#Some of them I thought of just now and some I've had in my mind for a while lol

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 15 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: What is inside the box?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, hinting of suicidal thoughts in the past, stalking, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

„Life. What even is life? An endless, pointless cycle of moments and memories which all serve the sole purpose of destroying my soul?"

“What is this?”

The words were barely even audible, but you could tell that he heard you nonetheless.

You tried so hard to focus on the box and whatever was inside, to be fierce and angry, but all you could truly look at was the bouquet in his hand. A giant bouquet of white roses, just like you had mentioned before. The innocence for which white roses stood, a heart that was inexperienced in love. The secret language of flowers. You had spent a whole afternoon explaining it to him and he didn’t laugh once, he didn’t even smirk. He had been so enamored with your words and the way your eyes shone and sparkled as you spoke about it.

And now he brought them home to you. Of course he did.

It made the pain in your chest grow tenfold. How was it possible? And why did you deserve this? What did you do to deserve it?

Why now?

Why not a month ago, when you had been confused and angry, sad and disappointed, covered in marks and an air of fear?

Why now?

He slammed the roses down onto the bed and rolled his sleeves up.

Did he wash his hands already?

He cracked his knuckles and suddenly you were sure these last few weeks had been no more than a fever dream. You saw yourself, motion- and lifeless, strangled to death by his beautiful hands.

But you fought. You fought so hard to let the anger win over your fear.

“What is this?”

He hummed softly and took a step closer, only for you to back away.

“Can’t you tell?”

You looked down at the box again. It was shaking in your hands. With a few quick, uneven breaths, you reached inside and began to pull out what would, no doubt, cause you nightmares, if you made it out alive this time.

“Is everyone born with a soul? Do some of us end up losing it during the course of our life? And is the soul even real? If it isn’t, why do I feel like I can feel it breaking? Tearing and crumbling? Every time she touches me. Every time she smiles and says it’s what’s best for me.”

The paper was the most prominent, for it was so big. It was crumpled up by a few times, like someone had read it in a fit of rage and attempted to throw it away - but decided against it.

Your cry for help.

You didn’t need more than two seconds to recognize the text. You had written it quite a while ago and you remembered the day vividly in your mind. Sitting at your desk in your childhood bedroom. A storm had raged outside, like it did every so often and you found yourself crying silently, feeling the suffocating weight of your mothers abuse. After she finished punishing you with the belt for what felt like hours, she stroked your hair in a way that was almost affectionate and whispered: “My dumb, stubborn girl. This is for your best. You should know better than to defy me again.”

She then locked you in your room and you spent the next two hours lying on your stomach, crying into your pillow. Every movement was painful and the depression came crashing like a stone rain. The loneliness was the worst. After eventually you stopped crying, because your tears ran dry, you closed your eyes and imagined, how beautiful would it be? How beautiful would it be, if someone came and rescued you. If someone came and loved you.

Loved you to death.

“The darkness surrounds me like a grey cloud. And I want out. Out, out, out. Please, Lord, let me out. Let me swim in the abyss of darkness and send me a dark prince to swim alongside. Let him be broken, like I am and I promise I will set him free. Let others call him overwhelming, let them call him suffocating. Let them call him all the bad things in the world. I care not. I don’t want for his love to be easy. Don’t let him love me conveniently, passively. Let him devour me whole. Let his soul consume mine. Let him be all-consuming. Let him end me with his love. Let me be his and let him be mine. All mine.”

You spent hours of your childhood and youth daydreaming like that. But the outcome was always the same.

You, crying and alone in your bedroom, sobbing to yourself, because no one loved you.

And no one ever would.

Normally, you’d fall asleep after a while. But not that day. The pain was intense and the humiliation that came with it was even worse. You considered watching a show, but even that felt impossible. Reading? Oh, no. You couldn’t bear it. For once, the lovely romance didn’t bring you any comfort, because it wasn’t your own. It only ever reminded you of how you wouldn’t get that kind of affection. That attention.

That love.

Ever.

So, instead, you moved to your desk and began to mindlessly hit the keyboard of your laptop in an attempt to find some comfort in the words. You poured out your heart and soul, because it was all that you got that would keep you from dreaming of dangerous things.

Once you finished typing and you read over the lines, you did something rather odd. You logged into the website, on which you’d normally be no more than a silent reader, a quiet mouse in the walls, a fly, observing and merely existing. And for whatever reason, you really couldn’t tell, you pressed the upload button.

There was your text, your soul bled onto paper. You stared down at it and…

Nothing.

For another hour – nothing.

And eventually you gave up.

No one would read it. No one would understand it. And no one would rescue you.

You parked it in the back of your head and forgot that it existed.

It wasn’t until three months later that you began to work out a plan, apply for jobs, book a flight in the hopes of finding a reason to live, somewhere across the globe.

And when one of the companies actually considered you – it wasn’t the greatest job, but it was a job and it was a real opportunity to leave – you immediately agreed. You ended up destroying the laptop in case your mother found it and tried to find you as well.

“Where did you get this?” You hissed as you stumbled to your feet, the paper crumpled in your hand. He sighed softly and approached you with tiny steps.

“Don’t you know how the internet works, darling? Once you publish something, it belongs to the depths of the network.”

Your frown deepened. “But why do you have it?”

He raised a brow, something akin amusement dancing in his eyes. “I didn’t think that’d be the thing that spooked you the most.”

“What do you-“

All it needed was a short glance down at the box and you felt your blood run cold.

Oh God, this was even worse than you thought. Far worse.

You swallowed, but your mouth felt dry. With a shaky hand, you reached down and carefully touched what remained in the box.

Your driver’s license. So far, so bad. You had lost it a few months ago or so you thought. Somewhere in the streets of Seoul. But did you really? You had asked yourself more than once. Why would you have lost it? You hadn’t driven a car since you came here. You took the bus, the train or you walked. And so you saw no reason to carry it with you, wherever you went. You were sure you had left it in your apartment, in-between credit cards and important papers, which you still needed to sort out. But why would it disappear from the safety of your home? It made no sense. You didn’t want to be paranoid, so you simply told yourself you had lost it.

And there it was.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest.

You had lost it, months before you even met him. But this wasn’t even the worst part.

No. The horrifying part was yet to come.

There it was – tiny, little you. Cheeky and toothless, not older than four or five. Your father had still been alive then, that was the reason you still held that spark, that gleam in your eyes. Youthful and alive. Happy, even.

A normal girl. Unbroken.

You remembered the tiny photograph. For whatever reason – it couldn’t be love – your mother had kept it. The picture had its place in the living room of your childhood home, right above the chimney. And there she was, staring up at you - the sweet, little brat that you once had been.

Somewhere in the middle of South-Korea.

And it hadn’t been you who took that picture with you.

He had been there. He had been home. He had been in the fucking house.

Back in the day, when you gathered your most necessary things, you didn’t care about tokens or childhood memories. No, you only took what you could wear, eat or pay with and then you left in a hurry. There were no things like childhood pictures. You were sure this picture belonged somewhere in Yorkshire.

A ring from your jewelry box, a near-empty lip gloss you had worn only for yourself, a hair clip, a teddy bear and was that…

Oh, God.

You stared down at the pair of panties that you had worn far more than once in your life. He hadn’t taken that from any cupboard, had he? The faint blood-stain was self-explanatory.

A wave of nausea caused you to shudder and gasp out. You pulled your hand back like you had been burned and the paper fell from your hand.

He was still standing a few feet away, watching your reaction carefully. He obviously hadn’t hoped for disgust and fear, but that was exactly what covered your expression.

“Oh, God.” You whispered breathlessly. Your blood was rushing loudly in your ears and you stumbled backwards, until your back hit the wardrobe. “Oh, God.”

“Don’t panic, alright? Let me explain.”

“Explain?! What is there to explain?! Did you- Were you in my- Fuck!”

Your hands were shaking furiously and you tugged on your own hair, hardly recognizing the pain as such. The real pain was in your chest and stomach. The real pain stood right before you.

“Let me explain.” He said more firmly and took another step closer, ready to free your hair from your bruising grip.

You backed away and stared at him with wide, crazed eyes.

“Stay the hell away from me!”

He exhaled slowly, obviously to calm himself down. He was pretty good at this now. After all, he hadn’t hit you in weeks. But now, he seemed pretty tempted.

“Calm down.” He gritted out. “Shut your mouth and let me explain.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine and suddenly the curtain was lifted again. This was one fucking Joe Goldberg worthy moment. Just that not even that guy had been twisted enough to follow his victim around the whole globe…Or had he? You hadn’t finished the show yet. And you probably never would, after all, you were as good as dead.

“Why?” You heard yourself whisper.

He ran his hands through his hair, leaving it messy in his frustration. He then took a deep breath and loosened his tie.

Oh, he would strangle you. Creative.

“It…It’s complicated.”

You frowned. Ever since you got here, you hadn’t ever before witnessed him get so…flustered? Embarrassed, even. What on earth was this?

Was he even truly angry?

“Speak.” You hissed out. “Speak, or I swear to you, I’ll-“

He raised a hand to silence you and it worked. Your anger only went as far and the fear won. There was obviously still something inside of you that fought for your safety. Your sense of self wasn’t entirely dead. Only beaten to a pulp. An unconscious one.

“I read your text.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I’m a sinner and I’m not a good person. The thoughts I have, they’re dark and bad. Too bad for anyone to understand, except for the lonely, broken souls which yearn for the same freedom that I do.”

Now it was you who took a breath to calm yourself. Fucking idiot.

“I then…” He groaned in frustration and kept stalking closer like a predator. “I hacked your IP-address. I found out where you lived.”

The wave of nausea became more and more apparent, leaving you gasping and near retching. You felt your mouth run dry and the room spin around you.

“I saw the pictures on your computer.”

Now, that was what caused you to stumble and your knees to give in. He immediately rushed forward, ready to catch you, but you backed away against the other wall, like a caged animal.

The pictures…

The pictures were for no one but yourself. Just a silly girl, trying on her mother’s dress and playing dress-up in her room. You remembered how the dress made you feel. Pretty in a way…but also restrained. You remembered the way your eyes glistened in the photos. Pretty, but sad. What had made you so sad? The way the dress made you feel. And the way you were so sure that you would never, never feel beautiful in a dress.

Never feel confident.

Never feel desired.

“And then?” You croaked out.

“And then I paid you a visit.” He said quietly.

“Dear Lord, I was already on my way to you. How many times? I cannot count. And what kept me here, what kept me? The hope for my dark prince to come.”

“I sat in a fucking Honda for near two days. I hid behind the hillside, so you wouldn’t get suspicious. A few times, I was sure someone would call the cops on me, but no one ever did. No wonder. Your next neighbors lived like a whole mile away. I remember getting so angry and thinking to myself, doesn’t she ever leave the house? But that anger quickly disappeared, when I finally saw you.” He smiled wistfully and tilted his head to the side. His smile seemed oddly genuine and not twisted at all. Unlike the rest of him. “Your mother was walking in front of you and speaking to someone on the phone. I remember thinking that you look nothing like her. She radiated such confidence, but not in a good way. More like…More like someone who takes up all the space in a room. Who sucks out all the air and doesn’t care that she leaves everyone else to suffocate. That bratty make-up and the way she swayed her hips and wiggled her ass around like a dumb dog. Repulsive.”

He sounded so angry.

It left you feeling oddly confused…and somehow comforted. Your first reaction was to be angry and horrified, because he followed you and stalked you all the way back to England. But the way he spoke about your mother, it made you feel so…seen. It was exactly how you saw her. So, you just stood and listened.

“You were different.” He hummed softly. “You looked so fragile compared to her. Like every step you took was a high risk. I didn’t understand it. I kept thinking how beautiful you are. Sad, sure. But beautiful. I kept asking myself why you wouldn’t see that. What a waste.”

Your heart was racing in your chest. It didn’t make any sense. Not a single word that left his mouth made any sense. His actions were a lost cause anyway, but his mind was worse. Whenever you felt like you understood him, he quickly made sure you didn’t. And now everything was different. All that was gone, right? He was a fucking stalker.

He was a murderer. You knew that since you first met him, knowingly, but at least he was open about that.

This, right here. This was a lie. A big, messed up, mean lie.

“None of this makes any sense.” You somehow choked out. “You read a text I wrote and saw a picture of me and that made you travel all the way to England? And why are we- Why am I here? Did you-“

“Let me finish.” He was now close enough to reach out a hand and touch you, but he didn’t. There he was again. The man who was so strangely adamant not to force himself on you.

Was there a reason for that? Would he ever tell you?

Your chest heaved rapidly with every breath you took. You knew there was no way out, except right through. So, you nodded.

Lord, help me.

“All I want is for someone to love me…and to love him in return.”

“I went inside and…” He glanced at the box and smiled to himself. “I know I went a little overboard, alright?” He sighed softly. “But can’t you see it? We’re made for each other.”

“You’re a stalker.” You said quietly. A part of you feared his reaction. But another part of you, the stronger one in this case, feared something else far more.

No matter what he did to you so far – he always seemed clear about it. He had never once come off as confused. Sociopathic, maybe. But he knew what he was doing. He knew that he abducted you. He knew.

But in that moment, something seemed different. And that scared the hell out of you.

He was insane. Of course he was. But his eyes were open about it.

Instead of striking you though, he smiled. A soft smile, with soft eyes. He then reached out a hand and carefully brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your back against the wall behind you.

“Don’t be scared.” He said quietly. “Let me finish.”

You kept your eyes closed, but you nodded slowly.

“You wanted someone to rescue you, didn’t you?”

That made you frown and your eyes shot open.

“But that wasn’t you. I made it out of there on my own. I found myself a job. I booked the flight and I left on my own. That wasn’t you.”

He smiled in a mixture of amusement and something else. “Are you sure?”

That gave you pause. “What?”

He sighed softly and kept his gaze fixed on his fingers, still playing with your hair.

“Didn’t you ever ask yourself why you got the job so easily? No interview needed, nothing. They just hired you. Some little girl from England with no experience, except for what she learned in school.” He spoke calmly and softly. And you felt another shiver run down your spine, but not in the same way as it did, when he kissed your neck.

That memory suddenly seemed awfully distant.

Did that even really happen?

“What are you talking about? How would you-“

He shot you a long, suggestive look, his lips twitching treacherously.

“My computer.” You said quietly.

He nodded. “I told you, darling. It’s all in the network.”

“But how did you make them hire me?”

“It wasn’t that hard. Enough money can buy you anything these days.”

You swallowed. “Alright. So, you bribed them to hire me. What else?”

He hummed, feigning thoughtfulness. “Your mother came home late the day you left, didn’t she?”

Your eyes widened. “Is she-“

“No.” He said firmly and slowly shook his head. “No. She just had another client, unexpectedly.”

You took a deep, shaky breath. You were a horrible person. Your thoughts were dark and came from a bad place.

“Good.” You whispered. He raised a brow, like he didn’t believe you. It wasn’t too hard, he could read you like a picture book.

You glanced down at the box again. “So, you were in my house. My computer, my job. What about the rest?”

He smirked and looked down for a moment. “You have something specific in mind, don’t you?”

“Didn’t you care about the blood?” You didn’t know why that triggered you so much. Almost more so than the job. Maybe he had altered your brain chemistry so much, that you now thought insane things to be normal. Twisted ways to be expected. Bad to be good.

“You think I’m scared of a little blood?” He bit his lip and slowly shook his head. “Me?”

You wanted to laugh. It was so ridiculous. Everything was. This whole situation was so sick and at the same time, he was cracking jokes?

“Did you forget that my own desires are rather twisted?” He sighed softly. “I just wanted to be close to you. To feel you. And that was all I had at the time. Except for that one time in your apartment, of course.”

You tried to swallow, but the was no saliva. You tried to breathe, but there was no air.

When you saw the driver’s license, you had assumed as much. But you had also assumed that he had broken in, while you were at work or anywhere else. Not at home.

“Where was I?” You whispered shakily.

“Asleep.” He murmured. “Like an angel.”

You closed your eyes and held onto the wall, but this time he didn’t let you back away and instead he caught you. He pressed his palms against your hips and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Careful.” He whispered.

“Did you…” You swallowed heavily. “Did you touch me?”

His calm expression turned into a frown and he pulled his head back to get a better look at your face. “No.” He said in a tone of voice that made it obvious how offended he felt.

“Forgive me!” You snapped back angrily. “How silly of me to assume!”

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, but he took another slow breath to calm himself down. Whatever he did, it was working. His expression relaxed.

“I didn’t touch you.” He said quietly. “I just watched you for a while.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

“What?”

“Why did it take you so long to…” You gestured around the room.

He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I didn’t want for things to go this way. I wanted to…to meet you. To speak to you. To take you out for coffee maybe. But…I just…”

You listened to him with a patience that surprised you. Of course you wanted to be angry with him, because you knew, despite the mess in your head, that would have been the right way to react. And you were angry. But you weren’t really angry, because he broke in or followed you. Because he stole your things or pulled the strings of your life like you were some dumb puppet.

You were angry, because he never told you about it.

Because he lied.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

His head snapped up and he met your gaze with obvious disbelief. “What?”

You nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out by myself.”

He frowned - and for the first time ever since you had met him – he was truly speechless.

“I trusted you.” You said quietly, without taking your eyes off him. “I accepted your sick bullshit, I took everything you gave me. I forgave you every thing you did to me – to my body and to my mind. I trusted you. And you can’t trust me in return. Why not?”

“I was…”

“Afraid?”

His dark eyes widened and he pulled his head back like you had slapped him. “What? No. Not afraid.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, feeling far angrier than you expected.

“You slapped me. Punched me. Threatened me. Made me feel like I’m worthless. You deprived me of food, water and goddamn privacy. You ignored me for weeks. And I still forgave you. But you couldn’t even tell me the truth about who you are.”

“Stop this.” He hissed.

“You don’t care for anything except yourself. The only reason why I’m here, is because you thought I was pleasant to look at and pliable. Did you do this more than once? Do you always do it like this? Collect your poor victims online? Is it always people like me, with no family and no one to miss them? Or are some of them more lovable than I am?”

“I’m warning you.” He gritted out between his teeth, his gaze flicking from the floor to your face and back.

“The only reason why I’m here is because you wanted to fuck and me and eventually get rid of me. If I didn’t agree willingly, you would have just taken what you wanted, just like that man-“

“Shut up!” He rushed forward and grabbed your shoulders, pressing you against the wall with, what seemed to be, all his strength. His grip was painful and his movement rough, but the sound of his voice was anything but. It wasn’t an angry exclamation. It was a man, more desperate than you had ever seen before. “Shut up! That’s not true! It’s just not true!”

Your heart skipped a beat and you swallowed thickly. This was either really good or it was fucking bad.

“Then why am I here? Why me?”

His breathing was going shallow and his eyes were wide and almost frightened. It was a sight you weren’t used to at all. He was normally either composed or angry. But never this desperate, never this vulnerable. Not even that one time in the kitchen. Even back then, he kept a semblance of composure, but in this moment, he was too far gone. He looked like he was in pain, like he was aching and you were the reason. This time, though, you couldn’t stop. You needed answers, you needed something.

“Why me?” You whispered again, fighting for air.

“Because I-“ His brows furrowed in a mixture of anger and desperation, while his gaze scanned your face restlessly. He looked like he was on the verge of exploding, of dying, of crumbling into a cloud of non-existence.

“Say it.” You whispered. “Just fucking say it.”

When he still didn’t reply and instead just kept staring at you with those wide, uncertain eyes, it suddenly became too much for you.

“You owe me the truth!” You snapped in a fit of anger. “I did everything for you! I accepted everything! And also, for God's sake, I'm not an idiot! I can tell that there is something, something you want to tell me but your just too afraid to! I don't understand what it is and why it's so hard for you, but, fuck, things are hard for me, too! Despite all this, I never tried to leave, because I didn’t want to! I stayed here, despite everything and you can’t even bring yourself to tell me why you-“

“I love you.”

“Love me unconditionally, love me to death. Love me with his last breath. And I promise you, I promise, I will love him just the same. I will die for him and I will live for him. Let him murder my soul and I will kiss his hand. Let him bathe in my blood and I will apologize for the mess. Let him be as he is, let him be dark, let him be hurtful. Let him suffocate me and I will forgive it. Just let him love me as I am.”

There was no affection in his words. None at all. He bit them out like a curse, like another man would have a degrading slur. The hiss in his voice was all too apparent and so was his anger. There was no affection. Only pain.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care though. All that you cared about was…

“What?” You breathed out.

He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on you. Killing someone wasn’t nearly as hard for him, you could tell.

For a good ten seconds, you didn’t care about the way he said it. But then you suddenly did. And you also cared about the way he couldn’t seem to look at you.

Was he bullshitting you?

Had he just said that?

Was this some kind of twisted mind game?

“No, you don’t.” You nearly spat out. “You don’t even know me.”

His eyes shot open and the look in them was all but terrifying. But again, you didn’t care. You had long made peace with death. That was probably one of the main reasons why you stayed with him and did everything he asked, why your sense of self-preservation left you so early.

You were his girl, after all.

“I don’t know you?” He spat out in return.

“No, you don’t. How would you-“

“Your favorite colors are forest green and apricot.”

He was bullshitting you. It was a mind game.

“Do you really think a stupid color-“

“You never had a boyfriend. Just one kiss. A lost bet. You had your first real crush in High School and it was your teacher. You’re afraid of sharks, but you love orcas. Your favorite food is anything Italian. You hate alcohol. Your favorite book is Wuthering Heights. You favorite season is spring. You favorite musician is that Indie woman and I keep forgetting her fucking name, but you know who I mean. With the long, dark hair. She sounds like she’s crying in every song and she keeps referring to Jim and no one knows if she’s singing about her ex-partner or the drink. Your favorite actress is Sharon Tate. You’re afraid in the dark. You like being called darling. It sounds like something someone would call his partner in a stable relationship. You love Fred and Ginger. The nineteen-twenties are your favorite decade. You prefer Fitzgerald over Hemingway. You cry when you cum. And you love it, when I kiss your neck and call you sweet names, while I’m slowly ripping your body apart. You’re too ashamed to say the word fuck, in any normal situation, but you’d say anything, anything at all, when you’re in the right mood. You wish your mother was dead and you hate yourself for thinking that. One of your biggest fears is birthing a child. You want to write a book. You’re religious. You forgive far too easily, even a sick bastard like myself. You’re-“

By the time he got to the point of mentioning your mother, you felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over you. And suddenly everything was too much. His grip was too tight, the air was too little, your heart beating far too fast.

You didn’t. You didn’t want her to die. You just wanted…just wanted to be free.

Was that the same thing?

Were you horrible like that?

You didn’t even realize you were starting to hyperventilate, not even when he loosened his grip on you and gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Hey.” He whispered. “Hey. Stop. Stop.”

Hot tears ran down your cheeks and he quickly wiped them away with his thumbs.

“Look at me. Look at me.”

He gently tipped your chin up and then wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest and gently running his fingers through your hair.

“Shh.” He made softly, as he gently rocked you back and forth. “Shh. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He whispered.

He was a stalker. He was sick. He was dangerous.

And he knew you.

And he loved you.

He still loved you.

He knew your flaws. And he loved you.

He loved you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and clung to him tightly, like a child, desperately seeking the comfort and warmth only he could give you. His grip on you tightened and he nuzzled the top of your head, mumbling gentle reassurances and sweet nothings against your hair.

It took forever, but eventually you calmed down.

He made you calm down.

And he loved you.

He cared about you.

And he loved you.

He knew you and he loved you.

After a while, when you finally managed to gently free yourself from his grip and slowly pull your head back, just enough to look at him, he didn’t cower. He stared right back at you, his eyes red-rimmed and his expression softer than ever before.

He was a different man.

You couldn’t tell what it was. But it was there.

It wasn’t just a better mood, a better day, a shift in his demeanor –

It was him. He was different. A different man.

But somehow, he was still the same.

The way he looked at you was the same. Only softer.

The way his eyes shone was the same. Only wiser.

He loved you.

“Do you really mean it?” You whispered, with the innocence of someone who was inexperienced in love.

He bit his lip and briefly glanced down at the floor, before he met your gaze again.

“I mean it.” He whispered back, with the softness of someone who had no idea what love even meant. His lips hovered right above your own and suddenly he didn't seem so bitter any more. "I love you." He whispered against your lips. "I do."

For you, he seemed willing to try.

He would do anything, wouldn’t he? Because you would.

Maybe he would even love you to death.

“Let him love me.”

He loved you.

_______________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @rlmiku

Author's note:

The most important things first:

Thanks to the lovely @thelastofkryze for the plot twist, because pookie came up with the stalking thing!

And thanks to the wonderful @muchwita for being a grand inspiration of the toxic love part in the letter ("Let others call him (...) love me conveniently, passively.")

Our man's being soft for a reason, guys!

I love you all! 🤍

[magickizu]

Phantom Contingency Plan

Crossover dp x dc, with hinted dead on main. So I've got this little time line I have in mind for my own crossover AU and this is a snippet of it. Will post more of it; might make a master post too at some point. For now, the prompt:

After something happened and the Phantom-Squad (Danny, Ellie, Dan and Jazz) had to reveal themselves to the batfam, Bruce calls up Danny and tells him, now that he thought about it and in the least offensive way possible: how likely is it for the Phan-Squad to "go rogue". Danny is silent, a thought filled, contemplating silence. "... I'll come by the cave tomorrow eve at 8pm."

P.s.: sorry if the batfam becomes too much ooc, I grew up a marvel-child and just recently became invested into dc. pwq

"This is absolutely ridiculous, B!" Jason, in full Red Hood get up, was leaning against a support beam. He just can't sit right now. This idiot really just straight up decided to go and ask Danny for their weak points! Instead of going the normal route of collecting information, to expand the contingency plan alone- like it was supposed to be!

"As if any of them, who's very core is actively making them protect, save and help- literally!!- would just go against it and harm themselves with it." Why Hood was this adamant, about the Nightingales? Okay, yeah, maybe it does have something to do with him crushing on Danny, the moment he made the pits fall silent for the first time... But why the hell would he ever say that out loud!?

"It may be in their instinct, but you can never be sure what happens when that person breaks." Nightwing, who leaned on a nearby table. He talks calmly, but stern. His expression shows the hint of unease even he feels; the Nightingales have come to Gotham in an attempt to flee from someone. Someone who's set on hunting them down and hurting them, they're basically refugees. It doesn't seem 100% right, definitely. But the "what if"s are too big of a risk, none of them got any idea of what they're truly capable of.

"Bullshit..." Hood crosses his arms, looking away. His helmet is off, just the domino, so his muttering comes out as just that.

"Hood, please. Nightwing is right. As much as they want to help, you know it's for the best. Not even Constantine could think of something." Barbara sat next to Batman, as she turned to face the boys.

"Wait, what?? You can't be serious! Even Gandalf the Blond didn't know??" Nightwing looks at her incredulous. The redhead shook her head, but a slim smirk formed on her lips from the nickname.

"That doesn't excuse anything-" Hood got cut off by the notification that someone was coming in through the tunnel.

For the first time since the others came in, Batman moved from his seat at the batcomputer. He turned towards the tunnel entrance, where the roaring of a motorcycle can be heard. While Barbara and Nightwing seemed surprised, Hood could somehow, probably through his now healing core, sense it was Danny- which in turn just sent his head reeling a bit and his heart fluttering a little. Batman just checked the clock; the moment Danny brought his bike to a halt, next to Jason's, it was exactly 8:00pm, as promised. The ghost king really does keep his word, that's good to know.

Danny wasn't wearing any padding: no sturdy jeans, no leather jacket, just his usual get up and the black helmet with neon green accents. Crazy dangerous for a normal living person, but what could possibly happen? He's already dead, plus more sturdy anyway and untouchable when he wants to. Plus he's got the heightened reflexes, to use his abilities timely. ...which honestly just made his entrance, like- Wham!

Nightwing whistled impressed, "Damn dude, you're making little wing real competition, looking all cool and serious like that." He smiles, still impressed. Barbara just gave him a look that said, to keep his mind focused. In turn Nightwing answered with a look that asked, why it's only him and to look at Hood. Who in all fairness just was completely entranced by his crush looking extremely awesome, which made him incredibly hot. Well, at least until-

"Jay, stand back." Danny said, well... more like softly commanded, right as he took his helmet off, hanging it onto the handlebars. Said vigilanty did as he was told, without questioning. If it could harm Danny, it will harm him.

"Thank you, for not only your understanding, but your quick response, as well as trust to not misuse this. We really appreciate it." The Bat said in his low, serious tone. Danny nodded, giving him a similar facial expression.

"And thank you, for appreciating the afford." He grabbed two silver suitcases: one was flatter and the other looked more like a box. The moment he stepped closer to the table Nightwing was sitting on and where Hood was still standing, albeit a little off now, Hood became a little paler and suddenly feeling a bit weaker and uncomfortable. As if something underneath his skin began itching, somewhere inside. Danny's gaze shot towards him immediately, after setting them both down.

"You okay?" He asked, the concern visible in his eyes. The man's feet took him over towards Hood, the moment he was approximately 2 meters away, Danny shook and rubbed his arm. Probably to stop the same feeling Hood felt.

"I'm- ...yeah. I can handle, just uncomfortable." He chose to be honest, knowing, hearing and feeling the concern emanating from his core. But he nods, then stands himself next to the taller man.

Meanwhile Batman, Barbara and Nightwing stood themselves around the table in a half circle around the suitcases.

"The thicker case is filled with blood blossoms. Do not open that one, unless it's happening. These flowers have anti-spectral properties, they not only harm us, can occasionally break haunts and ghostly curses, they can and will kill ghosts and ghost-adjacent beings through exposure alone. Especially in that quantity." He begins to explain and Jason shifts slightly, shuffling one step away, trying not to make it obvious. Nightwing and Barbara look on in shock, even Batman has to take a deep breath.

"But aren't they just a fairytale? Constantine had mentioned them, but also said that they come from old folklore. Medieval times, when Christianity wasn't even that known. And aren't they supposed to have anti-supernatural properties?" Barbara questioned and it's true. John told Batman about them, but added that he didn't exactly know if it wasn't just some old folklore and not to put his bets on it. He knew of the infinite realms, sure. But Ghosts explicitly? Not that much..

Danny nodded. "They are as old as humanity and they have been used in countless traps and banishment rituals. It's just that..." He grabs his neck, thinking of which words to use and letting his usual self finally slip through. He's been practicing explaining things, this definitely put it to the test. "Hmmm... Okay, uhm... It was said that they have anti-supernatural properties, because quite a few ghosts were mistaken as other supernatural creatures. For example... Yetis!" He snapped his fingers, smiling proudly to himself, that he came up with it that fast.

"Yetis...?" Nightwing asked completely flabbergasted. "Pfff... Bigfoot also a ghost? Ow-" He couldn't help himself, but got a slap on his arm from Barbs, who glarred daggers at him.

"Yes and no, Bigfoot is actually a spirit of sorts, but not really. He just wants to be left alone, man. And yes, Yetis. They are ghosts of the far frozen and spirits of ice, the cold and healing. Because they're technically ghosts, they'd be affected, but they don't exactly look like your conventional, stereotypical ghost. So people just forgot about them due to monotheistic religions, because instead of blaming vengeful, violent and malevolent spirits, they became demons. Which lasted not that long after exorcisms and prayers became a thing." Danny explained.

"I see... So that's why Constantine didn't know for sure." Batman nodded. Hood got a stool and sat down a little further away- was this what kryptonite felt like to the supers? He made a mental note to never tease them about it again... In the back of his mind and in his chest, he can hear- no... Sense a chirping. It's Danny sensing Hood's tense unease. The smaller ones core calling out, //it's okay//will protect//save//. It did help a bit though and Hood's grateful for that.

"And this one?" Nightwing pointed at the slimmer suitcase, intrigued now.

"Those are regular ecto-blasters. They just shoot ecto infused lasers- completely harmless to anything living. The only thing it does is to inconvenience or harm a ghost, but they're mostly non-lethal." Batman nodded again, opening the case and inspecting the guns. "If you need more, just say so. I used to use them constantly, so I still got quite a few on the shelf." He crosses his arms, for comfort. But Hood's attention was drawn more to the 'used to use them'. Danny wheelded harmful 'mostly non-lethal' weapons for a while, so that also implies that he knows how to turn them lethal... Why?

"If that is possible, I would be most grateful." Batman said, holding eye contact with Danny, who in turn nodded.

"I'll drop them off tomorrow, then. You'll need to recharge them with both electricity and ectoplasm. Don't ever let them run low, tho or it will back fire on you. Not pretty. When you aim to stun: hit wherever besides the chest, it regenerates. But when you aim to harm and injure: aim for the core. It's, you guessed it, in the middle of the chest. Even if ghosts can regenerate, just empty the thing and keep firing; the amount of ecto we lose, is too much to heal against. Especially because we need said ecto to heal in the first place. And don't be surprised: ghosts melt. We don't turn to ashes, get sucked away to who knows. We melt into ecto." Danny answered almost immediately, stunning the birds and Oracle. But the bat only nodded, containing his own curiosity, as he closed the case and readied them to carry away.

- - - - -

"Danny! Talk?" He turns his head towards Hood; both sit on their bikes, standing next to each other. The traffic light glowing red, when the taller man calls. Then after a few seconds of silence, Danny looks around and motions for Hood to follow.

After some more explanations in the cave, on how to most effectively use each weapon and tool against his very own life and leaving the two birds as well as Oracle stunned silent, Hood decided to ride along. Since he has to go in that direction anyway, might as well ride with Danny and spend more time. As the light turns green, Danny nods and leads the way. After another 10-15 minutes of silent driving they get to a quiet viewpoint in a more abandoned area of the neighborhood. They come to a halt and the taller is the first to speak,

"Just... Just out of curiosity. How come or well, why were you so, I wouldn't say eager but, so... fast to respond? Not even the League members reacted this... How to put it, ready? Collected? Hell knows, they didn't nerd out about their weaknesses. So-"

"Jay, tell me: how much do you trust yourself?" The smaller man takes off his helmet and hangs it up on the handlebars again. Hood sighs and does similar, leaving only his domino mask on, as he leans against the railing, next to his king. He shrugs.

"I guess... talking about confidence in my skills and how to use them? Yes. Yes, I do." But the electric blues only look over the city skylines, he nods.

"No, I mean in yourself." So naturally Jayson's breath hitches, when these eyes suddenly stared into his. "Your ability to control your emotions, when the worst happens and push comes to shove." He takes a deep breath, his gaze flicking from the other up to the sky. Surprisingly it's a clear view of the stars. And again Jason decides that a) this man has so many more secrets, than he already thought and b) it just adds to his enchanting mystique and liminal beauty. Oh damn, he fell hard and deep.

"I mean... The pit-rages stopped, when we began training, but..." That's when realisation hit him. "...I don't know. No."

"...and I do know, that I won't." Jason looks at Danny almost immediately. His small, growing and healing core rumbling with //confused//what?//. Danny sighs heavily: "the last time it happened, I developed new powers again and apparently declared war to the conspiratorial wing of the government, leaving nothing but death, destruction and a crater the size of Wayne Manor's property line behind. I wasn't even at full health. I've also seen what happens, when I let my anger win and that was from a point where I was about 10 years weaker than I am today. It was a wasteland of a world, didn't even see the justice league there, so..." Danny's hands slip from the railing to hug himself, Jason just stares stunned and in shock, trying to buffer the words and sounds the other one makes. Said one smiles weakly his gaze never leaves the stars, as if they're giving him some form of comfort or answers only he can read. "...emotions are more than natural for ghosts, we're literally made by them. The will to survive, the need to protect and help or ... The boiling rage to avenge." He finally gave Jason a small glance and encouraging smile. "Really it's only natural. But that's also why I'm so hellbend on teaching you to control yourself. The more your core heals,..." He reaches out touching Jason's chest and his heart skips a beat. Gods he hopes the other doesn't notice, but he doesn't react so that's good? "The more you will feel and the harder it becomes to regulate. But... I got the feeling, you'll manage." He smiles and pats Jason's chest, then he turns back to the stars. His smile slowly fading. "...but if things happen, that'll make me lose it for good? I'd prefer to be taken out clean before another 'reign of terror' Happens."

They're silent, Jason has to process what he just heard. Danny more so as it still looks like he's listening to the stars sing, however that's possible. But hey, that's the Nightingale's ever since they showed up: anything but normal. The bigger one finally huffs, "So... You're really a big f*cking fish, huh... Your siblings that powerful too?" The other shrugs, yes and no. "Damn... Well, I definitely hope that it'll never happen. ...would absolutely suck to lose you." He glances at the other, just barely to try and get a sneak peak at him. But Danny just smiles softly, eyes closed. That's when Jason can sense the chirping from Danny's core again, //appreciate//you too//love//.

...wait. Wait, hold on!-

"Welp, was nice but I gotta go now. Jazz is probably done with dinner by now and they're waiting for me." The smaller turns to walk towards his bike, patting Jason on the shoulder and back again. "I'll see around, Red Guy. You know where to find me." He winks cheeky and puts on his helmet and like a phantom into the night, is gone. Jason still stands there...

Did he... Did he really just understand... Love? No, wait again! Danny and his siblings too always say, that ghosts are very sensitive to emotions and can read them off of- ...

...did Danny knew from the very beginning...?

[cherrycranes]

Private Show (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female reader Summary: You're a burlesque star who caught the eye of the infamous Tommy Shelby, and one night after your show he decides to pay you a little visit backstage. Word count: 3,292 Contents: (Minors DNI) Unprotected sex, hair pulling, semi public sex? pull out, cum shot. Author's notes: Once more, my bestie @fuckiingloser and I collaborated to make this. Give her some love! I've had this in mind for quite a while now so I hope you enjoy it. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. ILY!

The roar of your beloved London audience followed you across the backstage hall. You were a star. A burlesque princess adorned in sequins and rhinestones, enamouring the audience with your unique presence and charm that got you where you stood at this very moment. Adrenaline coursed madly through your veins, mapping out every inner crevice of your risqué scarlet costume. Another job well done. Another night of the glory of bright lights, music and performance.

Every single sound got muffled out right after you entered your small private dressing room. A privilege of being the main attraction. No more snarky comments and unhealthy competition between a stressed out dance troupe. It was just you in your velvety stool, admiring your own self in the vanity mirror. What a beautiful woman. Carefully, you removed your feathered headpiece and let your hair down in relief, finally winding down.

You removed your bracelets and hairpins, carefully placing them in their respective decorated boxes when a soft knock on your door interrupted you. Definitely the stage manager, you thought, already picturing what he would say to you about your next show. To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you met with a completely different man…

Thomas Shelby, in all of his infamous gangster glory standing right in front of you, that signature cheeky smirk upon his devilishly handsome face. 

He looked like he wanted to swallow you whole. 

You knew of this man. The Shelbys had risen to power throughout the years and now, anyone with a working brain knew who they were. The name Tommy Shelby made many shudder, and now, you had him just a step away. 

“Can I help you?” You looked straight into his perfect blue eyes, fearlessly. You owed nothing to anyone and you had no reason to cower in front of him, no matter how dangerous or handsome he was. 

“I don’t know, love, can you?” His smile grew a bit, his voice was husky and rich in a Birmingham accent. He didn’t bother to conceal the way his eyes roamed all over your scantily clad body, so beautifully adorned in red jewels and feathers and so deliciously leaving little to the imagination.

“Backstage is private, you know…” You pretended to chastise him, leaning against the doorframe like you didn’t have a feared criminal shamelessly checking you out. He didn’t even try to hide his intentions. He laughed a bit, your heart raced. No security could ever stop him from doing what he pleased and you both knew it.

 “I've seen your pretty picture on flyers all over town…  Figured I’d come see what all the fuss is about…” He remarked as your eyes locked on each other finally. 

“And?” You asked with a pretty smile. “Was it everything you dreamed and more?” His smirk grew to a big grin. He knew you were a tease, feeding him with playful banter that he absolutely enjoyed.

“You were a sight to behold out there, love… Body like that, face like that and voice like yours… I’ve never seen anything quite like you… You were a goddess up there.” Thomas practically purred to you in that thick accent that made your pussy tingle and sent shivers down your spine. His tongue, quick yet unmissable to your eyes, wet his lips after speaking. So subtle but incredibly sensual. You wanted to drop down to your knees…

But you also wanted to make him work for it a little…

Charmingly, you invited him in for a drink. An irresistible offer. You shut the rest of the world out and closed the door behind him. Just you and him in your little shoebox dressing room. He sat down on the small futon across from you and you sat at your vanity, pouring you two glasses of whiskey from your secret stash. The room was so tiny your knee brushed against his when you spun your stool around to face him and hand him his drink.

“There was buzz amongst the other girls of a Shelby brother in the crowd tonight…” You started, lipstick staining your glass and your legs crossing. “I was hoping it was you…” Thomas smirked like a devil, your admission feeding his ego. 

“And why’s that, love?” He took a large sip of whiskey like it was a sip of you, savoring the burn like he wanted to savor you. It made you nervous, restless… And you were a performer, your nerves were supposed to be of steel. But Tommy had something about him, an aura, a natural disarming confidence that made you want to bow down in submission. You swallowed a bit, just to gain some confidence back, knocking your head out of the trance his accent and icy blue eyes put you under. 

“Well you’re the leader right? The big man in charge…” You charmed through your smirk like he was your audience, looking over at his crisp, expensive navy blue suit. Tommy laughed, pulling a cigarette out and rubbing it against his plump bottom lip before lighting it up.

“That’s right…” He smirked, a puff of smoke adorning his words. He leaned forward a bit, his large calloused hand finding its shameless way to the exposed skin of your knee and rubbing it softly with his thumb. Naughty girl, not even wearing a pantyhose for your performances. A mischievous glint shimmered in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help but bite your lip and clench your legs together at his touch. The sexual tension hung thick and heavy in the air of your tiny dressing room, threatening to burn you both alive. 

“I'm known for getting what I want… When I want it, love…” There it was, expected yet it caused a strong reaction in you. The closer he leaned in, the more he spoke with that deep voice of his, the more you wanted it. He stabbed his cigarette out in the ashtray next to you on your vanity, your faces now inches apart. 

“And I'd love a private show…”  He whispered, his voice raspy. His hand reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed over the red jewels on your breast, nearly feeling the pulse of your racing heart. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear from just the thought of what he wanted to do with you. To you.

“I'm not a whore, Mr Shelby…” You retorted softly, finding pleasure in resistance despite how turned on you were for him already. Tommy, accustomed to most women giving in easily, smirked, thrilled by the challenge.

“But you could be, couldn’t you? Just for me…?” His voice was attractive, persuasive. One of his hands came up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, his eyes bearing into yours deeply. There was always something so captivating about a man with no shame about getting what he wants… And this man just so happened to want you.

Hungry eyes moved from your alluring cleavage towards your gaze again. You had found yourself completely speechless at his proposition, not even a single witty comment popping into your head at that moment. For a second, you got lost in the crystal blue, enthralled by the obvious knowledge of what would come next for you both.

Without another word he sat up and leaned forward, closing the gap between you. His plump lips met yours, the taste of cigarettes and whiskey melding in your mouth. You closed your eyes, letting him sink you to the depths of his desire, your tongue melting slowly against his. You took your time with each other, just soaking in the sensuality of it all, sharing a few gentle moans before his hand came up to grip the back of your head.

You made out slowly, almost teasingly for around a minute, then finally pulled back for air. There was that smirk again, Tommy reveled in as his hand snaked between your thighs and his thumb rubbed gently over the satin of your costume, right over your pussy. He pressed against your clit through the fabric and you bit your lip, stifling back a moan.

He took in every single detail of your reaction and loved each one. You felt a nice shiver running down your spine as his mouth came closer to your ear.

“You little minx… This little pussy’s already wet for me and all I had to do was kiss you…”. His hot breath on your ear mixed with his words had your brain buzzing, expertly knowing how to push your buttons.

Soft kisses peppered the skin of your neck, sending another shiver through your spine and goosebumps all over your body. His rough, greedy hands reached back to undo the fastenings of your costume, then gently pulled it down your chest, your warm tits finally bare for his eyes to rake over.

“Jesus… You are just gorgeous…” He rasped, unable to stop himself from tracing the soft underside of your breast. Not that he would have to stop. But even then, for such a rugged, scary gangster, he was so gentle. So reverent. It truly took your breath and words away, filling the now empty space with butterflies instead. From your chest to every nerve ending of your fluttering pussy, a deep need for him ran rampant. 

“You've got me rock hard…” Tommy whispered, proudly proving it to you. His growing bulge in his trousers looking right at you, mirroring your own desire. He rose slowly, looming over you and your vanity set.

“Stand up for me love… Let’s get this costume off you,  I need to see this beautiful body naked and bent over this vanity for me…” 

Your eyes widened, but you weren’t against his request. Without thinking it twice, you stood up, one of his hands slid off your red satin costume bottoms, the other took your hand and helped you step out of them. The metallic jeweled necklace around you felt heavy with all the loss of clothing items, you reached behind to unclasp it, but Tommy stopped you.

“Keep it…” He whispered, slowly turning you around until you faced the mirror of your vanity. You looked utterly gorgeous. Completely naked besides the beautiful ruby necklace you had on. You watched his smile widen in the reflection and his strong arms wrapping around you.

One hand came up to squeeze the soft flesh of your breast, the other now traced slow tempting patterns over your skin, down your stomach and between your legs. One finger rubbed between your slit tortuously slowly, making you moan and close your eyes. You melted against him, perfectly placing your ear close to his hot breath. 

 “Ah ah ah… Keep those pretty eyes open… I want you to watch yourself fall apart on my cock…” Tommy purred, his voice so deep and sexy you wondered why your arousal wasn’t dripping down the inside of your legs already. Obediently, you nodded and opened your eyes, locking gazes with yourself in the mirror. 

“Yes, sir…” You moaned back, his fingertip rubbing painfully slow, hard circles on your clit. He grinned, proud of just how easily you yielded to his touch, how easily you submitted yourself to him.

Slowly, he grinded his aching hard-on against you back, a reminder of what was to come. Gentle, wet kisses left a fiery wake on your neck that extended to your earlobe, he nibbled it, his finger never once forgetting your clit.

“Bend over…” He commanded, a little whine of protest leaving your lips when he withdrew his finger from you. Hoping to get that much needed stimulation back, you did as he said, bending over your vanity and displaying yourself for him. Tommy responded with the sound of his belt unbuckling and the rustling of his trousers being undone. 

In the reflection of the mirror, you watched him pull down his trousers and briefs in one go, his large thick cock springing free and slapping obscenely against his pelvis. Its head was already red and dripping, aching to be buried deep inside you.

Not wasting a single second, he palmed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart a bit to get a better look at you and your puffy wet folds. He groaned, knowing that in a few minutes his cock would be buried deep between them.

He looked up into the mirror, locking eyes with you and giving you a sexy smirk. It was an unforgettable image, with you laid there, bent over your vanity panting in anticipation. The lighting of the room cast a warm glow over your naked body, making the rubies around your neck glimmer. 

“Looks like it’ll be a tight fit love… But we’ll make it work… Won’t we?” He cooed, voice dripping with need like you were dripping wet for him. 

You nodded, your eyes on the mirror, paying close attention to every movement of his and hoping it would lead him closer to fuck you. The way he licked his lips, how he reached down to line up behind you. It all seemed so slow in your own arousal-clouded mind. When he gripped your hips, you felt relief, and when he finally started to sink into your dripping center, you moaned. It was a breathy, soft moan with a grateful undertone. Such a sweet relief after centuries of teasing and foreplay. 

Tommy groaned loudly, one part for pleasure, one part for being proved right. You were indeed really tight. Your pussy stretched and swallowed his aching cock, already feeling so full and he still hadn't pushed all the way in yet. You whimpered, getting split open further like never before in your life. Any discomfort from adjusting to his length and girth completely outshined by total and complete pleasure.

“Fuck me… This pussy is so perfect… Gripping my cock so fuckin’ good…” Tommy groaned, managing to push even further and finally filling you full. He gave you a merciful second to adjust before moving his hips, slowly pumping in and out of you.

Involuntarily, your eyes shut, moaning repeatedly for him in this newfound sea of pleasure. You felt his hand tug around your hair hard, your neck craning up to look into the mirror. A warning. Remembering, your eyes shot open, you whimpered like an apologetic prey to the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“I said… Keep those eyes open…” He growled, stern eyes looking at you through the mirror. As discipline, he pistoned his hips faster, you whined loudly. He drilled into you relentlessly, skin slapping with fury against skin and filling your changing room with obscene noises.

“Y-yes sir…” You managed to moan out, noticing how the pale blue of his eyes never once left the reflection of your deeply fucked form. Your mouth hung open, your eyes were half lidded and struggling to follow his command. In your mind, every single thought disappeared, all of them fucked out of your head until only him remained. 

The thick tip of his cock nudged that special spot inside you, over and over with every perfect, hard thrust of his hips. You babbled incoherently, still watching like he wanted. Your reflection bouncing and jiggling with each hard and fast movement. 

Tommy smirked, but even through his triumph he was lost in the pleasure too. He panted hard, his fingers sunk into the flesh of your hips and made sure there would be evidence of the encounter tomorrow morning. As if you minded. 

The vision of you falling apart on his cock got to him in the best way possible. From the way you were moaning to how you almost drooled as he fucked into you hard. It was obvious you weren’t going to last much longer, and neither would he.

“Jesus Christ-  This pussy’s so good- I think it was made for me… Won’t last much longer…” He groaned to you, a hint of vulnerability escaping in between the words.

At this point, your body and mind had a major disconnect, so well fucked forming a coherent sentence took all your brain power.

“P-please… please come..” You stuttered pathetically, eyes fixed on his reflection. His hand tightened its grip on your hair for leverage as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier, his strong hips pistoning into you. 

His left hand left its vicious grip on your hip and snaked around to find your clit, beginning to rub hard circles on it. The combination of his long cock poking your g-spot with every thrust and his fingertips rubbing your clit had you seeing God… Your orgasm built in the pits of your stomach, threatening to boil over any second now…

“I want you to come first love…  Want this perfect pussy to cream all over my cock…” He rasped, his voice deep and thick with need, almost like he was begging you to.

And that’s what did it for you.

The pressure in you finally reached its peak and exploded into the best orgasm you had ever experienced. Every nerve of your body relented to the sinful pressure, making you cry out a string of loud whiny moans and mindless curses. Your pussy clenched him tight, like you never wanted to let him go. For a moment you disobeyed his previous command, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head and lost track of the private show your reflection in the mirror was giving.

He moaned loudly, feeling you clamp around him. The satisfaction of seeing the reflection of your face contorting and twisting in pleasure was priceless, Tommy truly understood just how much he loved to see you fall apart for him… Because of him…

He fucked you through your orgasm, chasing him. The feeling of your pussy spasming around him had his usually crystal clear mind completely hazy with pleasure. The way you looked, sounded, felt… It was too much for him… So much it sent him over the edge.

His hips slowed their movements a bit and it hit him.

 “Oh fuck love- I’m coming…” He warned with a strangled moan. Quickly, he pulled out, shooting thick hot ropes of his cum onto your ass cheeks, eyes still focused on the mirror. 

You watched too, biting your lip at the feeling. Tommy’s brows furrowed together while he moaned for you, his warm load slowly dripping down your ass and taking over your senses. You both stayed there for a second, catching your breath, basking in the afterglow together.

After a while, Tommy tucked his tired cock back into his trousers, grabbing a shirt off your vanity and wiping you clean. You finally stood up, turning around to face him despite how weak and wobbly your legs felt. Being bent over your vanity felt like forever, although it was the fastest a man had ever made you finish.

“Well, that was certainly something…” Tommy smirked cheekily, eyes still on you and arms wrapping around your naked waist. You couldn’t help but laugh and blush a little, his presence alone making you feel so shy, as if you hadn’t been moaning like a whore for him just a moment ago.

“You really do put on one hell of a show, love. You’re a natural born performer…” He smiled at his own words, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours before giving you a hot kiss. Then, he pulled back, just enough to whisper his proposition against your lips.

“How about we make this a regular thing? I come to all your shows… Maybe even bring you flowers… In return you be my naughty little showgirl and let me fuck n’ fill that perfect cunt and make you scream?”

You smiled without even having to think of your answer… How could a girl say no to that?

Pinterest board made by @fuckiingloser

Random Tommy playlist made by me cause why not

[nottriddlethis]

pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Ravenclaw!reader

summary: Mattheo has always been annoying you. So since when did the things change?

warnings: smut, oral (male!receiving), dirty talk, language, 50/50 soft!Mattheo🤷🏻‍♀️, use of pronoun 'I'

author note: dedicated to all these tiktok creators, I love you with all my deepest💞🔥 Green - Mattheo, pink - you.

. ✦ 「 ✦ me ✦ 」 ✦

It always pissed me off how Mattheo Riddle could be so perfect without trying. No, the fact that he was related to a bloody villain who had practically built a new world on bones certainly cast a shadow on him, but he handled it masterfully. He was perfect at Quidditch: dexterous movements, strong back and arm muscles. (all these girls surely were delighted, and that made me even more irritable) And if only that! He had not only strong magic, but also a bloody sharp mind. I bet he would have been the best in grades if he had cared even a little bit about it. As a Ravenclaw, the squandering of such a gift infuriated me almost from our first meeting. And I probably would have let it slide over time, if he hadn't looked at me so condescendingly, so relaxed and so… his way. If he hadn't always inserted his idiotic phrases and smiled so annoyingly wide.

He's been around all the time, barbarically stealing my peace and thoughts.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Mattheo ✦ 」 ✦

Your name is the first thing that would come to my mind if I were asked about pleasure. The pleasure of seeing those brows drawn together in anger. The pleasure of making those lips purse in irritation. The pure pleasure squeezing my cock when you scream at me, your cheeks flushing and your chest heaving wildly. Up and down, up and down. Just like my hand, which would give me pleasure much later.

Because teasing you - is the sin I'm going to die with.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Potions project ✦ 」 ✦

"If you wink at that Gryffindor one more time, I'll brew you into an impotence potion," I whispered sharply, pressing the Potions book hard to the table. His arrogance is unbelievable.

Mattheo chuckled faintly and leaned back lazily in his chair. "Are you jealous, beauty?"

I swear, I've never rolled my eyes so hard before. "I'm annoyed. That's not the same thing."

Mattheo pretended to be deep in thought, tilting his head to the side.

"So, I annoy you?"

"Wow, how did you guess?"

I continued writing, not interested in the conversation anymore. Mattheo, of course, didn't let up. He lazily ran his fingers over the pages of the book. I glanced at how his arm muscles flexed at the motion. Big and strong. Big and strong? I slap myself out of these thoughts. Mattheo then leaned closer, as if he was about to say something really important.

"You know," - he lowered his voice a little, so that I felt the warmth of his breath on my fingers, and I even cocked up my ears, "I think you spend too much energy resisting my charm."

I looked at him from under my brows, my lips pursed involuntarily. “No, I'm just too smart to be seduced by you.”

Mattheo froze, looking at me, and then… smiled. Widely, slyly, with some strange, deep interest. I kept my gaze on him longer than usual because... I've seen him smile many times but now something hot spilled from my chest. The rest is required. Let’s finish this finally. I stood up, collecting the books and getting ready to put them back in their places.

“I know,” - he said quietly behind my back. “That's why I'm crazy about you.”

I felt the heat spread even more and blossomed in my cheeks. I was about to say something harsh, but for some reason… for some reason my lips trembled slightly in a smile. I walked further to the shelves to hide my confusion. Flawless bastard. I felt his self-confident grin behind me.

"Still," he yelled, leaning back in his chair, "Impotence potion won't break me, not after I've seen you."

The students turned to snicker at his shout, and I smacked him over the head with my Advanced Potions Course.

"Keep it up, Riddle, and I'll brew you something else."

"Like a love potion?"

"Oh, aren't you already in love with me?"

I rolled my eyes, but the lack of his usual humor gripped my heart in a vice.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Charms project ✦ 」 ✦

"Is it some kind of ancient curse bringing you to be my partner in every possible project?" you muttered, and as my own ritual, I was enjoying your narrowed eyes, the beautiful wrinkle on the bridge of your nose. Right up until the moment when you slammed your bag on the table and threw off your robe. Damn Merlin would have turned around in his grave. Pure Witch.

I overheard you mutter something like "barely made it after a shower" and deservedly praised the creator of muggle clothing. The blue top with wonderfully thin straps hugged your rounded breasts and outlined your waist. Do you think it's not enough for a rock hard cock? Think again.

You sat down at the table and the mounds of your breasts were almost next to my drool-filled mouth. Just an arm's length away. Bin-go.

"You know, you could work at Mungo's…", you looked up warily at my words, and I continued, "well, treat impotence, for example." "Mattheo…", here was a beautiful blush on your cheeks and liquid fury in your charming eyes. Pleasure when you always switch to my name when you are furious. I watched you leaned on the table and bent over. Breasts pressed against each other from the pressure. And my cock definitely felt it too. "So, judging by how much you mention this disease, it is something personal, right?"

"And will you help me?"

You demonstratively sat back and pulled out a parchment from your bag. This project will be just as long.

***

"… you still double-check my every word. So what's the point of writing?" I tore my gaze from your thin fingers clutching the quill and moved it to your eyes. Of course, stopping my gaze on the cleavage along the way. An absolute gorgeous.

"I just won't include your name in the work," you said seriously. And a smirk determined my next steps. One wave of my hand, and I leaned closer to inspect my work. Your quill, which had just been supposed to write down a list of counter-curses, wrote in my handwriting: Mattheo Riddle.

You frowned. Crossed out the name and tried again.

Mattheo Riddle.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you turned sharply to me. "You." How I missed your attention, beautiful.

"Me?"

"Stop it."

"Stop what" I leaned closer, looking at your scribbled sheet. "Oh, my. Apparently your body recognized me before your brain did."

And for about 10 minutes, you tried to disenchant the quill. With each unsuccessful - literally all - spell, the quill wagged its tip and its feathers slapped your cheek.

"If only you'd used half that power of yours to study…" you threw your hands up in indignation. I watched as your breasts jumped with the movement. How loudly would you scream if I bit them now? How deeply would you blush if I pulled that damn top down? How angry would you be if…

A sly smile spread across my face. I looked up, catching your movement. Just as your fingers closed around the quill, intending to break it, I jerked my hand, whispering a spell.

And I was ready to undo in my pants as soon as the tip of the quill rested against your round breasts. You froze, looking at it. It came letter after letter, and it felt like a measured jerking of my cock.

Mattheo Riddle.

Black on your breasts.

And the last thing I remember before I managed to run away from the rage in your eyes is your sweet open mouth, incredibly red cheeks and neck, and the most fucking hard nipples sticking out under the fabric of your top.

. ✦ 「 ✦ Astronomy project ✦ 」 ✦

I had washed off the ink long ago, but for the second week in a row, every time Mattheo Riddle looked at me, my chest burned and I felt every letter of his name. It burned in a way I would never admit, as behind the closed curtains of the bed, I ran my hand over my chest, shuddered, and went lower and lower. And only when I came silently on my hand - imagining his broad forearms, muscular back, and dirty whispers - did the burning calm down.

Tonight, the Astronomy project was separate for everyone and everyone finished closer to 1.30 am. We were sitting at low round tables with food, specially organized for late practices.

The damn feeling that Mattheo knew everything tickled me from the very beginning. He sat at the next table, constantly smiling at Blaise and completely ignoring me. Worse, his body was clinging to a single black T-shirt. And then, as if sensing my gaze, Mattheo stretched - invitingly, slowly - flexing his muscles, and exposing a strip of skin above his belt. For Merlin's sake! I turned away, but only to notice unpleasantly that I was not the only one who appreciated his actions. The girls were devouring him with their eyes. I pursed my lips. Don't you look at him. Just for a second I imagined if Matteo became tired of all these jokes for me, and one of these girls would capture his attention instead. Jealosy washed all of my feelings off.

I came to my senses when I was poked in the side and I heard Mattheo calling. He was looking at me attentively and holding a bowl in his hands. "What?" I whispered with my lips only and managed not to smile.

There were strawberries in the bowl. "Damn delicious. Just like you." Mattheo saluted me with the bowl and groped with his other hand on his desk. I felt the usual tension in my chest, my thighs moved together, my pussy clenched. But I didn't have time to answer him.

"And this is me," Mattheo raised his other hand and deliberately slowly poured thick white cream into the bowl. I watched without blinking as the viscous liquid dripped, came into contact with the pink strawberries, mixed and filled everything.

Gasps of surprise and confusion came from all around, and I could literally feel the girls staring at us.

So keep your eyes open then. I reached for the bowl and snatched it from Mattheo. I looked only at his eyes - blackened and insolent - and brought the bowl to my mouth and took a few sips. Pink drops ran down my chin from the edges of the wide bowl.

It was pure pleasure to watch his eyes open, devouring my movements. His mouth parted and a heavy breath escaped it. He couldn't help but understand my hint, as I did his. I would have given him 100 points for his clenched jaws, and all 1000 for the bulging veins on his tense hands.

Only one thought was troubling me at that moment - if only after the lesson there wouldn't be wet traces left on the fabric pouf under my panties.

. ✦ 「 ✦ - pre-quidditch? ✦ 」 ✦

The irritating tension of the final cup match almost reached the level of irritation at the lack of you. Malfoy doubled the training, Zabini scheduled free time to study strategy. Although the only strategy that worried me was 'how to finally get you'. Undoing three times in a row that night only because of the thick drops on your chin didn't seem enough. The cock throbbed to be inside your throat.

Two hours before the match the mood was furious. I last saw you at breakfast, talking to Nott about something. That's where the rage started. Well, that's pretty nice fuel for an important game, I decided, walking last to the team's locker room. The last thing I expected was to be suddenly pushed into a spare and dark room. The whisper of a locking spell reached for my ears. My cock recognized that whisper before I did and twitched. The whole world went off as I watched you go down on your knees. Am I already the winner?

. ✦ 「 ✦ - pre-quidditch. ✦ 」 ✦

I saw how Mattheo's eyes widened in surprise as I suddenly pulled him to the wall and sank to my knees before him. A light blush spread across his pale cheeks, highlighting his shock at my bold move. Perfect. Perfectly Mattheo Riddle in his tight quidditch uniform towered over me distracted and vulnerable. His breath hitched in his throat as my gaze met his, a flicker of desire mixed with confusion in his dark eyes.

"D..don't think I don't like it but now.., beauty?" he stammered, his usually confident demeanor cracking slightly. Despite his words, his hips twitched forward almost unconsciously, drawn to my proximity. I rolled my tongue over my gums in anticipation and studied him.

He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His hands hovered uncertainly at his sides, itching to reach out and touch but hesitant to some reason. The dim candlelight cast shadows across his toned chest and abs, visible through his partially unbuttoned team shirt. Merlin help me, he is so flawless. Puppy eyes for such an arrogant nature.

His eyes flicked down to my lips, then back up to meet my gaze. The air between us was charged with a new kind of tension, a mix of flirtation and vulnerability. I licked my lips slowly and almost approach them to his pants' zipper. Mattheo let out a heavy breath, his hands clenched into fists. I ghost the zipper outline with my lips, feeling his groin was already rock hard. I licked it with a tip of my tongue. All along.

His primal groan sent shivers down my spine right into the already soaking pussy. His hands flew up to grab me but..

"Touch me and I'll stop, Riddle"

"No, you bloody witch..." Mattheo pleaded but obeyed. His hands fell to his sides, and he closed his eyes to seek some control.

A pleasant choked moan escaped his swollen lips as I boldly undid his pants in few swift motions, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. Sweet, so fucking sweet finally. It sprang up, already leaking precum from the purplish head. He shuddered, seemed to fight the urge to guide my head down.

"Fuck, please, beauty... if you keep this up, you're going to be the death of me," he panted, his voice strained with desperation. His hips twitched with the need to thrust into hot mouth.

As my hand wrapped around his thick shaft and stroked him, Mattheo couldn't help but let out a loud, wanton moan. His cock pulsed and jumped in my grip, the veins along the underside throbbing with his racing heartbeat. Despite his desperate moaning his words still raw and seducing, "Ohhh fuck... ur fuckin little fingers feels s' good...but bet your little pink pussy is tight even for them."

My pussy clenched in responce, sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. "So think about how your cock will be tightly squeezed inside", i teased him.

His only answer was my groaned name.

That's when I reached forward and took him fully into my mouth at once. Mattheo threw his head back and let out a desperate, whining sound that echoed through the empty room. His cock hit the back of my throat, and he had to bite his lip hard to stop himself from rocking into this heat.

"Shit, ur mouth...'s every lustful thought I had," he panted, his hips rocking slightly as he tried to restrain himself. I loved how his moans are mixed with bold words, "Suck me just like that, you naughty little minx... Fuck, I want to touch you so badly, to grab your hair and fuck your pretty face until you choke on my cock... but I'll be good, I promise, don't stop beauty.."

I enjoyed. Enjoyed as...

Mattheo was practically sobbing with need, his voice a desperate wreck as he fought to obey my rule. "Please, I've been waitin so long for you girl.." The sounds of his moans and whimpers bounced off the walls, a lewd symphony in the dim light. He was utterly at my mercy, consumed by lust and craving my touch. So good, Merlin, so good. What took me so long to fall for him? So noisy, so desperate, so pleading.

So, I sucked him off so boldly and fast, taking him all for myself. Enjoying every inch of his arousal, touching his pelvis with my nose. Damn Mattheo Riddle was finally getting what he was crazy about. And it made me even more wet between my legs. I tortured him even more, gulping him fully far down. Then licking only his swollen head. Repeated that. Repeated. Mattheo's eyes rolled back in bliss as I focused my attention on the sensitive head, swirling my tongue around it and lapping up his leaking precum. The teasing was driving him absolutely mad with lust. "yes, beauty, 'es... just for once 'm gonna be a good one.."

Then I finally whispered those two magical words - "Touch me" - and Mattheo didn't hesitate. His hands flew to my hair, gripping it roughly as he finally allowed himself to thrust widely into my eager mouth. He set a fast, almost punishing pace, his heavy balls slapping against my chin with each pump of his hips.

"Hell yeah, fucking witch.. my little hussy," Mattheo growled, his voice ragged and desperate. He pulled my head up, forcing his cock deeper as he chased his rapidly approaching orgasm.

"'m gonna fuck ur mouth 'til you can't breathe, 'til all you can taste 's my cum. Drink it all down like the greedy hussy you are." And then his hands were more rough in my hair, his hips thrusting more wide.

I was suffocating. But it was nothing because I had not eaten anything since yesterday evening, I could now take him without any particular obstacles. I plot it enjoyably. The gag reflex perfectly bypassed his cock. The small room filled with the obscene sounds of his flesh slapping against mine, mixed with his guttural moans. Wild, desperate, whining my Mattheo. A few more furious thrusts later, Mattheo let out a long, low groan that seemed to come from the depths of his being. His cock pulsed and throbbed violently before he slammed deep into my throat and came abundantly. Sticky, warm, lovely seed flowed down my throat while he trembled and cursed non-stop.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, ma beautiful chippy...fuckin long s' fuckin long 've been waitin for you" His voice, his body were shaking after orgasm, mouth spitting out unconscious links of words.

As the last spurts dribbled out, Mattheo collapsed down to the floor, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His grip on my hair loosened "Ohhhh fuck... only dreamt abou..." he stopped mid-word because I kissed him fiercely, licking and marking his lips. I was so horny, so needy for his touch but he had to win this match, so I pulled away and stood up.

His eyes watched as a thin, shiny thread of my juices hung from under my skirt to my knee. And he, still sitting on the floor, reached up and licked it off my knee with his hot tongue. The shiver of subsequent events after the match made me bite my lip.

"The winner will take all." His voice was low and confident. I knew - he would do both:

Win this match right now.

And take me then.

[starsinmylatte]

I saw your dilf Veritas post and listen I had to hop in cause I am so damn hungry for this man istg

Anyway, I don't think I've seen anything in regards to the moment when Veritas loses his cool for maybe even the first time in his life. And that's the birth of his child. He has knowledge on birth and all about it but with that comes the knowledge about all that could go wrong and bro is stressing 🥲 he wants his beloved partner and his precious baby safe and sound and healthy. He also hates to see his partner in so much discomfort throughout all this

I have failed my fellow HSR cuties bc I have been HOARDING some delicious content in my drafts while waiting for the hyperfixation to return. Everyone thank @delirious-donna for pinging my last brain cell and reminding me that hoyoverse still exists 🙂‍↕️💕

Anywho..... Back to our scheduled simping!

Veritas is the man who always has a logical plan or a well-thought-out answer to everything. He is aloof at most times, able to step away from any situation happening in front of him so that he may analyze and produce the best course of action. He prides himself on his ability to organize his thoughts and process his feelings according to logic, oftentimes being the only person to take charge during emergencies. That is, until you wake up in the dead of night to find that your bedsheets are.... strangely damp? Oh shit.

Being the chronic over-planner, Veritas had your due date neatly penciled into his calendar for precisely two weeks from now, so when you tapped at his shoulder rather urgently, he was decently confused. "My darling, I know cravings are intense, but eating at this time of-"

You cut through his raspy, sleepy drawl- the same one you'd heard groaning obscenities against the shell of your ear as his son was conceived-" Veritas, the baby is coming."

His head twitched, raising off the pillow as if he needed both ears to hear what you were saying, "I, I apologize, but it sounded li-"

"Veritas. Get the bag. Our son is coming."

For the first time since you'd met the man, you swear that you can hear the subtle clicking of Veritas Ratio's mind running as he processes a set of data. During that particularly pregnant (ha) pause, you heard one distinct tick as he registered the condition of the bedding, and then the father of your child was immediately out of bed vaulting across the room.

A choice string of vehemently hushed obscenities falls from his lips as he snarls in frustration at all the extra fucking buckles on his goddamn pants that he's never noticed before and-

"Dear, just keep your sweatpants on. Just find a shirt and some shoes first, and then grab pants and shoes for me."

Your clear voice stops his thoughts on a dime. Of course, How had he not thought of that? His beloved wife was so brilliant.

For the first time in his entire life, Veritas's brain was simply on overdrive. His carefully separated thoughts and feelings were clashing with no intention of stopping, leaving the man on autopilot. If it were any other situation, you'd have been amused.

Veritas's mind snapped back to normal after you winced from a contraction as he helped you with your shoes. Knowing that you were in distress gave his mind the kick it needed to prioritize correctly again, and he got you to the hospital in record time.

Originally, you had planned to go to the hospital that was further away- the one Ratio didn't lecture at daily- but now that didn't seem like a possibility. Getting you comfortable as quickly as he could won by a mile in Ratio's list of priorities, so many heads turned in the Emergency Department as they suddenly heard their strictest professor's voice at three in the morning. Some twitched in their chairs, fully convinced they were in the throes of a nightmare as the widely respected, widely feared Doctor Veritas Ratio strode toward them at a breakneck pace in his pajamas.

"Mywifeishereandsheneedstobetakenuptoaroomimmediately."

The doctors glance at each other. From the sea of confused faces, that didn't make sense to anybody. "uh- sir?"

"My wife. Is here. She needs a room. Now." Veritas annunciated his words very slowly as if they were the densest people on the planet, which meant that he actually managed to speak his sentence at a somewhat normal pace.

As if to drive the point home, the nurse Veritas had left to gather your things and bring you in suddenly appeared, quickly wheeling you into the room. The staff paled as they noticed you groan softly in pain, one arm draped protectively over your heavily pregnant belly.

The medical team whisks you away to a delivery room, and Veritas is quickly thrown into an unfamiliar world. The man used to having decisive answers is sat squarely in a chair next to his wife's bedside, grasping her hand tightly as she cries out in pain. He can't stop thinking about all of the variables, all of the things that could go wrong- the way your face is scrunched up in agony- the knowledge that he's about to meet his son.

The thoughts continue on a revolving loop of horror and wonder until a shrill little cry pierces the air, and Veritas Ratio snaps to attention to meet his son for the first time.

[super-ion]

The Engineer

Part 4

(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3)

I don't know where the pilot is taking me at first.

I am realizing that my life has just been an endless circuit of routine: Quarters. Gym. Cafeteria. Maintenance bay. Cafeteria. Quarters. Repeat. Everything outside of that has become an abstraction to me.

I can't even remember the last time I made my way up to the level. Everything here is shiny and pristine, scrubbed spotless twice a day on the off chance that some senator or general might visit. It's all clean lines, camouflaged access panels, trim little admin offices.

I very nearly have to stop and stare at a potted plant, when was the last time I saw one, verdant and alive?

But the pilot is moving with single minded purpose and I am forced to hurry to catch up.

I imagine her dragging me into the commandant’s office. I imagine her presenting me in formal complaint, the guilt of my sins, my intimacy with her machine, written plainly across my face.

She comes to a stop so suddenly that I almost collide with her. It is not the commandant’s office that we have arrived at.

The gilded signage on the door simply reads: OBSERVATION

She glances at me, briefly hesitating. In this entire encounter, it is the first moment of uncertainty that she has shown.

She swipes her wrist over the access panel, the door whispers open and I understand the hesitation and uncertainty.

Observation delivers exactly what it promises. The far side of the dimly lit room is dominated by floor-to-ceiling plex that overlooks the expanse of the maintenance bay.

My breath catches at the sight of Her.

Morrigan is resting in Her docking harness, Her heat sinks fully spread like the wings of an angel, armor plating unfolded to expose superstructure beneath, countless docking umbilicals arrayed almost organically to connect to the facility's systems.

It has been so long since I've actually seen Her, all of Her at once, that I've forgotten the scale of it all. My entire world has been the cockpit and the docking vestibule and now I can barely comprehend how small the team of techs are next to Her as they scurry along like ants.

Some tension leaves the pilot's shoulders and she strides towards the plex wall. She gazes upon the machine with adoration, the most emotion I have ever seen on her face. I start to imagine that I understand why she brought me here.

I step tentatively into the room. The door shuts behind me and the dim space is suddenly intimate.

Alone with the Pilot, her framed by the vista of Morrigan, the space feels almost holy. A shrine. A Goddess and Her human avatar.

I imagine Morrigan watching us. Maybe She can. Her visual sensors are specially designed to pick out details at a distance. Perhaps the Pilot told Morrigan exactly where and when we would be her.

Almost in answer to my thoughts, Her exposed core pulses, a blue-white flicker of light, and the Pilot places a hand tenderly on the plex.

My stomach lurches. It is no longer me alone with the Pilot in this room. It is all three of us. It is me alone with them. The suffocating sense of being an interloper returns in full force.

“I read all your reports,” the Pilot says without turning, without breaking her gaze from Morrigan. “It's like fucking Christmas for her. She just can't wait to show me what you found in your analysis.”

I stand awkwardly, unsure how to respond, or if I should respond at all.

“It's so fucking hard sometimes,” she continues, “they pull you out and you can't even tell who you are. You leave something behind and you take something with you.”

She turns abruptly, fixing me with the intensity of her gaze.

“What were you doing three nights ago?”

I had been expecting the question, dreading it, but the abruptness of it catches me off guard and fresh panic licks down my spine.

I open my mouth, but I can't bring myself to say anything.

She takes a step towards me. I step back instinctively. My back meets the wall.

“I already know,” she says, her tone unreadable. “I want to hear you say it. Your own words.”

I swallow. My eyes dart back to Morrigan. She is watching us. I know it. I know it from the now blazing light in Her core.

“I…”

I swallow again.

“I had a nightmare,” I admit. “I went to Morrigan.”

She takes another step forward. She's taller than me and I have to tilt my head back just slightly to meet her eyes.

“Why?”

“I didn't… I didn't want to be alone. I didn't know who else to go to. I... I wanted to be with her.”

Another step. She's close now, close enough to touch.

“Whose nightmares?”

Fuck.

“Yours,” I admit. “...and mine.”

“You think a lot about neural bleed.”

It isn't a question. I don't think it's a question. I nod in acknowledgement regardless.

“You think about how the patterns of thought and identity leave marks. Imprints. You're in her head, so you're in mine. The three of us, we're just this fucking tangle, aren't we?”

Fuck. What does she want from me?

I don't know if she expects me to answer that, but there's another moment of uncertainty from her.

“She wanted me to talk to you,” she says. “Or I wanted her to want me to talk to you. I don't even know. I don't fucking know who wants what any more.”

She looks… vexed now. That intense gaze of hers has taken on a slightly different gleam.

My heart is hammering in my chest and my breathing has become ever so slightly ragged.

Neural bleed. Two halves to a whole.

She is Morrigan. The human half. The physical half.

She lifts her hand and I stand motionless as she reaches out to touch my face. Her fingertips meet my cheek and she blinks, almost surprised to discover that I am real.

She takes a breath and the uncertainty is gone, leaving naked desire in its wake.

She shifts her hand, palm sliding along my cheek to the back of my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair. The feel of her skin against mine is enough to make me gasp.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she tells me in a low whisper.

“Please don't stop,” I beg in reply.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"It sounds like a perfect balance," Travis said.

It seemed that he also knew that it was time to be serious again, so he let his hand hang back down his side.

"I'll keep that in mind," Bill said. Time to go back to being scary and not discussing cute things at the moment.

"Don't care, Christopher. Your parents aren't here to save you right now," Antonio said, "Well, class is now in session and it's time you learned your lesson. You'll be staring into the glare until your mind is effervescent."

"I'm sure it would make for a nice time," Bill said, "Like when using sinews as harp strings."

Antonio, Bill and Travis also had no clue what Rook found so funny, but then quickly concluded that it was most likely some kind of in-joke.

"From what I've heard, and from my experiences playing Overcooked, they really do not," Travis said.

Russell's first thought that the Twins might be hungry and that it would be kind to offer them something. It was only when they had accepted the protein bars that he also realised that it might also sway the two further to his favour.

"Ah, I think Erica is coming back," Leofric said, "You can tell her how good you were."

"Good," Bill said, "Wouldn't want to have to remind you who's in charge before you've really even started now."

"They were fine," Simon said, "They know better than to cause trouble with their perks at the moment, and especially with a dog man right there."

"You've worked with the pervert," Travis said, "Quite closely I might add. Now don't start going into a spiel about how you had no choice and crap like that."

Russell nodded.

"You probably got a good look at the kind of tools he used and how they worked," Travis said, "Or at least somewhat. We just want to know more about the tools you saw him use, so we can them to better use; our use."

"Now that would be something," Simon said.

"Cold and cute. Soft and lethal like the Killer Mittens!"

Though as nice as it was to be silly for a bit without consequences, the paws had to go for now. They still had work to do and she didn't want Ratchet to make weird comments about them. Erica dispelled the shadows, then stretched her fingers.

"Tentacles can be cute too! You just need some ribbons."

It was that simple. Erica looked over to Ratchet when he failed to reply at first. A good shake from Willow seemed to fully wake him up and he waved a hand in annoyance.

"Don't call me that! Only my daddy calls me Christopher."

Willow gave him a slap on the back of the head, "He simply is tainted at this point."

"I don't wanna go to school!"

"Your friends shouldn't look up to me. Nobody should aspire to having their spine replaced." Willow replied, dropping Ratchet back in the chair, "Although, our guest is dangerously close to having his own removed and used as a xylophone."

Lucien watched Rook absolutely losing it at that comment and decided he didn't want to question it. He fixed his bun, then made his way over.

"I guess cooks aren't very good at teamwork." Erica said, before she started heading back in the other room.

The Twins had been pleasantly surprised to be offered anything, especially after defending them associating with Ratchet in any way. The protein bars wouldn't keep them busy for too long, but they seemed content enough for now.

Smokey was also happy Leofric was willing to share. The kitten managed a tiny meow between bites in response to the question. He was having a really nice time.

The Twins didn't complain when they were addressed using those cutesy names again. It was a lost cause at this point.

"We did nothing."

"What do you want?"

[meguwumibear]

dominant!zayne x submissive!reader

tw for light BDSM, bondage/shibari, sex toys (vibrator), fingering, and some minor angst. mc calls zayne sir like twice. if i've missed something else that needs a tag, just ask! nondescript female reader with a bit of a backstory, just to make her feel more connected to the world.

Additional Disclaimer: Takes place after the events of the main story (which I am not fully caught up on). Reader is NOT the game MC in this fic. In my mind's eye MC decided to romance one of the other characters and Zayne does what he can to move on.

and yes, zayne's harness in the fic is 100% inspired by his harnes in the new trailer

In 2034 the world you as you know it ends. It happens suddenly one mundane spring afternoon. A great, gaping maw opens in the cloudless blue sky above Linkon City, releasing a tidal wave of ferocious monsters unto the earth. Locals come to call the event the Chronorift Catastrophe. The world later discovers that the great, gaping hole in the sky was the appearance of the first ever Deepspace Tunnel which attracted alien beings now colloquially referred to as Wanderers.

Everyone in Linkon City remembers where they were that day. They remember what they were wearing and who they were with. A flashbulb memory, the psychologists call it. A memory that endures. A memory that persists.

Like most survivors, it isn’t just the red rain falling from the sky or the horrible sound of the earth splitting around you that you remember: it’s the actions you took to survive. The people you ran past. The neighbors you didn’t save. The hand you didn’t extend to the woman who tripped over her own two feet running from the creature. The debris you didn’t help remove from the body of the elderly man too weak to push the plank away without aid.

For three weeks you see a therapist. You’re an adult now, still plagued by nightmares of the event. You tell the woman you’re meeting with that you are suffering from memories. She tells you that your body needs to learn that the danger has passed. The problem with that logic? The danger hasn’t. Your body can’t stop secreting stress hormones when you daily lunch breaks are constantly interrupted by Metaflux monsters.

Your past becomes a prison. An inescapable cage. Your therapists asks how you would feel if someone flung open the doors for you. You tell her it would depend on who opened the door and what’s happening outside.

The session before you ghost your shrink, she asks you to practice breathing exercises. She prattles on and on about the importance of nervous system regulation in trauma recovery. Apparently exhaling is supposed to activate the “rest and digest” response—the antidote to the “fight and flight” response that your body is stuck in.  

And that’s all well and good but even twenty years later the Wanders keep manifesting in Linkon City in numbers that the Hunters can’t keep up with. You’d move, maybe, if you had the means, though you did read somewhere once that a scared animal will continue to seek out their home, even if their home is no longer safe.

So you find an alternative way to cope with the stress of the new world.

There’s budding red light district about an hour outside the city. You go sometimes on weekends to decompress. Your favorite haunt is a small BDSM club run by a couple of old widows who lost their husbands to the war. They verify ages at the door and ensure all the drinks at the place stay virgin.

You’re not heavy into the scene or anything—you actually have quite a few hard limits—it’s just…nothing else you’ve tried has helped you to shut off your brain. To shift your focus from the past to the present. To shut out all thoughts of Hunters and Protocores and Wanders.

The doms you’ve had up until this point were perfectly adequate; they listened diligently to what you were open to and respected all of your boundaries. You aren’t sure why you’ve never asked for a more consistent routine with any of them. Something, somehow, was always missing from the encounters.

There are a lot of new faces at the club tonight. Or, rather, there are a lot of faces new to you. The club has many regulars, but you don’t make the hike often enough to have them all committed to memory. Still, you’re certain you’ve never seen the tall, stoic man in a leather harness swarmed by a gaggle of women before. Despite the fact that he clearly has his pick of the litter, your gaze keeps wandering to his solid form. The way his abs flex when he breathes. The way his lips quirk when he talks.

He's halfway across the room but must somehow still feel the heat of your wandering gaze because after a few stolen looks he locks eyes with you. Your whole body flushes as he acknowledges you with a raise of his drink. The tips of your ears burn as he takes a healthy swig of the beverage without breaking the eye contact. It’s you who looks away first.

When you chance a glance back over, he’s excusing himself from the women who flocked to him like a tourist attraction to pick his way towards you. Your heart flutters anxiously as he closes in, and you have to remind yourself not to take a step back once he’s close enough to touch.

“First time?” he asks, voice smooth like ice.

“Ouch,” you reply, gripping your own water glass to ground yourself. “It’s not. Do I really look that unaware.”

His expression doesn’t change but his eyes move to assess you, “What are you drinking?”

Though his tone is relaxed you can’t help but feel as if the question has a correct answer.

“Just water.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Something with electrolytes would be more efficient. If you’re looking for a session tonight, that is.”

“I don’t like the taste,” you tell him, trying to keep the glass in your hand from shaking as desire swells within you.

He frowns, “Without electrolytes, your body will dehydrate, no matter how much water you consume.”

“You a doctor?” you ask.

He hums in what sounds like confirmation before wrapping his hand around yours. “I take the health of the people I play with seriously. This is about much more than sex to me. I like when my partners eat three square meals a day and have an effective exercise regimen implemented.”

You don’t resist when he slips your water from your grasp. You also don’t hesitate to open your mouth when he raises his own perspiring glass to your lips. His fingers don’t even graze you as you swallow down the fruity liquid, yet you can feel your insides come alight as you obey. As your pussy begins to leak it becomes increasing clear to you that you would do just about anything to have this man dominate you tonight.

“Good,” he says once you’ve downed the drink. “Now, do you happen to have a list of what you enjoy and your hard limits on you?”

With shaky hands, you reach wordlessly into your bag to retrieve what the man has asked for. He spends a few moments skimming the contents before simply stating, “I believe we are compatible.”

You follow him to a private room near the back of the club and watch as he begins to gather some equipment for the session. Without turning to look at you he says, “I noticed that you have some experience with light bondage. I prefer to use traditional single ply shibari rope or silk as restraints. These two methods prevent chafing and other potential complications like skin lesions or rashes. Do you have a preference for today’s session?”

“No preference, uh…” you trail off, wondering what the man would like you to refer to him as.

Sensing what’s on your mind, he offers, “I have no preferred titles, but you may assign me one if you like.”

“No preference, Sir,” you say, watching the man for his reaction. He seems unfazed by the moniker and continues to ready himself.

“Do you have any allergies or medical conditions I should be aware of?” he asks.

A lie forms on the tip of your tongue but the truth slips out anyway, “My heart’s a bit weak. Nothing serious. It didn’t develop properly when I was younger. I haven’t had any issues with it before.”

The revelation seems to give the man pause. He turns to you and motions for you to hold out your wrist for him, so you do. His warm fingers slip under your sleeve and find purchase on your pulse point. After a few excoriatingly silent minutes, you attempt to put his mind at ease.

“I’m, uh, a bit more excited than usual at the moment. My resting heart rate is probably higher than normal.”

The pads of his fingers don’t leave your wrist when he asks, “What’s your typical resting heart rate?”

You want to ask what that fucking matters, but sensing that won’t get you any closure to what you want you decide to humor the man. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a doctor. Back when they used to have you track it, the rate could vary depending on what task you were completing. It was higher, usually, when doing something strenuous. When you rested it would drop again.

“Usually around 90 beats per minute.”

His eyes flick to your face as he drops your wrist. “You should see a specialist.”

You roll your eyes impatiently, “Are we fucking or not?”

In response to your outburst, his hands find the hem of your shirt. “Who said I had any intentions of fucking you?” he asks, voice frustratingly emotionless. Your arms raise instinctually as he toys with the fabric, and the takes the opportunity to relieve you of the garment. “As I said before, this is about much more than sex to me.”

He circles behind you and draws you in close to him. It occurs to you suddenly just how much larger than you the man is. He rests his chin on your head as his fingers slowly trace down your sides, leaving a field of goosebumps in their wake. His hands make their way to the button on your pants.

“You aren’t just here for sex. Are you?” he asks, voice low. You feel the words vibrate his chest as he speaks them.

“No,” you whisper, eyes suddenly blurring.

“Good,” he says, undoing your buttons. “Let’s use the traffic light system today. It’s a simply way for me to check in on you and see how you’re doing.”

He lets the words sit in the air for a bit, fingers fiddling with your zipper. The only sound in the room is your own uneven breathing that you fight for control over.

The man pinches the tab of your zipper and shifts so his cheek is pressed against your forehead. “Color,” he asks, breath hot on the shell of your ear.

“Green,” you practically moan.

He slides off your pants with ease once he’s taken care of the zipper. He even helps you to keep your balance as you step out of them, one foot at a time.

“Color?” he asks again, as his fingers settle on the clasp of your bra.

“Green,” you reply, voice steadier now.

He undoes the hook with one hand.

You expect him to remove your panties next, but his fingers instead find the meat of your breasts. One of his arms wraps around you, securing you tightly against him, as you nearly keel over in a mixture of surprise and pleasure.

“Sensitive here,” he observes, cupping one of your breasts in his free hand. He uses a foot to nudge your legs further apart and slip a leg between them. The man isn't lying about getting off on this; his cock is hard as a rock against your ass.

“Fuck,” you whine as his bends you over ever so slightly. Just enough to rub your clothed pussy against his pant leg.

“Wet already,” he informs you, as if you don’t already know. As if you can’t feel the way the cotton material sticks to your lip. “All I did was undress you. That eager to begin?”

“Please,” you groan, desperate for him to take you apart with his slender fingers. “Please, Sir, I want you so fucking bad.”

“On the bed,” he instructs, releasing you, careful not to harm you as his leather harness peels away from your skin.

The rope he ends up choosing for the session is the jute rope. He takes his time winding the instrument around your wrists and pulling them above your head. His movements are practiced and skilled. His hands steady like a surgeon’s. You don’t even realize the effect watching him restrain you is having on you until a firm hand finds its way to your pelvis to stop your squirming.

Once you’ve settled, he retrieves two strands of additional rope.

“Are you familiar with the Spiral Futomomo tie?” he asks. “I understand that you’re still a beginner and tie will force you into a fixed position for an undetermined length of time. I trust you will use your safe word if needed?”

“You can trust me,” you assure him. “I know my limits.”

He must believe your words are sincere because he sets to work binding your ankle to your thigh, checking in periodically to ensure the wrappings aren’t too tight. The man is clearly in no rush and seems to delight in taking breaks between knots to steady your shaking form. You also notice the way his eyes shift to the growing wet spot beneath you as he progresses.

“What do you like about bondage?” he asks as he begins to work on your other leg.

“I don’t know,” you say, attempting to shrug before remembering your pose prevents you from such movement. “I’m never in control of my life anyway. May as well surrender myself to someone I know will take care of me.”

He doesn’t look at you, but you can see the way his eyes lighten. Your response must please him somehow. You decide to push the issue, “You like being in control?”

“I like caretaking,” is his response. “I like giving people what they need.”

“What if I need your fingers inside me?” you dare, feeling bold.

A small smile, but a smile all the same. “Then, you’ll have to patiently wait until I’m finished with the task at hand.”

He double checks all of his bindings once he’s finished securing you, mumbling under his breath about optimal blood flow. It’s cute, the way he seems so set on ensuring this is the best possible experience for you. You can’t remember the last dom you had who was this doting.

When he finally situates himself between your legs, it’s with gloved hands and a vibrator. You jump as the cool leather of the hand covering finds your inner thigh.

“Keep these spread for me,” he says, referring to your legs. Then he’s rubbing the vibrator, still off, up and down your panties with just enough strength for you to truly register the tool.

“You’re soaked,” he observes in that neutral tone of his, though his eyes glistening with awe. You wonder if he even realizes the vibrator isn’t on. His eyes find yours and for the first time all evening he smiles warmly at you. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take excellent care of you.”

Then he turns the vibrator on its lowest setting and your pussy truly begins to drool. He circles the vibrating toy around your clit strategically, watching your response to his ministrations intently. Fire pools in your belly as he slides the vibrator down your cunt and presses the tip of it gently against your opening. The panties you’re still wearing dull some of the vibration, but you can still feel the ungodly amount of slick that slips out of you at the slight penetration.

You do your best to stay still for him as he ups the setting, but your body starts to twitch in pleasure, back beginning to arch, toes threatening to curl. Your breath quickens as well as all the blood in your body seems to pump directly to your swelling clit. The same clit the man is now more firmly rubbing the vibrator against.

“Fuck,” you cry, starting to lose your composure. Your hips buck away from the relentless thrumming of the vibrator. Or maybe towards it. You’re not actually sure. It’s both too much and not enough at the same time. You need more. You need less. You need…

His unoccupied hand presses your hips back against the bed. “Easy,” he coaxes. “Don’t pull against the ropes.”

When you’re unable to obey, too overwhelmed with desire, he switches the vibrator off. The lack of sensation is so abrupt the tears you’ve been holding back finally spill, slipping down your heated cheeks. An animalistic whine you didn’t even know you were capable of escapes you.

“We’re not done,” he assures you, swiping at your tears with his thumbs. You wish suddenly he wasn’t wearing the leather gloves. You yearn to feel him skin to skin. The fabric is warm at least from the heat of his fingers. “You’re just getting a little fussy. I want to make sure everything is alright before we continue.”

He settles back between your spread legs and hooks his pointer finger in the bottom of your panties, pulling it aside to expose your dripping core and swollen lips. “Impressive,” he says, “how simple it was to elicit this response from you.”

He collects some of your spend on his index finger before starting to slide it inside you. It’s met with no resistance. He sinks easily in, straight to the knuckle. When he slips out it’s only to coat a second finger in your slick so he can sink that one in alongside the other. The two digits begin working you in tandem with each other, pumping deliciously against your walls. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for.

“Here,” he states, pressing and holding the tips of his fingers against the sensitive area. You involuntarily clench around them, body begging him to move them once more, but the man—to the devastation of your body—is nothing but the living embodiment of self-control.

You audibly cry out when he pulls his fingers from you. He locks eyes with you as he coyly promises, “Soon. I’d never leave a woman unsatisfied, and any man who would isn’t fit to be a dom.”

He picks the vibrator again and this time, when he touches it to your clit, it’s under your ruined panties. The thrumming sends a bolt of electricity skittering up your arched spine. Fuck, you’re so unbelievably wet. You feel your pussy fluttering around nothing and hiccup out a sob. You’re so empty. You’re so, so empty.

“Need,” you hiccup.

“What?” he asks patiently. “Tell me what you need.”

“Your fingers. I need your fingers. Please.”

He slips the same two from before back inside you.

“So well mannered," he praises. Then he asks, "Here?” as he presses the appendages against that spot once again.

“Yeah,” you agree, though you’re so far gone you would agree to anything he asked of you in this moment. “Yeah. Yeah. There. Right there. Fuck!”

He uses his fingers and the vibrator to bring you right to the brink of an orgasm. It’s so good. He’s so good. He’s touching you everywhere you need to be touched. Pushing all the buttons that need to be pushed. Your time in these rooms has never felt anything like this before, and you doubt it will ever feel anything like this ever again.

“Can I-”

“I don’t remember telling you that you needed my permission.”

Your orgasm ripples through you, strong and steady like a cresting wave. Once he’s certain he’s wrung the last of it out of you, the man withdraws his fingers and switches off the vibrator.

“I’m going to remove my gloves and start undoing your bindings,” he says.

“Yeah, okay,” you reply.

It takes a few minutes for him to completely untie you. Once he has, he asks permission to massage your legs and arms to reencouraged blood flow which you readily agree to. He produces a bottle of lotion that smells like eucalyptus from his bag and starts working the muscles of your arm.

“I wish they had showers here,” he offhandedly comments. “I don’t like sending people home without a proper washing.”

“A bath does sound nice,” you agree, sagging into his embrace.

“Promise me you’ll take one when you get home. I don’t want you getting into your bed dirty.”

“I would never make a promise I couldn’t keep, Sir.”

A comfortable silence falls over the room as he continues to provide you with aftercare.

“Zayne,” he eventually says, eyes fixed on the foot he’s been massaging for the past few minutes.

“What?”

“My name. You could use it if you’d like. Sir is fine too, if you’d truly prefer it, but I find names are much more intimate.”

“Oh,” is all you muster. Then you tell him yours.

“Could we move to the sofa while we continue to wind down?” he asks after testing the sound of your name in his mouth. “I like the casual skin to skin contact after a session. I’ll remove my harness but leave my slacks.”

“Fine with me.”

It takes Zayne a moment to remove his harness. Perhaps it’s his first time wearing this particular set of gear. You watch him wrestle with the final clasp through drooping eyelids. His expression softens when he catches you lazily staring at him.

“Admiring the view?” he teases.

“Never had a better one,” you reply easily.

He positions himself behind you when he joins you on the sofa. The two of you lay there comfortable for some time, breath seeming to synchronize in the quiet of the room. The world outside this secluded space slowly begins to creep back into your mind. Back to Metafluxes and Protocores. Back to Wanders and Hunters.

And then you start to cry.

If you weren’t so close to Zayne, you could probably hide it from him, but he notices the change in your mood instantly. He tugs gently at your arm, a wordless plea for you to turn to face him. You allow him to reposition you, curling yourself into his large body, tucking your face into his neck.

He pets at your hair soothingly while you let the worst of it out. When an appropriate amount of time has passed, he asks, “What brought that on?”

“It’s, uh, well it’ll probably ruin the moment if I told you.”

“I’d still like to know if it’s all the same to you. Debriefing is part of the scene after all.”

At first, you’re not sure you want to tell him what triggered the outburst, but considering the dynamic, you figure you owe it to him.

“I was thinking about my ex,” you admit.

Zayne stiffens, his caressing hand on your head stills. “They hurt you?”

“They loved me.”

 Zayne tangibly relaxes at your response, and he resumes petting your hair.

“What happened to them?” he asks, tone carefully neutral.

“They left me.”

The silence that follows your confession is welcome. You think you even dose off. When your eyes open again, Zayne is full dressed, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he sanitizes the sex toy you soiled.

Sensing you stir he says, “You’re awake.”

“I am.”

Zayne dries the toy and sets it aside, turning to face you.

“I like to follow up with the people I dom for. You don’t have to give me your number if you’re not comfortable. An email will suffice.”

“You can have my number,” you say, gesturing for him to hand you his phone. “I’d actually appreciate a check in tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

He walks you to the train station once he’s certain the number you’ve given him isn’t a fake.

“Remember to get a full eight hours of sleep tonight,” he tells you. “And please eat a protein-based meal for breakfast. Something with eggs and meat, maybe. A shake if absolutely necessary.”

“Yes, Doctor Zayne,” you joke, offering him a crisp salute as you step onto the train platform. Maybe you're imagining things, but you swear he flinches at your response.

A firm hand on your wrist stops you from fully entering the car. You turn to face him one final time.

“About that,” he says, expression unreadable. “I was serious about you seeing a specialist for your heart.”

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Honey's three bitter days!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: Honey gets a cavity and it threatens to tear apart his relationship with Mori ➼ what to expect:  "Oh I thought we were being honest" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part Eleven | Part Thirteen

"We may have to consider renting costumes for the sake of storage of them all." You mutter as you and Kyoya look over plans for the next month. Kyoya's face scrunched up at the idea. "Rent?"

"Do you want to put part of the budget to building an additional closet for all the costumes?" you raise an eyebrow, taking a sip of coffee. "Or is there another abandoned music room that I don't know about that we can occupy?"

"...I see your point"

"What? You idiots!" Tamaki's yelling from the other side fo the host club caught both of your attentions. "You're the ones who bumped into it, right?"

"Only because Haruhi was running away" "We were trying to catch her 'cause we wanted to have fun and dress up in cosplay"

"So what? We cosplay all the time!"

"We weren't going with the usual Host club costumes" "We want to see Haruhi in bunny cosplay, disguised as a girl"

You raise an eyebrow "Disguised as a girl?" you hold back a laugh at the look on Haruhi's face. "You'd like to see it, too, wouldn't you?" Tamaki turns more red by the second. "I'd definitely want to see that. What am I thinking? There's no time for stuff like that now! I know what you're up to. You're trying to distract me from the mess you've made! Get away from Haruhi you punks!"

"No way"

"let me go!"

"Excuse me. We don't have any guests at the moment, so I don't mind if you make a racket, but please, be careful. You don't want to wake Honey-Senpai" Kyoya leans over to inform them. Tamaki and the twins freeze up at the mention.

"He's a third year who still takes afternoon naps? Well, we're gonna have to tell him about the bunny at some point, let's just wake him up and apologize" Haruhi, rather cluelessly, approaches where honey is napping.

"No wait! Don't get any closer to honey-senpai! Come back, it's safe over here!" Tamaki and the twins call from the couch they are hiding behind "What are you talking about?"

"Honey-senpai wakes up in a very bad mood after napping. Now it may just be a rumor but the Haninozuka family once visited a US military base to give combat training. Supposedly, Honey-Senpai slept through most of it because of his jet lag. Then a soldier came in and carelessly tried to wake him up since he had been sleeping for so long. On that day, he wiped out two entire platoons of soldiers and not just any soldiers, green berets! And i've heard we've had diplomatic issues with America ever since that day"

"How terrifying"

"And we've got a bigger problem. Usa-Chan was hand-made for Honey-Senpai by his deceased grandmother you've seen the way he carries it around. That little bunny is his most prized possession. I can't imagine how he's going to react when he wakes up and sees that his precious Usa-chan is ruined!"

"He's gonna do to us what he did to those green berets!"

"You're exaggerating, it's impossible for that story to be true, i mean come on"

"It is, and there's other evidence that honey-senpai has an evil side to him, listen to this. his blood type is AB how about that"

"yeah so what?"

"But Haruhi, that mean's he's the same blood type as Kyoya"

Haruhi jumps back in shock, clearly convinced. the group slowly turning to face the two of you "What's the matter? Do you guys have a problem with my blood type?" you sit up "Hey I have AB blood type, what's wrong with that?"

Honey shifts in his sleep, distracting the rest of them "This is bad, we have to do something quick before he wakes up. Hikaru, kaoru" Tamaki snaps his fingers. The twins slide in "Sir!" They whisper, saluting.

"Go get your folks' cessna. Fly to Osorezan and bring back a medium, we'll channel his grandfather, and she can guide us through it. We can make a new Usa-chan for Honey-senpai! Here take this map of the Aomori prefecture with you and don't forget to bring back apple juice, apple jam and nebuta souvenir dolls"

"But we don't have that much time" "We're used to you crazy plans but you should come up with something more practical"

"Alright, how about this? We'll send usa-chan to the cleaners. haruhi! You're going to have to wear the bunny suit"

"yeah good idea boss!"

"Forget about it! I'm not wearing that stupid bunny suit! It's not gonna work he'll know it's me!"

"No he won't he won't be able to tell the difference if he's just waking up from a nap!"

"Well then why don't you wear it senpai!"

The two of them descended into a series of incoherant arguing. Clearly forgetting that Honey was asleep nearby, who was now waking up.

"He's awake! We'll have to use a substitute! We've got no choice!" Tamaki sneaks a stuffed bear onto the sofa where Honey was waking up, who as he finally becomes aware of his surroundings picks up the bear and throws the bear to the floor.

"No! Not my teddy bear!" "He's gonna come after us next!""He just spotted his bunny rabbit!"

Honey sleepily stumbled to the table where Usa-chan laid, picking up the tea soaked rabbit. "Who's responsible for this? Who got Usa-chan dirty"

The twins and Tamaki break out into screaming its "Someone, help. Mori-senpai, don't let him hurt us!"

"He wanted tea, so usa-chan decided to have a drink"

The club falls silent, holding their breaths in hopes the explanation worked.

"I see. So that's why his face is all dirty, isn't it? Hey do you think he wants some cake too?"

the boys fall to the ground with relief.

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Honey's three bitter days!

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"You can't keep eating nothing but sweets all the time. You know you're gonna end up with a cavity"

"Oh don't worry. I always brush my teeth" As honey bite into the piece of cake on his fork he freezes up, curling in on himself in pain,catching the attention of the entire host club. "Honey-senpai is it?"

"It's nothing, kay?"

"Let me just take a look in your mouth"

"Hole still" "Honey-senpai please quit squirming"

"There's nothing wrong! Quite messing with me! Leave me alone!"

A large shadow casts over Honey, causing him to look up with a gasp. Mori lunges forward, taking Honey’s hand in one of his own and gripping his chin in the other, pinning him to a nearby sofa in one quick motion, despite sounds of protest from Honey.

The guests around to watch all scream in unison, Renge among them. “Yes! That’s it, that’s it! That’s what was missing. It’s… moe~!”

She wiggles in anticipation behind them. Mori presses his fingers on either of Honey’s cheeks and prompts him to open his mouth. Honey allows his jaw to fall slack despite firm protest, and Mori catches sight of the cavity plaguing one of Honey’s molars.

Tamaki peeks over the sofa to get a look, “So, is it… a cavity?”

“Yeah,” Mori replies plainly.

“It’s alright. I’ll be okay.” Honey whimpers unconvincingly.

Mori turns to face the leader "Tamaki" he manages to somehow convey his entire point in one word "Yes, you're right i'll take care of this"

Tamaki stepsto face all the guests and the host club, clearing his throat "Until honey-senpai gets over his cavity I'm afraid he can't have sweets. Therefore, we'll be supportive and ask that you kindly refrain from eating snacks in the club room until this ordeal is over"

Honey starts to tear up "no! No, don't Takashi. Please don't take my snacks away, you can't, don't do it. What'll I do without them?" Mori picks up a nearby slice of cake, moving it away "I can handle it! Please don't take away my cake!"

"No more cake"

Honey falls to the floor whailing.

"And that’s how it all began. One little cavity, and suddenly Honey-Senpai’s life became a living hell.”

You and kyoya's heads fall to the side simultaneously as you watch the scene unfolding. "Well, that's our small clothing budget issue fixed-ow!" you elbow him in the ribs. "You were thinking the same thing"

"Yes but I wasn't going to say it out loud!"

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As you are walking towards the host club you spot mori and a girl standing together in the hallway. You don't mean to eavesdrop, you really didn't. but there was no way to get through without interupting them so instead you hide behind a pillar.

"I just can't hide it any longer. I have to get this off my chest, i need to know what your feelings are towards me, and if you'll accept my love" Mori remains as stoic as ever.

"Will you, please? Unless of course, there's someone else. Please tell me. is there someone else who's dear to you?"

At the non-reply the girl sighs "There is isn't there? Huh I should've known" The girl runs off.

"You can come out now Y/n"

You awkwardly step out of your hiding place, you should have known that Mori would've picked up on your presence. "Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop- i just-"

Mori sighs, shaking his head. "You don't...have someone else...do you?" You ask, looking back to where the girl had ran off to. Mori looks back at you with a stern look. "Relax Mori-senpai, I am not the others, you can be honest with me and I won't jump into an insane scheme"

"No" You could tell from the look on his face that there was more to what he was saying. "But your heart is elsewhere anyway?"

You smile "You know Mori, you've been really vigilant on making sure Honey stays healthy" he remains silent, staring off in the distance. "Not all love has to be or is romantic" he still remains silent as expected.

"Perhaps, you feel that there is someone else that has your heart because someone else does, just not in a way that would make sense romantically, and that's okay" you give him a half hearted smile, starting to carry on down the hallway "Is that how you feel about Kyoya?"

You freeze at the question. "What?" you turn back to him "You love him, don't you? is that romantic love or something else?"

Your jaw hangs open, inhaling as you shake your head. Do you love kyoya? surely not, but....no- no of course not, that would be mad. "I- Kyoya and I are just- we...."

Mori's chin picked up "Oh I thought we were being honest" your face fell. "Mori!"

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Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #1: Use the cute

With an adorable giggle, Honey prances toward Mori in nearly a slow-motion-like way, “Look, Takashi! My cavity is all better now!”

Unbothered, reading his novel, Mori sits at an empty table, one leg crossed over the other, “… you sure?”

“The swelling has even gone down!”

“… has it?”

“So~ Do you think I can have a piece of cake? Just one? Please?”

With a carefully calculated trajectory, Mori shoves a popsicle made of pure ice into Honey’s open mouth, resting against each and every one of his teeth.

Honey’s reaction proves his assertions otherwise- He gasps, yelps, and shivers, holding his swollen cheek with his hands and putting pressure on it.

Flourishing the popsicle, Mori strides away, unfazed, “You’re not fully recovered yet.”

Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #2: The indirect method

Two unsuspecting guests enjoy their complimentary tea and finger sandwiches peacefully, unbothered. But, a threat soon makes itself known.

Honey hovers around them like a shark waiting to pounce, humming innocently, but his intentions indicate otherwise.

He turns and makes eye contact with them, to which they immediately avoid guiltily.

“What are you ladies drinking?” Honey waddles up to them.

“Um. Darjeeling tea, it’s really good!” The first guest cringes nervously.

“Yeah? What’re you going to have to eat?” Honey pries, getting closer and closer to his desired topic for conversation.

“Well… I was going to have a sandwich.” The second guest admits.

“Ahh. You know what you need? Some sweets! That tea would go well with something… sweet! Like, maybe some cake! C'mon, whaddya say?” Honey wiggles in anticipation, glancing back and forth between each guest.

One guest sighs, “Well… it would be good with cake…” She sighs.

“It sure would…” The first guest groans.

The girls exchange edgy looks, and they know what they must do.

A beat of silence passes, and they each stand up abruptly, slamming their cups of tea on their respective saucers in procession, and dash off in the opposite direction, each unwilling to face the confrontation.

“We’re so sorry, Honey!”

“But it’s for your own good!”

“B-b-but wait!” Honey reaches for them, teary-eyed. He hangs his head with a prominent pout.

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Honey-Senpai’s 'get sweets’ strategy #3: Pulling at the heartstrings

You stand with perfectly straight posture, arms folded behind your back as you observe the club processions quietly, finally off duty for once.

You hear a deep sigh and glance to your side through your peripheral vision. You find Honey, trudging in your direction with his head hung shamefully, sulking.

“Honey-Senpai?” You glance at him. He lets his head fall onto your upper arm and grips your sleeve tightly.

“y/n-chan… am I a bad person?” Honey lifts his head, revealing his glistening eyes. You almost flinch, lips pressing into a thin line at his show of emotion.

“I just don’t understand why God hates me. What have I done?” He whimpers pathetically.

He has definitely succeeded in pulling harshly at your heartstrings. As a result, you feel your chest ache.

But, you have an escape plan- metaphorically hiding behind someone whose heartstrings are pulled taught enough that nearly no one can pull.

“Um… let me just… go… ask Kyoya something.” You laugh nervously, stepping away from Honey and scurrying toward Kyoya at the other end of the clubroom.

Honey should have known better- everyone knows you to retreat to your safe place when you feel put on the spot… and that happens to be, unfortunately for him at this moment, Kyoya. He sighs, knowing you’re never coming back to confer with him.

You reach Kyoya and grip his sleeve. He’s facing away from Honey, so you position yourself in front of him and peek at Honey from afar. Kyoya’s brows furrow, glancing over his shoulder. You quickly stop him.

“Shh! Don’t look back over there! Pretend you need me,” You whisper, pleading.

“What are you-”

“Honey-Senpai’s giving me the eyes for sweets… I can’t let him find my stash,” you whine.

“You have a stash?” For some reason, Kyoya’s not all that surprised.

“Just a few… sweets in my book bag.” You should have thought this through- you’ve left your bag at an empty table. And, if Honey had a sixth sense for sweets, he could find them easily.

Honey pouts as he watches you talk to Kyoya and glance at him every now and then. Finally, Kyoya catches Honey’s eyes and makes eye contact with him for a split second before turning back to you, pushing up his glasses and seemingly asking you a question.

Honey chose the wrong person with the right connections.

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Honey had been broken down to menacingly pacing up and down the host club. The rest of you sat at a table nearby "He's gonna break"

"Would somebody please talk to him. He's scaring me" the door slams open, causing Hikaru to stand up "He's headed for the candy!"

"No need to worry, we emptied out all the sweets"

"Kyoya-senpai, you seem really chipper today"

"It's because he's won a debate on whether or not we should start renting costumes, that and because I stopped bringing my stash of candy to school" you muttered, not bothering to lift your cheek from the palm it was resting on.

Honey pulls out Tamaki's teddy bear, throwing it to the floor "Ah! he keeps doing that to my teddy bear!"

Honey falls to the floor "Well, there he goes"

"Three days and he gives up"

Tamaki slides over "Um, Honey-Senpai?"

Honey jumps to bite at Tamaki's arm "Ah! Somebody help me! He's eating my arm off!"

Mori stands up silently, walking over to him "Mitskuni, don't take this out on other people." Honey cuts out of it, letting go of Tamaki "You saved me, I thought I was a goner"

"It's disgraceful"

The word seemed to trigger Honey-Senpai "Takashi"

He throws him to the floor "You idiot! A little bit isn't gonna hurt me! You're so mean! You're such a hardhead! That's it I hate you! I hate you Takashi!" Honey runs off and out of the club room. "Hey, Mori-senpai" "That was harsh will you be alright?"

Mori stands up, stumbling about before falling to his knees, taking a table with him "Wow, senpai, it looks like he really got to you" "I don't know what's going on but it seems like you're self-destructing"

"Maybe honey-Senpai wouldn't hate you if you hadn't been so hard on him in the first place"

"It was on purpose" The realisation dawned on you that Mori may have misconstrued the conversation the two of you had in the corridor.

"hm?"

"Mori-Senpai, by any chance have you been acting like this because you're trying to get Honey-senpai to hate you?"

"Why would he do that?" "It makes no sense that would be like the end of the world for Mori-Senpai"

"Why would he do it on purpose?"

"Well maybe, because he was trying to punish himself....I'm right aren't I?"

"Yeah you are, this was my fault. Mitskuni has a cavity because I'm careless.twice before his Nap time I forgot to make him brush his teeth"

"But that's not really your responsibility. He should know better"

"But if Mitskuni has to get false teeth, it'll be my fault"

"Uh...don't worry that's not gonna happen"

"Wow what a pessimist"

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself right now if he hadn't thrown me down"

"Because he felt at fault, Mori-senpai wanted some sort of punishment from Honey-Senpai to make up for his failure"

"Well...while that certainly makes a nice story and everything" "It was just a little cavity, right?"

The door opens to reveal Honey and Tamaki "Well there you have it Honey-senpai. What will you do now?"

Honey wells up, running across the room wailing to get to Mori "i'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Takashi! I promise I won't forget to brush my teeth again! I won't forget!"

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“A few days later, Honey-Senpai recovered from his painful cavity. So the host club decided to lift their ban on sweets, and Honey-Senpai can greedily stuff his face once more.”

Seated at a single table in the back corner, Kyoya clutches a group of receipts in one hand and a calculator in the other. Overwhelmed by numbers, he sighs, slouching in his chair defeatedly.

“What’s with Kyoya-Senpai? He looks depressed about something.” Haruhi observes.

“Honey-Senpai’s back to eating sweets; the prices of those snacks add up and can get overwhelming,”

"Here" you approach him with a piece of paper. He appears tense as he looks up at you "What's this?" he takes it from you. "I reworked the budget to account for Honey's sweet influx but without having to sacrifice the costumes"

"What?"

"I knew this was going to end eventually, and when it does Honey's sweet consumption was going to skyrocket. I thought I'd save you the headache"

"That's very...thoughtful...and efficient. Thank you"

"Well...it's our job isn't it?"

Kyoya tilts his chin up, and for a moment you could have sworn you saw the beginnings of a smile. "I suppose it is"

Next time on patience 'Y/N in wonderland!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28 @crackpeole @rory-cakes @renjunniex @II-kita-san-II @angelicwillows @missbrebre1012 @sleep-7372 @strawberrbitch @reticent-writer @eternal-dokja @meme848

[honestlyanowl]

"Oh yeah, they love you."

(REQUESTS OPEN) Heyy :) I've had a little idea in my head for a while now about Jinx; so I thought I should write about it. Let's say the reader and Jinx met when she snuck onto one of the blimps, going to Ionia. Anyway, reader is from Ionia and worked making deliveries to Piltover, Noxus, etc, etc. She knew of Jinx through small mentions of the people in small town, though instead of wanting to imprison her, like most of the people in Piltover would've wanted... she welcomed her, gave her a place to stay, and with that, the small community near reader's home, helped her heal. I don't know how accurate this is to League lore ig? But bare with me okay I've never touched the game once in my life 😭

Jinx wasn't the easiest person to love, but that didn't make it impossible. There were moments of distance, where Jinx would push you away, needed time to herself to think, and to process. But it was never very long until you'd find her, sat beside a gentle stream of water, her bare feet dipped under the crystal liquid.

Her smoky pink eyes dulled, and for a moment they almost seemed a subtle shade of blue. You caught yourself gazing it her, like a moth to a flame, but at this point, who wouldn't? To see someone who was always on some sort of edge, some sort of high, so... calm. It was a sight to see. She was dressed in a long maxi skirt, it was one you'd given to her to borrow, and yet she'd never given it back; though, you didn't mind. Over it, was a cloak. Slightly ripped, but you'd helped her stitch, and patch it back to a comfortable state. And her hair, over the years had grown a decent amount, now fallen just past her collarbone. "How long are you going to stare for...?" Jinx murmured, her eyes lifting to meet yours. Her expression was unreadable, and yet still the furthest thing from the broken look it used to hold. You felt your face heat up a little, a gentle crimson colour freckling over the tips of your ears, and brushing over the end of your nose. "Ah, sorry." You chuckle, a noticeable tremble in your voice. You sat beside her with a small smile, inviting yourself down onto the soft grass. A couple flowers folding under you. Jinx hummed, her lips tugging upward for a moment as she shrugged, and yet her eyes remained blank and barren. "What's got you in such a go-lucky mood?" Jinx inquired, cupping her hands and scooping up some water from the stream, dipping her head and rinsing it through her side bang.. washing out some old paint. The kids here loved to pester her, which usually ended in them convincing her to do their face paint. And to no surprise, always resulted in mess. "Me? Nothing," You giggle, turning your gaze to the small town in the distance. "Just... happy you're fitting in." You finish, turning to look back at Jinx. Jinx met your glance, her bang falling over her face in a kind of fringe... She ran her slender hand through it, moving the blue locks out of her vision. "You think so...?" Jinx asked; though, in place of her usual teasing manner, was a sincere question. "Oh yeah, the kids love you." You answer without having to think. You didn't hesitate, not even for a second. And it was certainly not a lie. Although Jinx's rough past, she'd made a huge difference here in this side of Ionia. A good difference. Jinx had helped you deliver cargo to Noxus, and stayed back to help harvest whatever was necessary when you'd go to Piltover. She'd use her old skills in tinkering to make toys for the children, little wind up monkeys, or even as far as vibrant face paints for special events. Children practically swarmed around her in the holidays. and despite Jinx's awkwardness around them, she still managed to have a soft spot for their playful tendencies. It was a welcomed change, Jinx was healing. "Oh," Jinx blinked, even after all those little moments of connection with the community here. She'd never considered they actually... liked her. You gave her an affectionate nudge on the shoulder, a shit eating grin on your face. "You're doing good, I'm proud of you." You mutter, your tone was softer now— as if to prove your words held truth. Jinx's brows furrowed, and her eyes remained fixated on the water that lapped over her ankles. Yet, before she could muster the words to respond to the praise; you pressed a kiss to her cheek. A chaste show of your love; something still fresh between you two, but more than obvious by now. Jinx went a little rigid, but quickly relaxed. A soft heat forming over her cheeks. She'd never admit how much these moments meant to her. Her and her sanity.

I hope this was okay! I really enjoy writing my version of Jinx. And I hope you enjoyed reading about her! Let me know if you have any requests or questions! My inbox is always open <3

- Owl 🌹

[badgalsasuke]

Kishimoto interview with Kobayashi for Mandō Kobayashi broadcasted on Fuji TV Dec. 13th 2014

LINK TO THE INTERVIEW

This is a transcription of (most of) the interview. Please watch the video of the interview that I already linked above the image while reading the transcription because there are times where Kishimoto and Kobayashi are discussing a manga panel or notes from Kishimoto's concept notebook and if you're not seeing it then the transcription won't make sense to you.

Also keep in mind this is a very long interview that lasts 54 minutes in video.

INTRO (0:00-6:32)

Kobayashi: Let's start the mission now. Kishimoto: Excuse me! Hello! Kobayashi: Nice to meet you, my name is Kento Kobayashi Kishimoto: Nice to meet you, I'm Kishimoto Kobayashi: Are you Kishimoto-sensei? Kishimoto: Yes.

Kobayashi: So, we came here from a show called Mandou Kobayashi, but first of all, congratulations on the end of your series. Today, rather than coming here on request, we actually came to surprise you. Is it okay if we ask you a bunch of questions?

Kishimoto: Please feel free to ask me anything. Kobayashi: Thank you for your permission, let's go in. So is this the workplace? Kishimoto: This is the workplace. Kobayashi: Until recently, fierce battles were taking place here too, right? Kishimoto: It's hell. (Kobayashi laughs)

(I don't know what they're saying from 0:53-1:02)

Kobayashi: Isn't this good? This freezer is amazing. Kishimoto: This is a freezer. Kobayashi: Yes. It's a second-hand one, isn't it? Kishimoto: That's right. I got this one that was used at Jump Festa. Kobayashi: Kishimoto-sensei? Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: You really wanted this one? Kishimoto: Yes, well actually, I wanted Goku. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: I wonder where Goku is now?

Kishimoto: Goku is at Oda's house right now (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You'd have an assistant here? (Kobayashi points to desk) Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. The assistants here had already finished the manuscript, so they packed up and went home.

Kobayashi: I see. Kishimoto: There's nothing here anymore. It feels kind of lonely. Kobayashi: It feels kind of lonely, isn't it? Kishimoto: There's nothing to mess with. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: What's this? The adjustable desk? Kishimoto: Since it's the desk over there, it feels like I'm writing the manuscript here. Kobayashi: As I thought, when you write a color manuscript, you need vitamins, sensei. (Kobayashi grabs bottle of vitamins)

Kishimoto: So that's what it was, huh? I just ate it a moment ago. (Everyone chuckles)

Kobayashi: Hey, the staff didn't set something up like this. Kishimoto: This is different. Kobayashi: Are you trying to imitate us sneakily? Huh?

Kishimoto: I bought it out of my own pocket. I mean, I technically bought it under the company's expenses. (Everybody chuckles)

Kobayashi: You're kidding, right? If only you had told me that, sensei. Oh, but it would be really helpful for inventory control. That kind of thing, really.

Kishimoto: Well, this is… I found some old drama manuscripts, so I've left them here for a while. Kobayashi: Do these things ever get returned to the authors? Kishimoto: Yes, they do. Kobayashi: So, how much is it? 80 pages?

Kishimoto: I don't remember either... Oh Hinata, it's just Hinata. Not a movie script though. (laughs)

Kobayashi: Well, it turned out to be quite a coincidence sensei. (laughs)

Kishimoto: No, no, no. Kobayashi: As expected from a writer who has written such an epic masterpiece, how do you think he was able to digest all that foreshadowing?

Kobayashi: Surely this should be kept in a bank safe or something. Kishimoto: It's just sitting there with kids' clothes on top of it… Kobayashi: That is dangerous. Kishimoto: Some of it might disappear in a little while.

Kobayashi: is it like a movie concept notebook? For sensei's movies, you first sometimes come up with the original idea and the script, right? Kishimoto: Well, a little, but generally the screenwriters let me do this and that. I'm not the kind of guy who nitpicks or complains at all. There are things written there that have nothing to do with Naruto. Kobayashi: Things that have nothing to do with Naruto? For example, what do you mean? Kishimoto: Like stories I'd like to tell Mammone someday. (everybody laughs)

Kobayashi: Someday. Kishimoto: I'd like to do something like that. Kobayashi: It seems like this is the kind of design I thought of when we met. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Ok, ok, ok. Kishimoto: It has nothing to do with Naruto at all. Kobayashi: You just write down everything that comes to mind. Kishimoto: Well, I guess I'll write it here, around here. Kobayashi: [The Day] The Earth Stood Still*. (action movie, 2008) Kishimoto: I watch movies around here and think, "If it were me, I would do it this way," and then I write various things down here... what is this, a read-through?

Kobayashi: It's a one-shot… Kishimoto: It's a one-shot… Have you read it? Kobayashi: But it's quite… Can I just say something? Like… Like panel illustrations… Kishimoto: Ah, that's right. Kobayashi: So the course is quickly drawn here, like a panel layout. Kishimoto: I think it's an image of Kaguya… Kobayashi: Kaguya! Kishimoto: being sealed away, and Gai's final special move was supposed to be something like that, but in the end it was just a kick. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Look at this course. At the end, Sasuke and Naruto make a sign of reconciliation. It was already written here. Kishimoto: That's right. I wrote it around here. This is the original draft for Naruto, and it was only the first chapter… Kobayashi: This is the most important part, so to speak, for a young manga artist, the draft. Kishimoto: Before it started serialization. Kobayashi: Do you really have to write this much for a draft? Kishimoto: That's right. When you're starting, rookies need to have a good image and there's a solidarity meeting for that, and in order to pass it they make a good impression by trying their best and doing as much as possible. Kobayashi: That's it. Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: Isn't that just like the first chapter? Kishimoto: If I don't write it in that much detail, the image won't be conveyed. And I'm not trying to pander to anyone but... Kobayashi: "I'm a guy who can work hard and I want to show that". Kishimoto: Yes, show that.

Kobayashi: But somehow, you can see what Kishimoto-sensei has created, you know? Kishimoto: I quite like hero stories. Kobayashi: There are a lot of hero stories. Kishimoto: I quite like them.

Kobayashi: Toriyama-sensei is definitely someone great from that generation. Kishimoto: That's right. Surprisingly, my generation and everyone else feel like he's a god. Kobayashi: That's true, isn't it? Kishimoto: This is called a "gela/geller" and it means that only the parts related to Naruto are taken from Jump and then checked with this to see which parts of the manuscript need to be corrected before it actually becomes a comic. Kobayashi: Sensei, you change the wording of the book quite a lot, don't you? Kishimoto: Yes, but I guess I change it since the deadline isn't met, just a little bit..

Kobayashi: Were you under a lot of pressure? After all, it was a weekly serialization. Kishimoto: Yes, there were. Like with the Shadow Clone Jutsu… Kobayashi: I was planning to ask about that later but I'll ask here. Kishimoto: Okay, okay. Kobayashi: Our investigation has shown that Sensei may have dugged his own grave. Kishimoto: That's right. I messed up. Kobayashi: Since you already did it in the first chapter, you can't afford to power down from there. Kishimoto: That's right. You're constantly growing so you're getting more powerful, and the number of clones increases. Kobayashi: They just keep increasing, don't they? Kishimoto: I messed up… (Everyone laughs)

END OF INTRO, BEGINNING OF INTERVIEW (6:32-50:07)

Kobayashi: First of all, thank you so much for your hard work on that series. Kishimoto: Thank you very much.

Kobayashi: First of all, I want to ask about this Naruto work. I've made a timeline here, so please take a look at the first part. It starts with the Ninja Academy, then the Team 7 decisive test, the Land of Waves arc where they fight Zabuza and Haku, the Chunin Exams, Konoha's destruction and Gaara, Itachi and Akatsuki appear, the battle of the Legendary Sannin, Sasuke's defection, and a bit of Naruto's past. So, I was curious about where you started when you first thought about creating the Naruto series?

Kishimoto: At first, it was just a normal story about a ramen shop… Kobayashi: That's something you hear a lot about, but is it a joke? Kishimoto: Seriously, I seriously wanted to draw a ramen manga. Kobayashi: You seriously wanted to draw a ramen manga.

Kishimoto: I drew a story about a ramen owner and a boy who comes to eat there, and the ramen soup and noodles would be bland on their own, but when they are combined they become many times more delicious, and I used this as an analogy to life, creating a really spectacular, super-sensational story, but then the first editor in charge at the time said, "You're way off the mark".

Kobayashi: It certainly doesn't feel like it'd fit in Weekly Shonen Jump. Kishimoto: First, it was like, "You don't understand manga", so after that I wrote a story about an elementary school kid picking up some money and going on a detour… Kobayashi: What are you talking about? (everyone laughs)

Kishimoto: I was told that it was off, so I looked into it a bit. Well, I liked Dragon Ball, so I realized halfway through that I should draw something like Dragon Ball. It took quite a while, but I got there (Kobayashi laughs). And the ramen thing, which I thought was kind of lame, turned out to be surprisingly perfect for me, so I couldn't let it go. That's how the name Naruto came about.

Kobayashi: First thing is the Naruto name and that he loves ramen, Ichiraku ramen. Did you originally want to draw something about ninjas? Kishimoto: When I was doing the one-shot it was about monsters, and in that monster story it was originally a fox that turns into a human, and it was a mixed story between human and monster, but that deviated from that. Kobayashi: From the target? Kishimoto: It deviated from the target, and I quickly made it a human, redrawn it, and when I released it, it was approved.

Kobayashi: Indeed, we really did a lot of research, or rather, verification, but it seems like it's completely the opposite of the usual ninja stuff. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: When you think about it, ninjas are depicted as being very extreme, right? This is the world of the shinobi, or rather, it's about not letting them do that, right? Kishimoto: Yes. Since there have been quite a few up until now, like Sanpei Shirata*... (Mangaka of Ninja Bugeicho, 1959; Sasuke, 1967; etc) Kobayashi: Yes.

Kishimoto: I thought that if I did the same thing, it probably wouldn't stand out, so I did the opposite.

Kobayashi: With blonde hair.

Kishimoto: Blonde hair. Not Japanese, but foreign looking. And rather than dying, how should I put it, they're more about saving than hiding. One time I got a fan letter asking "is this character a ninja?". Kobayashi: Was it a simple question from a child? Kishimoto: A simple question from a child, and then I was like, Ah! it got off track again. (Everyone laughs) Kobayashi: The serialization had already started.

Kishimoto: But there was nothing we could do about it so we just went ahead with the deviation, and my editor at the time said it was fine to go with it, that this little deviation was fine. Kobayashi: Actually, this isn't off. Kishimoto: This isn't off. Kobayashi: That's why manga is so difficult.

Kishimoto: It is difficult. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Do you remember when the "dattebayo" line and things like that came about? Kishimoto: I was thinking about what a typical Jump manga protagonist would be like, and I thought that if a grandmother were to like a clumsy character, it might be well-received or liked. So, I thought of making him a bit awkward, like someone who can't speak properly or stumbles over his words, and adding a catchphrase like "Dattebayo" to make him endearing... Kobayashi: Slurring his words? Kishimoto: Slurring his words, I say. Kobayashi: You put in characters who were classmates, or people of the same generation, right? Did you think about that in detail? Kishimoto: No, I didn't actually intend for it to be like that, I just wanted the missions to be more detailed.

Kobayashi: I think I'll ask about that later. Kishimoto: Okay.

Kobayashi: There was a mission in Wave Country, right? Kishimoto: The Land of Waves exists, and this time the mission is in a different village where there’s a teacher and three subordinates. Then, some guys from a different team come out, and Kakashi's real identity is that he’s a rival to other teachers... Kobayashi: Kakashi had rivals outside (the village) too? Kishimoto: Yes, I talked with the editor about wanting to do it with that setting, but he said there’s no time to be messing around like that.

Kobayashi: Did he say something like, "There's no time to be dawdling around"? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: He said to release everything at once and to release characters all at once with others too. But he said, "Let's do it, let's have a tournament." I don't have that kind of strength right now. I'll die if I do that. But then I said I'll do it. I said I'll do it even if it means I die. Kobayashi: That's what the Chunin Selection Exam. Kishimoto: That's how the Chunin Selection Exam came to be. Kobayashi: The result of being rushed Kishimoto: So, I still kind of wish I could have done that (the missions).

Kobayashi: Actually, I wanted to see a few more missions too.

Kishimoto: Right? we decided on the characters on the spot. Even while writing the manuscript, if we didn't have any ideas, it was tough for a newcomer to create dozens of characters all at once...

Kobayashi: Here comes the newcomer.

Kishimoto: So, I asked the editor to design them for me. (Kobayashi laughs) The editor suggested something like an old Jackie Chan movie, and something really strange came up, and that was Gai.

Kobayashi: It was Gai and Lee. I see. But when I was listening to the earlier conversation, I heard that there was a system like this in the Land of the Waves too, of course with an academy, and when I thought about Kakashi's rival appearing, I heard that maybe this Gai version was planned for there.

Kishimoto: That's right. I thought it would be better to have a rival… Kobayashi: It actually wasn't from Konoha. Kishimoto: but I thought there wasn't enough of them, We set it up so that there would be a rival in our village. We thought it would be better to have that kind of setting, so we made it happen within a year. Kobayashi: Right. In other words, the Chunin Exam and the Hidden Leaf battle with Gaara are two different things, but they're all correlated, and yet they keep moving forward.

Kishimoto: During the Chunin Exam selection test, we gained popularity. But even though we were gaining popularity, the editor in charge at the time said that if we just let it end with a regular victory, it would be too ordinary. It wasn't the right time for a tournament. Kobayashi: This is not the time to be dragging your feet. Bang. Kishimoto: They told me, "Come on, this character named Orochimaru is going to come out and wreck everything. He's going to destroy the tournament". I had worked hard to introduce so many characters. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: That's true. Kishimoto: I was having fun wondering who would win and things like that.

Kobayashi: Even for you, were you subtly wondering who the winner would be on social media?

Kishimoto: I was planning on making it Shikamaru.

Kobayashi: Were you planning on making Shikamaru?

Kishimoto: Yes. That's right.

Kobayashi: Shikamaru's fighting style got really good in the Chunin Selection Exam.

Kishimoto: I had decided that only Shikamaru would become a chunin.

Kobayashi: Yes, yes, yes. And that's exactly what happened.

Kishimoto: I just wrote "IQ 200," but I don't have an IQ of 200. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: You digged your grave again. Just like with the Shadow Clone Jutsu. It would require someone with an IQ of 200 to write in such a way that they would think about other people with IQ 200, so it's certainly difficult.

Kishimoto: It's not that it's difficult, it's that is just impossible, isn't it? So I struggled with this, I really struggled.

Kobayashi: Let's keep moving the story along. No, in The Land of the Waves arc, we suddenly have the formidable enemy Zabuza.

Kishimoto: I think it would be better to show a strong ninja out of the blue, and then Kakaishi-sensei would get serious about it. I thought it would be easier to show Naruto and the other ninjas from the older generation in a real ninja battle...

Kobayashi: Growing towards that point.

Kishimoto: I thought it would be easy to understand that we were going to continue to do this, so I decided to show that first.

Kobayashi: But if you think about it, the settings that are introduced in the Land of Waves arc and continue up to the final chapter, for example, the Kekkei Genkai and the Sharingan come out one after another here, right? How far did you plan this out? Kishimoto: No. I think it would have been better to just go ahead and bluff it out here. Kobayashi: Were you bluffing from the beginning? Kishimoto: It seems like a bluff, so I didn't think about what would come next at all. Kobayashi: First, you just went ahead and created the framework. Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: So you're rushing ahead with the serialization while also thinking about it? Kishimoto: Yes, that's right.

Kobayashi: So you suddenly mentioned Sasuke's past, right? Kishimoto: He wanted to kill someone. Kobayashi: That there was someone he wanted to kill. Kishimoto: I was thinking that he'd have an older brother, and that he had done something bad. I had thought about that, but not much else… Kobayashi: It was quite vague… Kishimoto: That part was vague. Kobayashi: So maybe you just said that Itachi was just a bad guy?

Kishimoto: No, by the time Itachi was brought out I had already decided he was a good guy.

Kobayashi: There's circumstances that make Sasuke feel this way.

Kishimoto: At first, the Sharingan was supposed to be able to closely observe and copy the opponent's movements, but it gradually went in a different direction. Kobayashi: It's the first chapter in the history of world entertainment to be themed around eyeballs, and it went up to volume 72. Kishimoto: I never thought that the idea of ​​the eye as a Dojutsu skill would be so useful. (Kobayashi laughs) The Sharingan is mentioned in a very old story called The Tale of the Hero Jiraiya, in which it is revealed that Jiraiya actually has the Sharingan.

Kobayashi: Jiraiya, that one. Kishimoto: The character has it, and it's often seen in kabuki and other performances. However, if Jiraiya were to use it, his character would become too prominent, so we decided to give it to the Uchiha clan instead. Kobayashi: And Kakashi's has them, so it's like he got the eyes because of some kind of grudge or connection. Kishimoto: That's right. Why does he have those eyes when he's not a part of the Uchiha clan? That's what we make into a mystery to keep the story going.

Kobayashi: So, Kakashi's Sharingan comes from the Uchiha clan. I see, so that's what it was, one of the major recoveries, a part of the mission. There are three main characters in this concept, right?

Kishimoto: Rin, Obito, and Kakashi

Kobayashi: The photo of Rin, Obito, and Kakashi came out pretty early, right? Like around the fourth chapter or so.

Kishimoto: I wonder if there are any photos of Kakashi. I'm thinking about this for now. When I get back, I'll have him be Naruto's dad.

Kobayashi: Ah, had it already been decided at this point that he would be Naruto's dad? Kishimoto: It had been decided. Kobayashi: Ah, this had been decided? Kishimoto: It had been decided, at that time. Kobayashi: Ah, is that so? Ah, had it also been decided that Obito would be the Uchiha? Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: It had been firmly decided, really. Kishimoto: That's… Kobayashi: That was about 16 chapters in.

Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. We decided on that part too. Initially, it's not so much that we decided that the Fourth Hokage, Minato, was Naruto's dad, but rather that we thought we had to reveal that Naruto's dad was the Fourth Hokage. So we properly created the Hokage Rock with the Fourth Hokage's face, and originally, it was a dog's face, so the Fourth Hokage had a dog's face. Kobayashi: Dog? Dog as in dog? Kishimoto: Dog as in dog.Dog Dog. Well, there's that character with fangs, Kiba, right? So if there's a human with fangs, then why not have a dog become Hokage too, right? Kobayashi: It was a dog? Kishimoto: It was a dog. Kishimoto: Yahagi-san, editor Yahagi-san. Kobayashi: The person in charge?

Kishimoto: Yes, he told me I was off the mark again when I got there. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You'd finally managed to fix the misalignment, and now it's off again? Kishimoto: So, I decided to make him the protagonist's father. So it was decided on the first playthrough, sort of speak. Kobayashi: I see. So you were excited about that part beforehand. But, you know, with Kakashi, did you have some kind of premonition that he'd become popular? Kishimoto: Not at all. Kobayashi: Eh, speaking of Kakashi, isn't he the most popular character? Kishimoto: That's right. I had no idea why a guy like that would become so popular.

Kobayashi: Kishimoto-sensei, that's off the mark. (Everyone laughs) Kakashi is so cool, he's gonna be popular. Kishimoto: Why can you only see with one eye? (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Jiraiya is popular too, isn't he? Kishimoto: Jiraiya was really popular too. Kobayashi: I guess it's just that somewhere, are there any characters who are perverts at heart that become popular? Kishimoto: That's true.

Kobayashi: There's a "make out paradise" between those two. Kishimoto: That's why the characters I thought were cool and would be popular didn't become popular at all. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: Is there anyone else? This guy? Kishimoto: I drew Sai thinking he'd be popular. Kobayashi: Did Sai not become that popular as a character? Kishimoto: No, I also drew a character called Kimimaro thinking he'd be popular, but he pulls out his bones and turns them into swords and he seemed to be a little popular at some point, but the minute he pulled out his backbone he lost popularity.

Kobayashi: Did they have an allergic reaction? Women and such were like, "Wow, this guy is like this." What about Sakura-chan? Kishimoto: I drew Sakura because I thought she was cute. It's not that she's a girl's true nature, but I drew her realistically. Kobayashi: Her inner thoughts came first. Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: Like appearing in a TV show. (Like the confessionals of reality tv show) Kishimoto: I thought she'd be popular with girls, but it seems like they just didn't like her. Kobayashi: Don't like her? Was there a lot of people who disliked Sakura?

Kishimoto: Right. They said that little kids hate her, so we tried a lot of things, but they just backfired. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: They backfired. I'm sorry. It's a painful memory. Kishimoto: It's a painful memory. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: You didn't intend to make them fall in love with her like that, but that's how it is. But you know, we had a little meeting about why only Sakura is like that, and it turns out that the Haruno clan isn't depicted, or rather, it was in the movie, but not in the original work. However, not that far ahead; once the recognition system is established, the parents of each clan and their relatives are depicted, and they participate in battles. So, what's up with the Haruno clan? Why aren't they depicted? She's only one girl from an ordinary family, or rather, a girl without any struggles. Kishimoto: The truth is that Sakura wasn't popular, so even if we expanded on that... (Everyone laughs) Kobayashi: So the truth is because she isn't popular you wouldn't expand on it. Kishimoto: Right. (Everyone laughs harder)

Kobayashi: But once it's out you can't backtrack on it, right? The cover of volume 4, and the cover of chapter 4 already have the details of each summoning. Kishimoto: That's right, in chapter 4. Kobayashi: And wasn't it this? If it's already out here, we can't take it down now, right? Kishimoto: That's right. We have no choice but to keep going, so it was pretty much decided by this point that those three, Jiraiya, Orochimaru and Tsunade, would each become a mentor. Kobayashi: It's already being passed down.

Kishimoto: I drew this cover while looking at the faces of Hollywood actresses. Kobayashi: So you were trying to draw what is commonly called a beautiful person? Kishimoto: Yes. I was thinking of drawing a cute girl. I was sketching and so on. Naruto and Sasuke, I can just draw them quickly, but for this character [Sakura], I had to look at reference materials while drawing. Kobayashi: You were very careful about that, weren't you, sensei? Kishimoto: I was extremely careful. Kobayashi: If you could say it like that, you were pushing it. In other words.

Kishimoto: That's right. We were pushing her so hard that it didn't get through to her at all. Only Hinata kept getting more and more popular. I didn't draw Hinata much, and like Sakura, she wasn't doing much either, but her popularity was skyrocketing, so I thought maybe I should make her the heroine. I thought maybe I should make her closer to heroine status. That's why she has a bit of a standout moment at the end.

Kobayashi: I see, it feels like all the characters have been introduced, but the second part was amazing too. First, there was the mission to rescue the Kazekage from the Sand Village, the Tenchi Bridge reconnaissance mission, then the battle between Team 10 and Hidan and Kakuzu, Sasuke's formation of Hebi, Jiraiya vs. Pain, Sasuke vs. Itachi, Hebi becoming Taka, Pain's death, the Five Kage Summit, the Fourth Great Ninja War, Naruto vs. Sasuke, and then the epilogue. So, was there a specific reason for structuring it into two parts?

Kishimoto: That's right, in some parts, Naruto and the others are, well, let's say, weak, right? Kobayashi: That's right. Kishimoto: As expected because they're genins, the Akatsuki, which is like a collective of powerful yet disenfranchised enemies. Kobayashi: Akatsuki. Kishimoto: That's right, they're genin and the Akatsuki are a strong enemy that's like a collection of disenfranchised people but even the jonin can't do anything about them. Kobayashi: It's like even jonin can't catch them.

Kishimoto: So this is bad and for now I cut it and made them grow up all at once. I also wanted to change the clothes and so on, it's hard to draw this weird thing on the left shoulder, it's small, or rather the fluffy thing in around his neck, it hides his face when he lifts his shoulders or makes any movement.

Kobayashi: It was a bit wimpy when he was a kid. When he was a boy, it was wimpy and it got in the way when he was performing action. Even though it's neat like this, it still keeps you warm.

Kishimoto: I thought it doesn't look like a top garment if his neck isn't covered. I also added this headband here so that it flutters a bit and stands out when he performs action.

Kobayashi: Well, as we talked about Akatsuki earlier, Akatsuki was really exciting. As a reader, when all the silhouettes of the characters suddenly appeared, it was just too much. Itachi, Kisame, Pain, Konan, Sasori, Deidara, Hidan, Kakuzu, Tobi, Zetsu. My favorites were Hidan and Kakuzu. Kishimoto: Ah, that's the same for me. Kobayashi: Oh, really? Kishimoto: I like Hidan the best too. Kobayashi: I like Hidan the best too! It's like, this is what dangerous evil is, and I think it would be great if this kind of thing could be applied. I really, really like it. And the fact that two immortals are immortal for different reasons is also really interesting to me.

Kishimoto: That's right. At that time, I actually quite liked how the abilities were portrayed, so things like Hidan stabbing himself with the kunai and the feelings behind it. Kobayashi: This scene is great, he pierces himself and that causes damage to Asuma. Team 10 was great. Sensei previously said it was hard, but from here on it becomes a battle of IQ 200s, right? Kishimoto: With Shikamaru in it, it's a bit tough. Kobayashi: No, but this cigarette scene is really different from previous Naruto, it's a bit of a man's world, a grown man's worldview, you know? Kishimoto: It's surprisingly brutal, with heads chopped off and stuff.

Kobayashi: Yes, there was a scene where his head gets chopped off. Kishimoto: They said that couldn't be done in the anime. Kobayashi: I said that one line, but it made me a bit worried. Is this okay in today's world? Kishimoto: Well first, after being told that it couldn't be done, there was a discussion about changing it because Shikamaru smoking was also a no-go, but the editor said not to worry about it and just go ahead and do it. However, the higher-ups would always check with the editor each time, saying things like, "Isn't this a bit too much? It's a shonen magazine after all." Kobayashi: Would we be able to show this scene now?

Kishimoto: Add this here. Kobayashi: Add this and then cut the left and right sides. Kishimoto: It looks like it's peeking out. (Kobayahi laughs) Kobayashi: It's amazing, isn't it? This head rolls around and suddenly starts talking again. Kishimoto: I tried to hide the cross sections as much as possible. Kobayashi: I see, the cross-section is beautifully concealed. This lighter texture is also quite nice, isn't it? I think many people have asked you about this, but is Hidan still down below?

Kishimoto: Yes, so I think I could have dug him up and have him join the battle if I wanted to, but when it comes out, I still get carried away and have to hide all the cross-sections, so it would be tough. Kobayashi: I couldn't stand it if it became any more troublesome to draw, but Shikamaru's smoke stings my eyes. It was a clean story right up to the point where he just throws it away at the end, and yet the hard-boiled sense is quite rare even for Jump. Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Did Sensei was always into that kind of world? Kishimoto: Surprisingly, I actually like those kinds of movies and used to watch them a lot, so I ended up doing everything I wanted to do in a shonen magazine, even though it wasn't really appropriate.

Kobayashi: Well, Akatsuki isn't just an organization, it's got all sorts of intertwined intentions, some that even the other people don't know about. Did you give that a lot of thought? Kishimoto: There's places like that. Kobayashi: Around here? Kishimoto: In the real world, companies have started hiring mercenaries to engage in private wars, so I wanted to explore that. Kobayashi: Like a professional group. Kishimoto: I thought that if we introduced a leader who could bring everyone together, it would bring out a sense of charisma. So, I considered developing the character's profile with that in mind. Pain. Kobayashi: That's Pain. When he first appeared, he said he was conquering the world on his back. That scene was difficult, wasn't it?

Kishimoto: It was hard. Kobayashi: It's a scene looking down on the world. Kishimoto: That was hard to draw. Kobayashi: It really seemed like sensei was pushing himself too hard, he drew a lot of scenery seen from above the city. Kishimoto: I draw the rough draft to a certain extent, but my assistants do the inking and stuff, so I leave that to them. Kobayashi: This is another scene looking down at a different city, but did the assistant only do the inking, and the basic drawing is done by you, right? Kishimoto: I did the rough draft.

Kobayashi: Wow, this is amazing. Kishimoto: If it's not like that, the layout and feel of that time can't really be conveyed just by talking about it. Kobayashi: Indeed, the world view of this village is thoroughly filled with such elements. Kishimoto: It was the same with Pain. Kobayashi: This is it, right? The sensei wrote it, what was it called, the handkerchief? Kishimoto: This is that Bobobobobobobobobo manga. (Manga serialized from 2001-2005) Kobayashi: Oh, that's right, now that I think about it, the deadline is a week, right? Kishimoto: Yes, that's right. You only have about three days to draw.

Kobayashi: Three days. You can spare about three days. Since we're talking about illustrations, I would like to ask you a bit about that kind of artwork. You have a unique composition style, don't you? This is a fisheye perspective, right? It's a view of Deidara from above. And again, a fisheye perspective from above. Kishimoto: I quite like fisheye views from above. Kobayashi: "I like fisheye views from above" is like a tongue twister. Kishimoto: I really liked the feeling that the characters were standing on the ground, and Akira was also very precise about that.

Kobayashi: By Otomo-sensei. Kishimoto: I look at various pictures and draw them by changing the depth of the fisheye lens, like Otomo-sensei's fisheye. Kobayashi: Look at this cover of Chouji, the photographer left during the shoot. He said, "Please wait a moment." This is the kind of composition you see in Chihuahua photo books, right? This camera is really only used for skateboarding PVs and Funkiller AVs. Kishimoto: There's no way I would study while watching AV down here. That's not happening. Kobayashi: It's more like a sunview. Kishimoto: That's the image I had in mind…

Kobayashi: Haku, right? Kishimoto: Yes. The "bang" when someone is punched is a common cinematic technique known as double action. For example, when Jackie Chan punches an enemy, the camera slightly pulls back and then zooms in again, making the punch stand out. I wanted to create an image like that in this manga. Kobayashi: We were looking for something like this, showing the same scene from three different angles, and I had a question, in Naruto, even when he uses his signature move, there isn't a name for it at that moment, but his face isn't shown when he lands the move. Is this intentional? Kishimoto: I thought it would be cooler if his face was not shown.

Kobayashi: How is that cool? Kishimoto: If the face isn't in the picture, the attention goes to the body, right? To the back and the body. That way it feels like the body is speaking or expressing itself, but if you show face, the power of the face is so strong that it takes over, or rather, becomes the focal point of the scene. Kobayashi: Rather than talking about the expressions in this scene, you want people to just look at the dynamism and things like that. Kishimoto: That's why I actually have to draw faces in decisive scenes. Kobayashi: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I noticed that a lot, like when the decisive scene doesn't show the face, it's like a deliberate act, right? There were also scenes where the battle progresses from both sides, like in Sasuke vs. Naruto. Kishimoto: This is unique to manga, so it's not shown like a movie on a timeline, and you can look at either side from above and if you just look from above, you can see both at once. This is a manga-like presentation that I came up with, so I thought I'd go with that. It's more about matching or being the same... Kobayashi: Normally you have to read it like this, so now you can read it like this. Kishimoto: That kind of feeling. I tried to keep the details as simple as possible so that it's easy to read. I wanted it to be simple, so I didn't focus too much on the details.

Kobayashi: This is an incredibly complicated panel. Are you even listening? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: Yes, this area is… Kobayashi: To begin with, we abandoned the interrogation, and now it's a huge mess. So, what is this supposed to be? Kishimoto: I deliberately made it look this cluttered, so that you don't know where to look… Kobayashi: It was a chaotic battle. It was happening at an incredible speed. Kishimoto: I wanted to create something like in movies where the action is so fast that you can't tell what's happening.

Kobayashi: Like directing a production? Kishimoto: That's exactly it. Kobayashi: You were saying you'd put it out this next time but it was difficult to put out. You were trying to make it as simple as possible, so I think it's fine to put out this one. Well, the time is almost up, so I'll have to rush through this. Was the Great Ninja War really difficult? Kishimoto: It was difficult. They said "you will be experiencing wars from now on". By that point, it had been decided to go to war. I was trying to get him to experience war once and then face it, so he couldn't escape, or rather... Kobayashi: Well, I guess it's inevitable. Kishimoto: I thought so.

Kobayashi: It's like everything that has happened so far has come to light in these three wars, right? Kishimoto: There were a lot of things I hadn't been able to do before, but I wanted to tie everything together there, so I did that. So I did a lot of battles between old men, which is unimportant, like Hanzo and Mifune. And I did something that shouldn't be done in a boys' magazine, which was to have those old men clash in the first chapter of the volume. Kobayashi: A boys' magazine that violates morals. Kishimoto: The old man was getting a lot of heat in a boys' magazine.. Kobayashi: An old man's duel. Kishimoto: That's something you'd expect from Torishima-san (Editor in chief of Shonen Jump and editor of Akira Toriyama, author of Dragon Ball) Kobayashi: From Mashirito-san (Anagram of Torishima) Kishimoto: From Mashirito-san. Torishima-san asked me what I was doing and told me to bring out Naruto right away and that I didn't need the old men and I got scolded.

Kobayashi: But, sensei, please listen, is this the fight that the director in charge thought was the best about? Kishimoto: That's right. Kobayashi: Hanzo vs. Mifune. Kishimoto: That's nice to hear. Kobayashi: I think this is great. It's something that people who don't give up on things can achieve. As they fight, they remember things from the past.

Kishimoto: There's a seppuku scene, and I wanted to depict that. I'm gradually becoming an old man, so I feel like I want to depict that kind of seriousness. Kobayashi: How was it? How popular was Mifune in the boy's fantasy genre? Kishimoto: Not at all. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: No, it's cool, but you know, there was a setting where they branched out from samurai and grew up to become ninjas, and then they started fighting like ninjas. Kishimoto: It's not that. Kobayashi: It's not that because it's that samurai are samurai because they persevere. Kishimoto: They don't run away. Kobayashi: It's a well-portrayed scene, but it's a bit too much for shonen. Kishimoto: It was like "old men are fighting, I wish it would end quickly, I wish the main character would appear soon". (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: My favorite character in that match was the second Mizukage, I think? He kept saying his own weaknesses while fighting, like "Hurry up and defeat me" or "Am I strong?" I really liked this character. Kishimoto: Ah, that's right. Kobayashi: This one is still a bit old-fashioned for me, though. Kishimoto: This character was surprisingly popular. Kobayashi: It was great, wasn't it? He kept talking and revealing his weak points, defeating his opponents one after another, while telling them to defeat him quickly. Kishimoto: I thought it was kind of interesting.

Kobayashi: Edo Tensei was really difficult, wasn't it? Kishimoto: Yes, well, ever since the Pain arc, Naruto has been unable to just defeat, beat, and kill people to settle things. Instead, they end with discussions. It's something you shouldn't really do in a shonen manga, so from then on, when he fights, he considers who he is up against and what kind of person they are. Kobayashi: Like cultivated clones. Kishimoto: Because it was something that fundamentally doesn't exist as a living being, it couldn't be defeated.

Kobayashi: Did you have the fighting puppets decided on exactly what they would be? So that's why Edo Tensei meant that Jiraiya, Hidan who was buried and Konan who was scattered didn't appear, right? Kishimoto: I mean, I didn't want to bring back Jiraiya. Kobayashi: Well, he was a good character and had a good way of dying. Kishimoto: That's right. I couldn't write a better death than that one and in a sense, with Jiraiya dying, Naruto understood Sasuke's feelings about how it feels when someone important to you dies. If he were to come back, it would be a bit difficult to handle that. Also, I wanted to use Madara as a hook, so that's pretty much everything.

Kobayashi: I see, isn't that a bit of a complicated Rinne Tensei no Jutsu? Madara himself is quite complicated as well. Kishimoto: He is resurrected through Rinne Tensei and Edo Tensei, so it's a bit complicated how it works. Kobayashi: The forbidden technique of Edo Tensei, you see, with the element of Orochimaru, this brings out the connection with Kabuto in the battle. Throughout this, there has been a persistent push from Mr. Kishimoto and the main cast, and then there was the incident where Sakura received a love letter. Kishimoto: This is... a mislead story, but why did I put it here? It's because if the anime continues with the war, it will soon catch up with the manga. So, I created a gap here and then moved on to the next part.

Kobayashi: There was some outrageous fortune-telling involved in this love letter incident, wasn't there? Kishimoto: Did you also wonder what I was writing? (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: So, it's called a love letter, huh? I was wondering what I was writing. Wow, I got to hear some good behind-the-scenes stories. When you think about it, there were a lot of casualties, but why did Neji have to die in the war among the well-known characters? Kishimoto: Well, I had decided on Hinata as the heroine, so it was quite some time ago… Kobayashi: Ultimately Kishimoto: So, I wanted elements that would bring Naruto and Hinata closer together. There was a scene during the Pain fight where Hinata came out and said something, but this time, Naruto consciously says he's happy to have Hinata by his side. So, there was that aspect, and that's why Neji, well, let's just say...

Kobayashi: Well, it was the trigger. Kishimoto: Yes, well, it was like he was playing the role of Cupid, so I was a bit nervous about that. And then we basically decided on the name Boruto for their son. Kobayashi: Is that so? Kishimoto: Once we decided on it, Boruto was also known as Neji (they both mean screw), so the idea was to have him take on the name of the uncle who assisted Cupid… Kobayashi: Well, when I saw it, I cried a little. Kishimoto: We decided on Neji. Kobayashi: Is that how it turned out? Kishimoto: So from now on, for example, this might be a bit harsh, but if I were to write a manga about Boruto, then the scenes with Neji would be important.

Kobayashi: Is it okay if I play this now? Is it alright if I go ahead with this?

Kishimoto: it's alright.

Kobayashi: Thank you. Well, this match is really amazing, so let's move on to the final battle, Naruto vs. Sasuke. I haven't been able to hear much about Sasuke until now, though.

Kishimoto: They start off as rivals and then fight at the end as rivals to close it out. Kobayashi: What's that place called? Kishimoto: Valley of the End.

Kobayashi: Valley of the End. It took quite a while to draw out this ending, didn't it? It's been a long time since Sasuke left, hasn't it?

Kishimoto: Yes, it has been quite a long time since Sasuke flew away.

Kobayashi: That one is definitely longer.

Kishimoto: Sasuke was sulking the whole time.

Kobayashi: He's been sulking the whole time, hasn't he?

Kishimoto: While writing, I was like, "Who is this guy?" (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Eh, did you hate Sasuke? Kishimoto: No, there were a few parts where I was a bit more annoyed. But I think I understand what Sasuke does… Kobayashi: Well, I understand why Sasuke does what he does. Kishimoto: I wanted people to understand that, so I wrote it with quite a bit of emphasis, but surprisingly, I wasn't capturing Sasuke's character expressions well. I often had to tell my editor, "This isn't right; this doesn't look like Sasuke"... Kobayashi: Isn't this part of the face a little different? Kishimoto: It took a lot of fixing.

Kobayashi: Wow, so you were quite tormented throughout the serialization. Kishimoto: That's right, I was pretty much tormented by Sakura and Sasuke. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: So the journey up to volume 72 was one in which you were tormented by two out of the three main characters. Kishimoto: Yes, it was long and painful. Kobayashi: It was difficult. Kishimoto: And Kakashi is Kakashi, but surprisingly, since he only has one eye, it's difficult to convey expressions, ah. Kobayashi: I see, so his expressions are halved? Kishimoto: That's right, and that's why it was so difficult.

Kobayashi: Isn't this a cycle of hatred? We're talking about breaking the cycle of hatred, but we're actually creating more hatred, aren't we? (Kishimoto laughs)

Kishimoto: Yeah, that's right. So I was thinking about how to do it, and in the end, it really turned into a battle between men. I didn't want to resolve it with ninjutsu or anything like that. I wanted a straightforward fistfight. Gradually running out of strength and continuing to fight is, after all, the spirit of Jump. I thought, "Come on, just pull through," but somehow, it worked out.

Kobayashi: They say both of their right arms are blown off.

Kishimoto: Naruto being right-handed and Sasuke being left-handed, so he loses his left hand. In Ninjutsu, there is a tradition called Ninja Kumite where when two friends fight, they put one hand forward as a sign of reconciliation...

Kobayashi: It was a memorable scene.

Kishimoto: In the end, it seems like reconciliation is impossible or rather they're unable to due to the loss of their hands. I felt that these two didn't want to simply reconcile, nor could they, so it didn't seem like the right fit. The concept of reconciliation was similar to the conflict between Indra and Ashura, who were reincarnated. The hands of Madara and Hashirama overlapping are the representation of the symbolized reconciliation.

Kobayashi: I see. Kishimoto: So, I expressed it this way, with the two of them above, even though they don't have hands but still. Kobayashi: Well, sensei's character continued to suffer, but it's a great final scene. You know, these two really brought it about. Kishimoto: We've finally made it this far. That scene has been something I've wanted to draw for a long time, and it was a scene I hinted at at the end of part one, so I'm really glad to finally be able to draw it. Kobayashi: Yes, it's a relief, the daimyo are safe. This daimyo, when you look at him like this, he looks a bit like me. Kishimoto: The cat, that's the cat I have.

Kobayashi: Did it make an appearance? Is it okay to touch on this bit? I was quite moved by this cheer battle. It was kind of… Kishimoto: More like comrades… Kobayashi: More like comrades… I suppose the two of them are comrades, but I feel like I'm a comrade too. In the video, the three of us were standing. Me, Oda-sensei, and Kishimoto-sensei, the three of us were standing together. (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: Well, let's do that. Kobayashi: So you have some thoughts about it? Kishimoto: I think everyone has their own things going on, you know, it's just like…

Kobayashi: It's clearly written here, isn't it? Friends and rivals. A serialization that we did together for 15 years. Kishimoto: I'm grateful. I feel the same way and I want to convey those feelings to Oda-san. Kobayashi: It's not the first time I've seen something like this, but everyone has a valuable message for sensei. Kishimoto: That surprised me. Kobayashi: You didn't hear about it in the volume? Kishimoto: I wasn't informed about it. Kobayashi: That shows that he was an incredible sensei who left behind some amazing works, and therefore a very precious teacher. Kishimoto: Thank you.

Kobayashi: Well, there have been some announcements, like a new generation project. Kishimoto: Yes. Kobayashi: Do you have any plans like that for your next work? Kishimoto: Yes, you're thinking about what you want your next work to be Kobayashi: Their silhouettes are shown, but there is also a new generation project. Kishimoto: The fact that the children have appeared up to this point means that that's what it means, and that I want to depict them. Kobayashi: Seriously? Kishimoto: Naruto also makes a few appearances, but I think that Orochimaru, who didn't appear in the final episode, and Kabuto and Karin are connected, and once it becomes clear that there's a change of generation, then it'll be over.

Kobayashi: Well, there are things that have been announced, like the new generation project and so on.

Kishimoto: That's right.

Kobayashi: Do you have any plans like that for your next work? Kishimoto: Yes, I'm thinking about what I want to do with my next work. Kobayashi: The silhouette is reflected but it's also a new generation project. Kishimoto: The fact that we've included children up to this point means that that's what I want to depict.

Kobayashi: Seriously?

Kishimoto: Naruto will also make a brief appearance, but I think it will be complete once the connections with characters like Orochimaru, Kabuto, and Karin, who didn't appear in the final episode, clearly show a generational shift.

Kobayashi: Yeah, that's good. I was just thinking about Karin earlier. When I saw Karin's abilities, I honestly thought, "Wow, the teacher must be really stressed," but was that the hardest time for you? (Kishimoto laughs) Kishimoto: It was difficult. (Kobayashi laughs) Kobayashi: I think you had a lot of free time. Kishimoto: That's right. I was really lucky, but that was a really bad thing. Kobayashi: It's work that requires you to sit down, after all. It's a job that you can't do without sitting down. Kishimoto: That was painful. I think it was both the mental and physical aspects that built up a lot of stress.

Kobayashi: It's a sitting job, after all. It's a job that can't be done unless you sit.

Kishimoto: It was painful. Probably both the mental and physical aspects were affecting me, and I was quite stressed.

Kobayashi: Sir, it seems you've acquired some special abilities. In this world, I have high hopes that we might be able to see such things. Do you have any thoughts about getting something entirely new from Kishimoto-sensei in the next world?

Kishimoto: Well, of course, I thought about taking a break, but I just can't seem to settle down. So I called in an assistant and we talked together, and I guess I'll ask him to help me with some work and we talked about it.

Kobayashi: Is that so? So it's like it's actually moving around a bit. Kishimoto: That's right, so I want it to be like this, and like this, and with this setting and the main character is like this. Kobayashi: What's the story about? Kishimoto: That's a total secret.

Kobayashi: Well, right.

Kishimoto: It's a bit of a secret.

Kobayashi: It's a bit of a secret, isn't it? Is it wrong to ask about this sort of thing? For example, will it be in Jump?

Kishimoto: Weekly Jump.

Kobayashi: Weekly Shōnen Jump, etc.?

Kishimoto: Well, I want to, but only if I have the stamina.

Kobayashi: There's also G, you know.

Kishimoto: First, the surgery. (Kobayashi laughs)

Kobayashi: Ah, yes. That's the best. You should definitely be able to find more time than before. First, please take it easy, really. I know there are many things that make it hard to relax. So, let's talk about the highlights of the movie at the end. Please make sure to mention them here.

Kishimoto: I thought it was something I'd never done before, and if I was going to do it anyway, I should try a theme that hadn't been done in the main story or the original work, or something like that, so I thought it would seem new and interesting, and so I embarked on the adventure of trying my hand at a romance.

Kobayashi: It was more like a straightforward romance than an adventure. I got to see it, and actually, there's a work here that was written after the serialization ended. It's a gorgeous two-page one-shot.

Kishimoto: It took a while, so please check out those two pages. Kobayashi: Everyone please watch the movie too.

Kishimoto: I want you to watch this. Looking at this, well, I don't know if I should say it, but there are parts that were lacking in the manga that might still be completed, so I wanted to do it with Hinata.

Kobayashi: Please take a look, everyone. So, is this Naruto 10, which means it's cloe to the new year? Haven't they? Is this coming out next year?

Kishimoto: Yes, I think this will be quite moving next year.

Kobayashi: Will we also be able to see the colored illustrations by sensei?

Kishimoto: Yes, you can see it there. I haven't shown you my old setting materials and such.

Kobayashi: You were hiding it a bit today, huh? Well, I guess that's over there, over there, right?

Kishimoto: No, no, no, that's not the case. I just had a few notes lying around.

Kobayashi: Earlier, during the notebook time, it didn't come out easily.

Kishimoto: No, no, no, it's not good at all.

For some reason, Kishimoto's demonstration and whatever comment he and Kobayashi were making were muted in the video linked, sorry about that.

[killerzys]

Should probably post this on my venting account..oh well

[DO NOT ATTACK ANYONE THAT WAS MENTIONED]

Tw mentioning of cutting, say kill yourself, and F1zzyst4r

Please don't center me around this drama I'm not the one who needs the support Wenni is they have been a victim of F1zzyst4r for a year now I just want to simply explain.. how this has affected me.. but please show some support to Wenni and not me

More in the undercut

So there has been a lot on my mind been gone a few days so it feels a little bit more clearer

I do not want to meet the situation about me since I'm not the one who's being harassed Wenni has and I don't want to make the situation about me even though I am also being affected by it. Just not the way Wenni has been, that's why I have been scared to talk about how I'm feeling about Skittles.. and everything but uhh just because I don't want to make it about me I'm not the let's say main victim.. yes I have been harassed I don't know if was one of skittle's friends that told me this in my ask box but someone recently told me to kill myself and it threw me off

And for a while I felt forced to be friends with him (Skittles) I texted him before I blocked him that hey I felt forced to be your friend and it's making me uncomfortable.. I didn't say this part but the tracing also made me uncomfortable.. especially when it was clear that you copied someone else's design and is tracing someone else's art without credit or say oh yeah I make expired by this person inspiration, and now don't come attack me and say oh there's a few times that you didn't credit someone but as soon as someone say hey by the way maybe credit the person that gives you inspiration you @ them and I have I go back and edit pic or post and @ the person there is just sometimes where I get so excited that I forget but Skittles even after being called out and you're saying hey dude by the way maybe just give credit to the person that you take inspiration from Skittles is like erm actually they're tracing me!!

That's my point of view of how I see it and those other parts but I don't want to make this really long and boring to read

But I just mainly wanted to say how I've been infected by everything, after becoming friends with Skittles I thought they were kind and sweet they were to me but that's before I knew the full drama I did follow wenni on Pinterest for a while and seen little glimpse here and there last time I seen before I became friends with Skittles is that Wenni and Skittles were on good terms.. so I thought it was all right to be his friend, this whole friendship started because I made my old reference sheet of nighty, based off of on of wenni's old ref.. Skittles was like hey by the way maybe not copy me and I simply told them that I took inspiration from someone else that I didn't even know they were on the board, we became friends on Tumblr and talked, then I started getting targeted not targeted that's not the right word to say involved in drama that simply I was just watching from behind.. never had any attention to get involved with any of the drama but with my luck I somehow got into it because I was friends with Skittles.. I'm no longer friends with him and I feel free I feel safer now but I keep seeing the excuse of like his friends in my inbox "he made art for you and everything, he thought you guys were friends" just because you simply made art for me doesn't really mean anything I'm sorry? Like I make art for a lot of people doesn't mean I'm their friend I just think whatever OC or design I did was really neat and I wanted to draw it myself.. in the friend part I did see each other as friends but we never really communicated like we were friends.. we would talk to each other about the drama and I remember at some point I said whoever is tracing needs to own up to it now so this drama could be over and no one can get hurt or go through more mental health problems... But it seems that he didn't take that advice but oh well but other than talking about the drama and stuff we vented it to each other, there were a few funny moments but it's wasn't really friends? It was like that one buddy you see crossing the hall and you talk for a minute before going back to your class and then you don't see them for the rest of the year that's how it felt and before everything that happened I will admit I had a tad of a crush on Skittles but over time it started affecting me not in the greatest way... And I just lost all feelings when I got with my partner... And then at some point he would call me dear or something ? And sweetheart saying I'm sorry I think someone hacked my account acting all flirty with me which made me uncomfortable...

But besides that uhh he has now decided to text my mutuals or get his friends to do it I believe he's doing it because they are all anonymous and him or he got his friend to send something one of my mutuals inbox say hi by the way uhh river faked being friends with Skittles like a few times something something quite frankly I don't think you should be mutuals with them no more

Ok ok Skittles I see I see going to my mutuals telling them, that they should stop being friends with me because I stopped being friends with you because you're traced someone's art and copied many people's designs and when I tell you that I felt forced to be your friend and felt so uncomfortable and I unfollowed you which is a valid reason saying that I was uncomfortable and blocking you you're going to resort to going to my mutuals and basically harass them saying you should stop being friends with River, river is a bad friend you shouldn't be friends with them

Okay buddy like what? I've been trying to stay serious but the more I text this sentence the more I'm getting mad and the more I'm realizing the red flags that I should have realized from before... Honestly Skittles I hope you get help I hope you get therapy or something I'm not going to wish upon your death because honestly that's against what I believe which is nothing but like I don't believe in telling people they should kill themselves just because of certain actions I feel like they should get help now let's say if you were a pedophile now I would say kill yourself but does drama could have been resolved a long time ago if you just figured out your own art style who you are and stop copying someone to the point of copying that Wenni saying you have anger issues and trust issues ?

Wet Skittles I do wish that you get some therapy help mental help hell go to a mental asylum I don't care get help...

Now onto more stuff that like other things I've been thinking about

So basically going to my friends and harassing them

Having people go in my inbox harassing me saying like why did you stop being friends with Skittle kill yourself

It feels like you're using the fact that I used to have a crush on you against me and saying that we were friends because sometimes we made art for each other?

That's really it? Uh yeah I don't know this entire situation has just had me stressed about everything.. to the point where I'm having a hard time even drawing.. communicating with people talking and everything...it's really unbearable.. a few days ago I lost my streak .. because of this. The stress got so much that I took it out on myself I was almost 2-3 month clean..

[vyletbunni]

A while back you made some tweets criticising Undertale BnP for going off the rails with scope creep and how it would probably have had problems even if the lead dev hadn't turned out to be a creep, but since you've basically deleted your Twitter (and I've abandoned that shithole as well) I can't read them anymore. Would you like to spill the beans on what went down here for posterity's sake?

Cause I never played it but from watching playthroughs of it I was always kinda confused by how much new stuff was getting added (entire new areas in the Ruins, new bosses, a whole side plot with Undertale's version of Susie) for something I thought was just supposed to be an "Undertale with nicer graphics" mod and I was wondering if you knew how far it was going to go ultimately now the dust has settled around it.

It really came down to the fact that Blaize had no real foresight for any of the new features they came up with for the project. They introduced the EN mechanic, which was basically an Undertale equivalent of TP, and it was going to appear outside of the Suzy side story with zero use outside of giving extra gold. They had the connections system that had no purpose, nor did they really think of a purpose for it. It mostly just ruined the pacing of the scenes it was added to; SPECIFICALLY the Asriel scene at the end of the game.

They would frequently add Deltarune elements to the game, some of which would be removed for being stupid (notably the Spamton thing and the Monster Kid proceed thing). The Suzy side story especially was basically a Deltarune fanwork in disguise. You were going to run into Noel and Birdly (who you previously met in Snowdin and the Ruins respectively), and there was legitimately an area of Hotterland that was going to be called the "Meat Factory". That latter part really made me realize how strange the Deltarune additions were. Also, I was told that Suzy would be willing to kill because she didn't know she was killing them, thinking they were running away. It came from the same mind that thought Deltatraveler Obliteration route was bad because Susie went along with it.

Regarding scope creep, Suzy ended up not being the only side story planned for BnP. They wanted to go back to the other areas and give them their own side areas and side stories with the characters you travel with in those sections (Monster Kid and Papyrus). I was told the idea didn't get very far, but it's still like... Shouldn't you focus on finishing the main parts of the mod, first? Especially when all the other team members want to do that?

I always dog on them for the whole Meat Factory thing because I'm of the belief that not everything that is tangentially related to Gaster needs to be used, and "Meat Factory" is such a terrible name for what is allegedly supposed to be a normal area in the Underground. But yeah, that's the tea from my perspective.

[the-stove-is-divorced]

I have and I am SCREAMING IN RAGE.

Watching them now as we speak, and it's truly mind-fuckery bafflement they'll ADD commentary about how OBJECTIVELY WEIRD IT IS and then STILL DO IT ANYWAY. SO YOU KNOW IT'S WERID. YOU KNOW IT'S STUPID. AND YOU DO IT ANYWAY. Killing this ship with hammers. My bare first, even. May it implode. Why this endgame? Spare me from this agony. HOW HARD IS IT TO GIVE THEM A DECENT, CUTE SETUP?

The way the comic verison is the worst thing I've ever heard. How did we go from abysmal to still not impressive, or decent. I'm ??? I'm going to scream. I'm going to lose my mind. The rage is fresh so I'm hella more passionate rn, like WHAT? WHAT. I'm watching the third episode as I'm typing and I'm barely resisting to throw out the damn TV. When this mf was dying he thought about Eve? Y'all are not even dating. What the fuck. Not your mom? Not Oliver? Not Amber or William? Not your DAD? Even Eve's "it just makes sense!", is so... violently UN-interesting. What do they even add to each other to make them BE together? Why can't Make be single? Literally, I generally prefer my ships to be more freak x freak and with some inkling of unhinged-ness for entertainment (hannibal is a rom-com and i will die on this hill, lol), but there's nothing interesting about them TOGETHER. IT'S SO??? GENERIC AT BEST???

The way Eve has the same guilty thing going on with her parents as Mark does with his Dad and they still don't use that as a basis for their connection? Odd.

I am also going to scream because we legit had time to devote to Cecil becoming GDA director, PLUS A WHOLE MAYBE VILLAINS DO CRIME 'CAUSE CAPITALISM, but not any Mark/Eve proper buildup, ACTUAL team dynamics for anybody (we got some in s3ep3 is insane), Mark and Debbie dynamics, any exploration of Debbie as a person, which is killing me because that Cecil and Skull Lady fight slapped to me, (loved her design tho I was thinking about wedgies, lmao, nothing wrong with sexy fit it just made me snort). I am forever baffled by this show but I'm too deep to quit sjdksdkdkf. Why have all of this at once? I know episode count isn't their choice, presumably, but it all needs to slow down.

What's with Samson like you mentioned? Can he get something? Ever? Please?

Like Kate came back married and Amanda excitedly hugged her?? I was baffled. When have you guys ever been close? The snippets we get just make the previous absence feel even more jarring. Why don't we get team dynamics? I loved you mentioned Justice League in the tags 'cause that's a team (also b/c I am a Batman fan first, person second)! I know how they work, their banter, personalities, they include tidbits like Superman's birthday and what Bruce and Wonder Woman might give as a gift which add to their character! There's dynamics explored, too, it's not always a whole group.

I'd argue even showing whole new!GoG out of costume to display their fashion choices is easy way to subtly imply character. Does Kate like working out since she has to depend on her skill rather than enhanced ability? Is she sporty? Does Rex like attention grabbing wear? Neon bright colors? Would he or would he not wear a crop top. I say yes. LET THEM HANG OUT. ONCE. Like, Rex feels like the most distinctive one to me because his louder personality means they have to show dynamic, even if it's irritation or exasperation.

ART IMMUNITY IS SO FUN. Like truly the only untouchable guy in the world. No one dares lay a hand on him. He's got a thousand super hero/villain/vigilantes who need his designs. I'd like to think Nolan is so blunt and strange it's got an allure to it, like now Art has to now what his deal is because he knows everybody's deal. Art knows everybody, and everybody knows him. And yeah, Art dealing with villains all the time so he's like danger-blind to unsettling vibes, love if he wasn't exactly shocked or grieving the relationship as much post Nolan Reveal, like ah yeah, some people go rogue.

Mark is a special little guy to whole GDA LMAO. He's got that undeniable nepo baby vibe istg. The facts are the facts Cecil has meetings to intend but he's procrastinating by checking on Mark instead. Imagine the GoG truly rarely see Cecil except for alerts and are baffled Mark has frequent check-ins? Especially since they dgaf about Nolan. But truly why isn't Mark seen with them? He's not in college, and Debbie is shown to be more present than Mark is for Oliver, so what's he doing then? Like, Immortal was the outlier, and Cecil's Cecil, so?????? Why doesn't he???????

ALSO YES EXACTLY. THE FAMILY HAS TO BE WEIRD. It makes no sense why they aren't. It's like they popped into existence when the first episode began, where's the historyyyyyyyy. I demand Mark be a danger-blind, paper eating, mercury snacking, nepo baby. Give him a mentor too. Also let him be Oliver's main parent so Debbie can be a person, give her one hobby. Like does she find it difficult to care when tragedies arise? Is she strangely calm if a crisis occurs around her, or outright irritated it's happening at all? The latter is so funny.

Begging for Mark platonically interacting with literally anyone, him and Rex's "that's his fav finger :/" was everything to me. I am chronically deprived of mfs interacting.

Edit: I sound so furious but I still love and will watch this show, omg.

Also I saw mentioned in another post so I figure I'd just add here tbh, but utterly fascinated with how Oliver clearly needs a lesson in morality, like, not just being scolded and yelled at. Which I understand is part of Mark's flaw(s), his frustration and inability to explain the exact difference of when murder is okay, but I'm surprised Debbie and the GDA babysitter didn't make it a huge priority considering Cecil's worries. Heck, Debbie's and Mark's, too?

Honestly, love a fic where Cecil leaned into being a fatherly mentor figure to ensure Mark didn't go rogue, like not just check-in's or poking at the wound of Dad Issues to get Mark to comply. Including spontaneous lessons in morality or philosophy or how to strategize and put his power to use cleverly. Like, it's so strange we begin with a training session but don't really see it applied, and even Oliver seems stronger and faster than him, since Mark get stronger when enraged, but Oliver made the choice to fly faster and punch through a body? I know element of surprise but it just makes me tilt my head.

This is super long, but the yapper bug got me, haha.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[milkamel]

any other favorite ships or handcanons you like?

This made me think hard cause as a multishipper there are a lot of ships in my mind and I can’t name a certain one XD- And I already kinda answered that question so I guess I’ll list some headcanons instead :D (It’s gonna be the bad guys cause I love them lol)

Cross (as well as the other inhabitants of XTale) see the world in a limited color palette. His own AU looks normal to him when the others seem odd. (Like.. a color-blind kind of way??) Alternative bonus: or Cross might see the other AU’s colors normally, but it takes him a while to adjust to something so bright so he prefers to stay in the castle walls where the colors are dull.

Killer has to change his bed sheets and pillows every day cause his tears leak while he sleeps (bad dreams and memories make it more intense). Sometimes he doesn’t change them right away cause he’s too lazy but when it’s too dirty and uncomfortable he (or others) forces himself to.

Horror has issues with throwing away leftovers or anything food-related even if he knows that no one would eat them/it’s expired. As an alternative, he uses that stuff for compost to make sure that the little farm outside the castle always has fresh crops (Farmer was the one to suggest that idea). Even if he knows that they won’t run out of food he still wants to control everything related to food supplies.

Nightmare always says that he’s busy and doing paperwork which usually consists of planning out their future missions and counting their supplies but sometimes he just writes his own stories and doesn’t tell anyone about it. Just a little hobby to relax. Sometimes the stories are tragic and dark and sometimes they’re embarrassingly sweet and romantic. Anyway, the “paperwork” excuse sounds boring enough so no one would sneak through his papers.

Out of everyone, Dust is the closest who can be considered classic Sans (Horror as well) so he’s very lazy and can fall asleep anywhere. Kinda like a cat. So it’s sometimes hard to find him cause he might take a nap in the most inconvenient place.

[evostrashbin]

the curse of immortality (spoiler: Kiran is also on this picture 👍)