#Like objectively he knows he has a banging body and he’s not ugly -

[saturnsorbits]

Bakugo hits 25 and suddenly starts wondering why everyone is being so nice to him all the time… Sure, he’s not as brash as he used to be, but he’s definitely still not friendly.

He doesn’t get it. At all. Figures it must be because he’s a strong and powerful pro-hero, it’s respect thing, surely.

Imagine how taken a back he is when he finds out it’s got fuck all to do with his status, quirk or power… It’s bc he’s pretty.

[sharkrocket]

Shark… Burda but one of them is a mermaid… Mermaid AU…

OKAY me and my partner have been tossing around some ideas, and here are some of the thoughts we came up with (we are running on fairy tale logic)

Scenario where Artemy is merfolk and Daniil is a human:

Started thinking about a merfolk society that would hold the megalodon with the same reverence as the aurochs -> Shark Artemy

I know there's folklore and stories about how consuming the flesh of merfolk can either grant immortality, extend human longevity or have extraordinary healing abilities

Perhaps a certain researcher by the name of Daniil D. Dankovsky, whose goal is defeating death, is interested in these claims and goes to visit a remote fishing village that's rumored to have merfolk sightings

Do they really exist? Is it just stories? Some people claim to have seen them, some people think THOSE people have never seen a big fish before - Everyone has their own opinions about it

Has Simon eaten merfolk flesh? Is he the reason why Daniil knows about this?

A couple different things can happen at this point

One possibility: Artemy has the ability to walk on land and turn back to merfolk in contact with water but needs to return to the water after a certain amount of time before he becomes severely ill

(Maybe he's half merfolk, half human? Haven't established the details on how this would work but there's a couple of good scenarios here)

Would integrate into town society and mingle among the land people while taking note of which people posed a threat to the merfolk

He could simply warn the other merfolk of the danger, OR find the threat and eat him (thinking about this made me laugh, but it might not be the most practical or reasonable thing to do)

So when a stranger comes into town asking about merfolk and immortality, Artemy takes a VESTED interest

Introduces himself to this researcher and tries to get a feel for his intentions, and maybe fuck with him a little

"Oh yeah, I've seen merfolk before, real ugly creatures. They've got huge bug eyes, long limbs like a spider with pincers at the end and they only speak in a series of clicks and whistles interspersed in an interpretive dance" and Daniil is furiously writing all this down

But who is this handsome guy that was so adamant on introducing himself to Daniil? His skin glistens with water, his hair is dusted with flecks of dried salt, and he seems awfully knowledgeable about the sea.....

Maybe he follows Artemy around to see what his deal is, because there's something not quite right about him....

But for some reason, right when he's tails Artemy he turns a corner and the man disappears, save for a tiny ripple in the nearest body of water....

We haven't quite banged out the specifics of their relationship but there was a particularly good mental image of Daniil catching Artemy in half shark form face deep in a creature, eating its innards with blood dripping down his face and chest and Daniil just being very normal about it

This post is STUPIDLY long, more under the cut

Another possibility:

Artemy befriends this new stranger and they get closer, exchanging knowledge about their respective expertise

Eventually, after much discussion and trust built between the two, Artemy divulges details about himself, revealing he is a merfolk

Daniil's true objective isn't revealed until after Artemy has made himself known

Betrayal of some sort ensues, and trust between them is destroyed

Daniil has a difficult decision to make

Some of the potential outcomes for these scenarios:

Daniil becomes merfolk and joins Artemy to experience its wonders (not 100 percent sure how this would work, but I enjoy the possibility)

Daniil locks away Artemy and steals him away, while the ruling families ruin everything

Artemy offers flesh from his tail/fin out of love or spite and Daniil can choose to take it and leave, or stop him and tend to his injury

Daniil and Artemy fend off the ruling families, regain trust in each other and Daniil chooses to stay to continue his research

Scenario where Daniil is merfolk and Artemy is a human (sorry this one is much shorter, the details for this one were much harder to bang out 😔):

Eel Daniil.... Eelniil..... The snake imagery was too tempting, maybe one day we'll be more creative with this (oarfish was very funny to think about)

Most likely born as a merfolk in this scenario

Motivating factors: Perhaps he wants to explore the surface and the world of man and see what discoveries are to be had outside of the water (he no longer wants to dive below into the dark, he yearns to go up towards the light)

Perhaps some greater power in the sea wants Daniil dead and his best bet was to go somewhere where they couldn't follow....

Either way, his curiosity gets the better of him and he ends up getting captured (whether intentional or not)

He gets trapped in a tank either for display or waiting to be sold to the highest bidder

Artemy's work puts him in close contact with Daniil (the nature of the work is unclear, I had trouble thinking of something fitting)

In either case, the relationship between them starts off antagonistic, Artemy goes to feed Eelniil and he bites his hand and swims out of reach with a smug smirk on his face

Eventually, Daniil starts asking a lot of questions about life on land and Artemy has some questions of his own so they strike up a form of comradery

Maybe they realize they're both trapped and they start planning a way to break out and escape....

Just some loose musings we managed to come up with, hopefully you enjoyed these thinky thoughts

[tare-anime]

Yor really hates bugs and Loid knows about it.

Comedy, Slice of Life, Post Reveal (AO3)

Based on this headcanon of mine

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

After one, two, and three different occasions in the past, Twilight shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that his wife is afraid of bugs. 

Like ….. really afraid of it. 

It shouldn’t be an excuse

But after their reveal, and seeing with his own eyes how amazing and beautiful Thorn Princess dances during her work with the gracefulness of a death angel, sometimes he forgets that the infamous and deadly Garden assassin is also the same Yor Forger. 

His lovely adorable wife. 

Who obviously is afraid of bugs.

So when suddenly she jumps onto his arm and hugs his neck so tight almost to the point of choking while pointing with a trembling finger towards a spot near clumps of dead bodies during their after-mission cleaning, he should’ve known. 

But alas. 

He forgets

“Y-... Princess? You okay?”

“Pl-.... please……”

Twilight raises his brows as he carefully came closer to the spot and sees an upside-down insect trapped in the pool of blood, helplessly moving its legs.

He chuckles and moves his feet. But immediately his wife says “Don’t step on it!!”

“Huh?”

“Don’t!! Or else it will splat and its inside will-….” She gags. “And more will come….”

Again, Twilight raises his brows at this new information. 

Apparently, his wife found a squashed insect to be more disturbing than all of the other visceral scattered around their workplace. 

Noted.

“Okay. So what should I do?”

“Just, throw it away!”

“Well…. Then I should put you down somewhe-...”

“No!! Just do it quickly!! Think of something!!” she clings harder.

Twilight slack-jawed. But then he nods in determination. “Okay.”

He is Westalis’ best spy. 

If his wife demands him to remove the bug while clinging to him, he will do it perfectly. 

~~~~~~~ ********** ~~~~~~~~~

Yor is happy with her life. 

Sure during several first weeks when their secrets are out in the open, she stumbled. 

But everything was sorted out in the end.

And she cannot be happier as of late.

Especially since her husband was never shy in asking her for help during his mission. 

In other words, Yor can actively do something to make sure he came home safely, instead of just being worried and just staying at home.

Just like what she is doing right now.

While Twilight is tampering with trinkets in the other room to find all the information WISE needs, it is her job to make sure he can do his job in peace. A.k.a clean the place from guards.

She stalks toward her last customer for the day. 

The man already flops on his back and desperately moves backward, throwing anything in his vicinity toward her. 

Thorn Princess smiles politely and easily swats at the objects thrown at her. “Respectfully sir, may I have the honor of-...”

She stops when she felt something crawling on her arm.

Suddenly the world goes quiet as Thorn Princess has a good look and instantly recognizes the thing.

KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

.

Twilight’s heart drops to his stomach when he hears the shrilling voice of his wife

He stops his work immediately and runs toward her place, taking out his guns in the process.

Just right after he steps into the next room, a creature slams hard into him knocking air from his lungs, and then choking him by clinging its limbs towards his neck and waist.

It takes several milliseconds for him to recognize that the “koala-like creature” is indeed his wife.

His mind immediately registers the most probable cause of such a phenomenon. 

And his eyes immediately zoom in on the sole culprit whose face immediately loosing his ugly grin, while both hands still clutching cages that contain multiple tiny despicable creatures.

He growls. “These (BANG) dirty paws (BANG) who dare to (BANG) throw bugs towards my wife (BANG) SHOULD CEASE TO EXIST!! (BANG)” 

“I’m sorry!!!” the poor guard begs.

Twilight's face darkens. 

“No!” 

(BANG)

~~~~~~~ ********** ~~~~~~~~~

Twilight is having a bad day.

Nothing has been done perfectly today. There were always mishaps here and there, and those made him need longer time to finish those tasks.

It made him come home past dinner. 

Opening his apartment door, he is not surprised to see Yor getting up from the living room and strides toward him. 

He smiles tiredly. “I’m home.’

“Welcome home, Loid.” He sees her searching for any injuries on him while helping him with the coat. 

His smile goes wider. “I’m okay. Just tired.”

Yor nods in satisfaction. “Go have some hot water bath. I’ll reheat today’s dinner. Take outs. Don’t worry.”

Loid chuckles. “I’ll eat anything you feed me.”

Yor lightly slaps his arm. “Flatterer.”

Loid just grins and enters their bathroom

.

To Loid’s dismay, the hot water didn't elevate his mood.

There’re still unexplainable knots inside of him. 

He looks in the direction of the kitchen, the origin of smells of delicious food.

But that’s not what he wants right now.

He frowns. 

He knows what he wants, but would it be despicable if he did that?

After several seconds of contemplation, Loid then approaches his wife in the kitchen.

His wife’s face brightens when seeing him. Turning off the fire and plates the food, she says, “It will be ready in a minute.” 

“Careful Yor.”

“Hmm??”

He points to a place near her hands. “Bugs.”

Immediately Yor drops the pan and jumps into his arms. “REALLY??!!”

He holds her tighter so she stops fidgeting, and nuzzles her hair. 

The warmth and smells of faint floral slowly release the uncomfortable knots and finally, he can relax. 

~~~~~~~ ********** ~~~~~~~~~

He smiles and whispers, “Really.”

He can feel her slowly relax in his arms.

It has been raining nonstop since the early morning of the weekend. 

Lucky for Yor, no missions for both of her and Loid.

And even though they had to cancel their park outing, all of the family members were still able to spend their time at home cheerfully and peacefully.

It is nighttime. 

They already tuck Anya into her bedroom, and now it is time for their night tea routine. 

While preparing the hot water and cups, Yor glances at her husband who sits at the head of the sofa while her mind replays yesterday’s conversation between her and her coworkers at City Halls. 

The women were talking about an article in Woman magazine. About things, spouses usually do when they were trapped inside their houses during snowstorms or any other causes. 

It is not exactly a snowstorm right now, but aren’t they also ‘trapped’ inside their houses all day?

Should she also do the things being mentioned in the magazine as now they are truly a couple?

Yor can feel her face getting warm. 

She shakes her head when remembering that Loid said every couple has their own way, and they don’t need to do the same thing other couples do to be happy. 

But… but…. 

Is it wrong if she wants to-.....

“Yor? Is everything alright?” 

She squeaks and feels her face getting warmer.

Almost immediately she can hear Loid move from the living room and strides toward her. 

It’s now or never!! She nods in determination.

As soon as Loid enters the kitchen, Yor jumps toward him. And he catches her in his arms as always. 

“Yor??”

“Bu-....bugs….” She stutters as she burrows her head in the crook of his neck. 

“Where?”

Yor wrings her fingers in whatever directions in her back. “Flying…. Somewhere….” And she returns hugging her husband's neck.

After a couple of seconds, she can feel her husband’s tense body relaxing. 

She swears she can hear the smile as he whispers, “I see. That’s terrible.”

Yor can’t stop her own smile when she nods, “Yes.”

She can feel her husband hugs her tighter and says, “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

She hums in contentment. 

.

If only the two of them were out of their own bubble, they should be able to hear a little girl’s groan, a dog’s whimper, and a door closing with unnecessary force.

~~~~~~~ ********** ~~~~~~~~~

Bonus: 

Anya slams the bundle of newspaper towards a bug in her school table while grumbling, “Disgusting!”

Becky squeals in awe, “Indeed they are! You’re so brave, Anya.” and then she adds, “But do you really need to kill them like that?”

Anya nods. “Yes. I should. They are DISGUSTING!”

Becky nods and takes note that Anya really hates bugs. 

Unfortunately, Anya never plans to reveal the real reason behind her hatred toward bugs, because she knows full well what her best friend will do if she finds out. 

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

Anya is maybe a little bit older? Pre-teen?

But seriously these two dorks, I swear….. XD

[offense-is-the-best-defence]

The punch landed with a crack & sent the devil flying, his body bounced across the dry earth before ending face first in the dirt. Several onlookers cheered while 2 others dragged the unsuccessful challenger away. 

From their small camp on the escarpment Karlach had watched the fight & had almost clapped at the performance before stopping herself. The camp below was large & sprawled along the Styx like a snake & was filled with devils & imps. It would not be good if either of them were discovered. 

‘Are they still going at it?’ asked Wyll, sitting beside Karlach. 

‘If you mean fighting, then yes.’ she replied. ‘The big fella’s beat everyone so far.’ 

Wyll leaned forward, trying to get a better look. 

‘What’s he waving about? Looks like a trophy.’ 

Karlach went to the edge of the escarpment, narrowing her eyes. The devil held a small dark object attached to a chain & was roaring in victory. A flash of red glinted off the object & the tiefling frowned. 

‘I need a closer look.’ 

‘Karlach, hold on!’ Wyll grabbed his friend’s shoulder & handed her the spyglass. ‘Use this.’ 

Karlach nodded & laughed sheepishly. 

The image was blurred for a moment until she adjusted the lense. The devil was still celebrating his victory, waving his trophy. The object was black & curled, an infernal script that Karlach knew all too well, ran along it’s length. 

‘That’s my horn.’ she said softly. ‘He’s got my fucking horn!’ 

‘That brute is the one who broke your horn?’ 

‘What? No. She was a prettier devil than that one.’ replied Karlach, picking up her axe. 

Wyll looked at his friend curiously. ‘How exactly did you lose your horn?’ 

‘Ambush. Her mates weren’t much of a challenge, but she was.’ she replied. ‘Lost my focus for a moment & bang! My horn was gone.’ 

‘Lost your focus?’ 

‘She was a good fighter, real quick. Took everything i had to keep up with her.’ she replied & folded her arms. ‘Now you’ve had storytime, are you gonna help me get my horn back?’ 

‘It’s that important to you?’ he asked, glancing at the camp. 

‘Yes.’ Karlach shook her head. ‘No.’ 

At the time it hadn’t been important, she had just been trying to survive. The tiefling had counted herself lucky that it had only been her horn. Her opponent had made the mistake of gloating after her aforementioned lapse of focus. Karlach had cut her legs from under her & taken her head. 

But seeing this preening idiot parading around with a part of her as if it as some prize incensed her in a way that few things had before. 

‘This place has taken a lot from me. My life, my family, my friends.’ Karlach hefted her greataxe. ‘It’s not taking this.’ 

Wyll nodded in sympathy. 

‘Karlach?’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Your on fire.’ 

‘I know.’ 

Karlach & Wyll pushed passed the devils & imps without pause or comment, thanks to the warlock’s spell of invisibility. 

The champion looked confused as the pair appeared before him, his face grew concerned as Wyll created a ring of fire around them. 

‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘Are you suicidal, to invaded the camp of Zariel?’ 

‘That’s my horn. I want it back.’ said Karlach, hefting her axe. 

‘This trinket?’ the devil laughed. ‘I took this from the Fury herself & it belongs to me.’ 

‘No you didn’t. She was a lot less ugly than you.’ said Karlach, she dodged to the side as the greatsword the devil wielded crashed into the ground. ‘And a lot quicker.’ 

Karlach swung her axe, severing the devil’s arm. Reversing the stroke, the axe bit deeply into his torso. The devil staggered backwards, trying to wrench the axe from his stomach. The tiefling planted a foot on his chest, causing the devil to fall on his back & pulling the axe free.  

Blood poured from the wound like a river & the devil cried in pain. 

‘I am Karlach, Fury of Avernus.’ She roared, plucking her horn from the dying devil’s hand. ‘Challenge me if you dare.’ 

[candymay]

The one thing I disagree with about charmie besides the entire ship (lol) is when people slag Kylie and compare her to Liz.

Kylie's body is banging. Liz is genuinely ugly in the face. And I thought this before she colluded with a woman who lied about SA to ruin her ex partner's career. Like truly ugly in the face. And I know kylie overdid the fillers in the face but even with that Kylie's body is objectively insanely sexy. Liz wishes he had any sex appeal. It's partly why Armie fucked half of America while still married.

A turd has more sex appeal than Elizabeth Chambers. So Charmie needs to come correct on that one thing about Jenner.

Liz looks like Caitlyn Jenner in the face. The irony of it all.

No idea people are comparing kylie to liz so I have zero context. personally never liked or cared about kylie enough to even have her on my radar n im perfectly okay with that lol.

full assumption but I think most ppl in the fandom r straight women and gay guys, so it's only understandable they don't find her body 'banging'. and when you look like every other girl in LA, the body's not exactly special IMO..........................

but if that's the case, I agree with you—I wouldn't lump everyone with bad face work into one category. for one, I think kylie's driven by insecurities and hedonistic hyperconsumption n its all fun n games n whateva, while Liz is an ignorant narcissist in dire need of professional help lol. but i'm pretty sure the problem isn't with their bodies. it's what these two women represent or blah blah. not for me at least. no hate for kylie. i do think her body yody is banging. i just literally couldnt care less even if i tried

[secondhand-trash]

Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

-

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look. 

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane. 

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago. 

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you. 

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer. 

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

[selinakidreams]

here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup. 

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out. 

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar. 

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party. 

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar. 

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets. 

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.” 

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out. 

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party  for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you. 

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense. 

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything. 

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.`` 

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent. 

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both.  When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice. 

Handsome would be an understatement. 

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness. 

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you. 

“You comin’?” 

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together. 

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction. 

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail. 

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer. 

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict. 

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm. 

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could. 

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty. 

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused. 

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.” 

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night. 

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back. 

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong. 

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers. 

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you. 

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry. 

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?” 

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand. 

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.” 

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped. 

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside. 

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now. 

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head. 

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.  

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

 “You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.” 

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something... 

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured  a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”,  before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist. 

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices. 

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand. 

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face. 

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct. 

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing. 

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue. 

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl…  Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

[cabinofimagines]

can i request a poly! lercy fic where percy doesn't know(or completely forgets) that aluminum foil shouldn't go in the microwave, y/n doesn't pay any mind to it cause they don't realize it's not supposed to be microwaved, and then all hell breaks loose, so leo comes home to a basically melted microwave and percy & y/n rubbing burn cream on each other while they're murmuring stuff like 'why does it hurt so much!' 'you'd think with leo, we'd be used to it by now.' thank you!

Everyone SHUT UP I have to give you some Leo appreciation after the angsty shit Asja wrote -Danny

Sleep Deprived —(Poly!Lercy xGN!reader)

“I’m so tired I just want to fall flat on the bed and sleep for the next week,” Percy grumbles beside you.

It was the end of the semester of your first year in college, both of you were basically dead inside with the amount of nights spent finishing assignments and studying for tests. 

You’re focused on finishing your bowl of cereal while Percy opens a box of something, you weren’t paying enough attention to see what he was about to put in the microwave.

“I can’t remember the last time I actually felt well rested,” You mumble. 

“Makes you wonder how Leo can keep up with his schedule without fallin apart, huh?” The soft sound of the microwaves’ buttons accompany his comment.

“Probably his ADHD, I don’t understand why you’re falling apart though,” You raise a brow.

“Well, I’m not a son of Hephaestus—”

“Which is great, otherwise you and Leo dating would be gross as fuck—”

“So probably my brain function on a different level than Leo’s...”

“Everyone’s brain works on a different level than Leo’s,” You yawn. “He’s so freaking smart—that bastard.”

Percy presses the start button, almost immediately something starts hissing inside the machine and a loud bang sends you out of your chair. When you stand up the microwave is in flames and Percy has a very ugly burn on his arm.

“What the fuck—!”

You circle the counter and look around for the fire extinguiser, once you find it you push Percy out of the way and unlock the tool, showering the machine with its white substance.

“What the hell did you put in there, Percy?” You ask in shock.

“I-It was a burrito! You know, from the ones Leo bought yesterday?”

“Did you make sure to take off the foil before putting it in there?”

Percy blinks, he lowers his gaze to the messed up microwave and a grimace quickly forms on his features. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I wasn’t paying attention...”

“Don’t apologize, you’re the one who got hurt!” You shake your head. “Where’s the ointment?”

“Gotta be under the sink,” Percy hisses when trying to touch his burned arm. “You know, it’s sort of insulting, as the son of Poseidon, to get burned by an inanimated object that I own.”

The front door swungs open to reveal one happy Leo Valdez, he’s humming whatever song he’s listening through his earphones, he hasn’t noticed the mess in the kitchen since his back is turned to his boyfriend but the smell is so strong he notices after five seconds.

“Hey, what are you cooking?” He scrunches up his nose. “Guys?”

Leo sees Percy’s injured arm and he messily drops his backpack on the entrance before rushing over to him.

“What happened?” He looks at the kitchen and his frown deepens. “Did you fight with our microwave?”

“I put a burriton in it without taking the stupid foil,” Percy groans.

You walk into the room once more holding a small tube of ointment. 

“Don’t move, I’ve got you—Oh, hi Leo!”

You kiss him shortly before starting to rub the cream on Percy’s forearm. 

“How was work?”

“Fun. But not as crazy as whatever the hell just happened in here five minutes ago,” He leans back against the counter. “Do I have to set up cameras inside the house to make sure you don’t kill yourselves on accident? This is like the third fire you guys start this week!”

“We’re just a little tired.”

“A little?” Leo asks teasingly.

“You should be kissing the pain away from my body instead of making fun of us!” Percy demands. “If you got no useful advice then please leave the room so Y/N can take care of me.”

“You’re a spoiled child,” You reply, although your tone is sweet.

“Hey, I never said that!” Leo pouts, he quickly pushes you aside playfully and plants a firm kiss on Percy’s lips. 

The older boy smirks against Leo’s mouth and happily reciprocates. You finish your work on Percy’s arm and put the ointment away, looking at the microwave with a tired expression.

“First the coffee maker, now this,” You sigh. “We have no money to buy a new one, what are we going to do?”

“I could ask my dad to build us one,” Leo offers, he moves away from Percy and ignores his complaint. 

“Isn’t he busy with—dunno, God stuff?”

“I’m sure it’ll take him like five minutes to make one, and I bet it’ll be cooler than any of those mortal versions.”

“Okay, you sure can try to convince him,” You snort. “In the meantime, we should keep Percy away from the kitchen until he finishes finals week.”

“I would fight against it, but I honestly don’t trust myself now,” Percy replies, his weariness slowly coming back to his body. “I’m still hungry though...”

“Oh, I brought you doughnuts!” Leo grins. “They’re in my backpack, you can take the bag if you want.”

“I love you so much,” Percy sighs in bliss, standing up and walking directly to the backack Leo has abandoned at the front door.

“Love you too,” Leo beams, his head turns to the side as he sees you clean the mess your boyfriend caused without meaning to. “And we also love you, Y/N. Thank you for looking after Mr Trainwreck.”

“It’s my pleasure,” You grin.

Leo opens his arms and silently waits for you to get closer, you don’t keep him waiting for long.

Taglist.

@beneaththeiceandsnow @lovinghufflepuffgirl @diaphragmjellyfish 

[forcebewitht]

The Loving Curse Of A Wicked, Beautiful Queen Of Mean (Overblot!Vil Schoenheit X Reader)

(Fanart Link: https://twitter.com/mtzk00/status/1349799061218488322?s=19)

A sigh was all too quick to escape your lips as you observed the spectacle that was going on. You had been receiving bad vibes from Vil here and there for quite a bit now- and it was finally time. You just knew. Grim and yourself decided to hide behind a corner to spy on Vil. His body was honestly rather rigid...yet loose as he walked. Like a doll that had learned to walk and was preparing to swing out a long, thin arm at any moment. Vil delivered some swift knocks to Neige's door within the hallway of the backstage area of the arena currently being used for the VDC. You were quick to shush Grim and peer around the corner. Vil's expression was…void. Utterly barren of any and all emotion, as though the great star was finally beginning to dim out. Neige soon opened the door, and an exchange between the two was given. Vil had tried giving Neige some apple juice as a "gift"....that is, until Rook strided in on the scene. The sound of Rook calling Neige's name down the hall sent a shock through Grim, Vil, and even Neige himself. You noted that Vil's eyes grew a bit too large, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. "NEIGE!" Rook was quick to stride over. The gentle, sweet boy named Neige soon turned his head to Rook as he walked over. Rook smiled a bit at Neige as he approached, a faint dazzle being seen in his eyes simply by looking at the boy. "I am sorry to disturb you. One of the staff members is looking for you- they wished to ask you something about the performance. Roi Du Neige….-ah. I mean Neige." Neige peered curiously at Rook. He allowed his head to angle to the side, his skin as pale and precious as snow and his hair as black as the night sky itself. "Roi Du….the way you speak…..are you, perhaps…?" Rook suddenly was very quick to exclaim after Neige's odd observation. "A-AH! I apologize, I just simply am so thirsty after searching for you for such a long time! Ah…but that apple juice you are holding looks delicious. Care to help me out a bit and give it to me, Ro- ahem. Neige? Please?" Neige blinked numerous times, already handing the juice over as humbly asked. "Y-yes, of course! Not a problem at all! Here you go." You notice Vil's posture go even more rigid at the sight of this event. His eyes grew just a bit larger, and you could have sworn that you heard a suppressed grunt. Your eyebrows furrow. He…..he looked like a schemer who had just been caught...nay….a murderer who had just been caught in the act.

Rook beamed out a dazzling smile to Neige, now continuing on with the juice bottle in his gloved hands. "Ah….thank you, Neige. Now, run along to the stage. And….don't come back again." The sudden shift in Rook's tone took you a bit off guard, now watching him a bit more closely. Neige seemed just as confused, for he bats his eyelashes faintly, his already precious, large doe-like eyes widening just a bit. "...Eh? What do you m-mean by that…" After Neige's delayed question, Rook's body seemed to seize up. He suddenly shouted a bit right at the boy, and you could see his eyebrows furrowing under his bangs. "GO, NOW- HURRY UP!" Neige was quick to listen to the instructions and take off in a sudden sprint. Vil's eyes were locked on Neige as he ran away, now slowly fluttering over to Rook. His lavender eyes squint at his Vice Dorm Leader, the star seeming to back up a bit. "Rook….why…" The Vice, however, did not listen. He seemed to be sniffing the bottle's contents with a content smile, his emerald eyes shutting promptly. "Mmmmm~....what a fresh scent. I simply smelled this alluring beverage for a mere moment, and a delicious, prime, red apple just appeared within my very mind. This product from Epel's hometown is really wonderful!" Rook's eyes soon snapped open, the Vice locking eyes with Vil. He seemed to smile, but a dim in his eyes was evident as well. His tone suddenly became more dry yet heightened, as though a mere zombie under the whims and gaze of the Schoenheit male. "I'll drink all of this without sparing a single drop….Roi Du Poison…" Rook began to tilt the bottle up to his lips. Vil seemed to panic, his eyes widening even more as he rose a hand and backed up some more. You and Grim almost ran out, yet the voice of another stopped you both in your tracks- it was Kalim! "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOK! STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPP- NO!" The leader of the Scarabia Dorm suddenly dashed over to Rook with an intense speed. His hand flew out and was quick to smack the bottle out of Rook's hand entirely. The contents splashed onto the nearby wall. Rook backed up in shock, now locking his confused gaze onto Kalim. "Roi D'or?! What are you doing here?! Wait...Grim and [Y/n] are here, too!" You and Grim ran over and stopped before the small group. Grim was the first one to speak, his bright blue eyes widened. "Kalim, did you just smack that bottle that Rook was holding?! Why?!" You were quick to fold your arms over your chest and straighten, staring at Kalim's freakishly serious expression. "He would not have done so without a good reason." Kalim was currently out of breath, gasping for air. "Ah...haaaa…..I made it in time!" Vil's eyes widened evermore, now taking yet another step back. "What….are you….doing…?" Suddenly, an odd squelching sound was heard from the wall where the juice had shattered and splashed. The contents of the juice began to both darken and thicken considerably, the juice itself now a deep, sickly green shade. Your eyes widened as you almost immediately were able to lock onto what was going on thanks to your dreams- it was poison! Grim soon expressed his concerns with the juice's appearance while Kalim turned his head to Vil. Even still, the normally bright boy looked utterly serious. "...Vil. This is the juice that you put a curse on with your Unique Magic, right? I had a bad sensation that something was going to happen concerning you….when I saw your expression whilst watching Neige's rehearsal performance." Kalim's voice deepened a bit, now allowing his eyes to faintly squint at Vil from his current position. "....It is the same expression Jamil had on his face before he Overblotted during the holidays." You turn your head to look at Vil- and freeze. He had locked his gaze right back onto Kalim...there it was again. A bone-chilling, void, utterly vicious stare. His body seemed stiff as his arms rested at his sides. He didn't even look to be breathing, a shadow now being cast over his eyes. This soon changed slightly as he turned his head to Rook. "....Rook. Why did you want to drink the juice? You should know better than anyone….that you would not have remained alive if you drank it." You and Grim shared a worried look- so he was going to murder Neige! Rook blinked a few times at the question, soon giving his answer with the utmost confidence and grace. "I wanted to believe you. The star that has been shining and streaking so far across the sky to reach the top. I believed that you would never commit such a crime and hinder your precious beauty...but. At the same time, if your precious magic and hands had crafted such a wicked tool of vengeance to smite your opponent...I wished to taste it only once. The taste of your poisonous fruits of your obsession for beauty!" Vil backed up a bit more, the sweat running down his forehead once more. Kalim was quick to retort, now worried himself. "What are you talking about, Rook?! I will not let that happen! Hey, Vil! Do you understand how stupid your actions were?! Let's show the other team a performance that will make them feel like worthless potatoes in a sack...Didn't you say we have to win the contest with our show-stopping performance?! Why?! Why would you try to kill Neige just to succeed?!" Vil's expression had shifted back to the blank one as Kalim spoke. Suddenly, upon the last few lines, he began to chuckle. "Heh...heheh…I wish to know the answers myself. But...I have come to realize….THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO WIN AGAINST HIM! That's w-why I...i wanted to end his life...by my own hands!" Vil's voice trembled and shook with raw power and rage as he boomed out his reply throughout the halls. You gasped as you felt a sudden, odd shift in the air. The poisonous juice upon the ground was beginning to shift into a deeply purple appearance, now. A smoke began to build up from it, already beginning to restrict the proper patterns of breathing from the members of your little team. Kalim began to cough, closing his eyes as Rook warned everyone not to inhale it. "[Y/n], Kalim, Grim! Do not inhale it! This is Vil's Unique Magic- Fairest One Of All! He can put a curse onto any object. That poisonous juice has now been transformed into this restricting mist! If we breathe in a certain amount, our bodies will become paralyzed within an instant! But….one bottle of this could not have turned into this mess….unless….no!" Vil began to back up even more. His eyes widened, tears pricking at his eyes. "D-don't look at me like t-that...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Why….I wanted to become the most beautiful being in the world...but...why am I so...ugly...ugly….UGLY!"

Rook and Kalim began to jump to Vil's defense and say that he didn't kill anyone...but you could already feel the truth of what he was feeling. Vil had acted….like a villain. He was going to murder someone just like one. Your expression was quick to morph into one of raw pity, now watching Vil with a worried expression. He looked so panicked. Like a little boy who had lost his mother within a candy store, or a deer caught in headlights. The male's voice suddenly trembled at Kalim's declaration and boomed out again. "SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME?!" Your group began to panic, now watching the juice bubble and fizz into more mist. Vil let out a bone-chilling, deeply crazed laugh of triumph at the sheer fear. "AHAHAHAHAHHA! T-that's right! That's what I want! If everyone else around me becomes ugly….finally...finally….I CAN BECOME THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!" The air around Vil began to shift. He beamed out a devilish smile. You stumbled backwards- and that was your mistake. Vil's head was quick to whip over to you and lock on. His eyes dazzled as he stared at you. Oh, [Y/n]. Sweet, sweet little [Y/n]. He had to admit, he actually had so deeply wished to allow you to be on his team and not be shunned to the sidelines with that pest of a monster. And yet, you counted as one student. Thus, if he let you in, Grim would have to come along with you. Oh, how he despised that little rule. Vil got a good look at you, his head tilting to the side. My, my...even with that fear, the darling had a certain grace about them that was almost too rich for Vil to ignore. His lips perked up into an even bigger grin. He began to stalk forward, you feeling your legs begin to shake from the sheer intensity of his stare. And just like that...the boy began to sing out a declaration of his own. "I'm so tired of pretending….where's my happy ending? I followed all the rules, I drew inside the lines...I never asked for anything that wasn't mine. I waited patiently for my time...but when it finally came….they called his name. And now, I feel this overwhelming pain! I mean, it's in my veins! I mean, it's in my brain! My thoughts are running in a circle like a toy train...I'm kind of like a perfect picture with a broken frame...and I know exactly who to blame." Vil began to stalk towards you, stepping over his own juice as Kalim and Rook began to cough even further. They began to attempt to fire spells at him to keep him back, but it was useless. He was utterly transfixed on you, now. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought I'd be like the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? Then I shall be the leader of the dark and the bad….now there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be….and they're calling me the Queen.." You began to backtrack a bit further. Vil was quick to  suddenly grab you by the arm, now slowly dragging you towards him. You fought and struggled against his vice grip, your eyes wide in confusion and sheer panic. Grim got riled up and began firing more fire spells- but Vil's mist seemed to dissipate most of them. Vil smiled down at you with a bright grin that could make even the toughest of people's blood run cold. "Being nice was my pastime...but I've been hurt for the last time...and I won't ever let another person take advantage of me- the anger burns my skin, third degree. Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea! There's nobody getting close to me! They're gonna bow to their Evil Queen! Their nightmares are my dreams! Just wait until they fall to my wicked schemes~" Right as Vil had gone to caress your cheek, you were able to jerk yourself from his grip. You stumbled back into the wall, now slowly backing up with the still sputtering Kalim, Grim, and Rook. Vil just smiled even brighter. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought that I'd be the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? I would be the leader of the dark and the bad. Now, there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me...the Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean!" Vil's head suddenly snapped over to the shattered apple juice bottle, as though he heard a voice. He slowly bent down and picked up a shard that had an apple on the front of it with part of Epel's family name. "The Queen of Mean…." His head slowly craned up, that blank stare back once more. Then, his lavender gaze trailed back to you. He slowly began to stalk forward once more, his head tilting. "Something is pulling me….it's so magnetic. My body is moving...unsure of where I am headed...all of my senses have left me defenseless...this darkness around me is promising vengeance. The price that I'm willing to pay is expensive- there's nothing to lose when you're ugly and friendless. So...my only interest...is showing that 'princess'...THAT I AM THE QUEEN AND MY REIGN WILL BE ENDLESS!"

The mist whipped around your group and knocked Kalim, Rook, and Grim back into the nearby wall. The poisonous substance along with some ink whipped around Vil's form. You gasped, watching the transformation take place. Vil had now Overblotted. He beamed out an even larger smile than before, raising his hands which displayed long, flowing, dark pieces of fabric that attached to the rest of his form. His right eye erupted in a deep purple, fiery glow, a veil upon his head. He looked...wickedly beautiful. Vil's hands raised as his eyes widened, the sheer power that was now coming off of him in waves utterly taking your breath away. "I WANT WHAT I DESERVE! I WANT TO RULE THE WORLD! SIT BACK AND WATCH THEM LEARN! IT'S FINALLY MY TURN!" Suddenly, the whipping of a carpet's tassels in the wind combated with a shouting voice cut through the air- it was Jamil! "EVERYONE, QUICKLY, HOP ON!" Kalim's gaze lit up at his Vice Dorm Head, and he did not hesitate to get on. Rook followed, then Grim. Right when you were about to join- a hand with sharp, claw-like nails curled around your top and yanked you back a bit. Vil made extra careful care with you to ensure that you did not puncture yourself upon the oddly sharp, jagged knive-like belt around his waist. The others began to cry out to you, but you soon locked eyes with Jamil. The boy stiffened, taking heed in your current gaze...and he understood. He was quick to get the flying carpet out of there. You were far more cunning than you looked. You could handle this. Vil seemed to laugh in his triumph, now allowing his hands to trail down your waist and watch the group go... they could wait. "If they want a villain for a queen...I'm gonna be one like they've never seen. I'll SHOW THEM WHAT IT MEANS! HAHA! Now that I am that! I shall be the ruler of the dark and the bad…'cause the devil's on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me~" Vil pulled you even closer to him, gently arching your back a bit so that you would not injure yourself upon the belt on his form. He began to trail kisses along your neck in a sickly sweet manner, taking his prize for his wickedness. He chuckled at the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, keeping the motions up. Soon, Vil gently pulled away and spun you around to face him. You felt as though you could shrink under that gaze. "The Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean…..I WANT WHAT I DESERVE!" Vil's lips suddenly smashed upon your own as he yanked you closer to him. Right as he did so, a crackle of lightning seemed to rumble and shake the grounds of the very stadium, a sudden burst of that mist shooting out past the two of you. Your eyes widened as he kissed your lips, his lips irresistibly smooth, soft, and plump. And funny enough...his lips tasted like apples. Perhaps this was his own, personal poison...the loving curse of a wicked, beautiful queen of mean.

((Hello hello, my lovely Readers! The day has finally arrived, as this fanfiction has! Rook, Kalim, Neige, and Vil were honestly a welcome surprise to write for! I hope everyone enjoyed this, and I shall see you in the next one~ <3

[ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime]

Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 6

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

———————————————

Chapter 6: Encounter

The crescent moon shining on the equator moves and brings darkness to the world of "U". In the city of "U" that continues like a big river, Az and others were overflowing more than usual today. There is a mysterious feeling of exhilaration here and there, and it seems that everyone is restless. Countless net news is broadcast in various languages. "... Soon, at 20:25 standard time on 'U', Belle's biggest live concert will take place here at 'U's spherical stadium."

The city of "U" is basically a "skyscraper" and a "park."

It consists of repeating two types of modules, "(Park)". However, there are some other special modules. One of them is a spherical module called "Stadium". "..... The number of Az that can watch at the same time in the world is said to be 100 million or 200 million, which is unusual for a newcomer who appeared within 6 months ..."

As you approach the spherical stadium, you can see that many small units are gathered together to form a sphere. It passes through the gaps of each unit and enters the inside. Each unit has multiple windows. The shape of the window matches the shape of the screen of the smartphone, and you can see Az in it. That is the audience seat of this spherical stadium.

A myriad of Az are waiting for the start of the live. The start time has come. The space of the wide sphere gradually darkens with the driving sound. The units are getting closer to each other and the gap is narrowing. Eventually, a roaring sound was heard. The gap between the units was completely closed, and the space was surrounded by darkness. A red line like the equator emerges in the darkness. It's the beginning of the live. Music starts. A huge drop of water can be seen floating in the center of the space. In front of this mysterious sight, the audience grabbed a sight of what was about to begin.

The huge water droplets began to emit light from the inside, shaking the surface with surface tension. A number of glittering lights are generated and are stored in water droplets. Eventually, the water droplets filled with light burst like a big bang. When a large amount of droplets diffuse into the space, a mysterious object that reflects light appears behind it. A huge splash with a dozen meters, assembled from delicate beads.

At the tip of the dress is Belle, me.

"Woooooooooo ...!"

The cheers of Az and others like the rumbling of the ground boiled up. Mosaic-like light is emitted from the countless windows of the audience seats. In response to the light, the color of the beads that make up the dress changes in a complex way. These are special beads whose brilliance changes depending on the light. It's the best outfit, coordinated by the best designers, from headdresses to high heels. I swam in the space, changing to various colors in response to the light. The parts of the huge dress are separated like a multi-stage rocket. In the meantime, it will be separated. The beads swirled like the swell of the sea, transforming into a virtual fluctuation of the sea surface.

Three whales with headphones appear there and slowly snuggle up to me in the center. The whales are top-notch dancers hired for this concert. When one of the whales hits the surface of the sea with its tail fin to the music, a beautiful wave appears. The crest has spread. Another one also hits the surface of the sea. The ripples overlapped. The other one blew up the tide from his nose. Next is my turn. Like the whale I mentioned earlier, I surrendered myself to music, twisted my body, and hit the surface of the sea. Ripples spread beautifully. I twist my body again and hit the surface of the sea, ripples piled up. And, like the squirting of a baby whale, I rushed out of the sea. The whales come in again and swim and dance in the calculated combination. I sing at the center. The sparkling flash of the audience seats reaches the dress, changing the color of the beads one after another. What a beauty. The colors that would never appear without each of the light from the windows of smartphones are a collaboration between me, the designer, and the audience. And again, it's a one-time art that can never be reproduced in the digital world where reproduction is natural. I finished singing proudly.

"Ooooooooooooooooo!"

The roaring cheers of Az and others shook the spherical stadium. The flashes in the audience seats disappear all at once, returning to the darkness of the equator. The prelude of the second song begins, and the next set of graphical steel frames slides from above and below. During the blackout, the producer of this live, Hiro-chan’s Az, slipped in.

"Belle is the best. I'll go next."

"Yes."

Hiro-chan’s Az threw a piece of cloth in her hand. It fluttered around my body and turned into a patchwork dress. This is also the work of the same designer as the bead dress, and is woven with fibers that change when exposed to light. Suddenly, there was a strange noise.

"ah…"

The gap between the rugged stadium and the spherical stadium opens a little.

"Who? You opened the door without permission!" Hiro-chan’s Az yells.

Someone invaded through a small gap in the unit. A lone Az at the beginning.

And then a group of Az. They are moving at high speed just past the audience unit. I can tell that the audience in the window is upset by this happening.

Hiro-chan’s Az is very angry. "Get out of here, asshole!”

The lone Az appears to be escaping from the group chasing him.

"Is he being chased?"

They go around the perimeter along the equator of the spherical stadium. The group of chasers was divided into two.

"Jeeze! What is that guy?" Hiro-chan’s Az looks up in the air and asks. Avatars all over the world instantly raise chat balloons:

《Dreki》

《Long》 《continuar》 《naga》 《Dragon》 《lass》

《Ejderha》

"Dragon?"

<<It's an ugly monster-type Az that lives in “U.”>>

Two protruding horns. Long nose. Sharp fangs and claws. The characteristic is exactly the dragon itself, and the impression is like a violent beast. Still, the crimson cloak with a raised collar and the white frills peeking through the sleeves of the suit reminded me of something like a nobleman. A mysterious balance in which this opposite nature coexists. The thin, sharp look that I could see in the gaps between his long, curly hair seemed mysterious to me. On the other hand, all his chasers have the unified appearance of a white battle suit with a red line. It looks like a group of justice heroes. The dragon flipped the cloak and I thought that he had soared, but then he twisted and plummeted. With a tricky move, he tossed the chase and swung it off in a blink of an eye, and this time he headed for the other group, which was split into two. Really. The stone mask Az, who leads the fist chaser group, thrusts in without fear. The two collided violently at the front. A fierce spark is scattered. The dragon extended his fist at a speed that my eyes couldn't follow. The chasers flew like pebbles. As it was, it emitted light like glitter and ice crystals, and stopped moving. The data was corrupted by too much blow and it froze.

I watched the dragon in a daze.

"Amazing…"

"What is he?" When Hiro-chan’s Az asked, the balloons answered immediately.

<<A few months ago, he suddenly appeared in the martial arts hall of "U" "He’s been breaking the record of consecutive wins since then" "But he has the worst fighting style">>

"How?"

When Ryu landed on the unit on the wall and turned around, he attacked the other group that he had just shaken off. He does not give them a chance to escape, and defeats them one after another with a quick move. Iconography of crystals, showing freezes, floats here and there.

《Spoil the game》 《Attack until the data is corrupted and unusable》 《It's like trying to get rid of my anger》 I was stunned and stared at the dragon without words.

"Ah..”

I noticed a lot of patterns on his tattered back.

"That is……?"

<< This is a nasty guy who is like the bruises on his back >> Adds a balloon. I saw it to make sure.

"There are so many bruises ..."

The group of chasers is increasing in number before I know it. When the Az of the dreadlocks led by him points to go, more than 10 members scream and head for Dragon all at once. It is one versus ten, but he heads for the fight without hesitation. The dragon rolled out his knife at a blazing speed. The chasers are beaten one after another.

"Waaaaaah!”

Even the last one - bang, smashed down in a breath. The dreadlocks Az was shocked to see that his allies were wiped out in an instant. While making a strange voice, "Woooooo!", He headed for the dragon in the dark clouds. However, immediately after that, Dragon knee-kicked him in the face. Then the upper combo is decided. The dreadlocks Az was blown off.

Hiro-chan’s Az listens with interest. "Who is chasing him?"

《The Justices》

"Justice?"

<<They insist on keeping the justice and order of U.>>

There are Az looking down from a distance. Like the Stone Mask Az and Dreadlocks Az, they were the executives of the Justice Corps. They are strong people who seem to be allies of justice. Half are female. Hiro-chan’s Az made a convincing voice when she saw them.

"Hmm. That's why they look like heroes."

A large number of the justice corps surround the dragon with various weapons such as spears, hammers, and blue swords. The members screamed and attacked all at once. It seems that there is no chance for the dragon to win. The dragon slowly crossed his hands. And he slashed the space at a tremendous speed. He slashed the men as if he were really manipulating a sword. A dense army corps bursts out all at once. "Waaaah!”

At the same time, it gave off a glittering and crystal-like light. The overwhelming strength of the crowd is breathtaking. The dragon turned his back and slowly got up. Justice corps executives were stunned and said, "What a terrible thing ...!"

"What can they do if you hurt them that much?"

"Is it okay that you’re the only one who is not wounded?” With that as a trigger, some spectator Az and others booed.

"That's right!" "You messed up Belle's concert!" "How will you take responsibility?” The voices eventually spread throughout the spherical stadium.

"Apologize to Belle!" "Give us back the time you wasted!" "Get out of here!" "Get out!" I looked around the stadium in a kind of strange atmosphere. Most of the Az on the spot are throwing a fierce boo like a rumbling at just one person. A dragon standing alone in the center. The bruise on his back seemed to me like a wound that had been hit by countless boos. I asked him unintentionally.

"You…"

The dragon turned around slowly and looked at me with a keen eye.

[............]

"Who are you..…?"

I asked unquestioned questions at will. Then the dragon opened his mouth for the first time. It was a muffled voice, like a filter.

"...Don’t look.”

"Huh?"

"Don’t look at me."

The dragon's gaze peeking through his curly hair indicates refusal. I can't hear any more.

At that time, there was a sharp voice that echoed in the spherical stadium.

“Dragon!!”

A man is standing. "I can't forgive you anymore ... I can't forgive you! If I don't defeat the dragon, I can't keep the peace of 'U'!"

"Is that the leader?" Asked Hiro-chan’s Az.

<<Yes. He is Justine>>

It was a blue-eyed Az with blonde hair. His toned, muscular, majestic body reminded me of strength and courage, and the white battle suit that wrapped around him represented his noble personality. He deserves to be called a hero, a mighty man, an ally of justice, a savior.

Justine raised his right arm and pointed to the coat of arms on his wrist. "Look!"

The Metamorphose coat of arms was wrapped in light and became huge, transforming into a winged metal lion head. A jewel-like lens body pops out from the lion's mouth by bolt action. It's like a cannon. Justine raises the gun and shows it off.

"This is the true light that protects the justice and order of 'U'! We will definitely unveil the evil dragon!" He declared in a voice that pervaded the entire "U". Then, banners with the names of the companies came flying one after another and piled up behind him. It seems that these supporting companies support his activities. Hiro-chan’s Az pointed with her eyes rounded.

"Look, the number of sponsor logos!"

"What is Unveil?"

To my question, Hiro-chan’s Az answered "Unveil" with the gesture of Peek-a-boo. Justine holds his right hand to aim at him, and the inside of his lens body shimmers like a mosaic. The particles focused and emitted a green light. Pow! The light cut through the darkness and headed straight toward the dragon. The dragon barely avoids the light. The particles focused again on Justine's right hand and fired two shots in quick succession. The dragon kept a sufficient distance and avoided it carefully. It seems that he is very cautious about this unknown light. "Nuu ..." Justin groaned, lowering his right hand. A long, thin light that moves far away. There is too much distance to hit Dragon.

He signaled, "Door!" In response, the justice executives scattered in all directions. Soon, the gap between the unit and the unit begins to move, and the interval narrows.

"Eh ...?" As it goes on, the brightness disappears. The spherical stadium was engulfed in darkness, with a completely closed sound. Many searchlights owned by the executives turned on all at once. It illuminates a dragon at one point in the center of intersection.

"You can't run away anymore, dragon! I'll uncover your origin right here, you ugly thing!"

Justine's speech wowed the audience.

"Ooooooooooo!"

The field is in full favor of Justine. Hiro-chan’s Az also goes along.

"Good, do it ~~!"

Origin? Uncover? Can he do that? I wondered. Justine said earlier, "The true light that protects the justice and order of 'U'(that green light) will surely unveil the evil dragon." The meaning may be "to clarify who the real person who controls the dragon is.” It means that there is no privacy that should be equally protected by the security of "U". I understood that was what he meant by "unveiling." If it's aimed at the dragon, which is hated by all over the world, everyone will be convinced it’s the right thing to do. But what if I was in his position?

Then, the story is different. I don't want to be unveiled. Anyone wouldn’t. Shouldn't that be the case? Shouldn't security equality be maintained? Executives approach the dragon with a searchlight. The dragon blocks the light with his hands, as if he hates the dazzling lights. However, the executives continue to shine a strong light without mercy. The dragon moves because of the glare, looks like he can't get rid of it. Justine aims carefully from a distance. The searchlight is caught. It seems very easy to shed light on the dragon that has stopped moving. Kuun ……, and the inside of the gun lens shines brilliantly, and the light is focused.

"Get him!!” Hiro-chan’s Az screams with excitement. Next to that, I kept staring at the dragon.

[.............]

The dragon looked up at me as if he had noticed me. His eyes met mine and my heart pulsated.

"Huh?"

From the narrow center of the searchlight, the dragon jumped towards us. The search light suddenly loses sight of the dragon and sways in a confused manner.

"Uh!"

Once Justine lowered his gun in the situation, but quickly repositioned it, he fired two consecutive shots. However, passing through it, the dragon rises at high speed and heads straight toward us.

"Ahhhhh!"

I and Hiro-chan’s Az are upset by the oppressive feeling and cannot move. The dragon approaches at a tremendous speed. Collide!

"Kyaaaa!" We screamed. But the dragon barely slipped beside us. A violent gust of wind occurs with a slight delay. The dragon rose as it was, turned around, and landed on the steel frame of the set. Hiro-chan’s Az was angry and looked up. "You’ve got to be kidding me, you idiot! What if Belle had been injured?"

Dragon approaches us again. "Ah!" The dragon rubbed right next to Hiro-chan’s Az and I, who were shrinking tightly, at a tremendous speed. His goal is the executives of the Justice Corps.

"Waaaaah!” The executives screamed, throwing out searchlights and escaping in all directions. As soon as the dragon did not let them escape, he swung a steel frame over his head and approached.

The light of the searchlight went out, and the area was surrounded by darkness again.

Only the cruel hitting sound and the painful screams of the executives echoed there. What's happening in the dark? Invisible horror dominated the field. Justine shouted, unbearably. "Open the door ..., open the door!"

A gap in the spherical stadium opens to follow the instructions. When it got brighter, I saw the sad appearance of the executives who were knocked down and couldn't move. How many Az did the dragon beat in this short time? It was overwhelming and strong. Justine stepped back, stiffening his face.

"This ... this shouldn't be allowed ...!"

The dragon flew with recoil when he released the steel frame he had in his hand. I look up at him with my eyes. Justine shouted to swear revenge.

"I will be sure to unveil you!"

As if he couldn't hear such a voice, the dragon went out of the stadium through the gap between the units on the ceiling and disappeared somewhere. I kept looking at the empty space where he had disappeared into.

"Who are you……?"

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

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

[myelocin]

please know that i’m yours to keep | oikawa tooru

synopsis: a comfort for the days you feel like you’re everything but what you try so hard to be.

genre: fluff, comfort | warnings: suggestive themes | wc: 2000+

characters: oikawa tooru

a/n: this is a commissioned piece from @triskoof ;w; 

the girl | city in colour 

ko-fi | commissions

Because you’re always meant to be yours, Oikawa Tooru loves you in the way that reminds you of that.

Like the tips of his fingers just barely grazing the skin on your face, he has a habit of pulling back before fully cupping your cheek. The kind of warmth that hovers—never touches—but still lingers.

Moments like now are where you’re glad that traces of him still stay, because it reminds you that his presence was meant to be one of the things that was lasting within a world that truly was anything but.

“I don’t feel beautiful,” you say, and Oikawa thinks the look in your eyes holds nothing but your most vulnerable truth.

And he supposes that he understands, because our thoughts aren’t just thoughts at the end of the day. Intertwined with them are the emotions that come as feelings, with the intention to be felt to the end and not just realized as a passing epiphany.

So, “Beautiful,” he replies, tasting the word on his tongue before swallowing it whole hoping that the heart from his truth would reach the words he always holds for you.

And he’s gentle, with not just the look in his eye, but also his honesty, when he says, “You.”

He cups your face in between his hands, and warm, you think.

They’re warm, because he’s here, and because he’s true.

He kisses you; the first on your forehead, right as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The second, on the tip of your nose, as he says the word beautiful, again, right before he mutters your name.

Your name, Hailey, as just six letters from the alphabet strung together to make a sound just this morning, but suddenly turned into your whole truth laid bare as Oikawa kisses you again.

You realize that it’s your truth in not just the objective sense, but more so because it’s one of the few things that would always be your constant.

“You’re beautiful,” Oikawa mutters again, then lets his face hover just inches away from yours as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. Phrases from him to you, which speak of not just his love, but also both his respect and awe, are mumbled in between the kisses he gives you.

In his arms you keep yourself still—pliant, even, as you let your body mold into his arms. And you feel safe, doing so. The thoughts in your head simmer from screaming into just whispers, but even as you still hear them poke and prod at you, Oikawa’s voice is what’s immediate in thundering over those which are unwelcome.

“Why aren’t you nice to yourself?” he asks, and in your moment of absolute vulnerability, you look at him and allow yourself to crack.

You don’t necessarily break, because you’ve always believed that a person can never fully be broken, but the cracks of your hurt run deeper in some places. The word beautiful rings in your head, like an echo you can’t seem to get rid of, but you want to shake it away.

Glassy brown eyes mean to peer at you and offer comfort, but it’s the ugly cracks of your resolve that come to you and whisper in your ear that you are anything but beautiful, when you see a reflection of yourself against them.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, taking the liberty of pulling yourself back and parting from him, “—it’s just hard to feel like you’re something.”

“Beautiful feels like a different person, Tooru,” you confess.

“Have you always felt this way?” he asks, ushering you to follow him to bed and making space for you to lie down in beside him. When you settle, he lies beside you, his face just inches away from yours once more.

“Some days,” you express, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah.”

Your some days, meaning that there really are moments where it feels like you have to constantly tell yourself that you are still beautiful that it becomes redundant enough to the point of sound like a drawl.

Tonight’s one of those days.

You’re a little more cracked than composed, so you let yourself be and hang on to Oikawa who you know has never wavered.

Intimacy in the little moments shared like this, but because today you feel like you’re everything but what you should be feeling and seeing things in every way but the way you should be seeing them—like yourself—you close your eyes when your reflection flashes across Oikawa’s again.

Intimacy like trust, because you know here, you are safe.

His palm that’s quick to move up and rest against the expanse of your cheek says “I love you.”

But it’s his voice, that makes his truth be known through words as he says, “You’re always gonna be beautiful.”

“Not for now,” you shake your head.

Oikawa chuckles, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch as he leans forward again to press a kiss at the tip of your nose. In response, you close your eyes, comfortable in the warmth he emits.

“For now is just that,” he hums. “You can’t always be on your own side or see things in the lighter way, but I’m here,” he smiles. “My eyes are open and they still you.”

“My beautiful girl,” he adds.

Through the strands of your hair that fell across your eyes, you see Oikawa offer you his honest kind of smile before propping himself up on one elbow to lean over you. He moves with purpose, but keeps his eyes on yours.

When he gets close enough, he smiles, again, and even if the thoughts in your head still rage with the intention to nestle within the cracks they made to grow and root themselves, you push them to the side in hopes they would quell.

(They don’t.)

But Oikawa’s voice reaching out to you—and arriving, hushes them again.

In the silence he builds with his words and presence alone, you release the tenseness of your muscles and sigh, holding up one hand just as Oikawa lets his down, both of your palms cradling the other’s cheeks.

Then it’s within the darkness where the two of you lay, eye to eye and face to face as the sunset in the sky shifts into the beginnings of the blue hour.

The blue hour, you recall, is the time of day that happens in the morning and night. The in between that bridges night and day, setting the scene for the transition. From black to blue at six AM, right before the sky erupts into shades of vanilla. Then, when it’s six at night—like right now, it’s the burnt orange of today’s sunset mellowing into the depth of blue.

You know it’ll turn dark soon.

But you stare straight into Oikawa’s eyes anyway, hoping to drown out the sounds of your demons with the hues of earth and reflected fragments of the sky within the two perfect orbs that look at you, as if you hold constellations.

In the blue hour—the inbetween—you let yourself be still and fall.

And at the sight of your surrender, Oikawa leans down and kisses you. His lips on your neck, starting from the spot right behind your ear, trailing down to the tops of your collarbone, he mumbles your name in between the traces of him he intertwines with you.

His name, from your lips, sounding like just a breathless whisper to the ears of the world is like a sort of lifeline for him to hang on to, because through the haze he’s aware you probably are seeing the world with in your moments of weakness—you still are with him.

So he holds you.

His legs on either side of your waist, and arms on either sides of you, he nips at the skin of your exposed neck, leaving a mark. “You’re beautiful like this,” he winks at you, all the while as you laugh, knowing full well that his words are fueled with the intent to lighten the situation.

It works, because in the soft light of the blue hour, you wait as he raises his head from your chest, your stare steady, meaning to lock with his. At the sight of you, Oikawa holds your gaze, a light smile against his lips.

“You’re just saying that,” you laugh, peering down and moving your hands to brush away his bangs that fell across his eyes.

At the sight of your earth—your world within this world—you soften. It’s only as you peered underneath the underneath where you realized that Oikawa was just a man who still had his flaws beneath the porcelain mask he wore.

“I say things because I mean them,” he tells you, and from the steadiness of his voice, there’s nothing in you that tells you to doubt him.

So you do the logical thing and believe him.

In the blue hour you make your hurts be known, finding words to string together to atleast give the hurt a name, and Oikawa listens.

But none the less, he tells you you’re beautiful, through the silence that he blankets around the room, and by the way he moves with you. He kisses you on your forehead again, tenderly, before capturing your lips with his. And love, you think—right then and there—has always felt like patience with him.

Slow kisses under your ceiling with the glow in the dark stickers in the shape of distant galaxies and stars, it has you feeling infinite.

His hands that know the contour of your body: from the dip on your waist to the scar that’s barely even there right by your thigh. He touches you like he would glass, fragile. And he breathes your name like he would whisper his confessions—and you know they’re all of love.

(You are in love.)

As in love as you are, you also are reminded that emotions can move like waves.

One day you feel beautiful, then in the next you don’t.

Emotions will always be raw, because at the very core of what they are—that’s just their nature. The ugly parts of it can come like a whirlwind some days instead of creep in slow and slam against your foundations, getting cracks to form in deep.

But, the beautiful will still remain, you think.

Beautiful like the earth of Oikawa’s eyes staring at you as if you hold all the constellations in the skies.

The silence comes and goes, and beautiful is the way he holds you when night comes and darkness floods the room. He still feels you against him, your skin a familiar kind of warmth against his, while the calluses of his palms don’t scare you even as he trails them under your shirt and over the bare skin of your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says again, and Oikawa knows that it’s only been those two words that you’ve heard from him again and again throughout the night, but the more he wracks his brain for a better set of words to say—the less actually comes to him.

He tries to show you, none the less.

And it isn’t just in the intimacy of sex where he lays himself bare to you too, but it’s also through this that he hopes to convey his whole truth to you, in hopes that you’d see you through his eyes to get you through the aches of your today.

Oikawa’s aware that perhaps tomorrow, you’ll rise again.

But it’s this for now where he reminds you of the infinity he’s always known you’ve held.

“I love you,” when he pushes inside you, and “I love you,” again, when he hears you sniffle at the emotions that he knows just overwhelm.

“You’re beautiful,” you know he means to say when he leans down anyway and brushes the hair away from your forehead to press his against it. “You’re beautiful,” you hear again, when his thumb brushes over the scars you know have long healed across your body, then at the shell of your ear right after he whispers your name, again.

(And your name is beautiful.)

Most days you think it is, but because today it’s a word that’s a little hard to say, you hang on to him and allow his truth to come to you and wrap you whole.

Oikawa feels you hold on to him, so he holds you too—centering you back to the now.

You’re probably a mess underneath him, you think. Lipstick from earlier still wasn’t wiped off and he’s probably kissed you a hundred times now. Your clothes are crumpled, your shirt pushed up at best and your underwear just shoved to the side in his haste, but he says beautiful again, and again, as if it’s the first he’s truly seeing you.

(Perhaps it is.)

(The face of vulnerability has always looked different every time, after all.)

The now is a moment of vulnerability, so you let him hold you.

And because Oikawa knows you’re always meant to be yours, he shows that he loves you forever, by holding you and giving you a safe space to just feel the things that come.

“I don’t feel okay,” is your moment of weakness, because you’re still human.

But in Oikawa’s wordless way of conveying “I love you,” and “You’re beautiful,” do you feel the assurance  that even though days like this come and try to drown you—you’ll always have your boy with two eyes holding the earth who will keep your head from going under.

[whumpqin]

Flashback for Adair as well please ✨

As you wish! Sorry this took so long, but hope it was worth the wait! <3

CW: nonhuman whumpee, whumpee who is a minor (16 y/o), beating mention, blood, glass cuts, nonhuman caretaker, hurt/comfort, (slightly) painful caretaking, referenced character death (if I missed something please let me know and I'll edit!)

Content under the cut!

In the underbelly of The Fallen Seeker, where the metallic pipes rested and hissed as she continued her neverending journey across the sea, there was a quiet sob. It was muffled and hitched as its presence was hushed.

Adair pressed his thumb and index finger over his nose to prevent another ugly noise from coming out. His brow furrowed in pain as his chest heaved, pressing upon bruised ribs - or maybe they were broken, he hadn’t learned to tell just yet. His other hand clutched onto his compass, broken glass scoring into his hand, where the object's face had been shattered an hour before.

His thoughts raced. Adair opened up his airway briefly to sniffle, pressing his head against the cool metal of the ship to soothe the throbbing in his head. Everything hurt with every quick beat of his heart, and that only made him all that more miserable.

He didn’t know what he said was wrong. But something had bothered the Captain when he’d been trying to make idle conversation, and he had seized Adair by his wrists and thrown him to the ground. He’d landed kick after kick on him, blows that left him breathless and crying. In the finality of it all, to “send a message”, he’d fished out Adair’s compass and ground it beneath his heel, cracking its foundation and shattering the glass on it. He tried to grab every broken piece of it, but between getting away and the Captain’s shouting voice he’d never be sure that he did.

Those same pieces still dug into his palms. Adair’s eyes scrunched up as another hopeless, terrified sob wracked his body with pain. He wanted to go home.

With the sound of footsteps echoing into the halls, however, he was quiet once more. Thumb and index slipped over his nose to keep in his crying as a crewman walked close by.

A Cambion, aqua skinned with two sets of chipped horns and choppy black hair, stepped into view. One of the only other Cambion on The Fallen Seeker, Adair was quick to recognize him as Kairon’s black eyes swept across the room suspiciously.

Adair shifted, trying to curl in on himself. His boot slipped against the pipes and banged into another, creating a hollow sound just loud enough that Kairon’s gaze landed on him immediately.

His posture seemed to relax instantly upon recognizing Adair. “Little one,” he muttered, ducking his head underneath some pipes to get a better look at him. From this distance Adair could still see the way his faded gray pupils darted around, assessing him. Kairon’s brow furrowed. “What has happened?”

Kairon’s hard exterior wasn’t present in his voice. Instead, it was laced with an almost fatherly concern, and that thought made Adair’s eyes well up with more tears. He made a few false starts to speak, opening and closing his mouth before finally turning away to sob.

When the lump in his throat didn’t hurt so much, Adair finally forced out an “I can’t,” in the form of a whisper.

He threw his arms over his face, curling away from Kairon. He didn’t care what the Cambion thought of him or how pitiful he looked. Adair wanted, for just a moment, to pretend like he wasn’t on this damned boat with these damned people. The cracks of the hard exterior he’d worked to put up to earn some form of respect had become too great to bear or cover up. The forced back tears and grief now flowed out of him like a broken dam, and their reserves were not going to run dry any time soon.

Despite what he’d expected of Kairon - which was to lunge forward and take advantage of his weakness somehow, considering that’s what they all did - there was instead a long pause. Adair could hear his own crying. In an effort to quiet the echoing noise he turned his head and bit at his sleeve.

“Little one, you’re hurt,” Kairon muttered. “Come here. I will take care of you.”

Adair shot him a glare to show that he didn’t buy it. Why should he? Kairon would never risk looking weak himself for something like this. He’d said so, multiple times.

In the short silence, Kairon sighed. “Adair.” His voice lowered, more commanding but still holding that soft tone. “I will help you.”

“And what- and what about your stupid reputation, huh?” Adair choked out.

Kairon made a show of looking down the halls. “I see no one. You?” He didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. Adair couldn’t hear the footsteps of anyone else. So, he shook his head. Kairon waved his hand in an inviting gesture. “Come here. I will bind your wounds.”

There was another pause as Adair considered his motions and words. He’d never seen Kairon take sadistic pleasure in hurting him, nor participate in whatever the other crewmen were doing to him. He’d always stood on the sidelines, working quietly. Was it really too much to want to trust him? In Adair’s muddied head - still throbbing with sickening pain - he wanted to think that he would be taken care of, just this once. The lull of reprieve was too great to shun in favor of caution.

So, slowly and painfully, Adair wriggled out from the pipes of The Fallen Seeker, wincing when his wounds were brushed. The warm touch of Kairon pressed against his shoulders to bear some of the weight, until Adair was settled on his knees, head angled up to the other Cambion. He knew he looked pathetic and hopeless, tear-streaked cheeks still wet despite his own attempts to dry them. Kairon paused for a moment, a deep set frown worked onto his face as those black eyes scanned him over and over. Then he reached down, pulling up Adair’s clenched hand. Gently Kairon pried open his fingers, revealing the broken compass, along with several shards of broken glass.

“Do you… want to talk?” Kairon asked. He slowly began to pick at the glass shards, pulling them from skin and setting them down. “About what happened?”

Adair firmly shook his head. “N-no. I don’t. I don’t want to think about it more than, than- no no don’t take that!” his voice suddenly raised in a shout as Kairon picked up his compass. Adair jerked back, pulling it from the other Cambion’s grip as it held it close to his chest. “It’s mine. Don’t you dare touch it.”

Kairon opened his mouth, before closing it and setting his jaw. “It belonged to your father, yes?” Adair nodded slowly as he gave him another glare. “No no, do not worry. Such things… you treasure them. At least… At least he had something to give. Keep it hidden, Adair. But please, someplace else. Your hand must be tended to.” Kairon pointed to the ground further away from him.

Adair’s brows knitted against the bitter tang in his mouth, hating the idea of putting it down somewhere it could be taken from him. He turned enough to see where he’d come from, to the pipes Kairon could not squeeze behind, and slid the metal frame of the compass until it gently impacted the wall.

When he looked back Kairon was already setting to work, ripping up spare bits of cloth from his clothing with a small knife previously hidden. The other Cambion gently touched Adair’s wrist and held his hand palm up to again work on removing the glass underneath his skin. Though Kairon was clearly careful, Adair winced and flinched at the sharp spikes of pain shooting up his arm. Low hitched whines echoed in this small space as the pain wove into the bruises along his face, his ribs, sinking in the form of deep aches Adair was sure wouldn’t fade any time soon.

Silence stretched on between them as Kairon wrapped cloth tightly against his cuts and tied it so no more blood would flow. Adair sniffled as his hand was released, and curled it close to himself. A thumb and index finger softly touched his chin, lifting his head to angle it to the left and right.

“Mm… that will bruise. But there is little else to do but wait.” Kairon’s gaze drifted down to Adair’s side, where he wrapped arms to shield his injured ribs, and frowned. He placed a hand on Adair’s shoulder. “It will hurt, but if you are careful it will be better soon.” Then he withdrew to stand.

Adair lifted his hands to wipe at the stray tears that had fallen from his face. “Why are you doing this?” he said after Kairon, who paused in his leaving.

The Cambion turned and gave Adair a force smile. His eyes, however, were clouded with a mix of emotions that were weighed by a deep set frown. “You remind me of someone else. Strong heart. Deserves better.” Kairon’s head angled towards one of the halls at the sound of a very faint whistle. “Ah, I must go. Take care, Little One. I cannot always be kind.”

Adair nodded, muttering a small word of thanks, heard only by himself, before crawling back behind the pipes. He cradled his broken compass and listened to the footsteps as they echoed down the hall.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Poly!Laughing Jack x Fem!Reader x Offenderman

Title: Punish Me // The Odd Throuple

Plot: Y/N gets shot in the neck and through the chest and is rushed to get help at Slender Mansion. This is your boyfriends’ reactions to you being seriously hurt. 

Notes:

I wrote most of this on my phone on the train so I’m sorry probably lots of errors!! My autocorrect likes to correct properly spelled words to the wrongly spelled versions I’ve accidentally typed in the past. 😒

Why, oh why, are my fluffiest works always with these two bastards??? Comfort characters...

Warnings: Well, you get shot because Offender raped someone. So, decide with that how you will. Sexual references also

~~~

"This is for my daughter, you f-freaks!" The man behind you is sobbing now. When he caught you it was just an itchy fidget, now that Offender and L.J are here he's falling apart.

The gun pressed into the crook of your neck moves and shifts with his ugly, heartbroken cries and all you can think is; I'm sorry. Oh my god, I'm so sorry, even as your body goes cold and you shiver with fear at having such a lethal weapon pressed to your skin at the hand of someone so unstable at the moment. You didn't even do anything to this man, but you feel his pain and feel sick anyway.

I'm so, so sorry.

You can only imagine what he means. What happened to his daughter...

"Who's your daughter!?" Offender growls, desperately. And uselessly. There's no way he remembers, there's no way he could help now. He doesn't ask for the names, and he certainly doesn't bother to listen if they tell him. He's just pleading. He doesn't know what else he could do. Just don't shoot her lethally. Miss the heart, he chants in his head. He can get you to Slender then but if you're dead... there's just nothing he can do. Its out of his power and he feels useless.

And this is his fault.

L.J doesn't respond at all, standing beside him. His eyes are on you, watching carefully. Communicating through his eyes. He hasn't moved since he realised the situation, struck completely still. He doesn't know what to do. If he fights for you, and he loses you still? ... He doesn't know if he could do that.

And then again, if you're killed anyway and he did nothing, it'll still hurt... but then at least he would have plausible deniability. He can... he can live like that. The alternative is worse. Far, far worse, to him.

And more then that, he doesn't care about bartering with this man.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes- losing a few tears you didn't know, through the shock, where glazing your eyes.

"You... fucker... took her before it was time, and now... " The man takes a deep breath in, making it cold on your neck where his face is hidden. "I'm going to take something you care about."

"WAIT- "

BANG.

A searing hot pain tears through your skin, everywhere as the bullet rips your insides open and a terrible scream rips out of your throat, more from shock, as the man lets your body go and gravity drags you down, nearly knocking your head on the concrete. Before that could happen though, Offender teleports and catches you.

As your sight dapples away into blackness and L.J's cries for you to say something peter out, you feel the familiar terrible whooshing of teleportation just before the world goes

completely, 

and

   utterly,

           still.

___TIME SKIP___

"Y/N... Y/N... I see your eyelids flickering, are you awake? Or experiencing some kind of terrible neural damage I need to get Slender for?" Claws slide under your neck, against the pillow and sit there cool against your skin as L.J shifts his body, and his chair, more impossibly close to your bed. "Lollipop~ You have to give me a sign, I'm not a real doctor."

"You... play one... pretty well. D-don't you?" You whisper, voice croaky and hard to utilise. Your eyelids are heavy, too, but you manage to peak at him for a moment. He opens his mouth in a sharp grin, relieved.

"So no amnesia then??" He exclaims, excitedly.

"Was that," Coughing into the air, because your body is still too weak to really move, you taste metal on your tongue. "A possibility???"

"Well, Slender didn't say it in those words, but... I feel like it was unspoken."

Knitting your eyebrows together, you start to worry about your condition yourself, before a weight like a folder or a clipboard drops on the bed by your feet and Slender heaves a great sigh.

"You were worried." He says sternly, assuredly to L.J. "You were in no danger of enduring inflicted amnesia, Y/N. L.J just has a wild imagination due to a birth defect called stupidity. Unfortunately there's nothing we can do about that."

L.J says nothing in response to that for a moment, and you can imagine him just looking deadpanned at the taller creature. "You're toad, Slender."

"Whatever. However, Y/N, while you do not have amnesia you do have a number of other inflicted injuries and because of that I am suggesting you stay here where you can properly be watched until they're manageable for you to deal with on your own." He pauses, apparently tired of our presence already. "That is unless, of course, you want to rip your many stitches or contract any kind of infectious disease because you trusted the man that thought you had amnesia, and the one that fully trusts in the 'psychologically healing' properties of copious amounts of alcohol," Oh, so that's where Offender is. "to take care of you medically."

"Um," Your voice is high, unsure quite how to respond. Slender and his bluntness does this to you a lot. "No, that's okay? Thanks for offering for me to stay?"

Another cough forces itself suddenly out of your throat from the use of your voice, as your throat is so dry - How long were you asleep?? - and, this time, L.J extends his free arm to gently cover your mouth like you would with your own if you could move right now. As soon as you're done, he retracts his long, loong arm and your stomach squirms pleasantly about how cute and affectionate that was for him.

He takes a deep breath. "Very good. I'm leaving. Offender can read your chart when he gets in here." Then, like a light, the heavy atmosphere that Slender carries with him everywhere disappears from the room and you feel L.J stretch and snatch the folder object at the end of your bed.

"I can read this, thanks." With one hand to hold the thing, L.J peers at it for a moment... for so long, in fact, that you risk your energy to peak at him again just see him use his pointed nose to slide the page up to look at the next one... Before he frisbee-throwing the folder back to the end of the bed and returning his attention fully back to you, crossing one elongated, stripy leg over the other. "Never mind. What’s with this family? They make up there own language?"

Grinning at his antics like you always do, your eyelids fall shut again and you feel the relief of not using so much energy. "I think medical charts everywhere are like that."

"So the whole medical profession started there own code, then. Bastards."

A chuckle escapes you, as you're slipping closer to sleep. "L.J, I think I'm... gonna... go back to sleep... for a bit... "

"You do that. I'll make up jokes."

"Okie, yay... "

As you fall back into the welcoming arms of sleep, L.J puts his free claws to work removing the crinkles out in your bed spread and nightgown- unable to stay still. Unable to leave you alone.

He has to stay with you.

___TIME SKIP___

The next time you open your eyes, Offender has joined L.J, but instead of sitting in a chair he leans sloppily on the wall by the door, evidently still feeling the effects of his 'psychological healing' with the alcohol.

This time you're able to open your eyes a crack and keep them open like that. You’re able to to see the room now, which is basically just like any other bedroom in Slender mansion with hard wood floors and dark walls, except there’s an IV beside you and sheets on the floor.

Again, L.J's keen eye catches your consciousness first. "You're awake again!"

"Hi." You grin in greeting, noticing L.J's claws are on your tummy now, the one on his thumb rubbing up and down a small area.

Offender comes forward immediately and leans close to your face over your bed, draping an arm over the bed frame to hold himself up. "You good there, squirt?" Wincing at the nickname, because it does not come from Finding Nemo, you shift your head on the pillow in a nod. He chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Well, you're not, but that's my girl." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling back and picking up the medical chart on hi way back to the wall. Blowing air out of his cheeks in reaction to the information, he leans back on the wall again and starts reading the 'code'. "Now, lets see what's wrong with ya... "

L.J and you sit - and lay, - at attention as he lists and explains what it says. Some of the things that come out of his mouth do scare you, but honestly most of it was just stuff you expected. You still may be in a bit of shock, to be honest, but at the moment you're just more concerned with the fact that Offender really can read it! Unless he's making it all up, in which case, boo.

When he's done, you're all quiet for a moment, taking in how long that took - and therefore how much damage was really done by that bullet, - before L.J, of course- well, doesn't lift your spirits exactly, but changes the course of the worry in the room, for sure. And that's why you and Offender love him. Well, one of the many reasons. Raising his pointer claw off your stomach, he announces, "I call conspiracy!!"

Offender puts down the chart and crosses his arms, bemused at him. "What this time?"

"These charts. You say this is English??" L.J squints, looking between your and his boyfriend.

"Yeah."

"I don’t buy it. I'm British and I tried to read that, and it was total gibberish. Tell him, Y/N."

"He is British and he did try to read it." You concur.

L.J nods at Offender. "Yep."

"And he did fail." You grin, this time.

L.J nods again, without shame. "Yep."

"Well... " Offender leans menacingly forward, towards L.J who leans back despite them being feet away from each other, then grins. "I read it just fine."

"I feel like I'm being gaslighted."

"Oh jeez." You grin, turning your head on your pillow to set L.J with a look, amused by him.

"Oh, and- Your brother called me stupid. Again. You need to fight for my honour." L.J informs Offender, swivelling in his seat to properly face him, while still holding me.

"Oh, you poor victim, you." Offender shifts, shaking his head amusedly at L.J. "Tut, tut, tut. What a cruel world."

L.J ignores that obvious sarcasm. "Yes, precisely. Oh woe is me, and all that. Hop to it." Nodding to the door promptly, L.J turns back to me. A little grin plays at his black lips.

"Oh sure thing." Offender shakes his head again, before pushing off the wall and straddling the arm of L.J's chair instead. "Anyway, the only honour I care about right now is Y/N's." L.J seems to agree with that, eyes going steely and lips curling at the memory of why you're all in this room in the first place. "So, what'll it be, beautiful? I'm the reason you got hit, so, by Vikings oath I've vowed to endure whatever punishment you decide is necessary." You open your mouth immediately to laugh him off, but he makes no movement like he usually would if he were joking. Instead, he quickly adds, "Go on."

"... hold on, you're German. Aren't Vikings Scandinavian?-"

"Shut up, clown man; I'm old. I've been places. Get with the program."

Rolling your eyes, unintentionally fondly at the two, you look around the room. "Um," Unbelievably croaky, and painfully, you ask. "Get me a cup of water?"

"Oh!-" While Offender quickly teleports off to get you that, L.J just absentmindedly brushes some hair out of your face. Offender comes back in a young moment and they both help you sit up. L.J helps guide you by your hands, while Offender stuffs pillows securely at the base of your back.

"Thanks, guys," You accept the glass of water with a gracious smile. "Thank you."

As you're taking a sip, Offender returns to his spot on the arm of L.J's chair and watches you expectantly, heavily. Swallowing the water, you raise a curious brow. "So? My punishment?"

You nearly choke on the water, but instead take a moment to compose yourself. "Wha- I thought that was the punishment!"

"Getting water??"

"I didn't say please!"

L.J clicks his finger claws, lifting them off you for a moment to point and nod in agreement at Offender. "Right, that's true. She didn't. 'S not her fault you have no sensitivity towards good manners." He turns back to you as Offender makes a perturbed shape with his mouth. "You have lovely manners."

"Thank you!"

"Of course dearest."

"Wha- I- F- hah???" As you and L.J have your 'Old British Sit Com' moment as Offender would always refer to it from then on, he stutters and looks between the two of you confusedly. "Hold on, hold on stop that this instant-" Reaching over and waiving a hand between the two of you as you were looking sweetly at each other, he successfully snaps you both out of it. "Neither of you are taking this seriously. You," He points his finger at L.J, who narrows his eyes at the offending appendage. Probably thinking 'And your manners, are terrible.'. "Shoosh. And you, “ L.J presses his lips firmly closed as Offender turns his stern finger to you, making you sit up straighter at attention. “Come on, baby.” He slips to his knees as you start to fully understand his desperation right now and grips the side of your mattress. His hat slips to cover the top of his face and your eyes flicker to L.J’s, which are also sheened in a very covered layer of worry, and back. “Punish me. It’s my fault. You got bandages and tubes and... fucking bloodstains. I did this. And in order for our relationship to continue healthily you need to get back at me somehow. So come on, one more time I’m gonna say it so L.J if you say something about masochism I will throw you out the window; Y/N, punish me. Goddamnit, please.”

“Offender,” You start in a scolding voice, pushing yourself off the pillows with difficulty, wincing at the pain shooting through your collar bones. When L.J’s eyes flicker over you and your pained features, because, while Offender is clearly perfectly fine with showing his affections, L.J certainly is not. You flash him an ‘its fine’ smile as you push your legs off the end of the bed. “I’m not that hurt! And I’m certainly not upset with you in any way, its not necessary!” 

“You were shot, Y/N!” 

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes, as if the infliction wasn't a big deal. Like there are more important things, which in the moment you do think there are in Offender’s outlook at the moment. It honestly scares you. It isn't him. Dropping your hands on his shoulders, you dip your head to look seriously at him. “Its not that bad! I mean, I think Slender woulda told me if I was gonna die, don’t you think? And you read the chart! You know I’ll be okay.” 

“... Yeah, he would've. And then the little punk woulda left the room chuckling."

"Oooh," L.J leans back in his chair, thumb claw between his teeth as he imagines how it would have gone, arctic blues glazed over with imagination. "He totally would... "

Nodding in agreement, you kneed your thumbs into Offender shoulders comfortingly. "Yep. Same thing for if I wasn't going to recover at all. Don't you think?"

"Y/Nnnn,” He groans, resisting. 

“I’ll, be, fine.” Leaning down, you press your forehead to his- breath hitching when you feel your stitches stretching but forcing your self to stay put for a moment. “Don’t feel so guilty. Or, at least try- its an odd colour on you.” 

“Mm.” Offender’s mouth twists like he tasted something gross. Then he sighs, the muscles in his shoulders easing. “Oh, what, you think a good old ‘belligerent’s more me?”

“Maybe a gentle ‘creepy’, at most.” L.J pats his back, breaking out of his dream world. You grin and nod. 

“That work for you?” 

“We can try it on for size.” 

L.J snorts. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Offender turns and looks up at him, a bemused smile on his face. Still reluctant to let it go, but trying. “What? Does BEN need to re- try on his used condom hat now, too??” 

With that, Offender and you dissolve into barks of laughter, you hiding your pink face in your hands while L.J just shrugs, holding up his hands like ‘Aren't I right though??’. “What?? Its one of your charms!” He adds, a corner of his dark mouth fighting to point up even as he looks confusedly at your shaking bodies. 

“OKAY,” Slender pushes the door open then, interrupting and dropping his shoulders slowly. “I’ve heard enough. It time for Y/N to return to sleep- what. What is she doing out of bed? Put her back. And then, both of you, can get out of my house! ... and take your unfortunate analogies with you.” Shoulders slumping, he then mutters, “... I’ll never be able to look at that hat again without thinking about that... “  

Offender heaves his own sigh, so like his brother in the moment as he pushes himself up and guides you back into a comfortable laying position, muttering himself. “You would think, after so... so, many centuries with that man, I would be immune to his annoyingness... But no.” 

Snickering, L.J leans back in his chair, reaching down into the pockets of his pants as you start to feel exhaustion wash over you again. Slender’s right, you do need more sleep... 

Slender just opens the door more fully and gestures towards it for his brother and Laughing Jack. Slowly, he drawls the next word. “Out?” 

“G’night sweetheart.” Offender gives you another kiss on the forehead, completely ignoring his brother this time. “Just keep thinking about that punishment, okay? Just... keep it in mind.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you wish Offender would let it go... but nod anyway, for his sake. Not like you actually will think about it at all. L.J brushes your hair back after he steps back and taps your forehead gently with his thumb. 

“Sweet dreams lollipop!” 

Then L.J returns to his chair and Offender drags up a chair beside him for himself and Slender grips the door tighter. “Oh, no. No no no. Get, out, of my home.” 

Slowly L.J looks over at Slender, then squishing his butt down further into the chair pointedly, and Offender props his legs up on the end of your bed. You chuckle, and close your eyes. Embarrassed by your weirdly good boyfriends.  They aren't perfect by any, a n y means, but they are pretty cool sometimes. You like them- and that's an understatement. 

“Aghhh, don’t think I’m bringing you dinner.” Slender lets up quickly, disinterested in putting up any fight and rolls his shoulders of you all, closing the door as he walks off. “Hooligans.” 

As you close your eyes, and pull the blankets up further over your body to your chin, relaxing into a resting, sleep exposed state Offender crosses his arms, setting in probably for a nap himself, with no other idea how to pass the silent time and L.J turns promptly to him, with a colourful but mostly black box in his hand. 

“Silent Uno??” 

[its-ya-boi-autumn]

Alright, you asked for it, you got it, Part 4 of my yandere Feitan series~ honestly I feel like this is more so soft yandere rather than intense. I could do better, but as long as you like it~ And you also deserve it for being so accepting of me recently ❤️ If this is kind of out of wack/order it’s because I started writing it and reallllyyyyy got into it but just kept writing and not really thinking so if it’s weird I apologize, but I did have one single goal in mind for it

An incoherent cacophony of voices plead from the room below you. Over the last year and a half, blocking them out had proven difficult, though not impossible. In fact, sometimes they were comforting, even if you knew exactly what was happening. Feitan had brought a couple over not even twenty minutes after you’d woken up. They had been unconscious and slung on either side of a different man’s shoulders. He didn’t bother to introduce himself yet you didn’t mind. You’d ask Feitan later if it has seriously began to eat at you. Likely, it wouldn’t.

The young man and what you supposed may have been a friend of Feitan’s were heard to be shouting profanities and the woman could be heard wailing, though you couldn’t exactly make out the words of the men’s argument, too focused on the little white butterfly fluttering about the dead dandelions in front of your window. Eventually, silence clouded into your mind. Whether Feitan had offed them or you had gotten too good at blocking them out was unbeknownst to you.

Your eyes followed the butterfly back and forth, up and down, around the dead flowers and grass. It seemed so unbothered by such an ugly sight. It wasn’t too common for them to be wandering about the area, though occasionally they popped up here and there, accidentally bumping into the glass but quickly recovering. Just like you. It was almost like a hyper focus on the creature. So small and frail, such an innocent insect. It didn’t think much of pain or misery. It’s only objective was to survive. Eat. Fly. Live. A small part of you in the back of your mind wished for that simple objective. Well, you guessed you had it, though it seemed a lot harder as a sentient being. What with the pain of mental situation rather than just physical stimulation.

Once the butterfly flew away, you came back into focus of your world. The realization of your situation, the familiarity of Feitan’s cabin closing in on you. Your head sank, the sound of screams causing your ears to ring. Your hands covered your ears and you jumped up and left the room. Your breathing had sped up in the slightest and your legs wobbled with the numbness of sitting in one position for too long. You swung the bedroom door open, not bothering to close it behind you–though it bothered Feitan to no end–and headed straight down the hall for the bathroom, where you shut the door quietly and stepped into the tub, not bothering to turn the light on. Your body sank against the wall while you tucked your head between your knees, legs beginning to shake and hands sweating over your ears. Blocking them out wasn’t hard, but when you came back into focus, for some reason you panicked. You hadn’t realized you were crying until you heard yourself sniffle. Why were you crying? You didn’t feel unsafe, you didn’t have sympathy for these people. You’d heard many people die down there, this wasn’t a new thing for you. Why were you so upset?

Eventually, silence spread across the cabin and footsteps clambered up the stairs. You attempted to quiet your sniffling and stop your leg from bouncing off the porcelain of the tub. Feitan and the other man stomped down the hall to his room, stopping at the doorway.

“Where’d she go?” the other mans voice penetrated the silence. It was rough and husky, though no where near comforting or worried. It sounded agitated at your absence. You took a quiet deep breath, waiting for Feitan’s answer. Nothing. The door handle to the bathroom wiggled before knuckles rapped at the door.

“Y/n?” Feitan asked through the wood. Your hands left your ears and rested on your cheeks.

“Yes?” your voice wobbled slightly in attempt to be loud enough.

“Unlock the door.” the command startled you. He didn’t sound harsh or forceful, just a rough way of asking. Slowly, you stood from your position, trying not to trip over the wall of the tub as you left it. You steadied yourself against the wall before shakily reaching out to unlock the door. Afterwards you retreated backwards, hugging yourself and sitting on the floor against the tub. The door opened gently as not to spook you, though the other man seemed to be rather impatient with Feitan’s slowness. You glanced up at him, red-eyed and trembling, knees folded against your chest in front of you. His eyes softened for just a moment before hardening again. He sighed.

“What is it this time?” he asked, coming over to crouch down in front of you.

“I-I’m not- I don’t-” you stuttered over yourself, trying to think of an answer before he grew impatient. He didn’t rush you, simply staying crouched in front of you.

“I think it’s- the- the- um-”

“Oh come on. Spit it out already!” the blonde man shouted through the door. You jumped at the sound, banging your funny bone on the side of the tub. A whimper escaped your mouth at the initial shock it caused.

“I don’t like the screaming...” you hurried to say as to keep from upsetting the other man, who rolled his eyes at your answer. Feitan gave you a perplexed face. 

“I was zoning out just fine and then I couldn’t... block it out...” you trailed off to Feitan, who was surprisingly listening to you intently. He stayed crouched down in front of you, now sitting on his knees and turning to the door.

“Phinks you can leave now.” he spoke in his soft tone. Phinks didn’t seem very happy about this order, though he left anyway, the front door slamming behind him. You remembered that not even a few minutes ago he was annoyed by the fact that you weren’t where you were supposed to be. It made your stomach churn. Feitan turned back to face you and stood up.

“Come.” he turned and left you there, expecting you to follow, which you did. You struggled to stand upright for a few seconds before making it out the door and back into the room where Feitan was sitting on the bed, removing his cloak and throwing it into the hamper next to the bed. You kept close to yourself in the doorway just in case he was upset about something. He was awfully calm and collected right then though, so you assumed you had to of been safe. He beckoned you to come to him with his hand and sat on the bed, fiddling with something in his pocket again. You closed the door, moving to sit next to him on the bed.

“The screams bother you, yes?” he started, turning to face you again. You sniffled, nodding your head as your hands played with your fingernails, picking at them gently.

“I thought you said you found them comforting not even a few nights ago.” he started to pry at you little by little, figuring out what had upset you. Your shoulders shrugged.

“I- I don’t know I just... um...” you were just as confused. You’d been nothing but confused for the last few weeks. Staying with Feitan for so long has turned your kidnapping into an almost completely normal home life. You didn’t feel trapped or lonely in any way anymore, I’m fact you thought you were beginning to like it here, or at the very least get used to it.

 Feitan hummed, averting his gaze from your face. You didn’t make to return it either. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head down. You wondered what he was thinking about. How to deal with you? You could only assume your discomfort in his hobby was more than inconvenient. Would he shove you down in the crawl space again? It wouldn’t help, but you didn’t know if he’d care. In fact, he might do it just for the sheer fact of you sharing that bit of vulnerable information. You regretted telling him anything at all.

After a few moments of silence, he stood again, leaving you alone in the room. Thinking. Your legs closed tighter and you hunched over yourself. Had you just made a fatal mistake? Should you have just kept your mouth shut? Trembling sensations trickled along your spine and branched to every other bone in your body, muscles spasming slightly and goosebumps tickling your arms and thighs. You shut your eyes to block it out and covered your ears again. You didn’t know what he problem was, just that it was beginning to break you. Something sick twisted against the lining of your stomach, nausea suddenly flooding your mouth with saliva. You were going to vomit. Immediately you rushed to the bathroom again, doubling over the toilet. The thought of his fingers toying with whatever was in his pocket intruded your mind in the midst of your misery. You had to find out what it was. Tonight. Whether he told you or not. 

You finished up and cleaned your nose and chin, standing to make way back for the room. Swallowing roughly, your legs carried you back to the bed, sitting at the edge once again. Feitan came back in, shutting the door behind him and standing in front of you.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” he spoke softly, “I’ve noticed a change in your behavior over the course of the year, so I’m going to give you a choice.”

His words confused you. For once, you had a choice. His pale hand reached into his pocket, pulling something out. When he opened his palm, you noticed not one, but two items. One a golden key, it’s ridges rusted from overuse and age. The other, a silver ring with a single miniature gem on top. It looked similar to that of diamond. You took a glance up at him then back at his hand. A light gasp emitted from your lips. 

“Wh-”

“I’m letting you make a decision. Right here. Right now.” he dropped to kneel in front of you. Your hands fisted the sheets as your lip wobbled. A choice.

“You can take the key, I’ll give you the nearest location to stay, and you can leave. Or, you can take the ring, and stay with me. Safe and knowing you have someone to feed you and...” he trailed for a moment, “love you...”

The first instinct in your brain was to snatch the key and run. Leave and never come back. Your legs were already bouncing. at the mere thought of it. Yet something in the back of your mind tugged at the idea of staying with him. Guaranteeing what you considered to now be your safety and your home. It had been so long since you’d seen anything outside of these walls and that fence in the back yard. You could go back home, see your mother again. The necklace felt warm against your skin.

“Do I have time to at least think it over?” you tried, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. He stared back at you, then gently shook his head.

“I need your answer now.” he stated flatly. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking. The cons outweighed the pros in staying with him and yet it felt almost wrong to leave him here. It felt wrong to run from him. It felt wrong to be free. You reached a hand out for the key, urging yourself to take it and make your choice. The choice to live happily. Even if alone. But something in his face twitched, just for a second. His brows knitted in sadness and the corners of his lips drooped. Your breath caught in your throat as your body tensed. You couldn’t leave him, not like this.

The ring was cold and heavy in your sweaty palm.

[memecomradejojo]

should Joseph be considered a gilf objective analysis

In this post I will be objectively analyzing whether or not it is acceptable to consider old joseph as a gilf. as we know a gilf is subjective and is truly defined by someone’s personal opinion, but I will be determining if it is normal or not to consider joseph a gilf.

Gilfs can be objectively identified based on examining five main categories adapted from Moringer’s DILF test, the 5 Fs: Fatherliness, Face, Fashion, Physique, and Fpersonality. I will address these elements out of order.

1. (grand)Fatherliness

Joseph has many of the traits of a grandfather. he is of advanced age with many of the attendant characteristics, including visible wrinkles and grey/white hair. he is also literally a grandfather who is generally fond of his daughter and grandson. this part checks out. Joseph is confirmed for having (grand)Fatherliness in spades.

2. Physique

We have the ‘g’, but what about the ‘ilf’? the remaining four Fs will be decisive. Physique is foremost. 

Many people consider a ‘built’ or well-muscled body to be very attractive. Joseph has an extremely well toned physique, with broad shoulders and buff arms, despite his advanced age. He remains on track to be objectively confirmed to be a gilf.

3. Face

lets take a look.

he has a strong jawline, thick brows, big round baby eyes, lucious eyelashes, decently plump lips, prominent eye bags, a beard, and a stern expression. Many of these characteristics are often considered desirable. the indicators of his age do not entirely override his potential allure. But how do all the features combine? The final effect is mixed. It looks like his eyes were glued on the wrong face. his tiny little wedge nose is dwarfed by the rest of his features. but lets give him the benefit of the doubt and check out what he would look like without a beard, so we can analyze his features more precisely.

uh oh king.

4. Fpersonality

Joseph really thinks he is “all that”. some people find bravado enticing in a grandfather. others would prefer a more mature personality. Joseph’s main personality trait is that he has an abnormally high Thot Index or TI (Penn & Ashley, 2010). Is thottery attractive? that is beyond the scope of this post. he's also racist though which is a huge turn-off.

5. Fashion

Many of old joseph’s fashion choices are relatively conservative relative to his companions (and to his fashion choices in his youth), but the real question is do they look good. the one constant in his changing outfits is his hair and beard, so lets begin with that.

hm. not good.

the bangs are completely disgusting. it looks like there is a spider crawling on his head. the hairdo and beard are otherwise inoffensive. on to clothing choices.

wow, he managed to make a black turtleneck and trench coat look bad! thats truly unheard of. overall joseph dresses like a safari guide from a dirty video. thats not a good look. nobody should find that attractive.

Overall conclusion: joseph joestar’s high thot index can neither confirm or deny him for GILF, but his horrible fashion choices and ugly face override his bluffness and grand fatherliness. While Joseph Joestar possesses many of the common gilf traits, he is not attractive enough that he should be considered as a gilf. 

[whump-town]

Breathe In Breathe Out

Delayed Drowningc • Chemical Pneumonia • Oxygen Mask

He’s slept roughly four hours in the last two days. It occurs to him that today is Saturday and he’s got the weekend to catch up on that sleep. The thought washes over him like a calming wave and then a tight knot of shame forms in the back of his mind, a nasty voice sneering that he shouldn’t be so happy. His son is going to be gone the whole weekend. Jack’s going to enjoy being away from him. 

The apartment is going to be empty. 

Trudging through the living room, leaving the lights off, he manages to catch his shin on the stupid coffee table, knocking the remote onto the floor. “Fuck,” he curses, bending over to grab at his throbbing shin. His other hand rubs over the carpet, failing to find the remote where he’d managed to lose it onto the floor. With a roll of his eyes, he abandons the mission. 

Finding that damn thing can wait to tell he’s had some sleep. 

Standing, his knees give audible protest and he grunts at the pain spiking up his back. He’s old. Shaking his head, he rubs at his lower back, heading back to his room. He just needs to get some sleep. 

Nose diving into the duvet, he doesn’t so much as kick his shoes off. Getting to sleep is easy, he’s out the second he curls into his side. He’ll have to remember to thank Jessica for turning on the heat. The dropping September temperature hadn’t been on his mind when he’d stumbled out the door four days previously. 

But he comes home to a toasty apartment, a nice contrast to the fall chill in the air just outside his bedroom’s window. 

Groggily, stomach aching with a strange vengeance, he wakes some hour or so later. Time is a concept his fuzzy mind can’t grasp. With hands that feel twice their size and a body that feels too heavy to be his own, he pushes himself upright. Fumbling, he tears off his clothes. Simply letting his suit jacket and pants land in a heap on the floor. The buttons make his head throb but it’s muscle memory to work them apart. By the time the final one snaps out of place, he lands back on the bed. Too tired to hold himself upright but at least his clothes aren’t trapping him in anymore.

It feels like he’s just closed his eyes when he wakes with a startle, his entire body trembling. 

He rolls over onto his back, sweating lightly. He’s still bone-tired and when he turns his head to see the alarm clock on the nightstand he finds he can’t really see the numbers. Somewhere, on the floor, maybe, his phone vibrates where it’d fallen. His chest is tight, painfully so— his father had died of a heart attack not much older than he is now.

Is this how he’ll go?

Not with a bang?

He’d always expected to find himself looking down the barrel of a gun, as he had some many times before, and been unable to walk away. To crumble where he stood. Leaving his son and ex-sister-in-law to bury him in a closed casket. Forcing his team to carry him through the graveyard one last time. 

But…

He’d always hoped someone would be there. So his last thought would be of his family and not… not this painful coil of fear. 

Against his will, a tear falls down his face. He feels miserable. The back of his throat feels tight with nausea but he’s not sure he can stand. He wants so desperately for someone to come. He doesn’t care if it’s Dave with his frustrating muttered Italian or even JJ, who he knows would wrap the blanket at the end of his bed around his shoulders.

He misses them. Shivering and crying softly in his confusion, he wants so desperately for comfort. Eyes sliding shut against his will, the darkness and his anxiety overtaking him, he knows something is so desperately wrong but… he doesn’t know what.

Monday comes around without a hitch for the others.

In fact, for once, Emily Prentiss is ahead of schedule. She’s set to arrive at the office before JJ, not to toot her own horn or anything. When the elevator comes to a stop on the floor, she frowns. She’s used to the soft wafting smell of coffee greeting her and the lights up and down the hall being turned on. 

But it’s seven in the morning and she supposes maybe Hotch isn’t here yet. He always makes coffee in the morning. By the time she normally gets there, he’s got all three coffee pots going and the bullpen slowly coming to life under his nurturing hand. The man’s got the green thumb equivalent of whatever paperwork and federal agents are to plants.

This morning, it seems he’s slacking in his watering of the plants. 

JJ comes in ten minutes later, a bagel in one hand and a newspaper in the other. She’s scowling at the later, too busy to observe the too-quiet office and lack of Hotch going on. She does manage to stop her brisk walk the second time Emily calls out for her. “Yeah?” she shakes her head, she hasn’t had any coffee yet. “Emily,” she says shocked. “You’re here early.”

Emily nods her head, “I am.” Pointing up to Hotch’s dark office she deduces, “but Hotch isn’t.”

JJ glances up at the office and tries to stifle the immediate worry that consumes her. “Uh,” she shakes it away. “Jack gives Hotch some trouble on Monday mornings,” she rationalizes. Hotch had said something once about it but she’s just hoping, clinging to that idea. “Besides,” she adds, recalling this detail. “Sometimes they stop for a muffin or donuts. That’s probably just taking some time this morning.” 

Right, both women think as they go their separate ways, that has to be it. 

For esteemed members of the A team of the BAU, Reid and Morgan don’t notice Hotch’s absence until around lunchtime. Morgan realizes Hotch hasn’t been down to the bullpen for his second and third cup of coffee. Which he customary drinks leaning against one of their desks and arguing with Reid about whatever niche subject he’s devoted his time to this week. Morgan didn’t think that was something his day needed until…  

“I forgot Hotch isn’t here to make any more coffee,” Reid complains. He’s standing in front of Emily’s desk, his mug in his hands. She gives him only a second of her time, looking him up and down and shaking her head. He’ll grumble all day about how she and Morgan treat him like a baby and then he’ll stand here and pout because Hotch didn’t make coffee. 

Hotch has no personal obligation to make the coffee. They’re all adults who can make coffee. 

Reid shuffles his weight between his left and right foot. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

Yeah, she feels like snapping, the thought has occurred to her. First of all, Dave can preach all day about how it’s good Hotch has taken the day off, but in the years she’s known Aaron Hotchner he’s done that once. Once. And even then he’d left them an objective— a damn warning! 

“He’s fine, kid,” Morgan speaks up but he doesn’t look up from his file. A dead give away. He’d joked when he’d first noticed Hotch’s lights off but the light of his tone never met his eyes. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t said much of anything to any of them. Just sat and did his paperwork.

Derek Morgan never does paperwork.

Reid nods, glancing at Emily, but she’s lowered her head to her own paperwork. Okay, he thinks understands. With a nod, he goes back to the break room and makes his own coffee. Hotch will be back tomorrow, he convinces himself. It’ll all be fine… tomorrow. Hotch will make them coffee. Hotch will be here...

Tuesday comes with a southern downpour. The temperature drops dramatically and that chill follows it’s way into the building. 

“He’s not here,” Reid greets Emily. 

She’s running her fingers through her wet hair, glad that no one’s around to hear her cursing up a storm worse than the one blowing outside--- and by anyone, she means Hotch and his disappointed but not surprised frown. “What do you mean,” she grumbles, resigning herself to the fact that she wasted an hour in front of the mirror this morning getting her hair straight. 

Reid watches her with a mix of awe and curiosity but answers none-the-less. “Hotch,” he says, motioning behind them to the dark office. 

Emily’s fingers are caught in her hair, her arms twisting her damp hair back into a bun. “What,” she asks, having heard him but too surprised to say anything else. With the ease that comes from muscle memory, she snaps the hair tie around her messy excuse of a bun and discards her belongings on the floor. Headed for Hotch’s office.

Reid already knows what she’s going to find. 

He’d come bearing the book he’d been telling Hotch about last week. The plan was to surprise Hotch with the hand translated version. Reid had read both the version in its original Russian and the translated English version. After finding it less than adequate, he’d translated it himself. Today, he was going to give it to Hotch.

Only Reid had thrown his boss’s office door open and taken the cold chill of the empty room like a punch to the gut. Anxiety bubbling its ugly head up at the familiar, usually comforting, scent of Hotch’s cologne but his general absence being… terrifying. 

Seeing Emily react to the same anomaly, he’s glad this isn’t just some demonstration of his tendency to establish unhealthy attachments (it still kind of is but that’s not the point). The twist to her lips makes his heart rise to his throat and he shakily points to Hotch’s desk and the absence of any proof that Hotch might simply be elsewhere in the building. 

“What are we doing, my loves?”

Garcia’s on her own mission. 

It’s Tuesday, bright and early, and Hotch promised to revise and look into her eco-friendly idea about the jet and the paperwork. She’d given him an entire week to review it--- he could do it in a day but she knows he’s busy and stressed and she hates the idea of adding unnecessarily to that. 

She’s been looking forward to today since last week. It seems as if she never really gets to hang out with her boss anymore and the thought has made her so sad. Contrary to what he might convince himself, her love for that grumpy man knows no bounds. Just because he’s not as darkly striking as Emily or whimsical like Dave doesn’t mean he doesn’t bring his own things to the table. She’s really excited to hear him grumble about Strauss in that humorous, sarcasm so dry it cracks way only he manages.

Seeing his empty office upsets her beyond words. He’s the dependable person she knows. He wouldn’t just… “He promised,” she says, not even attempting to hide the fear. “Hotch doesn’t break promises.”

Yeah, that’s what they were afraid of.

Hotch could never see the similarities within himself reflecting into his son. Even now, as they stare so blankly back at him, he doesn’t recognize it. That eerie calm— Haley had always said he was like still water. A danger you never know is there until it’s too late. He could never wrap his mind around figuring out if that was a compliment or not. 

“I’ll come back after school,” Jack promises, the shaky undertone of his soft voice making Hotch’s chest tight. He’s afraid. Reasonably so. The poor kid goes away for a weekend with his cousins. He sets up a campfire with his grandparents. Listens to Aunt Jessica tell him about how his parents fell in love--- leaving out the bits about Aaron’s father and the way the entire town hated the idea of sweet little Haley Brookes getting with that troublemaker Aaron Hotchner.

He has so much fun and comes home to this...

Thinking about his father so young and his mother… for a moment he felt no different than the other kids. 

But he’s always been too much like his father for that.

Jack thinks the world will fall apart if he’s not there to catch it. Just as it had this weekend.

Jessica prays she can teach Jack the lesson Haley could never convince Aaron of, he doesn’t have to save the world. “Come on, baby.” Jessica pats Jack’s shoulder, it’s breaking her heart to have to tear father and son apart. “We’ll be here around three, Aaron,” she promises. 

Her words are lost to him. He’s watching them behind heavily lidded eyes. A nurse had said something about him not sleeping but Jessica had discouraged the idea of sedation. Aaron’s not sleeping for a reason and whatever that reason is, whatever he’s afraid of seeing, is worse than what’s going to happen if he keeps himself awake. They’d rejected her idea of intravenously giving him the medication he’d been prescribed to take as needed for his anxiety— so they have this unhappy medium. 

Where Aaron doesn’t sleep but he’s not losing it either. 

She presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead, “get some sleep, Aaron.” Pushing back some of his unruly hair from his face she can better see the sleepy eyes looking back at her. “I love you.”

Jack squirms uncomfortably. They’re pushing it for school. Another habit picked up of his fathers: the obsessive need to be places earlier than the required time. Jessica can forgive him easily for this but the teachers and the school have already expressed their understanding if Jack is late a few days. 

Not that Jack can extend himself that same courtesy— yet, another habit of his father’s.

She squeezes Aaron’s hand one final time in goodbye and takes Jack’s, leading him from the room. There’s no benefit in sending him to school right now. He’s not paying attention in class, anxious to get back here and make sure Aaron hasn’t died without someone here to constantly remind him what he’s fighting for.

They share a similar fear that in that room by himself Aaron will allow the world to consume him and he’ll just stop fighting. He’ll just die and leave them both. And Jessica had hated him once upon a time but he’s really the only family she has too. She loves Jack to pieces but she has no desire to raise her sister and brother’s son. 

She has no desire to bury Aaron. Not today, not tomorrow--- she’s done burying family. 

All she can hope is that Aaron understands that.

He watches them leave. Jack glances back only once, today he doesn’t silently sob as they make their exit. Hotch’s heart thanks the small boy for that, he can’t handle his son’s tears. It hurts so much more to know that he’s the reason his little boy is so sad. That fear of losing Hotch hasn’t gone away in the years since his mother’s death. It won’t ever really go away. 

Tuesday passes as slowly as Monday. 

He doesn’t eat the breakfast they bring him. Just as he hadn’t eaten the dinner or the lunch they brought him yesterday. While most of the symptoms have died down, like the headache and vertigo, but the trouble breathing and nausea have not abated. Giving him a nasty aversion to the food that already looks unappealing.

He can’t remember much of what happened. After falling asleep to the sound of his phone frantically buzzing he hadn’t woken back up for hours. He has a distant memory of a man in grey—a firefighter— pulling him upright. His legs and body limp and the whole world shifting as he’s lifted and carried out of his bedroom. 

He’d been one of the more severe cases. Exhausted from working for so long, he hadn’t so much as left the building for hours. Meaning while the rest of the building occupants went on about their days-- leaving for church or groceries or dinner plans-- he’d been left to succumb to the symptoms of carbon monoxide alone. 

A boiler in the basement had some malfunction, one of the nurses had told him. Hotch didn’t really care how it happened or why, he just knew he was glad Jack was nowhere near any of this. Even if Jack being home meant things not escalating to this point. Hotch can take the tight feeling in his chest and the difficulty breathing over anything if it means keeping Jack safe… Jack’s all he has.

At least, Jack is all he thinks he has.

The nurse’s face spreads into the softest, happiest smile David Rossi thinks he’s seen in days. The woman, hardly twenty-five, beams and clasps her hands together in her excitement. “You’re here for Aaron?” She motions for them to follow her. “He’s a sweetheart,” she tells them. He really is. Aside from giving her a hard time about his pain level and eating, he’s been her best patient. Never once rude or anything but the picture of calm. 

Well, he’s almost always the picture of calm…

“He’s had a bad day,” she explains simply, stopping in the doorway. She’d come in for what she was quickly learning to be her daily ritual of fighting with the man to eat something and found him sobbing. From there, the nerves he couldn’t control, lack of sleep, and anxiety going unchecked had bubbled into an anxiety attack. The end result—

Dave clears his throat, “is he okay?”

The nurse nods her head, “I stayed with him for a while. He’s just a little groggy. The doctor ordered some sedatives.” He hadn’t lasted long under their heavy influence and she’d checked in on him as many times as she could but he still wasn’t up yet. 

Maybe with his friends here though…

“Thank you,” JJ says, reaching out and squeezing the other woman’s hand. There’s a sad smile on her lips as she says, “we can’t thank you enough for taking care of him.” JJ has to look away before the tears pooling in her eyes spill over. “He’s a very stubborn man but--but we love him dearly.”

The nurse nods her head, sympathetic tears threatening to fall. “He talked about you guys,” so much so she’s fairly certain she knows each of them far more than she should. JJ is the soft blonde, stronger than she knows and still gentle. There’s Dave whose hardened scowl had thrown her off but now she sees the curious brow Aaron had told her about. The stick and bones genius Doctor Reid hadn’t been a hard one to figure out, just like the bright and dazzlingly beautiful Penelope Garcia. Leaving only Emily Prentiss, dark and serious. 

His family. 

“But really,” she says, excusing herself with one last glance at her friend in the room. “He’ll be very pleased you’re here. He never said it but he missed you.” 

Yeah, JJ smiles, that sounds about right.

They enter the room with a soft knock, as to not disturb him if he is sleeping. 

“Good morning, sunshine.” 

It takes hours. By the time that Aaron wakes up, Dave has already called and got the rest of them today and tomorrow off. Derek’s made two trips out for food-- lunch and then the snack that Reid was getting antsy about. Reid’s consumed three Poptarts and if not for Hotch’s eyes cracking open he’d be making for a fourth. However, Reid knows Hotch’s mood will flip like a switch and the last thing he needs is Hotch’s frustration being taken out on him. 

“Ach,” Dave swats at Hotch’s hand. His fingers failing to form a strong enough grasp around the flimsy plastic fo the mask to pull it away from his face. However, the idea is in his head and Dave doesn’t want him to just find that strength. “Something tells me that’s not there for decorations,” Dave says, pulling Hotch’s hand down to his chest. 

Hotch grumbles something, pale lips cashing in words that his lungs can’t check-out. Whatever is lost to his rasps or drowning by the mask is made up for by the eye-roll of angst he sends Dave. Which also loses it’s flavor when he starts hacking up a lung.

“Easy--”

Dave’s soft soothes go unheard and Morgan steps in, pulling Hotch up by his shoulders. There’s a split second where Hotch gags, the sudden movement causing intense nausea, but nothing comes up and he’s left coughing painfully into Morgan’s side. Needing the other man to keep him upright.

“You good,” Morgan asks. He’d picked up a soothing rub of Hotch’s back, moving his large palm in circles until the coughing died down. Until now, as Hotch just leans limply into his side. 

Hotch nods, “thanks.”

Morgan doesn’t go far, he stays close enough to help Hotch lay back down. His dark brows furrowed as his eyes move over Hotch’s strained face. He’s in obvious discomfort and it bothers Morgan to see him like this. “How are you feeling,” Morgan pushes, fidgeting with the blankets bunched up around Hotch’s waist. “You cold?”

Hotch turns his head into the pillows, nodding.

Morgan pulls the blankets up and fixes the mask half pushed off Hotch’s face. He smiles when Hotch just scowls but submits to the movement. Morgan bites back whatever comment he might make about Hotch being particularly grumpy today. It’s hard to believe that you could miss something as simple as someone’s grumpy mumbling but at the thought of losing Hotch… 

“You good,” Morgan asks, one of his hands on Hotch’s shoulder. “You need anything?”

Hotch’s glazed over eyes move over Morgan as if he’s uncertain if he’s really there. Hotch is still fairly under the influence of the sedative working its way through his system. So, his lazy, uncoordinated movement to dislodge the oxygen mask over his face is futile. “Itches,” he slurs, under his breath. 

It’s easier than it should be for Dave to pin Hotch’s hands to his chest once again, just pushing his wrist down. Hotch grunts a little, giving only a little resistance to hold. “Aaron,” Dave chides. “The carbon monoxide in your blood is still elevated so you have to leave the mask alone.�� 

The doctor had told them that when Aaron was emitted he’d stopped breathing on his own. The percentage of carbon monoxide in his blood a 48%— one of the highest out of the patients brought in from the incident at the apartment complex. High enough to kill him, as it should have. As it still could.

They’d been assured, upon arrival, that he’s doing exceptionally well considering. But it will take time for his blood to return to normal as it will take time for him to recover. Which he will, recovery that is. He has to. 

He always does.