#1. spoiled little girl throwing a tantrum | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lixis-sin-cauldron · 4 years ago

Text

Father Figure: Punishment [Eraser Head | Shouta Aizawa]

Rating: Explicit 18+ content MINORS DNI. Pairing: Shouta Aizawa (Eraser Head) X fem!reader Word Count: 4.4k Kinks and Warnings: noncon, pseudo-incest, slight somno, vaginal fingering, oral, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, creampie, abuse of trust, restraints, everything bad. Seriously. Aizawa is not a good dude in this.

Summary: Aizawa had taken you in and raised you, loved you. Fought off his urges for so long, but when he found out who you were hanging out with he couldn't control his anger. You just didn't get why he was upset, no matter how hard he tried to explain. If you refused to listen, to understand; he'd have to punish you until you did.

Notes: This fic was inspired by @shorkbrian’s Aizawa fics – Father Figure part 1 and 2. Written with permission as a kind of 1.5 of what the first time Aizawa forced his stepdaughter was like. For an overall understanding of what the story between Aizawa and the reader is please read at least part one first, though it was the paragraph about the scene in part two that made me want to write this.

Links to the fics are here: Part One and Part Two

Can also be read on Ao3 here: Father Figure: Punishment Big thank you to the @dymphnasprose for beta reading this.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are actively consenting to see adult, and possibly disturbing, content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it. The tags and warnings there to ensure you are fully aware of what content you will encounter before reading, if you proceed knowing something will upset you - you did that to yourself and that is not my responsibility. [further info on this concept here] [and here] [and here]

It was a slow boil at first, Aizawa’s anger, since he wasn’t a man who got angry easily. Yet, when he saw you get out of the car after a day out, saw the ‘friends’ you’d spent the day with, saw you hug those boys goodbye. That they dare ever touch his daughter – well, he felt fury at that moment, barely restrained when you walked into the house.

He tried to make you understand. See how stupid and dangerous it was to be alone with them, how upset he was that you had kept the fact you had male friends secret from him. Even if you were grown up now, you were still weak and so innocent to how men think. You just didn’t get it, how much he worried about you.

How much he loved you.

His fingers tapped in an unsteady rhythm against the wood of his desk while he tried to calm down in his study. Tried to control himself like always did when it involved how he felt about you, but the fire inside was raging and refused to quiet.

How could you not tell him who you were with? Surround yourself with those beasts? He could still smell their stench on you after they hugged you.

A dark thought came to him, what if they had already had you? Spoiled you?

No, no. He knew that wasn’t possible. Not yet, you still felt the same. He would know, he could feel it. You were still pure, untouched… but for how much longer? How long until one or more of them thought they could try to taint you?

You were his baby girl, his darling. It was Aizawa who had taken you into his home. It was him who had raised you, taught you, cared for you like no one else ever could. He loved you more than air itself. After all he had done, he had earned you.

He had earned you.

He finally boiled over, standing so suddenly that his chair toppled over and clattered to the ground. If you wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t see he was right about those boys…

He’d make you understand.

You looked so angelic, nestled into piles of blankets on your bed in nothing but a nightshirt and panties; your chest raising up and down gently as you slept. His own chest swelled with love at the sight, wanting to slip in beside you and take you in his arms – it was one of his favorite things to do with you, napping together. Feeling your soft curves as he held you, your cute little ass pressing against him.

The fact you had never even noticed the hard-on he hid during those naps showed just how naïve you were to the world of men.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, heavy with sleep, as you felt your body shift and arms move. Aizawa came into focus, confusion at the sight of the man you called your stepfather.

“D-dad?” You muttered as you registered the man hovering over you. Your confusion slipped into panic as you noticed the tight grip he had on your wrists, wincing at the pain that came as he pressed them together against your headboard with one hand. “Dad! What-what are you doing?” you cried, struggling against the tight hold.

He shushed you, “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He purred, brushing away a few strands of hair that had clung to your lips in your sleep.

“Let go!” You were screaming now, twisting and turning in his hold. You tried to kick at him, but he was sitting on your waist, locking you in place so only the lower parts of your legs could flail around, failing to reach him.

“I’m almost done.”

You felt a soft material brush against your tender wrists, wrapping around them. You look up, trying to make out what it was in the darkness of the room. The shape of a long cord came into focus as your eyes adjusted to the dark, binding your wrists to one of the thick poles that decorate your headboard.

The binding tightened against your skin as Aizawa pulled it into a knot, locking your hands in place above you.

“Stop! Let me go!” You demanded again, trying to wrench your hands free.

“Stop,” he growled, grabbing your cheeks rough, forcing you to settle your gaze on him, “It’s just me, baby girl. Just Daddy.” He cooed; his harsh tone having disappeared as quickly as it came.

“W-why are you-? What are you doing?”

“As much as I want to feel your arms around me, I know it will be easier for both of us like this. I promise I’ll untie you when we’re done.”

“D-done? What are you talking about, what are you going to do?”

“I tried to make you understand before, but you just wouldn’t listen.” He shook his head; hand sliding from your face.

“This is about earlier? A-about my friends? I told you-”

“Just because you think you know them; doesn’t mean you do. I won’t let them taint you. I love you too much to let that happen.” He stroked your cheek gently as he spoke, a loving smile on his lips as he stared at you.

“I-I l-love you too, Dad. I’m sorry I upset you. I promise I’ll be careful around them and-”

“You don’t understand,” he growled again, shaking his head angrily, “but that’s okay. You don’t have to. I’m going to take care of you, that’s what Daddies do. They take care of their little girls.”

“You’re scaring me!” you cried, tears coming to your eyes as you started struggling against the weight of him on top of you, trying to throw him off.

A soft groan from him caused you to freeze, feeling something hard against your hips where he sat. “D-dad?” you whimpered.

His eyes were closed as he sighed through parted lips, slowly opening them and giving you a sweet smile as he came back from whatever headspace he had been in as you had struggled under him, “Nothing to worry about, Baby,” his placed his hands on your sides, fingers slipping under the fabric of your nightshirt, “I know this can be a scary thing, but I promise to make you feel so good. I’ll take my time with you, show you how much I love you.”

“N-no, d-don’t touch me.” You begged, trying to pull away from the touch, retreating into your bed to no avail.

His course hands glided up, dragging the shirt as he moved and exposing your skin. As he reached the soft mounds hidden beneath he pulled the shirt over them to bring them to view. He let out a long sigh at the sight.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect. Such cute, perky breasts.” He trailed a finger over a nipple, circling it.

“No, no, no,” you whimpered, deep sobs breaking between each rendition of the word, “please, no.”

Aizawa paused, bringing his hand to your face and brushing away tears from your cheek gently with his thumb, “Crocodile tears have never worked on me, remember? I know you don’t want to be in trouble, but this needs to happen. You need to understand. I’m the only one who really loves you, who has been there for you forever. The only man you’ll ever need.” He pressed his lips to yours as he finished speaking.

You bit him.

He reeled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and glancing to see if there was blood. There wasn’t but his lip throbbed from the attempt. He glared at you before slamming his palm into your shoulder and pressing you into the mattress.

Your head bobbed violently with the impact despite the pillow you rested on, mind swirling as you tried to regain your senses.

Aizawa sighed, eyes shut tight as he calmed himself.

“No more tantrums, sweetheart,” he cooed at her with a smile, calm once again, “if you keep acting up like this, I’ll have to take drastic steps to make sure you behave. Understand?”

Your Father had never been a violent man, all you had were happy memories of him but in this moment, seeing that twisted smile, your body was overcome with terror at just what he would do to you if you tried anything else.

“Yes.” Your reply was a whisper, barely audible.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed you again, mouth eagerly taking yours. You were as still as a rock at the touch.

His mouth drifted downwards, light kisses against your neck as he traveled.

Hiccups mixed into your sobs as they started again, realizing what he was doing – where he was going.

His journey took him exactly where you predicted, his scruffy chin rubbing against the soft flesh of your breast. You squirmed involuntarily at the feel of his breath on your nipple but remained in place from his hand still pressing into your shoulder.

You gave a whimper as he took the soft peak into his mouth; suck at it delicately, rolling his tongue around it. His free hand took perch on the other breast, kneading it and rolling the unattended nipple between his fingers.

A struggled gasp came from you at the stimulation. He hummed happily at the sound, blowing lightly and causing the point to tighten and become erect. He shifted his focus, taking the first breast in his hand after removing it from your shoulder and drawing the previously neglected one into his mouth to taste as well.

He remained like that for a short time, making sure to keep his attention balanced between the two; suckling and massaging. He ignored the soft sobs you emitted, the pleas and refusals, and instead enjoyed the shivers that he caused your body to have.

You didn’t want to feel the things he was doing, the strange ache at your core that Aizawa’s actions were building inside you. You hated it, you wanted to scream but didn’t, fearful of what he may do if you did.

He moaned, rubbing his cheek again one breast as he finally relented and took a deep breath, drawing in your scent. “See, Baby? See how good Daddy can make you feel? I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, because of how much I love you.”

“Y-yes, D-dad, I understand. Ar-are we done?” You sniffed, lips quivering as you spoke.

He gave a chuckle at that, “Of course not. I’m just getting started, sweetie. I’m so excited,” he started his soft pecks on your flesh again, starting between your breasts and trailing downwards along your stomach, “I’ve wanted to taste you for so, so long and now I get to.” He slid from his seat atop you, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear.

Legs suddenly free, you felt a new burst of energy and started kicking at him. It was a futile effort, he grabbed your thrashing limbs easily, holding them tightly in his strong grip and pressing them down so they laid flat.

You whimpered at the tight grip as he pressed into you.

“Now, now,” he said, a hint of anger in his voice as he stared you down, “I know you're nervous – I am too – but don’t be a brat or I may hurt you by mistake. You don’t want me to hurt you, do you? All I want is to make you feel good, make you realize Daddy is the only one you need in your life.”

The hand drifted away from your legs, hovering to see if you would act out again. You remained still, trembling as you looked away and buried your face into the curve of your arm, not wanting to see what else he planned to do.

He wouldn’t even let you have that small relief, pulling you back to face him, “Such a shy thing, but I want to see your face so don’t look away again.” No request of confirmation this time, just the threat of what would happen if you disobeyed him anymore.

Returning to the panties, he slid them off slowly, twisting them down your legs despite you pinning them together tightly in a last play of resistance. You gagged as you watched him bring the cloth to his nose, taking a long inhale and let out a staggered sigh. He stuffed the undies into his pocket carefully when he finished. You didn’t want to know why.

He didn’t seem to mind the way you pressed your legs together, simply pushing his hands between your knees and easily parting them with disciplined strength. His happy look faded as his eyes fell between your legs.

“Who?” He growled, seeing the hairless plain of your pussy.

“W-what?”

“Who the fuck are you making yourself so neat and clean for?” His voice was a controlled shout, but his eyes were full of rage that made you shrink.

“N-no one, I- I- I just like it like that-”

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” He snapped, knowing your tells all too well, “Is it one of those boys from before? Have you let someone else see you? Touch you?”

The venom in the words sent renewed terror through you. What would he do if he thought you had been with someone else?

“No! No!” You screamed, “He hasn’t-”

“So, there is a boy.”

You had slipped up, said more than you meant to. “Y-yes,” you hiccupped, “b-but w-we haven’t… h-he hasn’t seen…”

He relaxed; knowing you were telling the truth as you trembled beneath him. His hand returned to your face, wiping away the tears and snot that dribbled down it, “Good. That’s good.” He praised, petting you softly before returning his focus to lower parts.

Aizawa tilted his head as his eyes studied you, a smirk slipping back to his face, “I like this, now that I know it’s something only I get to see.” A finger ran along the clean scape, dancing along the skin back and forth between your thighs, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

He moved, pulling your legs apart further and positioning himself between them, resting one over his shoulder. He easily slipped a finger between your folds with one hand while the other gripped your leg tightly in place over him, bracing you as you wiggled from the touch of him in your most intimate place.

“So pretty,” he purred, spreading your lips apart so he could see the silkiness inside. He sighed at the pure, untainted look of you, “Look at how eager you are to be played with.” His tongue ran up and along the part, causing you to cry out.

“No, no, please, no – Dad, please – don’t do this. Please.”

The words fell on deaf ears as he continued, savoring the taste of you as he explored further with his tongue, finding the cute nub under its hood at the top of your slit. It throbbed, reacting to the stimulation he had been forcing on your body. He twirled around it, watching you with dark eyes as you squirmed at the sensation.

He drew the nub into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, causing a loud moan to escape you as he worked it. He pulled back his head and released it, a pop emitting as he did so, “That’s right Baby, just relax into it.”

Before you could reply, denying the enjoyment and that the noise had just involuntarily come from you, he returned to the mound and began nursing at it, making your words cut before they even began as you whimpered and whined, fidgeting in his hold as he worked.

It became more difficult for you to hold back the noises as he intensified his focus, a finger slipping into you, massaging your insides; curling and twisting to find the points that caused the most response out of you. A slippery, squishy sound filling the darkroom as he sucked at and slipped in and out of you, mixed with your struggled moans, hiccups, and sobs.

As you became wetter, he slid another finger inside – relishing the gasp that came from you as he did so. He spread the two inside you wide, pushing against your velvet walls and stretching you. Working you as he twisted them, loosening the tight space in preparation. As he massaged you, he felt the walls constrict around his fingers, pressing them closed as you tightened with the orgasm.

He sucked at you eagerly as you came, tongue gliding along your opening and lapping up the juices while steadying you as your back arched and toes curled with the intense phenomenon.

Finally relenting, he let your leg fall to his side; straightening himself so he could take in the full view of you as you quivered, your hands locked in a death grip around the pole of the headboard that you were tied to, eyes glossy and wide as you tried to regain your senses.

“See? That’s how much Daddy cares for you. No immature boy would be so meticulous with you, making sure you were nice and ready for him before they rutted into you like some wild animal. No, a real man – one who loves you, like me - takes his time. Aren’t you glad that you don’t have to worry about anything, knowing Daddy will take care of his little girl?”

You gave no reply, just staring at him as you tried to understand why this was happening, your tears and sobs having stopped as your mind realized they were useless.

“Let’s clean you up,” he fussed, taking his shirt and sliding it off. First, he wiped his own face, then ran the fabric over your cheeks, clearing away the dry tears and mucus before finally wiping it gently over your inner thighs. “Look at you… so beautiful.” He stared at you longingly, taking in your disheveled form.

He brushed away the hair that had fallen over your face before taking your chin in his hand and leaning down for a kiss. It wasn’t a simple one this time either; his lips parted, pulling yours apart with them. His tongue slithered in, finding yours and twisting around it, sucking at it.

You tried not to think about the fact you could taste yourself.

“Let’s see…” Aizawa hummed, eyes studying you carefully after he withdrew.

You let your head fall back into the pillow, eyes to the ceiling as he contemplated. Hoping he was finally done.

“Ah, yes.” He lifted your hips, taking another pillow from elsewhere on the bed and sliding under you.

“W-what are you doing?” You asked, confused by the action.

He nodded, understanding the confusion, “A logical question. You see, it's important to elevate the hips, that way it's easier to move. Makes everything feel better.”

“F-feel better? What- Aren’t you done?”

“Of course not,” he purred, rubbing your thigh up and down, “I told you, sweetie, I’m not going to let anyone else have you. Your first time is supposed to be special, with someone you love and who loves you. Some hormonal boy would never be good enough for you.” He worked at his waist, unbuttoning it and sliding the zipper down as he spoke.

Your eyes went wide, and you started scooting away from him, “No, no, no – you can’t – this is-”

He held you in place, your legs spread open around his, “Now, none of that. I’ve told you plenty of times already. If you had just listened to me and stayed away from those animals… well, we’re past that now.”

He tugged the pants down, boxers with them, and took his dick in hand; stroking it as his eyes traveled along your exposed body, “I’ve dreamed of this for so long, held myself back – but you had to act up, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, looking away from him, not wanting to see him stroke himself or the raging hard-on he had.

“Don’t look away, remember?” He growled.

Your eyes snapped back to him, locking to his to both fulfill the command and do your best to avoid the rest of him.

“Good girl.”

“Please, Dad, please. I’m your daughter, remember? You-”

“You’re right,” he nodded in agreement. You started to smile, thinking you had gotten through, then he continued, “You’re my little girl. That means no one else gets to touch you, but me.” He growled, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked pussy.

You tried pleading more, screaming and begging him to stop, but those went silent with a whimper as he pressed inside you. At first, just the head entered, slow and steady, but the moment you enveloped him he lost the control he had and thrust hard, shoving every inch of him as deep as he could.

A slow exhale slipped between his parted lips as he felt you encompass him. “Finally…” he whispered, eyelids fluttering as he rested inside you. He gave a blissful smile, “See, baby? See how well you take me? It’s like you were made for me. It feels amazing, doesn’t it?” He seemed not to notice or care that you were shaking, your nails digging into the wood of the headboard as your body quivered at the sudden invasion.

He started rocking gently, hips slow as he moved. As he did, he continued to ramble; praising you and calling you his little girl, saying how good you felt. How he shouldn’t have waited so long for something you both wanted.

The gentle words turned to growls and harsh words as he started moving faster, the bed started to shake as he did. He went on and on about how you belonged to him and how dare some children think they could take you from him. That you just had to provoke him, make him act out, and have to punish you like this.

“Move your hips, sweetheart, it will make it feel even better.” He commanded, taking your hips in hand rocking him in time with his thrusts.

At first, you hated it, knowing he was right about how it did feel better. How with each plunge into you he did, the better you felt. Yet, as it continued, you fell into the feeling, letting it envelop you and help you slip away from the reality of what was happening.

He noticed. He noticed your muscles relaxed, your moans get louder as you took over from his guidance and rocked with him on your own.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” He growled in ecstasy, his arms wrapping around your body as he buried his face into your chest. He started pressing deeper, harder. Jack-rabbiting into you over and over, the pressure causing you to bounce against the mattress and press back into him, forcing cries and moans from you as you were overcome with the reactions he caused.

“That’s right, come for Daddy,” he purred, feeling you clench his cock tighter as you reached another peak. He slipped a hand down between your legs, his fingers rolling your clit to edge you closer.

You screamed as the wave rushed through you, the headboard rattling in your grip as you shook.

Aizawa didn’t slow despite this, pushing through the tightness of you and pounding into you further. Crying your name, praising you, and fawning over how amazing you felt.

You weren’t sure how long it kept going; time lost as he rocked in and out of you, playing with you and pushing you to orgasm again and again. Soon enough all that came from you whimpering moans as he continued, bringing you to another edge.

“Yes, yes, that’s my girl, come with me,” he moaned from his current position over you, your legs held around his waist as he sat on his legs and pumped into you.

He was finally going to finish, you realized. Thankful that it would soon end but then you considered what that meant.

“W-wait,” you stuttered, trying to remember how to speak, “don’t-” your words cut as he arched his back, rutting deeply into you and knocking the wind from your lungs.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull out. It’s our first time, I’m not wasting a single moment.” He stated, seeming to understand your intent but misinterpreting, as always, into what he wanted.

“No, no. Please, Daddy-” you begged as you felt your climax roll through you.

Aizawa reached his peak too, your calling out to him like that pushing him over his edge while you squeezed around him. He grunted, pressing as deeply inside of you as he could as he filled you. He rocked gently, forcing out what was left from the initial surge. Then he was still, his head hanging as it swayed back and forth. He set your legs down gently on the bed, releasing his hold on them.

Despite his warnings, you buried your face back into your arm, trying not to think about what he had just done - not wanting to be lucid enough yet to believe everything that was happening. You whimpered as he withdrew and tried pressing your legs shut in response, but he stopped you, holding them open.

Aizawa smiled, watching as your pussy pulsed and the thick, white liquid dribbled out of the tight little hole he had just been inside. Reaching into the pocket of his pants as they rested around his knees and he pulled out his phone, blinking at the bright light as it turned on before pressing the camera app and aiming at the sight before him.

“Look, see how amazing you made me feel?” He asked, shifting to lay beside her and showing her the photo he had taken.

You didn’t want to look but knew he would force you if you didn’t. You had thought your tears all dried up, but seeing the photo, you started crying again.

“Shhh. Shhh, it’s okay. I know, I know,” he cooed, setting the device down and petting your hair gently.

As he comforted you, he untied the binding of your wrists and let them fall. You didn’t try moving despite the freedom and just remained limp as he drew you into a loving embrace. “I know, the first time is overwhelming. So many new sensations, but Daddy made sure you were ready and took as much time as I could. That’s how much I love you, I wanted your first to feel amazing. The next time will feel even better as your body learns to work with me.” He rubbed a cheek against your hair as he spoke.

You trembled at the words he had spoken, the implications. You wanted to run, but you had nothing left so you just laid there in his embrace, dead-eyed as he continued whispering sweet nothings to you.

——Tag List ——

(Please check this post if you would like to be included!)

@underratedmage @tomurasprincess @elektraeriseros @lilleeboi @smolladyy

#aizawa #yandere aizawa #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #mha #bnha #dark content #tw:incest #somno #abuse of trust #yandere #please advise me if i miss an important tag or tw #shorkbrian #sin #stepfather #stepdaughter #dont forget a reblog brings a smile to a face

621 notes · View notes

gentrychild · 3 years ago

Note

The ball hitted lightly Dabi's back again.

"Come on, Touya, try to play with me".

Shouto said in a sad tone with a tiny hint of despair on it, because his new baby brother have decided that he did not want to play with his well prepared to play all day brother, and proceded to sit in the ground with his arms crossed.

He would not say it aloud, but Touya looked adorable throwing a temper tantrum, he actually played the act of grumpy toddler very well, but he had been looking forward to experience what was like to be a big brother, and more importantly, passing sometime with his sibling. So this will not do.

So, grabbing the ball, Shouto passed it for one hand to the other, wondering how he can convince his baby brother to play with him.

"If you keep sitting in the ground, all of your clothes are going to get dirty".

Touya pretended he didn't hear him, and continue to pout looking towards the ground.

"Fuyumi is going to get mad at you, at fact, she may make Natsuo bathe you for being too immature for taking care of your own clothes".

Touya turned around screaming: "FUCK YOU", enlighting his shirt with a small fire.

That worried Shouto a little bit, he ran towards his brother and put the fire out with his own hands, not only Touya's age have rewound, his fire also did it, so he was not in risk of getting burns but that did not mean his very toddlerish brother could not regain his scars.

"GET OFF ME!! Don't touch me, you fucker!!"

"Don't set yourself in fire, it's dangerous, you only regained your health and the last thing I want is for you ending up in a burn treatment".

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!! I am not a weakling!! Don't you dare to think that!! Nobody knows better about my body than me, just go away or I turn you into ashes!!!".

"I never said I considered you a weakling, I am your big brother now, it is natural I worry about you, you have almost no control over your flames".

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!!"

Touya freed himself of his grab and ran away of the house, Shouto followed him, he knew baby Touya will not get far, but he was not supposed to left his sight either.

He barely ran 20 steps before tripping and going face first towards the ground.

Shouto felt a shiver going all the way down his spine.

"Touya! TOUYA! Are you okay?"

He said while picking him up from his arm.

Touya did not say anything, but the tears in his eyes were enough prove to show Shouto that that have a rough falling for the poor child.

Sighing, Shouto found himself into a dilemma, what was he supposed to do?

He spied a little girl eating a pink ice cream while walking in front of his house.

That could work.

"Ey! What if I treat you an ice cream? That sounds nice, right?"

Touya did not answer, he just sniffed and looked at Shouto with a face that screamed: 'it's your fault that I fell'.

That was NOT his fault.

He decided he did not need an answer.

He picked up Touya and sitted him in his shoulders, while holding his little legs, he started running towards the entrance of his house.

"What the-?! HOW DARE YOU?! I'LL BURN YOU! YOU HEAR ME!! I'LL BURN YOU!!!".

Shouto just kept running, deciding this piggy ride was the best option to transport Touya around.

He, of course, could have used the fantastic baby carrier that he have bought, but the spoiled brat that was his brother, did not tolerate to be on it yesterday more than 5 minutes.

At least Natsuo had token a few excellent pictures.

Not that Touya needed to know that.

He tried to find an ice cream shop or car nearby, but he spied nothing like that.

So he kept running.

Before they knew, they arrived in the park, it was full of kids and their families, and couple of grannies feeding the birds, none of them paying attention to them, they looked like the typical little-big brother that came to the park for playtime.

That made Shouto feel a tiny bit of joy in his heart, maybe things were actually going for the best.

"PUT ME DOWN ALREADY!"

That gave him an idea.

Shouto kept walking until they got to the swings, there were a few that were made for toddlers were the swing was made so the kid did not fall.

Those were mostly reserved for the babies, but luckily Touya was never really big.

He fitted perfectly in.

"SHOUTO! I swear to God, if you don't let me out of this damn thing, you are going to regret it forever"

"You want to fly? Of course baby brother"

Shouto pushed Touya, he did not used all his arm strength for it, since that would have been dangerous, but he managed to push him far enough"

"You bastard- *swings away*, I swear I wi- *swings away*, you fucking fa- *swings away*, and beg for m- *swings away*".

"You are going to end up pucking if you continue talking, just enjoy it"

Though Touya was not very happy, Shouto was actually pretty content with the situation!

He always wanted to play with Touya as a kid, and even if the circunstances were... not perfect for the toddler, this was all Shouto could have ever asked.

And the best part, the day was only starting! His baby brother and him still had a lot of time to play together!.

1. I am delighted that Shouto is leaving his best life as a big brother. 2. Just a pyromaniac toddler. Nothing to see. 3. A kingdom for those pictures of Touya in a baby carrier!

#rewound dabi au #writer-chan

115 notes · View notes

miraculouswolf99 · 4 years ago

Text

Akumatized: Valid Or Not

This is basically a list of every akumatized that has appeared so far. There will be four types of categories that they will be put into that say whether or not their reason for being akumatized was valid or not.

Categories:

1. Valid- The reason they were akumatized is completely understandable and could happen to anyone.

2. Semi-Valid- It is still understandable, but for things that are relatively normal. Like losing a contest, being rejected by a crush, or failing a test.

3. You Brought This On Yourself- Akumatized over something that was basically their fault to begin with and is not valid at all.

4. What The Hell- An akumaization that makes no sense at all and most likely not really much of a reason to be akumatized in the first place.

Season One:

Nino Lahiffe- Bubbler: Valid. Gabriel is a jerk that would not let his son's best friend throw him a birthday party.

Xavier Ramier- Mr. Pigeon: Semi-Valid. Was just trying to feed the pigeons, but had been aware that there was a rule/law against it.

Aurore Beauréal- Stormy Weather: Semi-Valid. Lost a contest, but almost had it rubbed in her face when she was told that she lost by a lot.

Alix Kubdel- Timebreaker: Valid. Had her family heirloom destroyed not even an hour after she got it because other people did not put a pocket watch in their pocket when she asked them to hold it during her race.

Théo Barbot- Copycat: Semi-Valid. Believed that the girl he had a crush on was dating someone else, but was treating the situation more that she was an object that he could take if he wanted to.

Jalil Kubdel- Pharaoh: Valid. While it is never a good idea to try and resurrect the dead, his father rejected his theory about the spell even when they were in a city of magical heroes and villains.

Alya Césaire- Lady Wifi: Semi-Valid. Was wrongly suspended because Chloe was being a brat. She may have been taking pictures of Chloe's locker, but the door was open and Chloe had accused her of breaking into it.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg- The Evillustrator: Valid. Was embarrassed by having his crush revealed by a bully and humiliated when the drawings of his crush were revealed to everyone.

Roger Raincomprix- Rogercop: Semi-Valid. Was wrongfully fired for not arresting a girl that the mayor's daughter accused of theft even without proof, but had not done any sort of investigation at all about the missing bracelet.

Lê Chiến Kim- Dark Cupid: Valid. May have been rejected by his crush but had his heart broken on Valentine's day and humiliated by the girl he had a crush on.

Mylène Haprèle- Horrificator: Semi-Valid. We all get scared and she was trying to be brave for the film, but she was also the one that purposely signed up to be the lead in a horror movie.

Armand D'Argencourt- Darkblade: Semi-Valid. Lost the mayoral election, but was also running because he thought that he should reclaim his family's lost seat of power from back in medieval times. It's been hundreds of years, man. Get over it.

Fred Haprèle- Mime: Valid. Was wrongfully fired from his job because a co-worker had sabotaged him to gain the lost job for himself.

Jean Duparc- Magician of Misfortune: What The Hell. We were never even given a reason for why he was akumatized in the first place.

Rose Lavillant- Princess Fragrance: Valid. Simply wanted to give a letter to a prince to thank him for all the charity work he does, but the letter was destroyed by a bully.

Ivan Bruel- Stoneheart: Valid. Believed that his crush rejected him while also being bullied/teased over the crush in the first place. Was also bullied over being akumatized in the first place and called a monster.

Otis Césaire- Animan: What The Hell. So, he was akumatized because a teenage boy thought that he could out-run a panther. Even for a zookeeper, is that really something to be upset about?

Simón Grimault- Simon Says: Valid. May have lost a contest, but was basically cheated out of a win because Gabriel did not even really seem like he was going to participate in the first place and he was not even given the chance to try his act.

Vincent Aza- Pixelator: You Brought This On Yourself. A creepy stalker that wants a picture of his favorite rock star and will try anything to get it. "Yicks" is all I have to say.

Jagged Stone- Guitar Villain: Valid. Was told that he had to change his look and music to the complete opposite of his own just because his manager liked a teenage pop star more than him.

Wang Cheng- Kung Food: Valid. He lost a contest, but that was only because Chloe was a brat that sabotaged him.

Max Kanté- Gamer: Semi-Valid. He lost a chance to be in a video game contest but was more upset over losing his chance because he lost to a girl.

Juleka Couffaine- Reflekta: Valid. She was trying to break her "photo curse" but lost her chance because Chloe had her locked in the bathroom so she could stand next to her crush/obsession.

Manon Chamack- Puppeteer: Valid. She is a little girl that was simply trying to win a game and did not really see why having a doll that was given to her was wrong.

Sabrina Raincomprix- Vanisher: Valid. Had a fight with her best friend and then said best friend also pretended that she was invisible because she was a brat.

Chloé Bourgeois- Antibug: You Brought This On Yourself. She was a brat that was called out for lying about being the reason for an akumaization by the hero that she admired.

Lila Rossi- Volpina: You Brought This On Yourself. She was called out for lying about being best friends with a superhero and trying to claim that she was also a hero with a fake miraculous. Karma will always come back to bite you, Liar Rossi.

Season 2:

Santa Claus- Santa Claws: Valid. Was trying to be a good samaritan, but was instead accused of kidnapping by a superhero.

Gabriel Agreste- Collector: You Brought This On Yourself. Gabriel is Hawkmoth and he akumatized himself. Need I say more.

Nadja Chamack- Prime Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. Her job may have been on the line, but she was willing to leave out information and use a picture taken out of context as her "proof" that the heroes were a couple.

Jean- Despair Bear: You Brought This On Yourself. Was trying to use humiliation to try and make a spoiled brat change her ways and was doing it in front of her class.

Kagami Tsurugi- Riposte: Valid. Thought that a single loss against a formidable opponent meant that she had lost her honor because of an over strict mother.

Gina Dupain- Befana: Semi-Valid. Had a hard time realizing that her grandaughter was growing up, but all grandparents feel that way.

Markov- Robostus: Valid. Even as a robot, he still had feelings, but was told he was just a toy and locked away like an object.

Mr. Damocles- Dark Owl: You Brought This On Yourself. If you are a high school principal with no reason or skill to become a hero, don't try and be one while exhausting the real heroes in the process because they keep having to save you.

August- Gigantitan: Valid. He's a literal baby.

André- Glaciator: Semi-Valid. Was told that the special "soulmate" ice cream that he believed in was not magical, but it was still only one girl that did not want that ice cream.

Ella and Etta Césaire- Sapotis: You Brought This On Yourself. They may be young girls, but they had repeatedly been told to go to bed and were rightfully punished for their bad behavior.

Adrien's bodyguard/The Gorilla- Gorizilla: Valid. He was just trying to do his job and was having an extra stressful day with his charge running off and disappearing with almost half of Paris looking for him.

Anarka Couffaine- Captain Hardrock: Valid. Roger was a jerk to her, telling her that her loud music could not be played during the festival instead of simply telling her to turn it down a little.

Clara Nightingale- Frightningale: Valid. Was told that she could not perform or shoot her music video in France anymore because Chloe was being a brat over not being the star in the music video.

Ondine- Syren: Semi-Valid. She believed that she was rejected by her crush, but there had actually not been any real rejected on Kim's part.

Caline Bustier- Zombizou: Semi-Valid. While she took the akuma to protect her student, the akuma was only there because she made her student believe that she was in trouble for being a victim of bullying

Philippe- Frozer: Valid. He is close to losing his business because of the lack of customers.

Audrey Bourgeois- Style Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. She is a grown woman throwing a temper tantrum because she had to sit in the second row of a fashion show.

Penny Rolling- Troublemaker: Valid. Give the woman a bloody break. She deserves it for putting up with you crazy people and a freaking crocodile every day.

Queen Bee/Chloe Bourgeois-Queen Wasp: You Brought This On Yourself. While she had been trying to impress the mother she thought would never love her, she still stole a miraculous, almost caused a train to crash, and used her powers selfishly.

Marc Anciel-Reverser: Valid. He had his notebook destroyed and confidence ruined after trying to put himself out there for the first time because of a big misunderstanding between himself, Nathaniel, and Marinette.

Nora Césaire- Anansi: Semi-Valid. She was trying to protect her sister, but was being super overprotective and did not have faith in actual superheroes.

André Bourgeois- Malediktator: Valid. He was trying to keep his family happy and together but was faced against a brat of a daughter and a controlling wife where neither respected him.

Boy- Sandboy: Semi-Valid. He was a little boy that had a frightening nightmare, but nightmares are pretty common and normal in life.

Lila Rossi- Volpina: You Brought This On Yourself. She wanted to be akumatized and gladly welcomed the chance to be a villain again.

Nathalie Sancoeur- Catalyst: You Brough This On Yourself. She was willingly akumatized. Nothing more needs to be said.

Rena Rouge/Alya Cesair- Rena Rage: Valid. Took a negative emotions arrow for her boyfriend and had all her love put in reverse and turned into rage.

Carapace/Nino Lahiffe- Shell Shock: Valid. Just saw his superhero girlfriend be akumatized and was both losing hope and was hit by a negative emotions arrow.

Heroes' Day Villains: Valid. They all believed that one of their town heroes had been killed by the akumatized form of their other main hero. They had lost hope.

Season 3:

Lila Rossi- Chameleon: You Brought This On Yourself. She literally grabbed the akuma out of the air purposely got akumatized to try and ruin Adrien's friendships and get another shot at defeating Ladybug.

Thomas Astruc- Animaestro: What The Hell. So, he was akumatized because no one recognized him as a director of an animation movie. I did not really understand it. He was a director of an animation movie. Why would anyone recognize him if they had not seen the movie credits and know who the director was in the first place?

Rolland Dupain- Bakerix: What The Hell. I'm still confused over him. Was he akumatized because Marinette lied about who she was or was it because he was upset over modern baking techniques outshining his own? I did not get it.

Marianne Lenoir- Backwarder: Valid. She had been waiting a long time for the person that she loved, only to believe that he no longer cared for her.

Max Kanté- Gamer 2.0: Semi-Valid. He could not find a person to test out the game that he had made and was told no by a lot of people. A person can only take rejection for so long.

Tom Dupain- Weredad: Valid. He wanted to protect his daughter from heartbreak and was a victim of a lie gone way out of hand.

Luka Couffaine- Silencer: Valid. The song, look, and music that he and his friends created was stolen and his friend had been threatened when they tried to get their music back.

Kagami Tsurugi- Oni-Сhan: Valid. She might have been jealous, but that was only because Liar Rossi lied her way into her friend's home, kissed him without his permission, and claimed that the two were a couple even when he was obviously uncomfortable with her kissing him.

Sabrina Raincomprix- Miraculer: Semi-Valid. She was yelled at by her friend even though she was simply trying to help her after she fought off being akumatized.

Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe- Oblivio: What The Hell. They were akumatized over being caught playing a silly video game. That is a very stupid reason.

Wayhem- Party Crasher: Valid. He thought that his friend lied to him about not being able to have friends over and was then rejected at the door of his friend's house when he thought that there was a party there he could attend.

Chris Lahiffe- Christmaster: Semi-Valid. He was upset over not being able to get his presents early, but what kid wouldn't be upset over that.

Manon Chamack- Puppeteer: Semi-Valid. Wanted to play with the big kids and felt ignored by them all day. But that is pretty common for little kids to feel, especially when older siblings and their friends are involved.

Aurore Beauréal- Stormy Weather: Valid. Not only were her grades slipping, but she was also ridiculed by a bully, bullied by her saying 'once a villain always a villain.'

Ms. Mendeleiev- Kwamibuster: Semi-Valid. She was humiliated on live television when trying to prove herself as a great scientist, but she had not even bothered to look at the footage she had before going on the show.

Dormant Sentimonster- Feast: What The Hell. An akumatized sentimonster. I have officially seen it all now.

Juleka Couffaine- Reflekta/Reflectdoll: Valid. She was trying to start her dream of being a model but was basically chased out because Alya was pushing her matchmaking over her friend's dream.

Tomoe Tsurugi- Ikari Gozen: Semi-Valid. Her daughter had disobeyed her to play a game that she did not think was worth the time, but she was still an overly strict mother that was trying to control her daughter's every move.

Vivica- Desperada: Valid. She was fired for a completely ridiculous reason and her boss was quick to try and find a replacement for her.

Claudie Kanté- Startrain: Valid. She was a nervous wreck over if she was close to achieving her dream of being an astronaut while also being a worried mother about having to leave her son if she did get accepted into training.

Xavier Ramier- Mr. Pigeon: You Brought This On Yourself/What The Hell. This guy had been akumatized about 24 times. Enough said.

Future Chris Lahiffe- Timetagger: What The Hell. We are never even given a reason why he was akumatized in the first place.

Cat Noir- Cat Blanc: Valid. He had just found out that his father is the supervillain that has been terrorizing Paris for years and that the mother that disappeared has been under his house the entire time in a coma.

Alya Césaire/Rose Lavillant/Juleka Couffaine- Lady Wifi/Princess Fragrance/Reflekta: Valid. They believed that their friend had sent a horrible message to them in return for their heartfelt messages about them supporting him in his time of pain.

Nathalie Sancoeur- Catalyst: You Brought This On Yourself. She was willingly akumatized again, nothing more and nothing less.

André & Audrey Bourgeois- Heart Hunter: Semi-Valid. They had been fighting and not as in-love as they probably had been once upon a time, but they had never thought about a marriage counselor before.

Queen Bee/Chloe Bourgeois- Miracle Queen: You Brought This On Yourself. Even after being told that she will not get the bee miraculous back, she still tries getting it from Ladybug multiple times. And then she willingly works with Hawkmoth.

#gabriel salt #lila salt #chloe salt #ml salt #akuma list #akumatization

158 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol. 12: Mukami Ruki [Another Story]

Original title: アナザーストーリー

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [Deluxe Edition]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: I feel very much conflicted about this CD still. While I do kind of like how they took a different approach with the Another Story track and the way it ends, I still think Ruki went way too far in the main CD. It was interesting to see everything from his perspective too, although this means there’s a bunch of inner monologues in this and it’s Ruki so they’re quite long. I try to break up the paragraphs by describing what happens based on background sounds and such but this one just has a bunch of rambling lol.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

“Lately, she has been formidable. Even though she was always the type of girl to make the most foolish mistakes, to the point where one would wonder if she did it on purpose. She has not been getting scolded by me either. That does not bother me. Or at least, it shouldn’t bother me. So why do I feel so...restless?”

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki walks up to you in the inner courtyard.

( So that’s where she’s been...Look at her just casually watering the plants... No wonder she did not show up in the library. I assume she has completely forgotten about our meeting. )

“So this is where you’ve been.”

You flinch.

( Huh? What’s wrong? Why would she be so surprised just because I called out for her? Also...Under normal circumstances, I’d assume she would panic and spray water all over me with that hose she just so conveniently happens to be holding. Yet, she made the wise decision and turned off the water. )

“Oh well. I shall praise you for ceasing your actions as soon as you saw your Master approach. However, there should be something you have forgotten.”

You bring up the promise.

“Oh? So you do remember. Then you should have just hurried to the library.”

( Now this is new. I didn’t think a scatterbrain such as herself would have remembered our plan to meet up. No, if she remembered, she should have come to me straight away. Did she only just now remember? Even so, her behavior is off. Or am I simply overthinking things? )

*TIMESKIP*

( Once it starts boiling, the dressing will be complete. Which leaves just plating the salad. )

You enter the kitchen.

“...Hm? You’re already here? You almost resemble a dog or a cat rather than livestock, lured in by the scent like that. Let me tell you just in case, it is not feeding time just yet. Wait until I’m done preparing it.“

You nod and leave.

( Oh? She left without offering to help? I’m glad to see her so obedient, but then what did she come for in the first place? Usually she would insist on helping even if it’s more of a bother and either cut her finger or break one of the plates. Those are the kind of things she does. )

He turns off the stove.

“What is this feeling as if something is...off? Something about the way she’s been acting trips me up. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her make a blunder even once as of late. That isn’t something which should bother me, but I just can’t seem to get rid of this unsettling feeling in my chest. What has gotten into her...?”

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki enters the room

“We finally made it back. That was quite the disaster. ...Honestly, why do I have to wear the clothes she picked out for me? Well, I suppose she did not make a bad choice for once. I’ll add it to my collection of casual wear. That being said...Nothing happened today either.”

He takes a seat on the bed.

“How many days has it been since she stopped making mistakes? She won’t even show dangerous behavior. What kind of miracle is this? No, I do not mind that. I shouldn’t mind it. It basically means a huge pressure has been lifted off my shoulders. Then why do I feel so conflicted? Her suspicious behavior piques my interest, but even beyond that...”

( I felt as if something was lacking. Oh, I get it now. It all makes sense now. I have not gotten to taste her blood as of late, so I must feel unsatisfied. I am not the type of guy who easily becomes thirsty for blood, nor would I indulge in her without a good reason. However, with less opportunities to punish her, our time together automatically decreased as well. To be upset because of that, I must seem like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because his mother does not pay enough attention to him. It is obvious since when I have become so obsessed with her

...Since the moment I decided to betray the whole word and chose her, I must have already been enraptured by her. Harshly sucking her blood while restraining her movements was something which fulfilled my desire for dominance. It most definitely made me feel good. However, somewhere deep inside, I felt relieved when she accepted me without fighting back against it. At some point, I even began to cherish those moments where I would pierce my fangs through her skin. I must be quite the easy man as well. I always thought I was in charge, but I may have actually been the one wrapped around her little finger instead. (1) I cannot show myself to that man like this. No, I assume he is already well aware. )

Ruki suddeny raises his head.

“Hm...? That man? Speaking of which, that hourglass I gave her...I considered the possibility but could it be...? Even if she were to make some sort of mistake, if she rewinds time, she could do the same scenario over again. If she makes it so only she remembers, it would be easy to keep it hidden from me. I wanted to believe I was simply overthinking things, but now that I think about it with a clear mind, it really is suspicious...I’m sure that even someone as slow as herself would eventually get things right after two of three tries. If she has been using that hourglass to cover up her own mess-ups, then I have no other choice but to punish her for such a foolish act.”

( It became clear to me that I would have to set up a trap to find out the truth. ーー And if her actions were to be exposed, I would make sure to compensate for the lack of disciplining these past few days. I can already imagine her crying out. I probably should not feel proud for having such thoughts. However, this is not a bad situation. It may be somewhat shameless, but it seems like I am enjoying it quite a bit. To get to use her own blunders as an excuse to suck her blood, or knowing that no matter what I do, she will not get away from me. )

“I suppose I shall enjoy our time together for the first time in a while...Which may just turn out to be a hellish period for her.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Ding・dongー Ding・dong*

Ruki pulls back after sucking your blood.

“...Hah. Your blood tastes even sweeter than usual. By sucking it repeatedly, the flavor ripens, becoming richer, almost like wine. Or in other words, like a stew you kept on the stove for too long. If it simmers any longer, it might just burn. I suppose we could put it to the test. After all, no matter what happens to you, all we have to do is turn back time.”

You keep quiet.

“You can hear me, right? Why not give some sort of reaction? I would not mind seeing you miserably struggle in vain.”

You still fail to give a response.

“Guess she really did lose consciousness. Judging by the looks of it, I doubt she will wake up even if I were to rewind time. I guess you could consider us even now. Perhaps I went a little too easy on her, but I shall forgive her now.”

He takes a step back.

“Such an innocent sleeping face. Almost as if the obscene expressions you showed me earlier were nothing but a lie. Your sheer white complexion and screams were not bad. As well as how you would cling onto my clothes, remaining by my side despite your obvious fear.”

*Thud*

“...Ah!”

*Cling*

“The hourglass...”

Ruki picks up the Hourglass.

“That man might have been testing me after all...Me? Or rather, us? ...Now that I think about it twice, the ability to manipulate time is something which should only ever be given to God. We could have possibly overthrown all logic in this world if we so wished. Yet, we used it to cover up for trivial mistakes. Then this is basically just some child’s toy. However...I am sure that was for the best.”

He turns his head to look at you.

“You might be more of a genius than I thought. However, how many times did you rewind? The magic has almost run dry. The few times I rewinded are basically irrelevant. I wonder just how many times you repeated your own ridiculous mistakes? Oh well, I shall drag that out of her later. I doubt she will easily confess though. ーー No, I suppose there is no point in asking her. I can simply confirm it with my very own eyes.”

*Cling*

“With this amount, we can still turn back time just once. That’s plenty.”

*Thud*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

“Hm…”

You approach Ruki.

“Oh? It’s you. No, it’s nothing serious. I was simply lost in thought.”

You take notice of the hourglass in his hand.

“You seem curious. Are you that interested in this thing? Blood red sand…Its decorations are beautiful as well. It would make for the perfect interior piece.”

You ask if there is a catch.

“No, it’s jsut a regular old hourglass. There is nothing special about it.”

*Thud*

“More importantly, you mentioned you wanted to look for resources for your assignment, right? Meet me at the library during tomorrow’s break time. I shall help you.”

You seem surprised.

“Yes. As your Master, it is my duty to look after you. However, do not be late, okay?”

You nod.

( Well then...I wonder what the next few days will have in store for me? How many mistakes will you make, and how many times will you get punished by me? ...I am looking forward to it. )

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally he says that he always intended to be the one ‘holding the reins’, but instead he was actually tied up/restrained this whole time.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #diabolik lovers more more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

64 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

#Bun writes #party favours #Tony Stark x y/n #Tony Stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #Bruce Banner x y/n #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #We're going to Hell y'all

260 notes · View notes

bravonovel · 3 years ago

Text

His Drama Queen novel read online - Ethan - Bravonovel

His Drama Queen

Blurb : Spoiled, rich, smart, and melodramatic. She graduated Fashion Design in Brazil and was the daughter of a well known artist and the CEO of 'The Vargas' hotel and casino chains. She could get anything she wants at just the snap of her fingers. Even her career. But she didn't. And she wouldn't take advantage of her parents position in society. In fact, she wanted to be successful on her own. But her father didn't want to let her go all the way to New York where she could fulfill her dreams. For him, she was still a little girl.

His Drama Queen novel is a romance story about Ethan.

You can read this novel online on Bravonovel and keep track of the latest chapters.

Read novel His Drama Queen chapter 1

Nicole Vargas

"That's a lot of money, Nicole!" My dad looked displeased at me as he opened his bank account and saw how much money I had spent. "For all I know, you have everything you need. Why do you need to keep on buying stuff?!"

"Papai, I don't!" I muttered looking down at my perfectly polished toes. "It's only sixty-five thousand real."

"Only sixty-five thousand! Are you out of your mind?! That's a lot of money!" he seethed angrily. "Give me your credit card. You will not buy anything for the next two weeks!"

"But dad...," I whined, tears brimming in my eyes. This can't be happening right now. Not when the big ball approaches. "I need to buy a dress for the elite ball next week. And shoes. And makeup!"

"You have a whole store with shoes, clothes, and makeup in your room. You even have three walk-in closets. Choose something you already have."

"But it will be so out of style, dad. Please let me use it for this once. I promise I will not spend that much anymore." I pleaded.

He shook his head. "You already said that the last time. And all the other five times. You're twenty-three and graduated, how can you still be so irresponsible?"

"I'm not irresponsible. I can't help that everything I see is so alluring. It basically calls me to buy it. You know it's hard for me to say no."

"Well, you need to learn to say no to all the alluring stuff. Only buy what you need. Now, you are dismissed, I have work to do. You don't get your card back."

"But papai---," I cried out.

"No arguments Nicole. I already made my decision. You don't know how to spend money, you don't get your credit card back." he said sternly and pointed his finger at the door. "Now, get out of my office, because I need to earn that sixty-five thousand real back."

I grunted angrily and stomped out of his office. I was so mad at him. He earns that money every fifteen minutes, I don't see what's the big deal. Next week there's going to be a big ball where all the billionaires and their families are going to be. It's a really fancy and elite ball and now I don't have anything to wear.

I walked into my bedroom and angrily started to turn on my music, the volume all the way up. Look what you made me do of Taylor Swift blasted in my room and probably through the whole penthouse.

"What is wrong with you, Nicole?" My mom yelled above the music as she barged into my room. "Why are you throwing another tantrum?"

I turned the volume down and huffed. "Dad took away my credit card."

"You spent so much money in three days. What did you expect?" She placed her hands on her hips and cocked an eyebrow.

"Don't take his side."

"Of course I will. You graduated Bachelor of Arts in Fashion Design. Do something with that degree and earn your own money."

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on my king-sized bed. I love Fashion and I loved the field I majored in, but I wasn't feeling to work in Brazil anymore. Everyone knows me, since my dad is the CEO of Brazil's most popular hotel and casino chains. The Vargas.

They would only give me the job because I was his daughter and not because of my degree. My dad also asked me a million times why I didn't want to have my own boutique, he had his connections to make it a reality.

How much I really wanted it, I didn't want to achieve my success through my parents. I wanted to do my own thing and be successful on my own. But If I stay longer in Brazil, I can't achieve my dreams and my dad wasn't ready to let me go yet.

How much I really annoy him and scare the living hell out of him when he sees the amount of money I spent on my shopping trips, he still loved me unconditionally.

"I already told you mamãe, I don't want to open my business here." I sighed, covering my face with my hands. "You know the reason already."

"If it's because of papai then it's a really dumb reason. He can't help that he's so well known. Brazil is also a really good place to start your business. You're familiar with the place." Mom reasoned.

"It's not only papai. It's also you, you're a popular artist. Your work is displayed in all art museums." I got up from my bed and faced my mom. "And by the way, I want a challenge."

My mom shook her head disapprovingly. "Dad will not allow you to go out of the country."

"But why?" I just can't understand why he wouldn't let me go. "I'm not a teenager anymore!"

"Good Luck explaining that to him." With that, my mom turned around and walked out of my room. I let out an angry growl and threw my pillows on the ground. I was so frustrated and annoyed. My parents treated me like I was a porcelain doll, that needs to be protected every single minute because she's so fragile.

But I'm not. I'm not a porcelain doll nor am I twelve. I don't know at what age they will stop treating me like I'm a child. Even when I go for a run, I have to take a bodyguard with me. The place where we live is a high secured neighborhood and you can't enter it without permission. I am their only child and I knew that they wanted the best for me, but this is just too overdone.

I twisted and turned on my bed thinking of ways how to convince my dad that I'm a grown-up woman. While the argument of me and my dad played in my head, I fell asleep.

I don't know for how long I have slept, but when I woke up it was already dawn. I yawned and stretched out before jumping out of bed. It was already seven pm and dinner would start soon. At day time my parents were rarely home. My dad was at his office and my mom was either working on her painting in the east wing of the penthouse or she was at the museum. The maids and I were the only ones at home. Most of the time I went shopping, golfing, or swimming. But when it was dinnertime we would all be around the table.

No excuses.

Dinner time was family time. If my dad had a meeting during dinner time, he had to cancel that. Family comes first.

I closed the curtains of my window and walked downstairs. The smell of Feijoada entered my nostrils. "Mmmmh." I hummed as I entered the kitchen. Feijoada was my mom's specialty. It was warm rice with a stew of beans with beef and pork. It's commonly prepared in Macau, the place where my mom grew up.

My dad was already seated on the dinner table waiting for his food to be served. Even though we were elites, my dad always preferred a meal prepared by his wife. Even for lunch he brought food from home that my mom prepared.

"Hey papai," I seated next to him on the round dining table. "I'm sorry about earlier."

He just nodded. "Good, you're realizing your mistakes."

I smiled stiffly. "So, hmm---," Even though I have asked him this a million times and I know what his answer is going to be, I still keep on asking him. "Can I move to New York, to start my career as a fashion designer."

"No!" was his firm answer. "I already told you. I'll not let you out of this country. We don't have anyone in New York who can watch over you."

"I don't need anyone to watch over me. I'm twenty-three, not twelve."

My mom placed the plates with food on the table and my dad reached over to her and planted a kiss on her cheeks. "It smells delicious, querida. You never fail to amaze me with your cooking." My mom blushed at his compliment.

I sighed and started to eat. The food was delicious as always. My mom was good at everything. Painting, cooking, decorating, fashion, and so much more. She was from everything a little bit. Probably that's why my dad fell in love with her. I, on the other hand, was the total opposite of her. The only thing I'm good at is spending money and eating non-stop.

"Can I have my credit card back papai," I asked in a small voice. Maybe he realized how important a dress for the ball is and---

"No!" My dad stated. "I have already told you that. Let's not argue about it anymore."

"Why are you doing this to me?!" My voice raised an octave. "I'm not twelve, I'm twenty-three for god sake!"

"Nicole!" My mom warned sternly.

"Then act like you're twenty-three. You are throwing tantrums like a three-year-old." My dad said calmly.

I hated when he was acting calm. It made me even more furious.

"That's why you should learn to let me go!" I yelled out and stomped out of the room.

I was so mad. They are treating me like a child and I can't stand it anymore. I needed freedom.

I groaned and kicked my bedroom door shut. What should I do for them to let me go?

......

Continue to read the chapter 2 of the novel His Drama Queen

Read more exciting novels on Bravonovel App

#His Drama Queen #Ethan #Bravonovel #novel #fiction #book #romance #story #read online

6 notes · View notes

manychocolatefactories · 4 years ago

Text

CatCF Milk Chocolate: Part 1, the kids

About this version: Milk Chocolate was inspired originally by a mix of the book, the vibes of the 1971 movie and the Tim Burton movie aesthetic. A bit more goofier and whimsical than the other versions. In term of era, I thought of it as a mix of 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

In this version seven Golden Tickets are spread throughout the world, and each time one is found the same female reporter (her character is a reference to the musical) goes to interview the children. Another recurring joke is that while the hunt is going on for the Tickets, there are all sorts of ridiculous debates on television such as: do the Golden Tickets really exist, or is this just a hoax ? Do the Golden Tickets give cancer? Can animals go on a tour like humans? What happens if a Golden Ticket winner dies before the tour? Are the Golden Tickets linked to the rise of youht delinquence? Are the Golden Tickets a proof of Wonka's alleagiance to the obscure sect of the Golden Bird?

First Winner: Augustus Gloop

(Based on Augustus Gloop)

This Augustus was actually based on an idea Stained-by-the-sea allowed me to "borrow" a bit. Stained noted that Augustus always made him thought of this section from the movie "North", about Buck and the Texan parents. If you don't know what I am talking about, I'll leave links down there. And this is such a perfect matc I had to dig a bit down there.

This Augustus is basically a mix of all the archetypes associated with Texas and Nevada. But more precisely, he is basically "Buck" from North - a boy whose family (and his own mindset) embody the motto "bigger is better".

The Gloop family always thought that they should be "the biggest and the bests" and that "bigger is better". Ironically, the Gloop parents themselves are regular-sized people, but they clearly enforced this mentality on their son. Augustus is a big boy. Literally. He is tall, he is thick, he is fat, he is very, very big. He is probably one of the tallest, and definitively the largest boy on the tour (in fact, he once or twice gets stuck in the doors of Wonka factory). He eats ten meals per day, and we are not talking of regular sized meals. We are talking piles of ribs, kilos of potatoes, entire chickens... His parents also prepared for him a "big" and "best" future - paying the local sportive teams to claim he is a sports champion despite Augustus never setting a foot on a sports field, arranging his marriage with the local beauty queen of the state he lives in, already preparing the three different houses he will live with his fifteen kids... As a result, Augustus isn't just big and fat physically, he also has a massive and bloated ego. He thinks that he is the best at everything, and that he should have absolutely everything he wants.

The Gloops themselves are actually the masters of the state they live in, so to speak. They are the wealthiest and most influential industrials of the area: they built highways, casinos, hotels, private villas, they are cow-farmers, owing a lot of slaughterhouses, and also dig for oil and gold. They want their business to be the "biggest there ever was" and all they do is exaggerately big: their villas are enormous, their hotels are everywhere, their farms hosts several thousands cows, their mines are among the deepest in the world...

Trouble is that, due to their expansion and consumption of everything, they are a threat to the landscape and the environment - destroying forests to build their roads and buildings, drying out the lands to feed their farms... in fact, part of the reason why their state looks like the most desertic parts of Texas and Nevada is due to their actions.

Think... Buck from North. Think Art Land from Mar Attack. Think an evil (and obese) version of Clay Bailey from "Xiaolin Showdown". In fact, if I remember well in one episode Clay turns into a sumo for one of the Showdowns... this would probably be Augustus' appearance in this version: sumo Clay Bailey. (Edit: Yes, I checked out, it is episode 23 of the series).

Second Winner: Clarence Crump

(Based on: Clarence Crump)

Clarence didn't had any kind of personnality in the original drafts outside of a desire to prove he was right. As a result, I decided to have a lot of fun and create my own character.

The idea of vanity has already been touched several times with the other brats, but I wanted to give it its own character and kid. I also wanted to create a polar opposite of Augustus, denouncing the fact that being skinny can be just as bad as being fat when in excess. As a result, Clarence Crump is here a boy obsessed about being thin, and proud of being too skinny for his own good.

Mr. Crump is a pseudo-health guru that keeps writing phony and very dangerous diet books, the kind that will advice you to stop eating altogether to lose weight. As for Mrs. Crump, she is a beauty pageant champion (local and regional, and while she acts as if she was some national beauty champion, she always failed at nationals). From their union was born a child who inherited their vanity, pride and obsession with "health"

Black haired, very pale, very thin, very slender, to the point his bones show, Clarence delights in being skinny, and works as a teenager model promoting the "thin-fashion". He is also the embodiment of fat-shaming, never missing an occasion to insult fat people (in fact he often calls Augustus a big fat cow). He uses however the excuse of health for that (a trick his parents taught him) - promoting extreme thinness by talking about health and fat-shaming people in the name of health allows one to be much more horrible than normally accepted.

A good proof of how Clarence actually is just very vain and obsessed with being thin, and not at all defending health - Clarence condemns sports for being unhealthy, because according to him "muscles are unhealthy because they don't make you look beautiful, they make you look ugly".

He always wears short and black sleeveless tank-tops, the point being that he needs to show as much as his body to the world as possible, to be a "living example". He even wears his black short and tank-top during the tour (despite it being winte - the only thing he wears on top of his clothes to not get cold is a skunk fur coat).

Third Winner: Miranda Grope

(Based on: Miranda Grope)

This character was based on Dahl's own character of "Miranda Grope" from early drafts of the story, the horrible and atrocious girl allowed to do "whatever she wants".

In my version, the Grope parents are hippie-like people, the father having a very long beard and being covered in fleas, while the mother is covered in flowers and oss (plants that grew over her), and both always wearing rose-tinted glasses. They are the kind of parents that refuse authority and orders, seeing these (and social norms as a whole) as a "dictatorship". They prefer to trust their daughter to find her own way in the world, believing that experience is the best teacher in life. The result? They lazily raised her by telling her they would never forbid her anything and that she could do anything she wanted.

Miranda is a devilish little girl who does only what she wants, and becomes extremely violent when prevented from doing something. Or when people say something she doesn't want to hear. Or just when people she dislikes are near her. She shouts, the screams, she insult, she kicks, she hit, she throw enormous and terrifying tantrums. She has a very wide range of insults, and a truly evil mind : most of the things she wants to do are borderline crimes. It seems for her only chaos and destruction is "fun", a true little punk.

Miranda has a disastrous haircut because she cuts her hair herself, and she is always wearing the same clothes that she rarely washes): a white shirt, a blue sweater with long sleeves, and a plaid tiles skirt. An outfit that looks strikingly like a school uniform - but it is pure irony, because Miranda hates more than anything in the world school. She doesn't go to school, and the only time she went near one was to try to burn it down. (Her appearance is in fact based on Lauren Child's illustrations for Miranda, if you are wondering).

Fourth Winner: Veruca Salt

(Based on: Veruca Salt)

For this Veruca, I wanted to do something slightly different... here, Veruca doesn't want everything just because she is a spoiled rich brat. She is still one, but she is also the product of post-WW2 consumerism.

This Veruca was born surrounded by advertisements, logos, slogans and product placements. On television, in the streets, in shops, in journals, at the radio... She grew up with them and was influenced, brainwashed by them. As a result, she is obsessed with obtaining everything that was advertised, and she herelf looks like a walking billboard since she is covered in big, flashy logo and keeps reciting different brands' slogans and mottos. As soon as she sees something she saw publicity of before, she needs to obtain it at once. She is a true zombie, only hearing the call of the shopping mall and of the television advertisements.

One idea I had was that the Salt parents actually worked for (or where at the head of) a wealthy advertisement company, known to produce, design and create all kinds of famous publicities and slogans - and that they used their daughter as a guinea pig for their tests, and delighted in Veruca being so addicted to consumerism. In fact, they may have named her Veruca because at the moment of her birth they were working on advertisements for an anti-wart product, so that's all they had in mind.

Fifth winner: Herpes Trout

(Based on: Mike Teavee)

I went with this version of Mikee Teavee with the focus on "violence" already present in the original work, but also heavily used in the opera (and touched a bit in the 2005 movie).

This Herpes Trout is the embodiment of the fear of kids becoming violent upon watching television and playing video games (his only two passions in life). He has a true fascination with guns and firearms - US soldiers shooting aliens, gangs shooting each other, cowboys shooting at bandits, it's all he ever plays and watches. Herpes worships violence, and is absolutely obsessed with war (here I am thinking of all the wars present from the 60s to the 80s, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, the Glasgow Ice Cream Wars...). War propaganda and the fight being glorifyed heavily influenced him - as a result his biggest dream is to go at war in some foreign country to kill everyone there and come home a hero.

Herpes comes from a family of rednecks and hillbillies from the deep country. They are not poor however, they are wealthy enough to have television and several video games, but they are uneducated people full of stereotypes, discrimination and hate. They named their son Herpes because they ignored what it meant but just thought of it as an "intelligent" name. Herpes has everal brothers and sisters, and all have a disease name.

Herpes himself is a big and strong kid, who followed body-buildings process a la Charles Atlas and military training, becoming impressively muscular. However, he retained a soft, childish and chubby "baby face", which kind of ruins the effect of this massive, muscular, almost adult body. Always dressed in a military outfit, he carries everywhere with him guns and firearms, the question being: are they real? Or are they not?

Sixth Winner: Violet Glockenberry

(Based on Violet Beauregarde)

I wanted with this version to take back the idea of a competitive and "sportive" girl obsessed with contesting and winning - introduced in the Tim Burton movie.

This Violet is a tall, muscular and strong girl. She won numerous sportive competitions, but this doesn't make her just arrogant and prideful like in the Tim Burton version. In my version she is also very aggressive and violent (a bit like in the original novel). She is a nasty and rude bully easily prone to anger (in fact, if she keeps chewing gum it is mostly to calm her down sot hat she doesn't punch everyone around). Her parents originally pushed her towards competitions to manage her anger issues, but sports only gave her more strength and destructive power. In fact, they became terrified of her, while she considers them losers here to serve her - she basically thinks of herself as self-made, literaly.

Seventh Winner: Charlie Bucket

(Based on: Charlie Bucket)

For this Charlie, I wanted to go with a Charlie similar to the original illustrations of the character: blond hair, blue eyes, a white boy...

Basically, he is the original Charlie. Very sweet, very innocent, a gentle kid, the best of the group.

However I changed slightly his background. Charlie in this version is not the grandson of four grandparents, but rather the big brother of four younger siblings - and his family here struggles with trying to feed five children (and a total of seven mouths) despite having very humble and low-paid jobs. I think Charlie has taken the role of a parentive figure for the siblings, but at the same time him spending so much time with young children helped him keep in touch with his "childish" side.

#charlie and the chocolate factory #catcf #milk chocolate #retelling #charlie bucket #violet beauregarde #mike teavee #augustus gloop #veruca salt #miranda grope #clarence crump

14 notes · View notes

thelovelyghostwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Why I started to like Neon Nostrade more (and why she’s more than just a spoilt girl)

Not gonna deny it, I disliked her when I first watched the 2011 anime. It pissed me off that she was gonna sneak out and that's how Chrollo managed to steal her Lovely Ghostwriter ability - which helped him save the Phantom Troupe. By right, Kurapika was supposed to wipe half of them. BUT, let's take a closer look at her character:

1) Most people just say she's spoiled. True! Yet, if you think about it, why is the Nostrade family so affluent in the first place? It's because of her talent. She is her father's cash cow, he's the reason why he had climb through the ranks and possibly gained income. Is it wrong for the girl to shop and spend on clothes that is because of her contribution? A large part of it is her contribution. In fact, her father is the one that is using her, commercializing her talent. Usually, it's the father that churns the cash and the daughter spends it - however, we see it as the other way round.

2) Neon's upbringing is rather wayward. We don't see her mother, and her father's likely more concerned about her ability than his own daughter. Their relationship seems transactional - "you do this, I give you expensive gifts". Because of this, it seems that Neon bathes in materialism (clothes, expensive dead body parts etc.) as a way to fill the void. She actually reminds me of Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby - another woman who is so despondent that she ends up prioritising materialism more (she also gets a lot of hate, but I find her really interesting!)

3) Emotional detachment from the dead. We don't really know why she has a disgusting/weird hobby of keeping dead body parts - an indirect contribution to the Kurta clan's demise. But we can infer what she thinks of people in general, and how she sees the dead. On top of materialism, it seems that Neon is emotionally detached from people in general - probably because of the lack of affections from her father. Her father's sincerity doesn't entirely appear genuine. She was more worried about the auction items when Kurapika informs her that some of her bodyguards died, and we see the rest surprised by her reaction. She actually even tells Chrollo that she does not believe in the afterlife and that her fortune-tellings are for the living. To me, this is a complete juxtaposition to Chrollo's crying when he realised that Uvogin was dead, and Kurapika's emptiness and thirst for revenge because his clan was massacred. Yet, I do think she is capable of sympathy - given her shocked reaction when she saw Eliza breaking down. It was the reason why she wanted to go home early. It seems that she lived in a bubble (maybe girlie just needs a wake-up call?), up until that moment when she saw her attendant being devastated over her lover's death. It's actually called "Dismissive Attachment Style", which is largely influenced by how your caretaker/parent has treated you.

4) The way she behaves with her attendants/bodyguards/father vs the way she behaved around Chrollo is a stark difference. I'd argue that the whole throwing tantrums and escaping shenanigans is a manifestation of wanting attention from her father. Being surrounded by bodyguards, not being able to have the freedom and being on constant surveillance - it's exhausting. She is more genuine and laidback when she had a conversation with Chrollo. It's also surprising how she trusted a random stranger as a desperate attempt to do whatever she liked (and yes it's selfish on her side), I'd argue that it's due to living in a bubble. Unfortunately, this interaction with Chrollo is not genuine on Chrollo's side - it's mainly to steal her ability, which helped Chrollo change the fate of the Phantom Troupe members. Again, we can see that her interactions with people are mostly not genuine - most of her employees only put up with her because of their jobs, her father is more concerned with her ability, her "fans" adore her because of her fortune-telling ability etc. Even Kurapika seek employment from her because of her hobby, so that he can fulfil his mission to collect the Scarlet Eyes; and protecting her to appear more trustworthy to Light Nostrade (we eventually see Kurapika as leading the Nostrade mafia family in the current arc). It's pretty much no wonder why she's emotionally detached.

5) Emotional detachment + spoilt + materialistic + weird-ass flesh collector hobby - not really your role model or someone you could relate to. In fact, morality in Hunter x Hunter characters pretty much don't really exist or it's not clear cut? We got homicidal thieves, a kid that smashes a cat-ant's skull, a freakin' hypersexualised borderline pedo(?) clown, a family of assassins and of course my all-time favourite: the sexy chain-wielding avenger who willingly compromises his moral values to achieve his goal. But, that's kinda why I started to like her? She's so twisted in her own way (like other characters) and justifiably because of her poor upbringing - yet it appals me that many fans dislike her flaws as if she's the worst when the other characters are 10 times worse, but the same fans probably like another morally deprived character. I don't really know the reason, maybe because she's a non-fighting female character or too little screen-time? Lmao.

In fact, her actions are a foil to Kurapika's plans (that was actually the reason why I disliked her initially). Kurapika could have found Chrollo first instead of Zeno and Silva, but her father called Kurapika and he's forced to prioritise her safety. Getting her ability stolen by Chrollo changed the fate of the spiders when Kurapika was supposed to wipe out half of them (but hey, we get the spiders and they're cool). It's kinda weird how she didn't do much, yet the chain of events (pun-intended) altered for Kurapika and the Spiders.

Of course, I'm not saying you cannot dislike her. That's up to you. I guess I just wanted to share why I started to like her and also to share certain characteristics of her that people may have missed out. I'm pretty much sick of people saying that she's just a spoilt brat, she doesn't have character depth... when out of all the female characters, she's one of the few where I can actually dig deeper into her character (maybe I haven't paid attention to the rest, but even my favourite girl, Machi... can't really say I have any analysis on her). All the elements of Neon's character are there, it's just not spelt out for us.

I would like to thank @aspoonofsugar and @anotherworldash in their analysis that helped me think about her character more and really appreciate Neon.

#neon nostrade

22 notes · View notes

thebladeblaster · 3 years ago

Text

Rebirth of the Samurai (Part 1)

Summary: This fic is a what if scenario to SMT4 Apocalypse. I would go into more detail, but I don’t want to spoil too much of what this fic entails. If this fic gains traction I may continue the story on from this one-shot. Warning: This is a long one.

This may be the last I write for awhile with college right around the corner. I won’t stop completely, but it will become a lot slower.

Two pairs of boots solemnly clattered down the road. The young men wore brown peasant garbs with ponchos. They both had fair skin. One had a brown ponytail and brown eyes. The other...had a black ponytail with striking green eyes. No sound came from the two except their boots. The air of silence was becoming overwhelming. They had failed...in their lifelong dream of becoming samurai before it ever even started. The brown haired man seemed the most shaken of the two. The black haired man was saddened definitely, but not quite to the same extent as his fellow. They were in what seemed to be a medieval city.

“Isscharr everything will work out. We might not have become samurai but...Uhh...things will get better.”, the black haired man tried to assure his friend, patting his back.

“...I can’t believe I have to go back to that accursed place! I don’t...I don’t want to be a farmer my whole life, Flynn…This...This was supposed to be our out...”, Ishacarr replied, in a disheartened tone.

“Hoy there.”, the two men stopped as a heavier man in baker’s garb ushered them over.

“I’m afraid we probably can’t afford to buy anything.”, Flynn said in a timid tone, rubbing the back of his head looking away.

“Oh no, it’s not that. Have you two by chance ever heard of literature?”, the baker asked them.

“I don’t believe so...have you Isscharr?”, Flynn asked, looking over to his fellow.

“No…”, Isscharr responded in a quiet tone only further concerning his fellow.

“Literature is very interesting, it's very different from the stories we know. They are about people in great turmoil. It has completely opened up my mind to the problems with society. As I read it I started to realize I have lived in darkness and ignorance up until now. It is adversity that develops a man’s character. After partaking in a sabbath and reading these books, I understand more fully...You see, Luxurors truly think little but their own convenience. Everyone speaks of equality, but that is a ruse we Casualries have been subjected to...”, the baker told them, pulling out the literature and placing it into Flynn’s hand.

The books read “No Longer Human” and “The Dancing Girl”.

“Ooh...but we can’t read.”, Flynn said as he looked down at the unassuming book shuffling awkwardly.

For some odd reason he felt a sudden chill down his spine as he held the literature. Ishacarr raised his head and looked up at the book.

“That is no issue you see by attending a sabbath you can gain the ability to read.”, the baker explained, making Flynn give him a skeptical look.

Isscharr’s eyes widened at the prospect, looking very interested. Flynn clicked his tongue as he felt that chill again. He placed the literature back in the baker’s hands.

“Sorry, but we’re not interested.”, Flynn replied, much to the baker and Isscharr’s shock.

Isscharr’s mouth was agape at Flynn’s response. His fellow wasn’t normally so assertive. “H-hoy don’t speak for me Flynn!”, Isscharr said.

“The sabbaths he mentioned sound extremely shady. The very idea that you can suddenly gain a skill that takes years of education is just ridiculous. Like a deal a demon would try to make with someone in a fairy tale. We’re leaving.”, Flynn replied sternly, very insistent on the last part.

Isscharr sweated nervously.

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Flynn?! Flynn can’t even say no to his mother!”, Isscharr thought.

Something felt different about Flynn the moment the literature was mentioned. It’s almost like he shifted into a completely different person. The change worried Isscharr. Flynn grabbed Isscharr’s hand pulling him away from the baker with surprising strength.

“W-wait! Stop Flynn! I wanna check it out! This may be a chance for us to be something more than just farmers!”, Isscharr said.

Flynn turned to Isscharr looking at him from the side. There was a strange edge that appeared in his eyes that made him jump. The feeling in Flynn continued to grow more powerful.

“Isscharr, we’re going!”, Flynn insisted.

“No! It might be easy for you to go back to Kiccigiorgi with a family that actually accepts you and doesn’t act like you're a nuisance! You can go back! But...I’m not going back there! Not to those people!”, Isscharr yelled as they started to cause a scene.

“Then where will you go?! Where will you live?! Like it or not Kiccigiorgi is our home!”, Flynn questioned.

“Anywhere else!”, Isscharr answered, making Flynn snicker at his fellow’s stubbornness.

“You can’t be serious...you’ll worry you’re parents.”, Flynn replied, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Why am I getting so heated like this? T-this isn’t me...what’s going on?”, Flynn thought, genuinely confused at his behavior.

He felt like he could hardly control himself. This feeling that crept inside him before felt like it was...consuming him. Something in his mind just tells him that he cannot let Isscharr attend a sabbath at any cost.

“I don’t care about those assholes!”, Issachar yelled, making their growing gasp.

Flynn visibly flinched upon hearing Issachar curse his parents.

“You may not, but I’m sure they care about you. I believe their only do hard on you because they care! I’m trying to bring you back because I care about you!”, Flynn replied which made Issachar scoff.

“So, you're taking their side? Just like everyone else! You think I’m weird too! A freak!”, Issachar accused.

“Don’t be childish! There’s no sides! You think I would stick by you for all these years if I thought you were a freak? You're just throwing a childish tantrum! Think Issachar think! Do you really believe you can just run off on your own and do who knows what? We have responsibilities!”, Flynn replied, back sounding far angrier than before at his fellow’s accusation.

Issachar snickered, pulling his arm out of Flynn’s grip and starting to walk away.

“Where are you going?!”, Flynn questioned, as the poor baker looked frantically between the two squabbling fellows not expecting such a fight to break out.

“You might be content being some obedient servant your whole life Flynn. But I’m not! Pfft! A mama’s boy like you probably wouldn’t have made it as a samurai anyway...You're better off returning alone!”, Issachar replied with venom making Flynn shake.

Flynn gripped his fist so tightly they nearly bled. They shook like crazy as Flynn looked down at them.

“Why the heck did I say all of that? What am I supposed to do now?”, Flynn thought, looking back to Issachar’s retreating form.

Flynn prepared to run after his fellow.

“Don’t bother following me! Go home like you obviously want to!”, Issachar replied harshly.

Flynn froze, putting a hand over his heart which felt pierced by his fellow’s words. That hand formed a fist which shook again.

“H-hoy!”, the baker called out nervously, but he was completely ignored by the two fellows who walked off in opposite directions.

The crowd scurried away as Flynn and Issachar walked through. Flynn's eyes were shadowed and he gritted his teeth. Issachar’s gaze briefly drifted over his fellow whose head was lowered he could tell was hurt even from far away. He jerked his gaze away from Flynn not wanting to turn back from his chance to become somebody.

After Flynn got far enough away he collapsed against a wall lowering his gaze further. Men in blue uniforms patrolling the streets looked over to him thinking he was drunk. He flinched as another strange feeling struck him, but it was different from before.

“You alright there sir? It’s a bit too early to be drinking isn’t it?”, the blue uniformed man said.

When he got closer they noticed tears dripping from Flynn’s eyes.

“...I’m not drunk…”, Flynn said, sadness evident in his voice.

Flynn picked himself off the wall and strode past the man. As if to make his situation worse his head was throbbing for some indiscernible reason. The feeling that suddenly struck him only worsened his headache. He continued walking, not knowing where he was going. It was most certainly not back home. Not without Issachar. He thinks maybe they just need space for now. When he got himself back together he would find Issachar and drag him back home. Flynn felt even more miserable when another feeling struck him again. He felt his mind getting increasingly hazy.

“Why is Issachar so stubborn?! Why won’t he let me save him!”, Flynn thought, raising his eyebrow afterward completely puzzled by his own thoughts.

“Save him? What am I talking about?”, he thought.

The pain in his head only increased, making him wince.

“Some people are just too stubborn to deter away from their own folly. You of all people should know that...but together we can save them all. We can save all of mankind.”, a voice said, causing Flynn to stumble.

Who was that? Was he imagining that voice right now or? Flynn looked around for the source of the voice he heard only to find nothing, but people going about their business.

Even as Issachar continued on and found out the location and time of the sabbath from the baker he couldn’t help but think about Flynn. How bizarrely he acted and how he left him. He had this feeling he really shouldn’t leave Flynn alone like this in the ‘condition’ he’s in. It felt like something more was happening to Flynn and he had to save him from...something? What was he saving him from? Being a doormat? But, still Issachar could not drop this intense feeling of dread. Like he may lose Flynn forever...he was just being silly! He had to be. He didn’t know why his thoughts were being so melodramatic.

The sabbath was to be held at midnight. He’d have to be careful due to the country’s curfew. Just another way the Luxurors controlled the Casualries. Issachar was determined to break that control. Perhaps this was what he was meant to do? The leash of control even controlled his best friend to the point he’d snap at him like he had before. He walked into an unassuming carpentry store.

“I’m here for the sabbath.”, Issachar said as the carpenter looked him over.

He led Issachar over to a carpet which slipped away to reveal a secret room. He steeled himself as he walked into the darkness of the room. It was much bigger than he expected. It was packed to the brim with people. Issachar looked in wonder seeing mystic relic lights all over the place. There was also strange demonic statues. Some people were engrossed in the literature, trading books or...Issachar blushed intensely as he looked away at what some others were doing especially on the statues.

“Is this your first time?”, a feminine voice asked.

Issachar turned to the source of the voice nearly jumping when he saw the source. It was a woman covered head to toe in strange black and red armor with eerie red eyes.

“Who are you?”, Issachar asked.

“I am the one people call the black samurai. I am the one who has been distributing literature all over the kingdom.”, the black samurai introduced.

“I see uh…”, Issachar said, looking over briefly before turning his gaze back to the black samurai still flustered.

“It’s not like anything you’ve seen right? That’s why you’re so shocked at what you're seeing here? Everyone is like that at first. These sabbaths are about the spreading of knowledge and breaking free from the strict norms of the kingdom.”, the black samurai said.

“Yeah, definitely...this is all just shocking. I heard that I could learn how to read here. Is that true?”, Issachar asked.

“That...and much more.”, the black samurai said in a seductive voice which made him nervous.

The strange woman led him to where a few people in luxurious clothes were tied up.

“Are those Luxurors? What are you going to do with them?”, Issachar asked.

“Their going to be sacrifices.”, the black samurai said in an abnormally casual tone which made Issachar pale.

Flynn rubbed his temples again as he tried to get to where he heard the sabbath was being held. Combined with the samurai patrolling the streets and his roaring headache getting there was proving difficult for him. But, he would persevere! This was for Issachar! He had to get him back even if it landed him in trouble with the authorities. By the time Flynn made it to the store he was breathing heavily. He looked around the store for wherever the sabbath was being held. He found it bizarre how strangely empty the store was despite the fact a sabbath was apparently being held there. Flynn left no stone unturned as he checked the store. He flinched as he could faintly hear a muffled scream. He ran over to the direction where he heard it throwing off the rug and revealing the secret door. Flynn sweated nervously as he could now better hear screams coming from down below despite that Flynn descended without hesitation.

Blood dripped from the hand now claws of that black samurai who had now revealed her true form as a black vine like demon in a feminine shape. She had a white face and chest along with horns and wings along with a long pointy tail. Her feet were little pincers.

The Luxurors laid dead at her feet while Issachar was still frozen in shock.

“It’s not a true sabbath without blood and we demons love blood. Now, it’s time for you all to become demons!”, the black samurai declared, frightening many in there and garnering confused murmurs.

“Flynn was right! It was a demon deal!”, Issachar thought as the black samurai held out a book to him.

“You can read now. Take full advantage of the knowledge you gain to tear this kingdom asunder!”, as she said that many of those attending’s bodies shifted and morphed in a horrifying manner.

The sounds of their transformations were blood curdling. Issachar trembled as he looked down at the book, briefly cracking it open to see if the words she spoke were true. They were indeed. Issachar could now read at the sacrifice of another’s life...he tried to control his shaking as this all sank into him.

“Don’t feel remorse towards your oppressors. They don’t deserve it now...you can take your destiny into your own hands.”, the black samurai said.

Issachar stil trembling nodded as he started to read the book starting from the beginning. The more he read the more sense her words and the bakers made to him! He could shape his own destiny! He could destroy their tyrannical system and create a truly free world! Bile started to rise up from within him.

“Issachar!”, Flynn called out his voice full of worry.

His friend’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked over to Flynn who looked beyond worried for him especially as he saw the room was full of demons. He was about to call out his name when everything suddenly went black…Snap!

Flynn was speechless when Issachar’s neck shifted unnaturally and he heard a loud snap. With it Issachar’s body went limp...Flynn’s breathing got heavier as his vision was clouded in red. Something within Flynn snapped as well.

“Those worms are far beneath you, destroy every single one of them...kalki then we can lead them to their salvation.”, the voice said in Flynn’s mind.

The black samurai froze when she felt an aura of supreme blood lust coming off of Flynn along with magical power far exceeding master samurai. The other demons quickly turned their attention to Flynn noticing it as well. They gasped as Flynn seem to disappear only for blood to splatter on the wall and a cluster of limp demon bodies. The rest backed away from the man nervously. Flynn held a broken broom in his hand he had gotten from the wall using it as a makeshift blade. It dripped with the blood of their fellow demons.

“C-come on! He’s just one human and we’re all demons! He doesn’t stand a chance!”, a bulky demon with red skin and sharp teeth said.

However, he completely lost the will to fight when Flynn turned to him. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes. All his demon instincts yelled at him to run.

“Fall.”, Flynn said, in a much deeper and menacing tone.

He seemed to disappear again as fire suddenly completely engulfed the red demon. Others shrieked away in fear and some charged at Flynn. However they never stood a chance. He easily evaded their attacks and struck them with various elemental magics they were weak to. The black samurai was completely stunned not expecting any of this. All she knew is that she had to stop Flynn before he killed her too. By the time she broke out of her surprise most of the demons had been completely decimated leaving only a few fearfully hiding. She couldn’t help but flinch when Flynn turned to her as primal fear creeped up inside her. She shot a Maziodyne at Flynn only for her to let out a pained gasp as his hand clamped around her throat. His eyes were filled with unbridled hatred and anger. Something she’d be glad to see especially in such a powerful individual if it wasn’t leading to her own demise. She wondered if this was Gabriel’s doing. No...it had to be someone much more powerful. Before she could finish her though she paled as she felt the highest tier almighty spell charging up, Antichthon. She had no idea how he knew such a powerful spell, something no one in Mikado should know. Either this was the doing of an angel more powerful than Gabriel or that man won the lottery and shifted into a demon far stronger than even the archangels. A devilish smirk formed on Flynn’s face as he saw the fear in her eyes. She hastily tried to claw out the man’s throat before she was completely vaporized. However she couldn’t…

Issachar gasped as he looked around, suddenly regaining consciousness. He was sure he had died after all his neck snapped somehow. He looked extremely fearful as the first sight that greeted him was his best friend covered in blood and grinning like a madman. He paled when Flynn started laughing, noticing he didn’t sound like himself at all. His voice was distorted much deeper than normal. He noticed Flynn’s normal green in his eyes was now replaced with an unnatural glowing golden.

“He’s been possessed.”, was the first thought to cross Issachar’s mind.

Everything started to make sense now...Flynn’s strange behavior before...that odd feeling he had...oh no, something has taken over his best friend! He remembered how hurt Flynn looked before he left saddened and confused. Had Flynn not been in control of himself then either? It made sense considering how out of character he was. He trembled as an immense power radiated off Flynn and he was engulfed in a white light which shook the entire building. Issachar covered his eyes before desperately calling out his Flynn’s name.

When the light cleared what stood was a taller being with armor-like ebony skin. Bits of gold lined it’s body and it was adored with a fancy ebony robe on his lower half lined with gold more lavish than that of any Luxurors he knew. It had a long black cape which fluttered despite the lack of wind. It wore some sort of strange head piece unlike anything Issachar had ever seen keeping the same theme as the rest of its body. In its hand was some odd pink flower which he had never seen before either. He had an impressive physique that put any samurai he had seen to shame. The whites of its eyes were red and its eyes were gold along with the bottom part of its eyes. He recognized the hair as Flynn’s though it was now draping down his shoulders.

“Flynn?”, Issachar questioned, barely able to form words.

He could feel the presence before him was much greater than anything he’s ever felt in his life. It felt godly. It was very terrifying, but also made you want to bow before it and worship it. It felt extremely dominating...this thing wasn’t Flynn it was something else which had taken him over. He tried to calm his shaking when his attention fell unto himself. The sinister smirk on his face lessened a bit, becoming something more human.

“Issachar...We will save you all.”, he said in a deep godly voice sounding like he was in a trace.

“Hoy Flynn! Snap out of it! This isn’t you!”, Issachar called out.

The smirk didn’t leave the strange being face as he looked down at him.

“Flynn is mine.”, the being said with Flynn’s distorted voice.

Those three simple words made Issachar shake. They confirmed his fear that something truly had taken over Flynn. Despite his fear Issachar found the strength to stand before the almighty being. Even when he was upset at him and the horrible things he said to him Flynn still ran to help him without hesitation.

“L-let him go, you demon! Flynn you're the kindest person I know and your loving parents...No everyone is waiting for you to come back to Kiccigiorgi! You can’t let this monster swallow you up!”, Issachar called out to his best friend desperately.

The being fidgeted slightly as if Flynn heard him, but quickly returned to its former demeanor.

“I am no lowly demon. I am a god, one who shall save all of humanity from its vile creator. I will bring salvation even to a lowly undead being like yourself.”, the being said, making him angry.

Issachar was struck by his words and a horrible realization fell upon him. He had died and turned into a zombie.

“Salvation my ass! All you have done is made my friend kill all these people! We don’t need or asked for your salvation and Flynn doesn’t want it either!”, Issachar yelled.

He heard a low growl from the being which sounded like roaring thunder. He shook, but stood his ground as anger radiated off the being.

“I am what’s best for him. He must give in to me completely and he will be saved.”, the being replied.

That statement implied for Issachar that Flynn was still in there. He hasn’t completely given in to this thing yet. Anger bubbled up inside Issachar at the being’s arrogant words.

“It just sounds like you want to control him! You're no different from the Luxurors who have been trying to control us our whole lives thinking ‘you’ know what’s best for us! Something like you has no idea what’s best for us! Now, let go of my friend demon!”, Issachar yelled, throwing a punch at the being.

When the blow impacted the being it didn’t even flinch. Though there was a loud crack of Issachar’s bones snapping as his arm bent in an unnatural angle. Issachar saw something flicker in the being’s eyes, concern. The being fidgeted again growling lowly.

“Flynn, stubborn man!”, the being growled in annoyance as it twitched, losing control as its hand reached out for Issachar.

Strong arms wrapped around Issachar protectively. Flynn’s concerned gaze lowered down to his broken arm. Flynn lifted up the strange flower and a pink light emitted from it completely healing his wounds. Issachar rubbed his now healed arm which was good as new.

“Don’t waste your effort! He will only be saved after we create our new world, kalki!”, the being said from Flynn’s lips.

“Shut up! I will never create your world and I will never be your godslayer! Now, get out Krishna!”, Flynn growled.

They stumbled back from Issachar making him reach out to them. Flynn grabbed his head as he struggled to regain control over his body.

“Hoy Flynn, don’t lose to him! You have to beat him!”, Issachar yelled.

Light engulfed Flynn’s body again as he returned to normal and fainted. Issachar caught Flynn before he could hit the ground and held him close to him. He hurriedly ran out of the building and scurried away to the road outside of the capital leading to Kiccigiorgi. He slashed at all the samurai who jumped in to stop him with his claws and escaping. Flynn was still unconscious over his shoulder. Issachar didn’t stop running even as he felt like his legs were decomposing from all the running. The sun felt like it was trying to purify his unholy body. It burned like crazy and he panted heavily. He could see it himself but the whites of his eyes were blood red. He could no longer feel the presence from before inside Flynn; he seemed to have completely returned to his natural human self. He even smelled human. Perhaps because it was possession Flynn was able to turn back? Why he wasn’t stuck like him, who had briefly embraced the demonic and transformed? He just hoped that thing was gone from Flynn, Krishina as he called it. Morning dawned by the time they made it back to Kiccigiorgi. He had put some water from lake Mikado on their clothes to wash the blood off them.

Flynn stirred as he started to regain consciousness. He looked around to see he was now back in Kiccigiorgi draped onto Issachar’s shoulder. He blinked repeatedly and his mind felt slurry. His green eyes seemed cloudy though as he blinked the cloudiness left.

“Hoy Flynn, are you alright?”, Issachar asked.

“W-what happened? When did we get back? I remember we had a fight and I was acting strange then everything gets blurry from there…”, Flynn said in his normally timid tone, he put his hand on his temple.

“You can’t remember Flynn? You don’t remember the sabbath?”, Issachar asked.

“Sabbath? We went to the sabbath?”, Flynn questioned with confusion and concern.

Issachar was stunned that Flynn really didn’t remember anything that happened. It must have been a side effect of his possession by Krishina. His eyes had returned to normal as a fellow villager walked over to them.

“Looks like you two didn’t get to become samurai. Hoy Flynn are you alright over there?”, the woman asked, noticing him leaning on Issachar.

“I-I’m fine. My head just feels so loopy I can just sleep it off later.”, Flynn replied.

“You don’t seriously intend to work in your condition do you?”, Issachar questioned.

#smt4 #smt4 apocalypse #shin megami tensei #flynn smt #issachar #the black samurai #lillith #my crappy writing #what if

2 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone: Chapter 1

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

His flight lands at JFK shortly before two in the afternoon. He’d slept for the better part of it; worn out from the lengthy hikes in the oppressive heat. Something to eat and a shower had done him some good. Easing the majority of tightness in his back and shoulders and tackling some of the swelling and pain in his right knee. It remains the proverbial thorn in his side; first replacement failing after only a year and a half and then having lengthy and painful recovery issues following the second one. He’ll never be able to fully straighten that leg or go a day without some swelling or pain. The surgeons had done the best they could under the circumstances; warning him of excessive and irreparable damage done to the surrounding ligaments and tendons and preparing him for a third surgery before he hits sixty.

While miserable and hobbling at times, it’s still nowhere near as agonizing as what he’d been living with before. Ninety percent of his nights are spent sleeping straight through; very rarely is he woken by pain, nor does he have to resort to the alternating of hot and cold showers in effort of relieving some of the suffering. And there’s been no nightmares. Two and a half years of NOT having his rest disrupted by vivid and terrifying recollections of his times in Dhaka. THAT’S more of relief than the absence of pain; the troubles with his mind finally giving him reprieve thanks to a strict regime of medications and therapies. There’s been no manic or severely depressive moments; moods managed relatively well and healthy coping mechanisms long ago replacing the damaging and dangerous behaviours he’d once turned to.

It helps to have a support system. Knowing there’s someone in your corner that will constantly cheer you on; never letting you get discouraged or allowing you to give up on yourself. Oftentimes...when things get particularly bad...willingly carrying some of the burden and despair themselves. Had it not been for her, he would have surrendered a long time ago. He would have easily resorted back to the booze and the drugs; his life empty and meaningless and not worth the effort and the oxygen it took to stay alive.

He woke an hour before landing and placed two calls. The first to Dylan’s Candy Bar; a favourite destination of the kids every time they make a trip to the Big Apple. It’s one of the places they insist on visiting at least twice. Shamelessly dropping nearly all their spending money given to them by their parents; filling their shopping bags to the brim with sweet treats and various trinkets. The order was simple; seven plastic buckets -each adorned with the kids’ favourite cartoon character or superhero- filled with their candy and chocolate of choice and gift certificates for the sundae bar. The second call is placed to the ‘go to’ local florist. Two dozen long stemmed sweetheart roses; white, pink, and purple. It makes him happy; being able to both surprise and spoil her. The latter always launches a protest on her behalf; reminding him that she isn’t a materialistic person and most certainly doesn’t expect or need expensive gifts. But he can’t help himself. While they live remarkably simple and low key in the grand scheme of things, it’s no secret that money is no longer an issue; their bank account will never run dry and there will always be cash -BIG cash- rolling in. And he feels she deserves to be spoiled and treated like a queen. Not only giving him seven kids in as many years, but staying by his side through thick and thin; never giving up on him -or the- even when things were their darkest and direst.

She’s been with him from the humblest of beginnings; when he had absolutely nothing to offer her. Money had been scarce. Nearly all their combined savings used up on a mountain of medical bills; his long and painful recovery from Dhaka making any and all employment impossible. It was worrisome; wondering how the hell he’d keep a roof over her head and food in her pregnant belly. If he couldn’t manage THAT, how was he going to be able to properly care for a kid? They hadn’t had much back then; that tiny apartment outside of Sydney filled with used and mismatched furniture and barely any clothes in their closets. But she’d hung in there. Agreeing to marry him even though he couldn’t even afford to give her a ring, let alone a proper wedding. Loving him with every fibre of her being and always looking at him as if he was the most incredible man on earth; declaring that he made her feel safe and protected and that she’d never...EVER...felt that way before.

And that’s why he does. All of that blind faith and love and trust that she’s always possessed. The chances she’s given to him; forgiving him for all the broken promises and all the lies he told -never maliciously, only as a means of keeping her safe- and the times he fell off the wagon and went back to the booze and drugs. So many times she could have walked away; taken the kids and fled the country and made sure that he would never find them. But she never did. She never let it...HIM...break them. No matter how hard it got, no matter tears she shed, no matter how volatile the arguments or how many holes he punched in the walls, she never gave up. Even when she did kick him out, it hadn’t been a sign of defeat. It had been a warning; telling him that she wouldn’t allow someone like him in her children’s lives and he needed to clean up his act. He’s still ashamed that it took as long as it had. Six months spent wallowing in his self pity and despair; twenty four weeks away from his family because he was too scared and too weak to face his problems head on and try to solve them. And she’d taken him back; a tearful phone call in the middle of the night begging him to come home. They’d stayed up until dawn; having the calm and rational heart to heart that they should have indulged in months..if not YEARS...ago. And finally he’d been ready to change; crying and begging for forgiveness and promising to do whatever it took to make things right again.

To make THEM right again.

Although Anil had arranged for a private car to take him home, he opts for a taxi instead. While he appreciates Anil's continued generosity, it’s far too ‘flashy’ for him; a black Lincoln with tinted windows pulling up into Gramercy Park will only draw attention from the neighbours. While everyone residing there is just as wealthy -if not more- things are still relatively low key; North American made SUVs and sedans in place of luxury models from overseas, no outward displays of disgusting riches and pompous attitudes. He knows he and his family are an enigma of sorts; nine of them from Australia showing up out of the blue and dropping huge cash -especially for what’s considered a young family- on a place that'd been on the market for nearly two years. Then spending an exorbitant amount of money transforming the three story townhome into exactly what they wanted. Adding a private and secluded back deck complete with a wet bar and a hot tub and an area for outdoor food prep and grilling. Blowing the one wall out in TJ and Tanner’s room; removing would have been a study in favour of turning it into built in queen sized bunk beds and enormous walk in closets with enough space for clothes and toys. And a home gym stocked with the best equipment money can buy and a top of the line sound system; ; an addition off the kitchen that had been a last minute decision. It had taken two years and a dozen trips to and from Australia and New York CIty to get everything just right. Finding joy in seeing just what all the hard work and seemingly endless shedding of blood, sweat, and tears, could actually bring to their family.

When he’s two blocks away he texts his wife, letting her know he’s mere minutes from their front gate. The three littlest love that final stretch; kneeling on the couch and pressing their noses against the living room window as they impatiently await his arrival. She’ll try to get boots and coats on them in time; more often than not chasing them out the front door with winter apparel in hand, shouting about the dangers of frostbite and hypothermia and how they don’t want to spend their entire Christmas break stuck in bed with the flu. It’s been an adventure; raising seven children. Definitely not for the faint of heart or those lacking in patience. There’s the frustrating moments; two or three throwing temper tantrums in unison, an often mouthy and rebellious pre-teen girl that makes her mother her primary target, a ten year old boy that has absolutely no fear; who indulges -and excels- in even the most aggressive of sports and gets bored and irritable if he isn’t keeping himself moving. It’s chaotic and it’s noisy. School mornings are a whirlwind of activity; breakfast for a family of nine, the oldest helping finish and pack lunches, mom and dad working on getting the less independent kiddos ready and out the door. But there’s a lot of fun under that roof; an endless supply of giggles and little arms always ready and willing to wrap you in a hug. The great times far out number the trying and exhausting ones; rewarded with kisses and cuddles and those crinkly eyed smiles.

And there’s a lot of love in that house. If the pain and the worry and the fear that his brush with death had five years ago had taught him anything, it’s that they truly are capable of getting through even the toughest of times. They ARE stronger together than they are apart; fighting through all the pain and all the tears and coming out the other side relatively unscathed. And they’ve become stronger; as individuals AND as a couple. Their marriage has never been healthier. Rational and calm discussions taking the place of often volatile arguments and taking every opportunity presented to them for ‘one on one time’; whether it be date nights or their evening walks along the beach or coffee out on the deck while the sun rises. Seamlessly and effortlessly working as a team when it comes to raising their children, but never forgetting how important it is to acknowledge the bond that exists between them. Not just as spouses and two people that made babies together, but as best friends and lovers and each other’s biggest supporters and most loyal confidants. Marriage therapy has turned out to be the best thing they ever could have agreed to; able to acknowledge their weaknesses as both a couple and as individuals. Opening their eyes to the little things that annoyed and often -unintentionally- hurt one another and tested the limits of their patience.

Things aren’t perfect. But most days they seem damn close to it.

****

Clad in a cumbersome ski jacket and a pair of heavy and clunky winter boots, five year old Takota scrambles onto the living room couch. Leaning stomach first against the back cushion, he places his elbows along the top and heaves a long, forlorn sigh. “He’s late.”

Beside him -and already bundled into her own cold weather gear- Addie casts a glance towards the clock that graces the nearby fireplace mantle. “It’s only been eight minutes.”

“Mummy said he’d be here in FIVE minutes.”

“Maybe the traffic is bad. Maybe the cabbie is a really slow driver. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“I hope so.” Another dramatic sigh. “I wonder why daddy had to go away in the first place?”

Addie twirls one of the braided tassels on her knitted hat around her index finger. “‘Cause Kota, he’s the boss and sometimes bosses have to go and boss people around. In person. Not just on the phone and through the computer.”

“Maybe he had to go and yell at them,” Takota suggests, and pushes his beanie towards the back of his head, then uses a forearm to clear beads of sweat from his brow. “His voice is REALLY loud when he yells. I bet he scared them . Do you think they cried?”

“I would cry if he yelled at me.”

“Daddy never yells at us. He doesn’t need to. He just gives us the stink eye. You know, ‘the look’.”

“The look is scarier than when he yells, I think. He yells at Millie sometimes.”

“That’s ‘cause she deserves it. We don’t. We’re just little. She’s big and mean. And bad. Really bad.”

“Who’s bad?” Brooklyn asks, soles of her boots loud against the laminate flooring as she clomps into the living room, then squeezes her tall and slender frame between the window and the back of the couch.

“Millie,” her twin replies. “All the time.”

“That’s ‘cause she’s almost a teenager,” Brooklyn reasons. “All teenagers are bad.”

“I think it’s ‘cause she’s just a big bitch,” Addie declares.

Voices -especially high pitched little ones that don’t come with a volume switch or understand the meaning of the word ‘whisper’- travel easily through the main floor. Particularly through the open concept design that seamlessly combines living room and kitchen; high ceilings and easy to clean carpet free flooring. A definite must have with seven kids and two dogs. And as she stands at the kitchen island nursing a mug of tea, Esme’s eyebrows arch as she catches the profanity that slips from her soon to be six year old’s mouth.

“Hey!” she calls, and drops her chin to her chest and narrows her eyes. “Language. Please.”

“Sorry,” Addie gives a sheepish grin, then turns back towards the window. “It’s true though.”

“Mum,” Takota turns to face the back of the couch; a pout on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. “You said he’d be here in five minutes. It’s been an hour.”

“It’s been ten minutes,” she informs him. “It’s snowing out. People forget how to drive when it’s snowing. Traffic is probably bad. Patience, young sir.”

“I don’t have any patience. I’m five, remember? Why did daddy have to go away again?”

“He had some business to take care of. Far away.”

“He’s been gone for like a year.”

“I know it seems that way, but he’s only been gone for four days. Five if you count the night he left.”

“Why’s he leave when we’re sleeping?” Brooklyn inquires, as she traces a fingertip along the edges of the paper snowflakes -done in various colours and sizes- that she and her siblings had created and taped to the glass the evening before. “Why doesn’t he wait to say bye to us?”

“Because most of the flights leave at night. It’s not personal.”

“He should at least wake us up,” Takota says. “I hate not getting to say bye to him.”

“I don’t know, I’m kinda of glad that he DOESN’T say bye,” Addie pipes up. “I’d cry for sure. It’s better if he goes when I’m asleep. So I don’t ugly cry.”

Their chatter turns to plans to build snowmen in the small expanse of backyard, hopes of going sledding, and excitement over the buckets of candy that had been delivered only thirty minutes earlier. The bouquet of flowers sits in the middle of the dining table; a stunning arrangement of long stemmed sweetheart roses in her favourite colours and accompanied by a card that simply reads: I LOVE YOU. While not a fan of grand romantic gestures, over the past five years he’s shown an increased propensity for these ‘out of the blue’ moments. It can be simple yet thoughtful and personal things. Her favourite cupcakes from the local bakery back home, flowers being delivered to the bookstore in the middle of the day, or him taking a break from seemingly endless hours of ‘in office’ work and showing up with lunch for the both of them. Just taking the time to be with her is what matters most to her; the affection he gives and effort he puts into making sure she realizes just how often she’s on his mind. And how much he appreciates her and loves her and truly can’t imagine his life without her.

Then there’s the bigger and more elaborate things; the desire to spoil her every chance he gets, claiming it makes him happy to do so. She always protests. Reminding him that that’s NOT why she fell in love with him; marrying him when they both had very little yet their lives somehow seeming simpler and less stressful. But it just goes in one ear and out the other. his persistence and stubbornness always getting the upper hand. Showering her with jewelry and designer clothing and accessories; surprising with spa appointments and ‘girls weekends’ away with her sister. And then there’s the twice yearly ‘mommy and daddy only’ trips he insists they take. One always to their favorite getaway in Phuket, Thailand, and the other destination always kept a secret until they actually land. He says it makes him happy; being able to just randomly treat her to things they’d never been able to really afford before. Truly believing that she deserves to be spoiled; wanting a way to show how much he appreciates her and how grateful he is for the life she’s given him. A chance to prove he CAN be a good husband and father and that his past mistakes in no way to define who he truly is. And he always talks about how fortunate he is that he found a strong woman; someone that stuck around during even the hardest and darkest of times. Always loyal and faithful. Loving him when he didn’t make it easy to.

He’s come a long way in five years. THEY’VE come a long way. Both separately and as a couple. Therapy has made a world of difference; helping them get to the bottom of both individual issues and those causing friction and tension in their marriage. It had taken him a while to accept the idea of couples counselling; afraid that needing it was a sign that things were far worse than he thought they were Slowing coming around to the realization that it wasn’t because they had serious problems that had to be addressed, but because they needed to find ways to keep those issues from cropping up in the first place. Both had needed to be reminded that their roles in each other’s lives went far beyond just being spouses and raising children together. That the bond that existed between them surpassed what most normal couples could lay claim to. Best friends. Lovers. Each other’s most trusted confidants and most loyal and steadfast supporters. Once they began taking time out to spend together, they soon learned how to nourish those very different roles in each other’s lives. Their marriage started to see the benefits almost immediately; becoming stronger and their appreciation, gratitude, and love for another growing beyond anything either of them could imagine.

“Momma?” Takota appears on the other side of the island, having to stand on his tiptoes to see over the countertop. Like his Tanner and Addie, he’s on the small side; not blessed with the tall and lanky genes that the others -including his twin sister- had been given. And like Tanner, he is soft spoken and serious; loving to spend time outdoors, yet preferring quieter pursuits. Very creative; indulging in painting and drawing and any form of craft that he can get his hands on.

She glances up from the copy of the New York Times open in front of her. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Do you think daddy went away because he had to kill someone?”

“What?” She gives a startled chuckle. “Why would you…?”

“TJ said that daddy used to kill people. Before he became a boss. That he was a mer...mer…”

“Mercenary,” she finishes for him, then pushes the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows and moves to the stove; stirring the contents of a simmering pot. One of Tanner’s many culinary creations; a rather creative mixture of chicken, taco seasons, and various vegetables. It’s his newfound passion; cooking and baking. And he insisted that some of that day’s lunch be left over so daddy could try it when he got home.

The little things go both ways. She’s found her own ways of spoiling him and showing her gratitude and appreciation. Today it’s a warm meal and fresh, hot coffee and the hot tub on the back deck already bubbling; relief for what she knows will be an aching and weary body.

“Is it true? That he used to kill people? When he was one of those? A mercenrie?”

“Mercenary,” she slowly repeats. “And yeah, sometimes. Sometimes he DID have to.”

“Because they were bad people?”

“Very bad people.”

“Is that why he had to go away? To kill bad people?”

“I don’t know why. I didn’t ask for details. He just had to go away for a few days.” It isn’t entirely true. He did in fact head to Laos and Cambodia to do just THAT; two high profile drug and weapons smugglers with enormous price tags on their heads and lengthy lists of enemies. But he’d also said that there was ‘more to it’; things that she didn’t need to know. Details that made HIM extremely unsettled. Something THAT bad? He preferred not to place it upon her shoulders.

“Is he going to go to hell? Because he killed people?”

“No.” She scoops some of the soup from the pot and holds it to her lips; aggressively blowing on it and then checking the temperature with the tip of her tongue before offering it to her son.

Takota eagerly accepts the ‘snack’. “Are the people he killed going to hell?”

“How about we NOT talk about this? If you want to know those kinds of things, you ask daddy. He’ll be able to answer your questions a lot better than I will.”

“I think you’re just throwing him under the bus. Setting him up for failure. We BOTH know he won’t tell me.”

“You are way too smart for five. Taste good? The soup?”

“Really good. Tanner could be a really famous chef one day, I bet. I’m gonna be a lion tamer.”

Grinning, she moves back to the island and snags her mug; heating the tea with some of the remains sitting in the pot she had made earlier. “You are, are you?”

“Daddy said I could be whatever I want to be when I grow up. And I want to be a lion tamer. And maybe a dentist.”

“Both at the same time?”

“I can’t tame lions and fix teeth at the same time. That’s just weird.”

“Mum!” Brooklyn bellows from the living room, then begins pounding her palm against the window. “That weird guy is back again!”

“He’s talking to TJ,” Addie chimes in. “I think TJ is going to tell him off. TJ doesn’t like him. He thinks the guy’s an asshole.”

“Adeline! Language!” she scolds, and then turns the burner on the stove to the nearest possible setting and heads through the kitchen and out into the living room, Takota hot on her heels.

“Why is he back?” Brooklyn unlocks the latch on the window and aggressively shoves it open. “Why are you back, weirdo?! You already shovelled the sidewalk! It hasn’t snowed enough yet! Go away! Mum…” both brows are arched as she glances over her shoulder. “...TJ is going to flip out. The weirdo is asking if you’re here. He called you pretty. I heard him! TJ is pissed!”

“Hey! Hey you!” Addie yells out the window. “My brother is going to kick your ass!”

“No one is kicking anyone’s ass,” Esme says, and shoves her feet into a pair of Crocs by the front door and snags one of the many coats from the hall closet; a snowboarding jacket that belongs to her husband and is monstrous on her tiny frame. And she barely manages to get the front door open; the three littles rushing past her and out onto the freshly shovelled porch and half completed steps.

“Why don’t you just go away!” TJ is barking at the ‘hired help’; a neighbourhood kid that she’d hired three years ago to handle the sidewalk IF Tyler was away. TJ had willingly taken on the responsibility of snow cleaning their first Christmas in Gramercy Park. Happy to be in charge of keeping the walk, stairs, and porch clean, but knowing that anything past the front gate is off limits. “You already did the sidewalk! It doesn’t need done again!”

“What’s going on?” Esme wraps an arm around her son’s shoulders and pulls him tightly into her. He’s tall for only ten; less than an inch away from squeaking past her in height. Still slim yet not as lanky and awkward looking; shoulders broader and muscles in his upper body already forming and becoming defined. A direct result of his love for sports and the kid friendly workouts in the gym that his dad let’s him partake in.

“This guy…” TJ nods in the teenager’s direction. “...wants to talk to you. He called you pretty. He asked ‘where’s your pretty little mom?'. I don’t like the way he said it. And dad wouldn’t like it either.”

“Is there a fight?” Tanner inquires, as he and Declan emerge from the side of the house; hearing the shouting from the backyard where they’d been keeping an eye on the dogs and building ‘snow fortresses’. “Who’s fighting?”

“No one is fighting,” Esme replies. “Just a misunderstanding between your brother and Jacobi. I’m sure it’s nothing, TJ. Go back to what you were doing. Daddy will be home soon. It’ll be a nice surprise for him; seeing everything shovelled off.”

“I don’t like this drongo,” TJ declares, and gestures towards the teenager with the end of the shovel. “He called you pretty. No one calls my mum pretty. Even if she is.”

“Beat him up,” Delcan suggests. “Daddy would.”

“Daddy would NOT beat someone up for no reason,” Esme informs him. “Especially not a teenager. Jacobi,” she turns to the teen in question. He’s a senior at the high school only three blocks away; a nice enough kid from an upper middle class home, constantly clad in backwards ball caps, baggy jeans, a varsity football jacket. “Now is NOT a good time. My wallet’s inside and I have no cash on me and my husband’s going to be home any second and it’s going to get really crazy around here. And loud. Very loud.”

“You don’t have to pay me until next time. I was just going to ask you if…”

TJ steps in front of Esme, forming a protective barrier between her and the unwanted visitor. “My mum’s married,” he snarls. “To my dad. Leave her alone! My dad is big and he’s strong and he can hurt people. With one hand. And if he finds out you’re mackin’ on my mom…”

“Tyler..” she places her hands on his shoulders. “...enough. No one is ‘macking’ on anyone. Jacobi is just being friendly. He shovels the sidewalk for us when dad isn’t here. And takes the garbage to the curb. He’s just trying to be friends.”

“My mom doesn’t need any more friends. Especially GUY friends. Seriously, my dad will kill you. Trying to get with my mom? Yeah, my dad will lose his shit. And you don’t want him to lose his shit. He’ll break you half. With his bare hands.”

“He’s very protective,” Esme explains to the teen, and gives an apologetic smile. “When dad leaves, he takes the role of ‘man of the house’ very seriously. You’re more than welcome to come back later; you can come in and have some hot chocolate or you can stay for dinner.”

“Oh now he’s coming to dinner?!” TJ huffs. “He just wants to try and get in your pants, mum. It’s obvious.”

“You’re ten. You don't know what's obvious when it comes to those things. You need to settle down. Jacobi is harmless. He’s just trying to be friends. Wouldn’t that be nice? To have friends here? It’s always nice to have friends.”

“I have friends back home. I don’t need them here. I got Tanny and Declan. What do I need HIM for?”

“Daddy!” Addie shrieks, as she stands on the lower rung of the wrought iron fence that borders their slice of property. One mitten clad hand wrapped around one of the posts while the other frantically waves at the yellow cab that pulls up to the curb. “Daddy! Daddy’s home!”

******

Chaos erupts; the gate being thrown open and a stampede of six human bodies and two dogs trying to steamroll their way through. The pure joy on those little faces and the excitement in their voices enough to cause a lump of emotion to settle square in his throat and tears to prick at his eyes; the latter hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses. It had taken work to get past the feelings of inadequacy. The self hate and guilt and shame that had been telling him for years that he didn’t deserve the life he’d been given; a second chance at being a husband and father. Therapy has helped him get past that; helping him learn how to forgive himself and look at everything he DOES have instead of constantly questioning WHY he does. Now all he thinks about is how damn lucky he is; to have created seven human beings and to know how much they love him and how much they need him in their lives.

He barely gets a foot on the curb before the three littlest are on top of him. Shrieking and squealing with happiness and grabbing at the legs of his jeans; all three chattering at once, anxious for his undivided attention and begging to be picked up. He opts to dropping to one knee; not caring about the snow and the slush that soaks his leg or dirties the fabric. All that matters is those kids; three sets of arms wrapping tightly around his neck and those and those tiny voices giggling and happily screeching in his ears. And he gives each one the same attention; laying on the back of their heads and pressing kisses to their lips and cheeks.

“Daddy!” Addie climbs onto his thigh and squeezes his neck even tighter. “I missed you! I missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Peanut. Every second of every day. I missed ALL of you.”

“But me the most, right? You missed me more than anyone, right?”

“ALL of you. I don’t have favourites.”

“Yes, you do. I know it’s me, daddy. Everyone knows it’s me.”

“Maybe I’ve got a little soft spot for you. But you know who my absolute favourite is? My most favourite human in the whole world?”

“Mummy.”

“Exactly.” He gives her a final squeeze and peck on the cheek, gently sliding her off of his thigh and then standing; wincing at the discomfort in his right knee and the tightness in his shoulder when he slings his piece of luggage -a simple backpack often used during hiking and camping excursions with the family- up onto it. “Hey little red,” he greets Declan, and affectionately ruffles both the winter hat and the shock of red hair underneath. “What happened? Grow another foot while I’m gone? You look taller.”

“I’m going to be a giant like you, dad,” Declan declares, then stands on his tiptoes with his lips pursed for a kiss. “Mum says I might even be BIGGER than you.”

“Guess I better watch my step, huh? Treat her right? Or you’ll be kicking my ass when you’re older. What about guys?” He addresses the oldest twins, clapping a hand on the back on the back of TJ’s neck and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

Tanner...and his needs...are different. He’s the more sensitive of the two; so much like his mother when it comes to a near constant need to show and receive affection. And since his Autism diagnosis almost five years ago -high functioning, as the developmental pediatrician had called it, a term that Tyler finds gets under his skin and leaves a foul taste in his mouth- they’ve all learned just WHAT Tanner needs. Whether it be ‘sensory breaks’ when feeling overwhelmed or anxious or more one on one interaction. Today it’s deep pressure. Tyler feels his son’s need for it the second Tanner’s arms wrap around his waist. He’s struggling emotionally; likely missing him the most out of all the kids and having a hard time adjusting to being away from home and not having his usual routine. It’s been difficult to adjust to; trying to find that balance between giving Tanner what he so desperately needs and craves yet not alienating or neglecting the needs of the others.

“Hey, mate.” He presses a kiss to Tanner’s temple, then wraps both arms around his petite frame. Knowing the exact amount of pressure he needs to put into the embrace. It will last longer than what he’d shared with the others. Long ago getting used to Tanner’s ‘signs’; knowing it’s better for his son’s mental state if he allows Tanner to be the one to break contact.

The ten year old’s demeanour begins to change almost instantly; tension releasing from his body and his heart rate slowing down and the head to toe tremors disappearing. And he holds on until Tanner is good and ready to pull away, then places his hands on his son’s shoulders and crouches down to make them eye level. Smiling when his sunglasses are gently and carefully pulled off his face. That contact again; Tanner needing to be able to read the emotions and even the thoughts that he always says is ‘written in daddy’s eyes’.

“You good?”

Finally a smile. One that crinkles the corners of his eyes and creases the bridge of his nose. “I’m good, dad.”

“Good,” he leans in and presses a kiss to Tanner’s lips. “Miss me?”

The ten year old nods.

“How much?”

“Lots.”

“Just lots?”

The smile broadens. “Tons.”

“I knew it. I missed you too. Tons. I brought you something. From Vietnam. Remember how when I told you where I was going, you did all that research? Especially about the animals? What was your favorite one?”

“The sun bear.”

“Look what I found.” Reaching into the pocket of his navy wool pea coat, he pulls out a small porcelain statue of a sun bear. It had taken him two hours of scouring various markets near his hotel and in surrounding areas, but he’d managed to find one. Tanner’s obsession with studying countries and their native wildlife is no secret; postcards and other trinkets constantly pouring in from Koen and Rata and some of the other guys on staff.

Tanner’s eyes widen, and he gingerly “Just for me?”

“Just for you. I told you I’d do my best to find you something. You can add that to your collection.”

“Mum!” He excitedly turns to Esme as she joins them, cradling his gift in both palms. “Look what daddy found! Look what he got me!”

“That’s awesome nugget. Daddy never disappoints, does he.”

“Never. Thank you, daddy,” Tanner curls his arms around Tyler’s neck and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I missed you. I love you.”

“I missed you too, mate. And I love you,” he places his lips against his son’s temple. “So much.”

“Why don’t you go put that inside,” Esme suggests. “In your room. So it doesn’t get broken. You can come back out to play if you want. If not, dry socks please. Your feet are probably soaked.”

“And put my boots on the mat by the door and all wet stuff in the sink in the laundry room.”

“You got it.” She playfully tugs on the braided ties dangling from his head, then taps a fingertip against the end of the nose before he rushes off. “Hey, handsome,” she greets Tyler with a brilliant smile; one that’s a testament to immense relief his return brings. “Long time no see. Already upping your ‘best daddy in the world’ game, huh?”

“Couldn’t let him down, could I?”

“You never do. How was your flight?”

“It was alright.” He shrugs his bag further up onto his shoulders and reaches up to cup the back of her head in his palm, other hand falling on the small of her back and pulling her tightly into him. Despite the enormous difference in both weight and height, their bodies have always felt perfect together; easily and effortlessly melding into one another. He’d felt it that first day; 13 years ago in that rundown hotel room in Dhaka. She had felt amazing; soft skin and curves in all the right places, body warm and responding so eagerly and willingly to his. Everything it...about her...had felt good. It had felt right. And still does.

“I missed you.” Esme says, and perches herself on her tiptoes; the soles and heels of her bare feet lifting out her Crocs as she curls her arms around his neck.

“I missed you too. You have no idea how much.”

They both feel the stress and the worry immediately lift; her body leaning into his and her eyes closing, his hand gently pressing her head into his chest, his forearm sliding just under her ass. For minutes they stand in silence simply embracing one another and enjoying the reunion; snowflakes gathering in their hair and on the shoulders of their jackets. And when she eventually pulls away, he leans down to kiss her; long and soft and slow, palm moving from the back of her head to her cheek.

Tyler glances down, a grin playing on his lips. “What’s up with that outfit?”

“It’s a long story.” She reaches up to trace her fingertips over a handful of fresh scratches and gouges mar his face and forehead. “What’s up with these?”

“Those are also a long story. We’re missing one. There’s only six spawn. What happened? Finally have enough? Is she buried in the backyard?”

“I did FINALLY crack but she’s very much alive. She went to Alannah’s last night; for a sleepover. Alannah’s mom took them out today; for lunch and a movie and to do some Christmas shopping.” Alannah is one of the many friends Millie has managed to make during their trips to New York City; the daughter of a Korean diplomat and a former Rockette.

“She’s been THAT bad?”

“Let’s put it this way; she’s lucky she’s still breathing and I’m lucky I'm still sober.”

“Yikes. Not what I wanted to hear. Guess we’ll be talking about that later.”

“It can wait. No rush. She’ll be home for dinner. I’m sure she’ll still be in a mood.”

“I’ll handle it if she is.”

“And then I’ll get blamed for turning daddy against her.”

“Well, she’s got to learn. No one disrespects my wife. Not someone we know, not a complete stranger, not my own kids.”

“Always the protective husband. You hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Tanner made some amazing soup yesterday and he insisted we save you some. And there’s fresh coffee AND the hot tub is already.”

“Best wife EVER.”

“I try. To keep my man happy.”

Smiling, he smoothes her hair away from her hair and loops errant strands behind her ears. “You do a very good job at that. And later, I’ll make YOU very happy.”

Esme grins. “Is that a promise?”

“That’s a promise.” He kisses her once more; her face cradled in both hands and her body more melting into his his.

Her smile is softer; eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and happiness. And love. There’s always love there. And he's certain there always will be.

“I missed you,” he says yet again, and leans down to place a kiss on her temple and nuzzles the tip of his nose against her ear.

Pulling back to look at him, her hand once more moves to his face. Knuckles skimming along his jaw before her palm cups his cheek, her eyes never leaving his as two of her fingertips glide over his lips. She allows the the bottom of his chin to rest in the curve between thumb and forefinger, then softly and briefly brushes her mouth against his

“Welcome home, baby,” she whispers against his lips, then takes his hand in hers and leads the way inside.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

10 notes · View notes