no, no!” Suddenly, you felt something cold and foreign against your wrists, clicking closed. Kokichi released your arms, and you thrashed again, unable to move your arms to the front of your body.

Oh he did NOT just cuff you-

“What the FUCK are you pulling, you purple-haired, checkerboard looking ass motherfucker?!” You shouted at Kokichi.

“Shhhhh, y/n, you need to be quiet, or we’ll get caught,” he shushed you, pressing a pale finger to your lips. Before you could bite it in retaliation, he pulled it away. “I just did this so I can use my hands now, silly. Now calm down and let us finish explaining.”

Your rage began boiling towards the surface of your skin. You just had to tell Kiibo, your friend, that you had fantasized about being in a very explicit situation with him AND Kokichi, your other friend. Now you were handcuffed with Kokichi behind you, teasing you, and Kiibo holding down your thighs so you couldn’t…..

“You have two minutes to finish explaining before I start screaming.” You spat out, your face heating up at the realization of what was happening, putting the pieces together in your head.

“Will do!” Kokichi seemed more than overjoyed to explain his little scheme, the evil smirk returning to his face. “I will tell the truth this once. I did read your diary, but like, only for a couple of minutes or so. I also stole it out of your backpack, because after I read it I thought up an evil plan, of course.”

He pulled you by the waist farther into him, and then tilted your chin to look him in the eyes. “I read all about how you wanna be totally humiliated. Now, I am a generous leader, so when I realized I can give you what you want, I seized the opportunity!”

Kiibo joined, “So he found me, explained, and asked if I wanted to join. I said I’d only do it if you were up to it. This is a major invasion of privacy, and if you want us to stop, then we will, and we can never bring this up again.”

“Or,” Kokichi started up again. He dragged a finger along your spine, from bottom to top. You shuddered. He leaned close enough to whisper. “If you don’t admit what you really want, we could just leave you cuffed like this, all helpless. Maybe we can even tease you when we have guests over! Would that be a fair trade?”

“Kokichi! You said you would be nice! Why are you being so rude to her?” Kiibo huffed.

You shook your head, trying to find a clear train of thought to put this together. “Wait, so you’re saying I have to tell you what my diary entry was about or you’re not gonna let me go?!”

Kokichi grinned.

“This is not what we planned, Kokichi. Why are you not doing what we discu-AGHH!” Kokichi cut Kiibo off with a shock to the collar.

“Where did the shock collar come from?!?” You shouted.

“Oh, it’s a cute little device Miu whipped up. The shock wasn’t that bad, it just startled him a bit. To answer your question though, yes. You’ll have to tell me what you want in order to get out of those cuffs! Also, stop yelling.”

This was total bullshit. “Fuck you, grape boy,” you growled.

“Not yet, sweetcheeks,” he smiled, softer and more flirtatious this time. He slid his hands down your torso, wrapping one arm all the way around your waist, the other hand resting on your hip. He gave it a slight squeeze. “So? Are you going to tell Kiibo and I what you want from us sooo desperately?” He rested his chin on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear. He was close enough that you could feel his warm breath on your neck. “Or, are we going to have to coax it out of you?” A shiver ran up your spine again as he kissed your neck, gently at first.

He sucked on your supple skin, and the rough pulling was beginning to leave hickies. You didn’t push him off, it felt way too good. You felt Kokichi’s semi-hard-on pressing up against your back. Excited already? Damn. You sighed, starting to buck your hips upward, beckoning Kiibo to do something about your growing arousal.

He lowered himself to his knees, him on the floor, you and Kokichi still on the bed. Swinging your leg over his shoulder, he couldn’t help but squish your thigh with the chilled metal hand that supported your leg from underneath.

“So soft…” he murmured, eyes wide with curiosity. You’d almost forgotten that he didn’t often get to touch the…softer parts…of people. He turned his head to touch his cheek to your inner thigh, his lips brushing against your skin. He looked up at you with pleading eyes. “M-may I…?”

You nodded as Kokichi slipped his hands underneath your hoodie, dragging his fingertips along your stomach and ribs. Kiibo kissed your thigh, and bit down slightly every few seconds, inching ever closer to your heat, before you felt Kokichi remove his hand from under your hoodie to reach for the remote. He pressed the button, and administered a light shock to Kiibo’s collar.

You could feel the aftershocks from the collar that hung around Kiibo’s neck, though it wasn’t strong. It didn’t startle you much, since you saw it coming, but Kiibo, who had been so lost in his ravishing of your inner legs squealed a bit at the unwarranted punishment. This time though, his cute little noise sounded much more pleasurable.

“Kokichi,” he pouted, “what was that for?”

“Nishishi. Silly Kiibo, you’re getting so excited already. I had no idea robots got so horny,” he teased.

“You need to take this slow though. How else are we going to pry it out of y/n that she wants us to ruin her?” He took a piece of your hair between his fingers, twirling it playfully. You rolled your eyes.

“Awe, don’t act like you don’t like us touching up on you like this,” he resumed attacking your neck, and you moaned ever so slightly. You knew what he was doing.

He was marking you so everyone would know how desperate you are.

“Getting turned on already? You’re so easy,” Kokichi chuckled. Rich coming from him.

Kiibo, after leaving just as many marks on the other leg as he had left on the first, looked bothered. He was already panting. “Kokichi,” he mumbled against your thigh, face oh so close to your clothed warmth, “can I please? Please? I really wanna.”

Kokichi grinned against your jaw. “Are you ready to tell us exactly what you wanted from us?”

You shook your head, and suppressed a whimper.

“Not yet, huh? Well, I guess we’re going to have to punish you a bit first to get the message through your thick skull,” he licked a stripe up the side of your neck, making you let out the whimper you were holding in. “Go ahead, Kiibo. You’ve been well-behaved, unlike our sweet y/n here.”

Kiibo looked up at you again, his eyes half lidded as he bit his lip. “Can I please taste you, y/n? I wanna taste you so bad…”

You shook your head yes, perhaps a bit too vigorously. Kiibo smiled a wide, dorky smile. He ran his hands up your hips, reaching the hem of your panties. Carefully, he slipped his fingers, now warm from holding your thighs over his shoulders, under the elastic and pulled them down your hips, and off of your legs. Once again, he hiked your legs over his shoulders, and stared wide-eyed at your exposed cunt.

His jaw slacked slightly, and you swore you could see him drooling (apparently robots can drool). Cautiously, he ran his finger along your slit, and you whined. “Pretty…” he mumbled. He barely dipped his finger between your lips, gathering your already pooling arousal and spreading it up to your clit. You let out a tiny moan when he brushed against it. Kiibo brought his finger, coated in your slick, up to his mouth to taste. You flushed.

“Unlike anything I’ve ever…” he trailed off. You’d once again forgotten that Kiibo had never done anything like this before. The two of you had talked about sex and sexual acts before, but he had never actually done anything. Despite that, he surprisingly knew human anatomy very well, as he had educated himself quite a bit out of sheer curiosity.

Yes. Sheer curiosity. No other reason…

Kokichi finally piped up again, the first time in a good five minutes actually. It was unlike him to keep his mouth shut for this long, especially as aroused as he already was, so of course he was due to say something about the scene unfolding in front of him.

“I wanna know how y/n tastes too! Kiiboy, lend me your fingers for a second, wouldya?” Kiibo obeyed, not even correcting Kokichi on his nickname. He seemed to almost be in a daze, letting Kokichi take his fingers into his mouth. Kokichi sucked on Kiibo’s metal digits, savoring any taste of you he could get, as he wouldn’t be the one administering your “punishment” as he had called it.

He released Kiibo’s fingers, and a string of saliva fell from the taller boy’s fingertips. Kokichi giggled, “Use that to make sure she’s thoroughly made up for keeping secrets from us.”

Kiibo didn’t nod, simply placing his fingertips at your entrance. You whimpered as he carefully slid his middle finger into your weeping pussy. He watched in awe as he pumped it slowly. He sighed, as if he was swooning, and leaned into your cunt, getting to work on your clit.

Your back was already arching at the feeling of his (somehow) wet, warm, silicone tongue flicking your bundle of nerves. The licking turned to sucking, and one finger turned into two.

“K-kiiiiibo…” You dragged out his name, and he hummed into your warmth.

Kokichi was busy with two other matters. He unclipped your bra (thank god you were wearing a front clasp today), and held the weight of your chest in his hands. They looked small carrying your breasts as he rubbed circles into your soft nipples. “Awe, look at how cute your nips are when they start to get hard!” he laughed, flicking one as it hardened.

“Ah! Kokichi!” He took the same nipple he flicked into his mouth, sucking on it gingerly, like he was apologizing for spooking you. That was until he bit down slightly and pulled the other nipple. “Ko- Eee! Kokichi!”

You clamped your thighs down around Kiibo’s head, unintentionally beckoning him closer to your sex. He took this opportunity to remove his fingers from you and replace them with his tongue, shoving it into your tight hole, and gripping at your thighs.

“Ka…Ki…Kii- I can’t, haaahh…”

Kokichi pulled his mouth off of your breast, licking your nipple one last time before resuming his position resting his head on your shoulder. He traced his hands along your torso again, tittering at your delicate moans.

“What a naughty y/n! You wouldn’t want my neighbors down the hall to hear you, would you? Or maybe you want Hajime or Rantaro coming in and seeing you all desperate and needy for Kiibo’s tongue. Perhaps Makoto. Is that it? You just need someone to see how much of a hopeless whore you are?”

You shook your head no, unable to speak because of the pleasure Kiibo was giving to you.

“Hmm, funny. That’s not what your book said!” he reached his hand into your hair, pulling at the base of the scalp, making you tighten your thighs around Kiibo even harder.

You could see Kiibo begin fo fall apart around you, his tongue becoming frantic as it fucked into your core, his LEDs lighting up with little hearts. Even his eyes had changed into heart shapes, and his ahoge curled itself to match. Fuck, it was cute. He moaned into your pussy, and you shook as you felt your high drawing closer.

“Awe, cat got your tongue? Well I guess your kitty has Kiibo’s tongue, nishishi!” You were so close to cumming. You could feel the tangle unraveling as each flick of Kiibo’s tongue sent shockwaves to your deepest parts.

“You’re so cute when you’re moaning like a slut. Unfortunately though, I’ve still yet to hear you say what you want from us, sweetie.” Kokichi reached for the remote, with you unable to do anything to stop him.

“No, wait!” But he had already pressed the button, and Kiibo lept back in surprise at the shock. The pressure between your legs ceased, and you were left bucking up into the air, desperate for any friction you could get.

Kokichi laughed, almost maniacally, at your ruined ecstasy. “Ready to tell me what you want me to do to you now, pretty little slut?”

You whined. If it weren’t for these stupid fucking handcuffs Kokichi would be so fucking dead. You weren’t giving in just yet though.

“I have more self control than that,” you spat at him. Kiibo resumed his position from before he was tongue-fucking you, with his head leaning on your thigh.

He hummed, grasping at the side of your leg. His eyes were totally glazed over now, and he looked almost…high. Maybe robots do get high? Just like, off of tongue fucking their friends.

He squeezed your thigh again, leaning against it like he was too drunk to hold his head up. “Come on, princess. Be a good girl and tell us so I can give you what you want.”

Woah. Kiibo’s voice was huskier than it was just a moment ago. Before, he pleaded to eat you out, basically begging you. Something must have fucking snapped in him though, because he was biting his lip and looking at you like he wanted to chase you down and devour you.

And it was hot.

You tensed your thighs again. Okay, maybe you didn’t have as much self control as you thought…

You whimpered. Kokichi and Kiibo both chuckled lowly.

“Come on, pretty girl. Please tell me what you want me to do. I’d just hate to have to leave you like this, just dripping wet.”

What the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK, KIIBO???

Mimicking his movements from before he was eating you out like you were his last fucking meal, Kiibo slipped his two fingers between your lower lips, letting your warmth cover his fingertips before dragging it up to your clit. You bucked your hips as he did. Gods, you were soaking.

Kokichi tugged lightly on one of your nipples, and you whined. “Oh, poor girl. Look how sensitive she is! It’s such a shame that she won’t just let herself go and tell the truth,” You felt his thumb and index finger catch your chin, and he turned your head around to face him.

Oh…

“Come on, little slut. Just be a good girl and tell us exactly what you want, and I promise we’ll give it to you.” You whined, for probably the tenth time this evening, and Kiibo gently rolled your clit with his index finger, not enough to satisfy you, but definitely enough to get you to break. Kokichi laughed.

“I… I wanna…fuck, I- I”

Kiibo leaned up to whisper to you, “Come on y/n, you can do it. Use your words, princess.”

Alright, THAT was the hottest thing a robot has ever said in the history of EVER.

“I wanna be t-touched. I wanna be marked. I want everyone to know that I belong to you two and that I’m your little plaything.” Your face was hot with embarrassment.

Kiibo finally sank a finger into your heat, making a come-hither motion with it. You cried out his name and tears started to form in your eyes, before you winced and shut them tight.

“Hmm,” Kiibo hummed, “gooood girl. Such a good girl.” His hand slid from your hip to your stomach, and he lowered his head to your pussy as he pushed you farther back into Kokichi. “Good fucking girl.”

Bzzzt.

Kokichi shocked Kiibo again, but instead of backing off like before, he delved into you further, and you felt the shocks on your inner thighs. You let out a pained moan. It hurt but it was so fucking good.

He totally did that shit on purpose.

You already could feel your high getting close again, and despite your wrists being bound, you managed to find Kokichi’s thigh and squeezed it.

He retaliated, smacking your thigh, as close to your ass as he could get without lifting more than just your leg. “Don’t be a fucking brat. I can call Kiibo off again. Do you want that?”

You vigorously shook your head no. “No, no please. Please, I’ll be good.”

“Apologize to me, y/n,” he grabbed your chin again, forcing your neck to turn this time. You knew he was enjoying the sight of you flushed and begging him for any sort of release. “Apologize to your supreme leader.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, please, just let me cum! I wanna cum, please!”

Before tonight you never expected that something of that caliber would come out of your mouth, but you were so desperate now, you just let it tumble out as you were getting the best tongue fucking you’d ever gotten.

“You can only cum if you say our names when you do,” Kokichi grinned.

You hardly gave a shit who heard you at this point. If everyone knew that Kiibo and Kokichi were making you a mess, so be it. You were theirs in the moment.

“Yes, I will, just, please!”

“Fine, I guess you can cum,” Kokichi feigned disinterest in your ordeal, and you were just about to let the knot in your abdomen unravel, when Kiibo shoved his tongue into your pussy as far as it would go and, to your complete astonishment,

it vibrated.

And you screamed out an amalgamation of both boys' names, riding out your orgasm, Kiibo lapping up your cum like he was dying of thirst.

As soon as it was over with, you felt the exhaustion set in, and you leaned into Kokichi, your face buried in his neck, not even caring that you had just shouted his name at the top of your lungs and the RA’s were probably going to give him a noise complaint.

Oh fucking well. His fault.

You heard the jangling of Kokichi undoing your cuffs. Before you could grab your wrists to rub the marks away, Kiibo took them in his own metal hands and did it for you. The feeling of his hands on your wrists, and Kokichi’s hand petting your hair arguably felt more intimate than the both of them making you cum.

Kiibo finally got off of his knees, and sat on the bed. He kissed your neck, your jawline, your cheek, all the while whispering little praises to you, still holding your hands.

“Good girl, you did so well. Thank you for letting us do that for you. So so good for us.”

Kokichi gently (Kokichi doing anything gently? Odd.) shifted you to Kiibo’s arms as he got off of the bed. Your eyelids felt weighted, but your heavy breathing had gone back to normal. Kiibo continued kissing your cheeks and holding you up, telling you how wonderful you were. The sounds of running water were lulling you barely into sleep.

Kokichi returned with a warm washcloth in hand. He lifted one of your lethargic legs, and then hesitated.

“Can I…? If you want to do it yourself that’s fine.”

You smiled a little bit. Kokichi was being kinda…sweet. You nodded, and he went to work gingerly cleaning you off. After he was done, he walked off and you heard him running the water again. It was Kiibo’s turn to clean off a bit, and he handed you over to Kokichi, who slid your panties back up your legs. Carefully, he leaned you back against the mattress and pulled the covers over you, him facing you. His arms fell around your waist, and yours around his, your face in his neck once again. His smaller body seemed bigger than usual as he was wrapped around you.

Kiibo shuffled out of the bathroom, and flicked off the light.

“Got a charging cord?” Kokichi asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got my retractable one.”

You couldn’t see anything, since you were facing the wall the bed was against, but you assumed the noises you were hearing was Kiibo plugging himself in, and that the weight next to you on the bed was the android climbing in with the two of you.

Kiibo wrapped his arms around you, his above Kokichi’s, and rested his chin on your shoulder.

It was kind of uncomfortable with the three of you together on a twin mattress, but it was nice. Kokichi and Kiibo were warm, and comfortable, and you were so, so tired.

“Your hair smells nice,” you felt Kiibo rumble next to your ear.

“Sorry, was that weird?”

You lifted your head to turn to him. “Nah. It was dorky, though. Thanks,” you chuckled a little.

“Thank you guys…for doing this for me. I mean, the diary thing I’m still totally gonna kill you over, Kokichi, but the rest was…nice.”

Kokichi grinned and laughed his stupid little laugh. “Nice is an understatement. You loved that.”

Quietly, so as to not disturb you, he mimicked your moans and whimpers from earlier. “Ahhh! Kiibo! Kokichi! Lemme cum, lemme cum!”

You flicked his head. “Oh shut up, dweeb.”

“I’m glad you liked it, though.” Kiibo mumbled.

“Pfft, I’m glad you liked it. Where did you learn to eat someone out like that?”

“I have internet access, y/n. I just did some of my own research,” he smirked.

“Neeeerrrrrrd,” you teased him.

“Whatever, just sleep. You’re exhausted, and my…” he paused to yawn, “battery needs to charge, too.”

“Alright, night guys.”

Kiibo had already changed to sleep mode, the whirring reminding you of a PC that had fallen asleep, and Kokichi looked like he was asleep, so you adjusted yourself back into a comfortable position and closed your eyes.

You were so tired that you almost didn’t feel it when Kokichi kissed your cheek.

Maybe today wasn’t that bad.

199 notes · View notes

ssadumba55 · 3 years ago

Text

Neverland (Peter Pan + Jane Darling X Reader)

Request: fanfic (or headcanons if you prefer) where Peter Pan, Jane Darling and Reader have adventure together! Reader always wanted to go on adventure and so they are very enthusiastic about it! If it helps, maybe something where they will have to climb trees?

The best part about being Jane Darling’s friend was listening to her tales of Neverland. After the brutalness of the war and all the uncertainty about how things would go back to normal, the stories of a boy who never grew up, who fought off pirates and had a friend who was a fairy were welcome distractions.

Jane loved telling them too, to anybody who would listen. After a while, the other children had grown tired of hearing the name Peter Pan but you never had. You still sat ever intently whenever she came to class, recounting her gallant tales of fighting Captain Hook and being the first ever Lost Girl.

It was late afternoon and the two of you were walking home from school. Jane was cheery as ever, she had been cheery ever since the war ended. You, on the other hand, never looked forward to the end of a school day. It just meant you got to go home and listen to your parents squabbling.

Peter Pan had the right idea, if that’s how grown ups acted, you never wanted to grow up either.

“Jane, do you think Peter Pan would ever take me on an adventure?” You kicked a rock on the path as you walked. The two of you were almost to the end of your street.

She tapped her chin as if she were thinking hard about the question. “I think Peter would love to. If I ever see him again, I shall let him know where you are. We could go on adventures together!”

Even though you were still dreading going home, her words lifted your spirits. An adventure with your best friend and the legendary Peter Pan would be amazing, maybe one day. Hopefully before you get too old to visit Neverland.

The two of you said your goodbyes and went off on your separate ways.

You briefly considered asking if you could stay the night at Jane’s but your parents would never let you. Instead, you made your way back home, sneaking up the stairs because your parents were in the middle of another argument. This was probably as good a time as any to do your homework.

That night, you tucked yourself in. It was a common occurrence in your household, your parents got so busy being mad at each other they forgot to tuck you in. That was okay though, you’d gotten pretty good at it yourself.

Who needed grown ups when you could do everything they could do already?

Tucked under your warm blankets, favourite stuffed animal at your side, you drifted off into dreamland. This was the only time the house was completely peaceful and..

Knock.

You snuggled into your blankets. Your mom must be knocking on your father’s door to apologize for whatever they’d been arguing about. Where were you in your dream again? Oh yeah, Peter Pan…

KNOCK! KNOCK!

The knocking was louder now and you sat up, slightly annoyed and disgruntled. It couldn’t be your mother, unless she was hoping to start another fight. But no, this noise was coming from inside your room. From… the window?

You rushed to open the window, it must be that dastardly wind again. It was always knocking tree branches into your- huh. That was odd. There was no wind at all.

You looked around, London looked so peaceful at night. Now that the city wasn’t under threat of attack, it felt a lot safer and warmer too. You wondered if anyone else felt the same way.

“(Y/n)! Hurry!” A familiar voice called and you poked your head out further. There, standing on the roof was Jane Darling. You had no idea how she’d gotten there or what was going on, but this looked like the beginning of an adventure.

You climbed over your window sill, not even caring if it was closed behind you. It wasn’t like your parents would even notice you missing anyway, there were far more important things to worry about.

You climbed carefully onto the roof, worried you might fall off if you weren’t careful.

“How’d you even get up here, Jane? There’s no way you climbed up here…”

She grinned, taking your hand. “Faith, trust and a little bit of pixie dust!”

Without saying another word, she lifted up into the air. She let go of your hand and spun around in the air, showing off that she could now fly. You waved your arms excitedly, this must mean that-

“You must be (Y/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you! Jane’s told me so much about you.” Peter Pan jumped out from behind you, scaring you half to death. Seeing your fear, he laughed and joined Jane in the sky.

“Tink! We’re going to need a little more pixie dust!”

The fairy began to sprinkle you with the shiny stuff, fluttering around and making tinkling sounds as she went. You laughed, waving to her and she waved back, returning to join Peter.

Both Jane and Peter took one of your hands and the three of you were off. Second star to the right, straight on until morning. Just like the stories Jane had told you. Only, you guess they weren’t stories anymore.

The landing in Neverland was a lot rougher than you’d been expecting, but maybe that was because almost as soon as you entered the mystical land, Captain Hook and his band of pirates were intent on shooting the three of you down.

Jane rolled her eyes in annoyance, as the three of you landed in a nearby tree.

“Those pirates will never leave us alone, will they?”

Peter let go of your hand, putting his hands on his hips instead.

“Eh, let em’ have their fun,” he brushed the pirates' antics off and began talking about all the adventures they could go on now that the two of you were there.

You tried to pay attention, you really did but there was so much to look at around you. You were in Neverland, THE Neverland from Jane’s tales. Oh! It was even more beautiful than she’d described it. If you squinted you were pretty sure you could see the mermaid lagoon from here.

By the time you came back to your senses, you realized Jane and Peter had wandered off, leaving you alone. Oh well! Time to do some exploring, this didn’t look like that big of an island anyway. If they really needed you they could come and find you. You really wanted to see that mermaid lagoon.

Now you’d really wished you’d stuck with Peter and Jane. The brisk air of the sea caught your pajamas, sending a shiver up your spine. You stood on the end of Captain Hook’s plank, hands tied behind your back. One more step and it’d be to your doom.

Even if you could swim (which you couldn’t), your hands were tied tightly and there was no way you’d be getting out of it.

“Go on, child,” Hook called from the safety of his ship. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat, if you were going out, you were going to go out dignified. You held your head high, stuck your foot out and…

“Got you!”

Just before you hit the water, someone swooped in to save you and you realized it was Jane. She laughed as she carried you over to shore.

“EN GARDE HOOK!” Peter’s voice echoed and the sound of metal on metal could be heard from behind you. Jane and the Lost Boys, who had been waiting for the two of you, helped untie you.

You glanced over your shoulder. “Is Peter going to be alright?”

The others waved you off.

“He does this all the time. Come on, we’re playing fairy tag. Gotta find Tink before she tags one of us.”

The Lost Boys pulled on you and Jane’s hands. You laughed, running after them to keep up. This sounded like an adventure you could handle! Eventually, Peter joined the group and there was a lot of howling and laughter. Trees were climbed eagerly, laughter was heard, jumps were made. Eventually though, you started to get tired. The others, used to being so active, continued on while you rested your head in a nearby field.

Just for five minutes then you’d be ready to go.

When you awoke, however, you were back in your bedroom. The window was closed, there was no knocking but best of all the house was silent. It was rarely silent in the morning. You got ready for school quickly, hurrying to meet Jane at your usual spot.

Last night must’ve surely been a dream. Even though it had all felt so real, there was no way you had met Peter Pan last night.

“Oh good! You made it home alright!” Jane cheerily said when the two of you met up. You tilted your head in confusion. Of course you had made it home alright, she had seen you walk back to your house.

The two of you walked in silence a few moments before she giggled. You glanced over at her.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, it’s just… Peter had to carry you home last night. Because no matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t wake you. He was very annoyed, next time you see him, I think you owe him an apology.”

Your jaw nearly dropped. So it hadn’t been a dream at all! You really had had an amazing adventure with Peter and Jane and all the Lost Boys last night.

Your eyes lit up when you realized exactly what she’d said. “Next time?”

“Peter likes you. All the Lost Boys do. No surprises there, though. You are my best friend!”

You felt your chest puff with pride. The best praise you could’ve ever gotten, if nothing else in your life went right, at least you would always have Jane and Neverland to think about when you were alone.

#disney imagine #disney x reader #jane darling x reader #jane darling imagine #peter pan x reader #peter pan imagine

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saey707 · 2 years ago

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Sentence Starters: Jayce

✿ “Forgive me.” & “I never should have left you.” ✿ ✿ Prompt: Jayce wishes he could have saved you ✿

♡ champion focus: jayce / arcane! jayce ♡ tws: character death, angst, grieving ♡ Gender-neutral reader

Author’s Note: This sentence starter will be connected to the first one I wrote for Viktor. You can check out Viktor’s perspective here! Enjoy <3

“Forgive me.” His desperate whisper ebbed forth, hot tears dripping onto the paled and gentle skin of his old companion. “I never should have left you…” His tan thumb was fervent as he swiped it across you cheek to smear the stain he left upon it.

“Come back… Come back to me. Please…”

“I’ll buy that big, beautiful house that you always told me about, even when you thought I wasn’t listening…” Bargaining. The first stage of his grief, cradling you in his arms, shaking his head.

“I’ll… I’ll be the one… you kiss when you walk out that door. Not V. Me… I’ll… Be the one you come home to… A-And we can have anything you want for dinner. Anything… Please. Wake up.” This never should have happened… Who else has he to blame but himself?

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It… It wasn’t…”

He was in denial.

The second stage of his grief. His nose poked against the lid of your half-shut eye. The beautiful colors of light and life, gone. Taken from him and glossed over with a dastardly, grey film. And even then, Jayce brought his lips to place a kiss over one of those beautiful eyelids, before shutting them for good, with whatever strength he had left to do so.

Even as he tried to find a familiar sense of beauty in your dead and dying light, he refused to deny the facts: You were dead. And it was all his fault.

You were dead, and still, he was as selfish as ever, finding himself longing for something he wished he had the courage to take long ago.

He was arrogant- What did you see in Viktor that you couldn’t in him? He always considered himself the perfect parallel to the sickly man, if not, more superior in all aspects!

Here, he reached stage three: Depression. Jayce was a fool to have not said anything sooner. He always envied the drawn out conversations you and his partner had in their lab... The way you smiled at Viktor. The way your words sung like vibrant melodies that should have only been reserved for him.

And fourth came anger. The desire to pass the blame. Jayce let you fall in love with Viktor. And he’ll regret it every day until the day he dies.

This all could have been prevented if Jayce just took the one good thing Viktor ever had going for him. Surely, this all could have been prevented! You fell in love with a man that was obviously incapable of loving anyone other than himself. Or so, that is what Jayce believed.

The lifeless body of the ethereal being he simultaneously thought irritating, yet absolutely adored, reflected in his gaze, throat burning as he picked you up, gentle as he slung you over his shoulder.

He would rather not do more damage to your mangled and man-handled temple.

His other hand moved to draw up the oversized hammer now.

How can he ever come to accept your death when this was the doing of one man he considered to be his best friend, his brother, at one point?

Angrily glaring at the man at the end of the bridge, he observed as the watcher adjusted the metal mask back onto his face before fading in the barons of Zaun.

Instead of accepting your death, all Jayce could do was feel hatred. Revenge and a newfound desire to put an end to Viktor’s bullshit “glorious evolution”.

But first, he had to return home.

Home, where you could be put to rest after a lifetime of suffering. Not to fulfill the visions he briefly had, nor to occupy a space with the living. But home: Where you could lay upon a bed of fresh flowers in the sun, waking to a vision only you would have the opportunity to foresee in all its colors. In all its life and eternity.

And if it wasn’t he- but instead, his old friend- you saw at the end of the path to freedom, with him holding out open arms to lay one last kiss- upon gorgeously curled forelocks- so be it…

So long as you were at peace, you wouldn’t have to fight another war he started.

You can rest now. And Jayce can keep fighting for you.

#saeybaewrites #tw #short #jayce #arcane x reader #arcane jayce #jayce x reader #arcane jayce x reader #jayce lol #league of legends x reader

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 4 years ago

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THE BOX IS NABOO

That’s it, I’m doing it, I’m writing that stupid meta I’ve had in the works for two and a half years, I’m sharing it with the world. I promised it for last Thursday, my poll was forever ago, but whatever! I’m writing that freaking thing.

(super duper long post, press j to skip)

Enter my rabbit hole.

First thing to establish: the Box makes no sense whatsoever in-universe.

((EDIT: Something I forgot to mention. IRL, the premise of a giant murder cube and the aesthetic - wall patterns, light designs, etc - of the episode come from the 1997 horror movie Cube, (see the episode’s wookieepedia page). However, while the two are very closely linked visually, the Box does not follow the movie structurally or narratively, as you can verify by simply reading the movie’s summary.))

Recap of the context for the "Box" episode (s4e17): Palpatine is planning his own kidnapping. It was never meant to succeed, and while the plan would obviously benefit him (making the Jedi look bad, pushing Anakin closer to the Dark Side, making Republic citizens more afraid -> more docile, etc...) his actual goal is never explained, and it’s weird that he’d go to such extreme lengths for results so minimal that we’re never told what they are.

So Palpatine asks Dooku to kidnap him at the Festival of Lights on Naboo. Dooku hires Moralo Eval to design a giant box-thingy to test bounty hunters to hire the best of them to kidnap Palpatine. Moralo then gets arrested to alert the Republic that something is afoot, and hires Cad Bane to break him out. Obi-Wan - undercover to learn Moralo’s plan - goes with them. They evade capture and go to Serenno, and Bane and Obi-Wan have to pass the box-thingy test. The level of brainkarked logic here... Truly on par with Megamind, Gru and Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

Setting aside the insane plot holes and utterly nonsensical behavior of the villains, the Box itself is moronic from a plot perspective. It’s insanely complex, obviously incredibly expensive and would have taken months (more like years but it’s a short war) to make when it’s not even needed for the dastardly plot! Just hire some guys who have already proven themselves against Jedi! Throw cash at Bane and Embo and a few others! Maybe attack them with your saber and see how they do!

And after all that, Dooku still ends up trying to kidnap Palpatine on his own. I can’t even...

So why does the Box exist? Well, apart from being a nerdy callback to Cube, giving us a good thrill and being generally awesome to look at, it has actual narrative purpose within the SW universe.

The box is Naboo.

What the Box lacks in plot relevance, it makes up for with its heavily symbolic meaning. It very closely follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s experiences on Naboo - but only certain parts, which I’ll explain later.

We start with clean, sterile environments, SW’s favored way of showing villainy.

Then we have the protagonists locked in a room as dioxis, a poison gas, pours in.

And then they escape... this way.

(Okay, here the shaft is down, not up. And it’s not a ventilation shaft per say, it’s the designed escape route. Same difference).

We then skip most of TPM (namely, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discovering the droid army, finding Padmé, leaving Naboo, landing on Tatooine, going to Coruscant, etc, etc) to come back to Naboo and go directly to the lightsabers and catwalks.

(Note: in both scenes, Obi-Wan has to propel himself from a catwalk.)

In TPM and TCW, the catwalks are immediately followed by ray shields

And we finally end with the last scenes. Now, they don’t look the same but they are structurally identical.

Obi-Wan is faced with a challenge unsuited for his abilities (facing Darth Maul // shooting three moving targets when he’s far more skilled with a blade than a blaster) on a narrow space above a melting pit/pit of fire.

He first watches someone die failing to complete the task...

... and has to do it himself, faring much better than expected (holding his own against Maul // shooting all the targets easily).

He then almost falls to his death and gets saved unexpectedly.

And then there’s the final showdown.

In both scenes, Obi-Wan is angry. And in TCW Dooku eggs him on, banking on his anger. (More on that later.) In both cases though, he centers himself and is able to overcome both his opponent and his own unbalance. But in TCW, he doesn’t go for the kill, because he doesn’t need to.

The Box, as a literal character-explorator ex-machina, thus shows us Obi-Wan’s growth.

In TPM, Obi-Wan follows Qui-Gon’s lead. In TCW, he is the leader. He identifies the gas, makes the plans. He doesn’t fall from catwalks anymore - he runs atop moving ones. He doesn’t stay stuck behind ray-shields, he finds the solution. (Btw, how did Moralo know what blood type Derrown the Exterminator was? There was a 50% chance of him dying - thus killing all of the bounty hunters. Was that an acceptable outcome? TCW I need answers!) He doesn’t slay his foes, because he’s become powerful enough, skilled enough and wise enough to survive (and win) without needing to kill.

He’s grown - and, even more interestingly, he’s also stayed the same. In the previous episodes, we see some of the dark aspects of Obi-Wan. How he - like all Force-wielders, all people - could lose himself if he stopped maintaining absolute control.

But in the Box, surrounded by the worst criminals of the Galaxy, the most ruthless, worthless people, he’s still kind and tries his best to keep them alive.

The Box is a reminder and a reassurance for the audience that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still there under Rako’s face. He hasn’t lost his compassion, his restrain. He’s still a Jedi. And he’s an awesome, badass one.

And now, for what it tells us about Dooku!

It’s much shorter, don’t worry. Basically, Dooku considers that the best way to pick “the best of the best” of the deadliest people in the Galaxy is making them go through what killed his Padawan. There, I’ve broken your hearts, you’re welcome.

More seriously, Dooku is a manipulative ass. It’s pretty clear that he knows Rako is Obi-Wan, or at the very least suspects it.

He has an interesting reaction upon learning Rako’s identity, he keeps praising him despite his usual distaste for low-lifes, he smirks secretively after Eval says “I’ll show you who’s weak” (not included there because it’s a close-up of Dooku’s lips and no one wants to see that) and he tells Rako he’s very disappointed when he doesn’t finish off Eval.

[Later]

(Look at this smug asshole - I can’t. YOUR GRANDSON IS THE BEST, WE KNOW, STOP ACTIVELY RUINING HIS LIFE ALREADY.)

(Dooku... why...)

Now obviously Dooku couldn’t have made the Box specifically for Obi-Wan, because it would have to have been designed months before the Council ever decided to send Obi-Wan undercover, but he has no qualms trying to use it to push Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Ffs Dooku, making your spiritual grandson relive one of the most traumatic events of his life on the off chance that he’ll join you (and desecrate his Master’s memory in doing so) is not okay!

Final tidbits of analysis: I mentioned that not all of TPM is mirrored in the Box. What’s omitted is the droids (even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight B1′s and droidekas between the dioxis and the ventilation shafts) and anything pertaining to Sidious (all the political stuff on Coruscant). You’ll also note that the fake lightsabers are orange.

=> The Box distances itself from anything that connects Dooku to Naboo. Red lightsabers are the trademark of the Sith, so they’re not used. The bounty hunters will be facing Jedi, so logically the fake sabers should be green or blue - and yet they’re orange, the color closest to red without being red. It fits with Dooku’s special brand of dishonesty - he always tells bits of the real story but twists them just enough to absolve himself of any fault and to justify his choices.

(”We can destroy the Sith” -> could maybe destroy Sidious with Obi-Wan, but fails to mention he’s a Sith Lord himself; “the Viceroy came to me for help, that’s why I’m attacking the Republic” -> political idealism is a small part of it, but fails to mention he’s Sidious’ underling and is playing the Viceroy like a fiddle; “Qui-Gon would have joined me” -> maybe, still fails to mention he’s working for the man who ordered Qui-Gon’s death; “I told you everything you needed to know” -> debatable, never said that Palps was Sidious; “Sifo-Dyas understood, that’s why he helped me” -> partly true, doesn’t admit to killing Sifo-Dyas right after getting his help)

So we have a twisted version of Naboo, droid-free (as droids are now irrevocably associated with Dooku, even if that wasn’t the case in TPM) and with sabers that aren’t quite red. Keep in mind that Dooku had already fallen by TPM. (We know this because he killed Sifo-Dyas and created the Clone Army - part of Sidious’ plan - when Valorum was still Chancellor, as per the episode The Lost One.) That means Dooku was (in)directly complicit in Qui-Gon’s death. And the Box doesn’t (=refuses to?) acknowledge that.

(Also omitted in the Box are the Gungans and Tatooine. It makes sense, because Dooku probably wouldn’t have the full details regarding those parts of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s missio as they weren’t as public, and would see them as irrelevant if he did. He utterly despises Anakin, and Gungans are the type of people he always dismisses out of hand).

Anyway, that’s my two cents about the Box. To quote Lucas...

“It’s like poetry. It rhymes.”

Thanks to @lethebantroubadour @impossiblybluebox @nonbinarywithaknife @ytoz and @kaitie85386 for voting for this one. Next up is a compilation of the Jedi being casually tactile with each other (because they’re a warm and affectionate culture, dammit).

Also thanks to @laciefuyu for giving me gifs I ended up not using ^^; you rock anyway!

#meta #my meta #the box #deception arc #rako hardeen #rako hardeen arc #naboo #obi-wan kenobi #count dooku #cad bane #moralo eval #darth sidious

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xiaophobic · 4 years ago

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Hi! I love your writing and I’ve never requested something before so I hope this is fine, could I request for c, h, k and j for Scaramouche?

sfw alphabet | scaramouche

LETTERS - c, h, k, j !! • 200 event !!

➷ C - cuddles :

small angry fatui man does not approve of such intimacy on a day-to-day basis, so incredibly rarely will you ever be granted to relinquish in such prolonged closeness with him. ...however, everyone can become touch-starved after a taste of intimacy, and because of you, he knows of such deprivation very well (due to what he’d label as his own ineptitude).

the closest you’ll probably ever get to him initiating anything of the sort is him sitting a little bit closer to you, just inching his limbs closer to yours. he won’t protest if you happen to link hands or arms with him (as though it weren’t his entire plan) — this is his preferred closeness.

➷ H - hugs :

“so incompetent.” he sneers at your request, turning his back to you in distaste. “what has led you to believe i would ever even consider—” he’s cut off by your embrace from behind. his mind buffers for a second as he registers that he’s being held, and a dastardly heat rushes to his face. he turns, fully prepared to yank you off him until you tighten your arms, sighing contently into his aggravated form. to think that someone could find solace within such destruction...

“fine.” is all he says in response to your efforts, all other verbal remarks falling flat on his tongue. he’s so awkward with trying to return it, patting your head and your back as though you were someone other than his significant other. “i’ll learn, okay? now get off.” and he means it. he’ll learn, or he’ll do his best.

➷ K - kisses :

“what’s this?” he coos, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. his sardonic nature builds anticipation, and the tension rises with each bat of his eyelashes as he studies you. he leans in close, ghosting his mouth over yours with a quirk of his brow. he’s toying with you, his trim fingers making their mark on your face with how concrete his hold is. “i thought you wanted to kiss me, no?” he doesn’t give you the chance to seize your opportunity before he retreats, releasing your face with a firm squeeze beforehand.

the times you do kiss, he’s rough. his hand resides on the back of your neck, guiding you to him. you ponder whether it’s possessiveness or he simply knows no other method, though both answers hold a solution. if he listens to anyone, it’s you (with great reluctance). when you scold him, he scoffs, wiping his swollen lips and gazing away, his brows furrowed. “...right.” he huffs frustratedly, composing himself. love is too complicated. “.....sorry.”

➷ J - jealousy :

the absolute worst. he has no patience for any customs that interfere with what he values most, that being your relationship, so he’s not going to maintain a front like he would in other situations. “if you so much as cherish your feeble little life, you will remove yourself.”

“they were getting entirely too close! no — you — do not lecture me about my methods!” you two argue over his strategy for hours on end only to arrive at the same conclusion every time. “if i promise to think before i act so...“rashly” next time, can we move on from this idiotic exchange?” ...scaramouche does not keep his promise. in fact, scaramouche becomes increasingly more violent with every dullard that dares to try their hand at you. so, he’s entirely too jealous.

i wanted to write him soft but it just...wouldn’t be correct LMAO we all know he’s emotionally unavailable in all aspects (in all seriousness, this is lowkey toxic. please do not seek out relationships similar to this depiction.)

#atlas hits 200 !!#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin oneshot #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche genshin #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche genshin x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader genshin impact

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

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Melted Mask

awitchbravestheverge prompt: I don't know if you're still taking prompts but you are a master of hurt/comfort and would sell you my soul for some of that for Janus. Maybe where he's feeling insecure or like he's worn out his welcome post acceptance, or maybe a little touch starved, or both. Preferably with Virgil or Patton as the comforter, but if not thats ok. I just have a never-ending need for fic where people are soft and gentle with the snake boy, and I love everything you write with my whole heart

Thanks for the request, babe!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: DLAMPR, focus on anxceit and moceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide I don’t mind

Warnings: uhhh sympathetic deceit and remus

Word Count: 4804

“How many masks of your own face are you currently wearing?”

“At least four.”

Between the gloves, the cape, and the hat, there’s not an awful lot of Janus that is seen most of the time. Not that he particularly minds. There is a certain benefit that layers upon layers of clothing provides. One, they’re perfect for concealing his cane—the others always look so surprised when he summons it from nowhere. Two, he is Dark Side, thanks to Roman’s fantastic naming system. There is an aesthetic standard that must be met. What was he going to do, show up in some ratted old hoodie?

Three, well—there is an awful lot to look at. If the others are focused on the clasps at his throat, the shock of the yellow gloves, the logo hidden under the black fabric, they’re not looking at him.

If they were, they’d see his scales.

He is the only side with a visible animal trait, after all. The scales cover the left side of his face, down beneath his collar. He doesn’t mind the stares—come on, it’s so easy to catch them off guard, how could he?—but sometimes he does wonder if they’ll ever get used to it.

To him.

The scales are a reminder. That he’s different. That he’s not like them. He’s not like the others, he doesn’t look like Thomas, at least not to the extent that they do. Thomas doesn’t have golden scales along the side of his face. Thomas doesn’t have a mouth that curves up along his cheek. Thomas doesn’t have a slit-eye pupil. No, no, Thomas is normal.

How dreadful.

Then, of course, there are the lies.

‘Deceit.’ Such a funny word. And so…polarizing.

‘Deceitful,’ ‘dishonest,’ ‘dastardly’—lot of ‘d’s, here, hmm?—all of the words that just mean he’s a liar. And lying must be bad, right? So it follows logically then, because we simply adore logic in this house, that he must be bad.

He’s not to be trusted, he’s a liar. He’s not honest, he’s a liar. They have to double and triple-check everything he says because he’s a liar.

They always conveniently seem to forget that you can always trust a dishonest person to be dishonest. It’s the truthful ones you have to watch out for.

Janus knows he’s a liar. Frankly, he’s quite proud of it. He’s gotten very good at it too; twisting the words together just right in order to tug slightly at a heartstring there, block off just a little rationality there, get the job done. The others always get caught up in his words, too busy focusing on the minutia of it, the details, leaving him free to step around them and speak to Thomas.

They see the gloves, they see the scales, they see the lies.

They see the masks.

Oh, sometimes he’ll put on a little bit more of a show if he needs to make a point, if the normal masks aren’t quite enough to get Thomas to listen. He’ll tie a hoodie around his shoulders, push a pair of glasses up his nose, knot a tie around his neck. Problem is…those ones are a little easier to see through. No matter how hard he tries, all of his disguises end up being a self-portrait.

Which is how he ended up here.

“You know the rules,” Patton says, his hands on his hips, “no impersonating others outside of filming!”

Janus rolls his eyes and idly flicks a speck of dirt off one of his gloves. “Oh, please. You don’t want me to do it during filming either.”

“No, I don’t, but we made a compromise, kiddo, now we both have to stick to it.”

Janus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m sure the others will be relieved to hear so.”

“What have we said about impersonations?”

He sighs. “The others may be idiots—“

“Oi!”

“—but idiots are also deserving of respect,” Janus finishes, glancing at Virgil draped over the back of the couch. “And I would never dream of being anything less than perfectly respectful.”

Virgil snorts. “What do you even get out of it anyway?” He sits up a little straighter. “Wait, you haven’t been tricking Roman into telling you how to impersonate us better, have you?”

“Now why would I do that?”

“Janus!”

“What? Like you don’t make a habit of going to the others for advice.”

“There’s a difference between openly asking for it and tricking them into giving it to you.”

Janus levels a stare at him. “I suppose there is, isn’t there?”

“Hey!” Patton steps between them. “That’s enough.”

“Oh, well—“ Janus makes a show of resettling his cape—“if you say so.”

Patton sighs. “Janus, we are trying, okay? You heard Thomas, you’re…well, you’re more welcome now.”

“And you’re doing a marvelous job of that.”

Patton doesn’t quite deflate, but it’s close. “Well, maybe we could all try a little harder.” He gives Janus a pointed look.

“Yes, I’m sure my efforts will be richly rewarded.”

“Well, you could start by showing up as yourself more often.”

“Myself?” Janus gasps theatrically, putting a gloved hand to his scales. “Who’s that?”

“Dude,” Virgil sniggers—Virgil did always appreciate his sense of humor—“how many masks of your own face are you currently wearing”

“At least four.”

Patton lets him go with another verbal slap on the wrist and Virgil flips him off. Janus sinks out, striding down the hallway near his room. It’s quieter here. The walls hum a little less. He can think.

He hadn’t gone to Roman to gets tips on his acting. He’d gone because Roman doesn’t want to talk to Janus.

Janus, the liar. Janus, the manipulator. Janus, the Dark Side.

Janus shuts the door of his room and instinctively slumps, the cape hanging off his shoulders. He knows Patton means well, and Virgil��s…Virgil, but sometimes it stings a little more than it should. Not that the others will ever see it.

He’ll never forget the look on Thomas’s face when Logan said he was the side that acts with the one priority of self-preservation. Of how it instantly demonized the idea of protecting yourself. Of Thomas keeping himself safe.

He looks at his hands, sees the gloves. They still don’t fit quite right, even after all these years. He can’t get the seams to run down the sides of the fingers, not curve around to the front or the back. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. Especially considering how much use he’s gotten out of them.

Lying kept Thomas alive. It kept him safe. He helped keep Thomas safe. When Virgil couldn’t breathe, when Logan faltered, when Patton froze, Janus would quietly make his way over to Roman and whisper a suggestion. Just a suggestion. To lie. To keep Thomas safe. To get them out of here. And it saved them. So many times.

Janus walks over to the mirror. It’s a fairly modest thing; about the size of a small sink, oval, large enough so he can see himself completely if he takes a few steps back. He ignores his own face and reaches for the golden latch on the side. He turns it.

The cabinet swings open to reveal a dark velvet interior with several small podiums. Each has a thin mask laid atop it. They gleam in the low light of the room. Janus reaches out and carefully makes sure each is perfectly centered. As he does so, his gloves linger on the fine print beneath the podiums.

Everyone has masks. Versions of themselves to present to the world when they need to. A mask that keeps you safe, a mask that keeps you alive, a mask that has the courage to speak when you don’t. The mask they wear around their homophobic relatives, the mask they wear when they need to make a phone call, the mask they wear when they need to pretend they’re something they’re not.

Janus is very, very good at making masks.

He never wears these. These are for Thomas. When Thomas needs help, Janus slips one of these out of the cabinet and sets it on the desk in front of the mirror. He looks at it, then at the mirror, and works. These masks are what helps Thomas.

He shuts the cabinet with a decisive click, suddenly confronted with his own face.

Janus is so good at making masks that he doesn’t even need a mask to wear one.

A mask because you’re the bad guy. A mask because you can never be trusted. A mask because when you try to be vulnerable they won’t listen. A mask because they don’t want you, they want the character that you embody to survive.

He pities the others sometimes. They don’t have these masks and they hurt. They can’t distance themselves, pull away just a little more, embody a role so that when it’s over, when they’re safe again, they can take it off and breathe. But they don’t. So they just get hurt. Over and over and over.

Janus’s lips involuntarily curl up into a snarl. The hand on the mirror closes into a fist.

They’re not supposed to get hurt. That’s not how this is supposed to work.

He’s not supposed to hurt them.

Part of him argues that he has to. If he keeps working the way he’s been working he can get right to Thomas, who is who needs the most protection. If he tries to do it their way they risk Thomas getting hurt and Janus won’t have that.

Part of him whispers that this is good for them. If he can make them a little tougher, help them get thicker skin, they’ll be safer. And then it won’t matter if they hate him. They’ll be safe. That’s all he cares about.

The rest of him—

…well, the rest of him is currently the reason he’s having trouble looking in the mirror right now.

The problem with wearing so many masks is that it becomes harder and harder to figure what’s the mask and what’s not. And he’s gotten so good at making them that now…now he doesn’t have to think about it.

A mask for when Logan asks to debate about philosophy. A mask for when Remus wants him to help him and Roman make something new. A mask for when Patton wants to bake. A mask for when Virgil comes to him for help.

A mask for all of them. A mask for none of them.

Janus doesn’t want to wear the masks all the time. He wants them to be warm, to care, to smile when he comes into the room, or even ask where he is. He wants to laugh as Patton smears batter all over his nose accidentally. He wants to listen to Logan ramble about some new advancement in quantum gravity. He wants Virgil to come plop down next to him while everyone else is in the living room. He wants Remus to stay with him while they watch the others get into ridiculous fights over board games. He wants Roman to not be afraid to come talk to him.

He wants.

Janus is selfish.

But he isn’t stupid.

He knows they don’t want him. He knows they don’t want him, even without the masks. Deep down, he knows they don’t need him either.

But Thomas does.

So here Janus will stay, in the dark, in the cold, wearing too many masks of his own face to keep count.

—————————————————————

The Mindscape is cold. It never quite feels solid. Drafts blow in and out of the walls, through the little gaps in the floor, from places that Janus can’t find, no matter how many times he looks for them. He bundles himself up in his cloak and his hat and does his best to hold still, sink in as much warmth as he can. He sneaks up behind the others, pressing himself up near them, purring in their ears, just to snatch their body heat. They always shove him away with flustered protests and blushy little faces. They’re so adorable.

Plus, he knows that’s all he’s ever really going to get from them.

But he’s cold, goddamnit. Why do they keep the air conditioning so high in this house? Snakes are cold-blooded. They get slow. Lethargic. Hypothermic, if it gets very bad.

Janus can’t afford to be slow.

So he wears his gloves, his cape, his hat. He stands opposite the window so he can get the most sunlight. He finds the patches of warmth where none of the others will find him and he can curl up for the warmth he needs...

…and fine, maybe it’s a little more than just being cold.

The others are…touchy. Patton throws his arm around just about everyone. Bumps his hip against theirs. Pats their shoulders, squeezes their hands, kisses their cheeks. Roman sweeps people into his arms, pulls them in for hugs, keeps an arm around their waists for as long as he’s allowed. Remus can and will just tackle whoever he wants. Logan holds himself a little further away, but even he’ll lay a comforting hand on someone’s arm. Janus will admit he was shocked when Virgil started exhibiting spider characteristics. That Side is a cat and you will not convince him otherwise. And everyone knows if a cat falls asleep on you, you’re not allowed to move until it wakes up.

Not that Virgil has fallen asleep on him recently.

Janus is not too proud to admit that at first, he didn’t want their touches. He had a job to do, he didn’t need to be distracted. But now…now he does.

He sees the way they move around each other and it stings. The accidental brushes he gets from standing too close or when they aren’t thinking about it sear through layers and layers of clothing to burn into his skin. When he stays close to them—close, but not too close—his whole side begins to tingle, reaching for them, their warmth, for them. But now it’s too late. His mask is already firmly in place and they know Deceit hates being touched.

That’s another reason for the layers. For the gloves.

Janus knows that if they ever touch him directly, skin to skin, his mask will shatter. And that is too dangerous to risk. With his gloves, his cape, his hat, his masks, the only way that would happen is if one of them tried to touch his face.

And that is certainly very likely indeed.

The clothes give him a barrier. A last line of defense. No touch is better than unexpected touch.

But that doesn’t stop him from being cold.

He can tell it’s going to happen when he can’t quite close his fingers around the end of his staff in the middle of their conversation. His gloves don’t catch on the wood quite right and he has to fumble to grab it properly. He glances up. No one’s looking at him.

Are they ever?

He tucks his hands smoothly out of sight, frantically burrowing them into his cloak to see if they’ll warm up. He locks his knees. No good. His fingers start to hurt as he flexes them. They’re still not moving faster. It’s cold.

He glances at the clock. Two minutes. He can last two minutes. Or so he thinks, until his jaw starts to clench. He clenches it harder, ignoring the protest from his neck, his shoulders, trying to make it stop. He takes a deep slow breath and tries to relax, to stop his muscles from tensing. It works, barely.

One minute.

His hands aren’t responding properly. He can barely move his fingers. He just needs to get out of here. If he gets out of here he can get warm. He has his electric blanket, he has everything he needs. He just needs to leave.

Thirty seconds.

The conversation draws to a close and Janus nods deeply, tossing one last barb over his shoulder as he sinks out, only to collapse in the hallway as soon as he does. A draft flows out right next to his shoulder, freezing fingers dancing up his arm, along the back of his neck, diving into his collar to snatch more of his warmth. He curses, heaves himself to his feet, and makes it to his room. It’s so cold.

Something tugs in his chest. No, no—!

“I suppose there must be a good reason for summoning me back,” Janus drawls, snapping his gloves right back into place as he appears in the living room.

Patton and Virgil stare back at him. Patton fidgets with his hands. “W-well, we, uh, I had a question for you.”

Damn. “Well.” Janus spreads his arms, trying to play off how slow he’s moving for dramatic effect. “I’m here. Ask away.”

“I, uh, a few days ago you mentioned that you didn’t feel as welcome here.” Patton looks at him with such an expression of sincerity that it makes Janus’s tongue itch. “And I wanted to know what I could do to help.”

“Aren’t you sweet?”

Patton won’t be deterred, it seems. He stares at Janus, resolute as ever. It’s so cold in here he’s going to start slurring in a moment.

“Janus?”

“That is my name, yes.”

“Are you…are you feeling alright?”

Janus gestures to himself, movements growing slower by the second. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

Slow. Too slow.

Patton frowns. He gives him a look. “You don’t seem like you normally are, are you sure?”

“I am entirely in one piece.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Honey, if you’re looking for a straight answer, I’m afraid you’re looking in the wrong place.”

Virgil moves. Right, Virgil was here too. Janus is slow. Too slow. He can’t move. He can’t get away. His mask forms a bored expression on his face, quirking an eyebrow. Virgil approaches him and holds out a hand. A cold part of Janus’s chest leaps.

The lips of the mask part. “And what exactly do you intend to do with that?”

“This,” Virgil mutters, and cups the side of Janus’s face.

Everything stops.

Distantly, he feels Virgil’s hand leave his face. Hears something about being too cold. Sees a blur of blue rush away. But all he can focus on is—

Warm. Virgil touched you. Warm. Warm. So warm. Keep the mask on. Don’t let the mask slip. Warm. If the mask slips everything will be ruined. Warm. Don’t you remember how to take the mask off? Virgil. Patton. Warm.

“Janus? Janus!”

Janus blinks. Virgil is still standing in front of him. There’s a little wrinkle between his brows. The mask is frozen in place, iced into a neutral expression.

“Hey,” Virgil says quietly, “you’re freezing, bud. You gotta get warm.”

Janus can’t speak. The mask is so cold.

“You remember what happens when you get too cold,” Virgil continues, taking a step closer. Janus can’t move. Virgil’s frown deepens and he tilts his head. “What’s going on, Janus, you don’t normally let it get this bad.”

Yes, Virgil, we’re aware.

“You could’ve asked, dude,” Virgil says, taking another step closer, a little exasperation mingling with the concern, “any of us.”

The mask smirks. Barely. “Yes, because I’m sure everyone would be so willing to cuddle me so I could steal their body heat.”

“You don’t know that.” The mask doesn’t move. Virgil glances over his shoulder. When he speaks next, his voice is lowered to a whisper.

“You don’t have to keep that on right now, Jan,” he says quietly, “it’s okay. It’s just me. I know you. You can…you know. Emote and stuff.”

Janus huffs a laugh. It’s weak.

“You ever wear a mask so long you forget how to take it off?”

Vigil pauses. “Huh?”

“Ever pretended to be something for so long you forget which is real and which isn’t?” Janus’s smile turns sad. “Made yourself believe it too?”

Virgil’s eyes close for a second. When he opens them, the concern in his gaze takes the last of the warm breath from Janus’s lungs. “Does this have anything to do with…?” He waves in Janus’s direction.

Janus nods, slowly, so slowly. “I can’t. Because I’ve been…I’ve been trained out of it. I built my masks to hide behind. And now I can’t take them off.”

“And we haven’t been good about helping you do that, huh.” He sounds so tired. He’s been through so much…

“I’m…”

The mask won’t let him apologize.

Like they would ever accept it.

“No, no,” Virgil says, “don’t apologize. You aren’t to blame for what you’ve been put through.”

Oh, Virgil…

Virgil glances over his shoulder. Then he shakes his head. “Just…look, go.”

“What?”

“I know this isn’t the time to talk about stuff. You’re not in any sort of shape to do that and Patton will understand. Go get warm.” He gives Janus a pointed look. “You take care of yourself first, okay?”

He tries. He goes back to his room and buries himself in blankets, in pillows, in more layers than he can stand. The pressure is good but it’s still so cold. The weight of the electric blanket is nothing compared to the warmth of Virgil’s hand. Everything in here smells sterile, clinical, detached. It’s all so cold.

You take care of yourself.

The last sentence rings through his head late at night. He wants. But everyone’s probably asleep by now, and god knows they need to sleep. Surely it’ll be alright if he just goes to the living room? That’s not too far, right?

There’s a fire going in the fireplace—since when did they have a fireplace? And there’s someone sitting on the couch. Hmm. Maybe if…if he’s quiet, if he doesn’t make too much noise, he can slip in and soak up some of the warmth.

Virgil turns around.

“Hey, Janus,” he murmurs, standing, and comes over to him. “Can’t sleep?”

Janus shakes his head. It’s warm in here, but he’s still cold. Virgil can see that, apparently.

“Here,” he says, handing him a cup of tea that appeared out of thin air, “drink. It’ll warm you up.”

Janus takes it cautiously. Isn’t it Virgil’s? There’s no way Virgil would’ve know Janus was coming…right?

“This is my third one, figure I should let you catch up first.”

He gestures to the couch, an encouraging smile on his lips.

“Sit. C’mon”

Janus does, sinking into the plush couch and cradling the warm mug in his hands. The couch groans as Virgil sits next to him. He can feel Virgil just out of reach, just there…

“I like watching the fire,” comes a low voice from next to him as he sips the tea. “Helps me think. Or stop thinking.”

He keeps talking in that low voice and the warm tea flows through Janus, sapping the cold slowly away from his body.

Distantly, he feels someone steering him down onto the couch, and heavy arms around him.

“Or maybe you just need a cuddle. Go to sleep, Janus.”

—————————————————————

“ — stop twitching, Remus! You’ll make a mistake!”

“Stop tugging his arm all over the place and then you won’t.”

“Will you two pipe the fuck down? You’re gonna wake him up.”

“Says the loudmouth!”

“Roman, stop it.”

“Stop moving his arm!”

What is…? He’s lying on something. It’s warm, really warm. It smells like…coffee, makeup, and…cinnamon? He shifts slightly, and oh he slept on his neck wrong. A low groan escapes his throat.

His pillow stiffens. “Shit. He’s awake.”

“Good going, Remus.”

“You were the one yelling!”

“Shut the fuck up, both of you.” The chest underneath him vibrates. “Shh, snake-face, go back to sleep. You’re alright. Go back to sleep.”

Janus shifts again, trying to look around, but he’s held down by another strong arm. A hand cards itself through his hair—where’s his hat? “Shh, be still, buddy, you’re okay. Can’t we get you back to sleep?”

“What…’s going on?” His tongue feels heavy, swelling up in his mouth.

“I believe the chances of getting him back to sleep will increase if you tell him what you’re doing.”

It’s…Logan? He appears, fuzzy but definitely there, over the back of the couch. Janus tries to turn to make it easier to see him but his right arm is pinned and he can’t move—

“Easy, J, easy, shh, shh, you’re okay, you’re safe, just keep your arm nice and still, okay?” Virgil, it’s Virgil he’s lying on, runs his hand through his hair again. “I’m pretty sure Roman would pitch a fit.”

“Hah.” Roman snorts from somewhere close to the ground. “If this got ruined, yours would be too.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going last,” Remus says, “this wouldn’t’ve been an issue.”

And then he feels it. Something is drawn sharply across his right wrist.

“Shh, shh, Janus, breathe, breathe, you’re okay, damnit, Princey, stop! You’re making him freak out!”

It’s gone, the contact is gone. His arm is still hanging over the edge of the couch but it’s held there by Virgil’s arm and another hand.

“Hey there, Snakey.” Remus appears over Virgil’s shoulder. “You’re okay. We’re just making sure you’re okay.”

Roman snorts. “There’s something wrong with how you phrased that.”

Then suddenly Patton appears out of nowhere and doesn’t surprise him at all. Luckily, or unluckily, Janus is far too exhausted and disoriented to react more than rucking up the fabric of Virgil’s hoodie a little. Patton looks at the couch.

“There isn’t room, Pop-star,” Virgil says, lazily stretching so his bulk takes up all of it, moving slow enough so Janus isn’t jostled too much. Then Virgil yelps and their lower bodies are lifted and he can feel the couch sag under another body.

“What the hell, Pat.”

“Now there’s room.” Patton reaches up and ruffles Virgil’s hair.

There are so many people and it’s warm but why are they all here? Did he miss something? Does he need to leave?

“Looks good,” Patton says, interrupting his train of thought, “it’s coming along well.”

Logan clears his throat. “Would someone like to inform Janus about what exactly ‘this’ is?”

“Oh, right, sorry, Snakey,” Remus says, crouching back down, “let’s show you.”

Virgil turns over slowly, lifting his arm and using the leverage to shift Janus onto his chest. “Jeez, Janus, you’re light. Patton, have we been feeding him enough?”

“I suspect there’s been a lack of communication, kiddo.”

“Now is not the time to yell at him, Patton,” Logan says quietly.

“I’m not yelling! But yes, now is not the time.”

Virgil coaxes his head to one side, and Roman lifts his arm by the back of his hand.

Janus’s mouth drops open.

There are little animals drawn on his right arm, from his wrist to his elbow. There’s a navy cat, simple and clean, near the vein. A light blue frog with little glasses. A purple and black spider. A green octopus with large black tentacles. And an unfinished red dragon right near his wrist.

“If I could finish,” Roman asks softly.

“Alright, calm down, here.” Remus lowers his arm and holds it steady. Roman puts the brush back to his arm and starts painting again. Virgil and Remus start arguing about something, probably, but he can’t focus on anything besides the soft bristles of the brush on his arm, the rumble of Virgil’s chest, and the warmth of the weight on his legs.

Logan stands behind his head. “You don’t need to wear a mask here, Janus,” he says softly, “not unless you want to.”

No one else hears him except for Patton. He gives Janus’s leg a squeeze.

It’s warm. It’s so warm.

He wants to watch as Roman paints the dragon but he’s tired but he doesn’t want to sleep yet…not just yet.

Patton reaches towards his face. His finger lands on his forehead and drags gently down the bridge of his nose.

What…?

Oh.

As he follows his touch, Janus’s eyes drift closed.

It’s so warm.

And a warm hand on his cheek wipes the last of the mask away.

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pinkmirth · 4 years ago

Text

—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven’t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps.

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

“Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?”

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

#bnha thirst #mha thirst #bakugou imagines #bnha Imagines #Katsuki Bakugou imagines #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x female reader #bnha insert #mha insert #Bakugou smut #bnha smut #harmoni writes

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