#We simply do not talk much at all anymore. It is too difficult to know what will get us into trouble these days. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pin-k-ink · 6 months ago

Text

transparent // dazai osamu

tw ⇢ sexual tension, teasing, groping, mention of a casual relationship, grinding, semi public sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex, blowjob, face-fucking

wc ⇢ 8.1k

The ambient bustle of the Armed Detective Agency's bullpen faded into white noise the second Dazai sauntered through the door that morning. As usual, every molecule of oxygen in the room seemed to realign around his presence - an inescapable gravitational pull you'd learned to resist through sheer stubborn will.

"Well, well..." That dangerous rasp curled upwards to greet your ears like a physical caress. "If it isn't my favorite co-worker looking bright-eyed and dangerously gorgeous as ever."

You refused to rise to the blatant bait, keeping your attention firmly affixed on the paperwork before you. Out of your periphery, you tracked Dazai's leonine prowl as he drew nearer, moving with that unnervingly predatory grace.

"No 'good morning' for me today?" he purred once near enough for you to smell the sandalwood tang of his soap. "And after I took such care with my appearance in hopes of stealing a smile."

That got you to cut him a sidelong glance - the tousled artistry of his chestnut locks, the elegant sprawl of his limbs as Dazai braced himself against the edge of your desk. One dark brow winged upwards leadingly, beckoning for you to drink in each carved angle and sinuous line.

You simply hummed a vague, noncommittal noise before refocusing elsewhere. This game between you two was too well-trodden to merit much reaction anymore. Dazai practically vibrated with sensual presence hoping to rattle you, to compel even the barest response. But you'd learned to ignore those silken ploys through sheer repetition and stubbornness.

"Oh, so we're going to be difficult today, are we?" The insinuation curled rich and buttery against the sensitive whorls of your ears. "You know how I adore a spirited challenge, gorgeous."

The subtle lean of Dazai's torso brought the smoky, masculine blend of his cologne into your atmosphere in dizzying concentration. You couldn't quite smother the infinitesimal stall of your lungs as that potent scent catalyzed unwanted responsiveness low in your belly.

Dazai didn't miss the reactive flutter of your lashes either. A low rumble vibrated up from the broad column of his throat as he straightened again, relieving the intimate invasion temporarily.

"We're early yet, I suppose," he mused, tone dripping arch self-assurance once more. "But not to worry. I plan on coaxing plenty of delightful sounds from those pretty lips before the day's through, my dear."

Allowing your eyes to slit open revealed Dazai leaning in once more, close enough for you to feel the whisper-soft phantoms of breath ghosting across your cheek like sin made solid. Close enough to drown in those heavy-lidded russet pools glittering with blatant promise and challenge.

"I do so look forward to seeing what other...responsive tells I can tease out of you next." The words all but vibrated against your own parted lips, laced with a blistering edge of confidence. "This game's only just begun..."

With that deliberately provocative murmur, Dazai swept away towards his own workspace with that distractingly predatory grace. Leaving you struggling to recover your equilibrium as heated tendrils of awareness sparked low in your abdomen despite your best efforts.

As much as you tried to bury yourself in menial busywork over the ensuing hours, you couldn't quite shake off the thrall of Dazai's electrifying presence. Of the effortless male potency that seemed to radiate from his very pores and cloud the air into near-solidity whenever you were in proximity.

He always seemed to find reasons to invade your orbit, crowding into your space under the flimsiest of pretenses. Dazai would stretch languidly, allowing that leanly muscled torso and the shadowed vee of his collar to present itself for shameless perusal.

Or he'd sprawl against the edge of your desk, one lean thigh brushing yours in seeming accident as those heavy-lidded eyes bored into you with simmering heat. Forcing you to confront the sensual geometry of his features up close and at dangerously point-blank range.

The air between you and Dazai seemed to grow heavier and more charged with each passing interaction. An undeniable, nearly tangible tension that thickened the atmosphere into an insulating haze of pure distillation.

Like the time you'd been bent over one of the file cabinets, digging through the lower drawers for an elusive case report. The whisper-soft pad of Dazai's measured footfalls was your only warning before the solid wall of his chest pressed flush against the curved line of your spine.

You jolted upright, ready to berate him for the inappropriate proximity. But Dazai simply hummed a low, distinctly satisfied rumble as you found yourself effectively pinned between the unforgiving metal and his firm masculine heat.

"There now, no need to panic," that treacherously rich timbre rasped against the nape of your neck. "I'm simply...appreciating the view up close for a change."

You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Dazai's hooded regard skating down the length of your trapped form in unhurried debauch. The subtle flex of his abdomen with each humid exhale pressed your lower backs even more snugly together.

Despite willing every nerve to remain impassive, your traitor body responded to the overwhelming physicality of being encased in Dazai's orbit like this. You swallowed hard, acutely aware of the thunderous trip-hammer of your pulse visible at the hollow of your throat.

Dazai's answering hum vibrated straight through to your very marrow, this one edged with dark sin and a hint of smoke. Then he shifted fractionally, allowing the insistent ridge of his cock to grind against the swell of your ass in blatant taunt.

"It's a perspective I really must take advantage of more often," he practically purred against your nape. "Don't you agree, beautiful?"

You opened your mouth, determined to unleash a scathing rebuke for his flagrant impropriety. But Dazai simply chuckled again - rich and indolent - before that scorching brand of his torso finally disengaged. Leaving you to sag weakly against the drawer front, ears ringing with fractures of your own wildly skittering pulse and Dazai's husky endearments.

Another time, you'd been rifling through the copy machine's depleted supply tray in search of a new ream of paper to reload. So absorbed in your simple task that you didn't register the weighted silence signaling Dazai's intrusion until he moved to loom at your back once more.

"Need a hand there, gorgeous?" The words dripped molten sin directly into your ear. "Seems awfully inconvenient having to crouch down like that in that tight little skirt of yours..."

Cheeks going instantly incendiary, you snapped ramrod straight only to find Dazai's smoldering regard searing directly down the generous vee of your blouse from over one shoulder. A deliciously wicked slant curved those lush lips as he drank in every flustered micro-expression flickering across your features.

"Although..." he mused, rich and resonant. "I can't say I mind the view from this angle."

Dazai leaned in slightly on the emphasis, allowing the solid wall of his torso to brush against the curve of your backside. Just a fleeting whisper of contact, but it seared like a brand all the same - sparking riotous consciousness of every place your bodies didn't quite touch.

You struggled to rally a retort, to summon some semblance of the withering composure you desperately clung to amid these escalating provocations. But Dazai simply slanted you with another heated sweep of that darkly weighted stare, effectively robbing you of both breath and cutting words.

"Then again, we'd hate for you to...overexert yourself in such discomfort, now wouldn't we?" The words dripped like poisoned ambrosia from between those sensuous lips you'd been trying not to fixate upon.

Before you could formulate a response, Dazai's hands settled in decisive arcs around your waist - pulling you snugly back against the rigid wall of his chest. Not ungently, but with enough deliberate physicality to send a tremulous frisson ricocheting through your nerves like skipped stones across a glassy mere.

"Allow me..." he rumbled, voice dropping to an even more dangerously resonant timbre that catalyzed your pulse into a thunderous gallop.

Dazai's answering chuckle against your nape made it clear he could sense every reactive shiver rippling through you. Yet he made no move to extract himself or relieve the overwhelming potency of being encased in the scorching orbit of his body like this. The silence grew thicker and more electrically charged by the second...

The tension almost became a living, breathing force unto itself - thickening the atmosphere around you and Dazai into a heavy, charged miasma. Every interaction seemed to crackle with unspoken provocation and heated undercurrents begging to finally breach the surface.

Like the time you were working late reviewing security footage from a stakeout, so absorbed in studying the grainy images that you didn't notice Dazai's approach until he materialized directly behind you. The solid bulk of his chest pressed flush against your back as those long arms bracketed the desk on either side, effectively trapping you in the scorching vise of his body.

"There you are, gorgeous," the silken timbre vibrated against your nape, raising delicious little contrails along your sensitized nerves. "Getting some overtime in, I see..."

You opened your mouth to issue a reprimand, but all that emerged was a strangled little noise as Dazai allowed more of his weight to settle against you from behind. The hard ridges and hollows of his frame etched themselves into the soft give of your body with delirious, molten precision.

"Now, now...no need for such an...enthusiastic welcome," he crooned, each consonant seeming to score tingling paths across your thundering pulse.

Dazai shifted infinitesimally, rolling his hips in a slow, suggestive grind that had you stifling a tremulous whimper against your will. You could feel the smile curving against the sensitive span of your nape as he luxuriated in your body's involuntary reactions.

"Although I must admit, I do love how...responsive you are to me, beautiful." The words emerged thickened by sin as one large palm skimmed up your ribcage and splayed with obvious possession between your breasts. "Makes a man wonder what other delicious little noises he could coax out with some...dedicated effort."

Despite your best attempts at impassivity, you couldn't quite restrain the full-bodied shudder that rippled through you at the lascivious implication. Dazai's hips rolled again - a pointed, insistent grind punctuating his velvety murmur as he leaned until you could practically taste the sandalwood tang of his skin.

"What do you say, gorgeous? Why don't we find out together..."

Another time, you'd leaned over to plug in your laptop charger that had come loose from the outlet, dress riding up to expose an indecent swath of thigh and backside. So focused on your search that you didn't register the telltale quiet until Dazai's heated rumble caressed your senses from somewhere directly behind.

"Well...hello there." The gruff rasp contained undisguised sin as you whipped around to find him looming at your back - chest only scant inches from brushing your own. "Now isn't this just a delicious view to stumble across?"

You couldn't even summon an ounce of outrage, too immediately arrested by the unapologetic heat blazing in Dazai's midnight regard. The way it seemed to physically scorch across your exposed skin, raising delirious inflamed prickles.

Dazai allowed his stare to streak down the length of you in one unhurried, carnal sweep. When his russet gaze finally battled back up to lock with yours at eye-level, you felt like every molecule had been methodically undressed for perusal despite remaining clothed.

"You know..." He rasped at last, pitching his timbre around the words like a physical caress. "For someone who so adamantly claims they're not trying to tempt certain...responses...you certainly have an interesting way of presenting yourself, beautiful."

On the emphasis of that last word, Dazai allowed his upper body to roll forwards in one languid swell - forcing your spines into heated alignment as he crowded you snugly back against the desk. You couldn't stifle the sharp inhalation as sinuous muscle and blistering male heat surrounded you in a searing brand.

The low, humming growl Dazai released seemed to reverberate straight through to your very marrow. You shuddered despite yourself as his broad palms mapped the flare of your hips in a scorching, proprietary glide that stopped just short of indecent territory before retreating slowly.

"Well then, I certainly can't fault your...presentation," he husked, the words ghosting across your thundering pulse point. "Although you're making it dreadfully difficult for a gentleman to retain his composure around such blatant temptation..."

The thick, luxurious weight of the tension binding you and Dazai together grew heavier and more insistent with each passing encounter. until it felt like a living, breathing force of nature unto itself. An elemental power that threatened to finally shatter whatever fragile truces still existed between you.

Like when you reached above your head to reshelve some files, causing your blouse to ride up and expose a tantalizing strip of toned abdomen. You didn't hear Dazai's silent approach over the whisper-shush of papers until the solid wall of his torso pressed flush against your lower back.

His palms settled with scorching possession around your waist, fingers splaying to maximize contact as Dazai effectively pinned you between the searing brand of his body and the shelving. A rumbling purr of approval reverberated straight through you as he allowed his hips to grind in one molten, indolent roll.

"Well, well..." The words dripped molten sin against the nape of your neck, raising delicious frissons. "What an absolutely tantalizing surprise to stumble across..."

You couldn't quite restrain the tremulous whimper that slipped free at the insistent outline of his dick nestling against the cleft of your backside. Dazai answered with a darker, smoke-edged growl of blatant male satisfaction deep in his chest - the sound catalyzing a betraying spire of heat in your core.

"So responsive," he rasped in carnal delight. "I'd wondered just how far I'd have to push before coaxing those pretty little sounds out of you again, beautiful."

One calloused palm stroked up the vulnerable inward curve of your waist in a lingering caress. Then Dazai splayed those sinful fingertips across your abdomen, the brand of his touch raising molten wildfires in its wake as it slowly wandered higher.

"Although now that I've heard them..." His teeth grazed the thundering thrum of your pulse in a searing graze. "I seem to find myself utterly incapable of resisting the urge to hear them again. And again..."

He punctuated the delirious promise by flexing his hips with pointed emphasis, forcing your lower back to arch in order to maintain that scorching point of contact. You heard yourself keen softly in a plaintive, needy rasp that only seemed to stoke the banked wildfire in Dazai's smoldering stare to searing new heights.

"There it is..." The timbre emerged nearly unraveled into gravel now as he sealed you flush once more. "Sweeter than any symphony, wouldn't you agree, gorgeous?"

Another time, one of Dazai's hands settled low on your hip as he leaned around you to reach for a file you were reviewing. Instead of extracting himself afterwards, he allowed the solid brand of his torso to remain locked against you from behind as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Even with you facing the wall, you felt the scorching weight of his hooded stare caressing the exposed nape of your neck. Each measured exhalation feathered across those sensitized nerves in delirious, searing contrails guaranteed to raise prickles across your skin.

"You're awfully tense, beautiful," Dazai rasped at last with that rich, dripping insinuation. "And after the long day you've endured, so focused...so disciplined..."

His free hand settled at the dip of your lower spine, callused fingertips trailing up in a lingering glide that catalyzed your pulse into a molten gallop. You couldn't quite suppress the tremulous shiver despite willing every molecule to remain composed and unaffected by the branding possession of his touch.

"Don't fret," he murmured, chin dipping to graze the fragile whorl of your ear as his palm continued meandering ever higher. "I'll be sure to take...such exquisite care in relieving that tension for you."

One broad splay spanned the expanse between your shoulder blades, allowing the solid brand of his forearm to pin you flush as Dazai's hips rolled in a suggestive grind. You couldn't quite muffle the choked whimper that slipped free despite your best restraint, scalp tingling beneath the rasp of his answering chuckle vibrating against your nape.

"There now...isn't that better already?"

After weeks of the escalating tension and suggestive encounters between you and Dazai, he finally decided to change tactics. One afternoon, after another heated brush of intimate proximity had left you both simmering, Dazai caught your arm gently as you tried to make your escape.

"Enough games between us, don't you think?" His tone was low but serious, none of the usual honeyed taunts coloring the words. "We both know this delicious dance can't go on indefinitely before one of us combusts entirely."

You opened your mouth, not sure if you intended to feign ignorance or finally give voice to the crackling awareness stretching between you. But Dazai merely shook his head, holding up a hand to forestall you.

"Don't bother denying the heat, beautiful. We're both too far down this road to keep playing coy." His gaze bored into yours with surprising intensity. "Which is why I have a proposal for you - a way for us both to finally scratch this undeniable itch that's been driving us slowly mad."

Interest and trepidation warred within you as you regarded Dazai steadily. He seemed to read the conflict because one side of his mouth kicked up in a slanted smile, but not the usual teasing curl. This one was weighted with quiet promise.

"Hear me out," was all he said, letting the susurrant words hang pregnant between you. "I'm prepared to make you an offer, gorgeous...one that will allow us both to have what we've been craving with no more teasing or games involved. If you're amenable, that is."

For once, you found yourself speechless under the solemn intensity of Dazai's regard. He was clearly offering a way to finally resolve the explosive tensions building between you, laid bare with none of the usual dazzling deflections. The decision rested entirely with you now.

After a pregnant pause where you searched his expression, you gave a measured nod. "I'm listening..."

Dazai's gaze remained steady and unflinching as you indicated your willingness to hear him out. For a protracted beat, the weighted silence stretched taut between you - alive with the same sparking undercurrents that had been slowly reaching a simmer over the past several weeks.

"What I'm about to propose may sound a bit...unconventional," he began at last, rich timbre stripped of any extraneous inflection. "But I think we're both finally ready to acknowledge that there's something undeniably potent between us. A craving that's only going to keep escalating until it finally explodes in spectacular fashion."

You felt your breath hitch despite willing your lungs to remain steady. Dazai's manner was severe now - bereft of any lurid suggestions or honeyed come-ons. This side of him felt almost dangerous in its solemn intensity, drawing you in like a cobra's mesmeric dance.

"The way I see it," he continued after a charged pause, "we have two choices before us. We can keep playing these delirious games, circling one another until the inevitable conflagration consumes us both in riotous ruin..."

Dazai allowed his smoldering stare to streak down the feminine lines of your body in one ponderous sweep before returning to lock with yours. The sheer corporeal weight of his appraisal raised exquisite tendrils of heat despite yourself.

"Or we could...indulge ourselves a bit. Satisfy this relentless craving in a controlled manner before it spirals entirely out of hand."

The meaning behind his quietly purred suggestion catalyzed a wildfire of its own inside your veins. You couldn't quite mask the reactive shiver that rippled through you, though Dazai didn't seem to fault you for it. He simply tipped his head a fraction, maintaining that weighted connection between your locked stares as he allowed the implication to sink in.

"Just a temporary arrangement between colleagues, you understand," he clarified after a protracted beat. "No strings, no pesky romantic entanglements to complicate matters further. Just two consenting adults sating this rapacious hunger that's becoming so painfully... insistent."

Each husked word felt like searing little brands scoring across your nerves - stoking the already molten kiln banked low in your abdomen. Despite the clinical way Dazai couched his proposition, the subtle langue of his body seemed to bleed with darker promise as he shifted fractionally closer into your space.

"Think about it, beautiful," he rumbled, pitching the entreaty to detonate against the sensitive whorls of your ears. "All of this delicious tension finally allowed to unspool in unbridled release. No more restraints, no more teasing folly - just the sweet rapture of indulgence you crave as badly as I..."

The deliberate roll of Dazai's formidable torso brought his intoxicating musk crashing over you in dizzying waves. You swayed automatically towards the epicenter of that sensual gravitational pull despite your better instincts. Close enough to feel the branded caress of each measured exhale fanning across your thundering pulse.

Close enough to be utterly transfixed by the smoldering mural unraveled in smoked whiskey and molten onyx as Dazai searched your expression for rejection - or acquiescence.

"So tell me," he rasped at last, voice descending into a ruinous timbre that resonated straight through to the hollows of your marrow. "Do we finally break this sweet torture between us, gorgeous? Or keep stoking the embers until we incinerate ourselves entirely?"

The razor-edged promise hung in the electrified space twinned heartbeats seemed to suspend entirely. Dazai simply held you transfixed with that pointed, infinite stare - allowing his words to fully permeate your awareness and render you weightless in their wake.

For once, you realized with dawning inevitability...you didn't actually have an objection to voice.

You held Dazai's piercing gaze, feeling the weight of his proposition settle over you like a heavy mantle. The suggestion of a casual, no-strings arrangement between you hung thick in the air, heavy with unspoken caveats.

Deep down, you knew there was no way to keep things impersonal or detached if you went down that path with Dazai. The sheer smoldering intensity between you, the steadily simmering hunger you saw reflected in his russet stare...it carried an inexorable gravity that would consume you both entirely if unleashed.

For a suspended breath, Dazai simply watched you digest the implications in silence, mahogany eyes glittering like polished obsidian. Then you saw a muscle feather almost imperceptibly along the stark line of his jaw as you failed to immediately agree.

"Or perhaps..." His rumbling timbre emerged roughened by sin and smoke. "A more... permanent arrangement might be in order between us after all, hmm?"

Your indrawn breath felt approximately as loud as a sonic boom in the weighted quiet. Dazai didn't so much as blink, maintaining his leonine scrutiny as you tried to process that molten undercurrent suddenly shifting between you.

The very air itself seemed to thicken and constrict around you both, alive with the sparking frissures of unraveling tension. Whatever this was rapidly metastasizing into felt too profound, too utterly cataclysmic to be sated through mere indulgence any longer.

As if intuiting the trajectory of your thoughts, Dazai's full lips curved into a slanting, almost feral approximation of a smile that sent delirious tendrils of heat barreling outwards.

"Yes... I can see it in your eyes now, beautiful." He veritably purred the words into the electrically charged space twinned heartbeats seemed to suspend into breath-held entropy. "This is quickly evolving into something more insistent. More..."

Blazing overhead lights turned his irises into molten eclipses as Dazai allowed his hooded stare to openly devour you once more. Mapping every micro-shiver and telling flutter as his body seemed to radiate waves of tactile seduction without closing the scant distance between you.

"Insatiable," he concluded at last, the tone pitched to detonate with exquisite precision against every nerve in wanton detonation. "Something that won't be so easily slaked through fleeting capitulation between us, hmm?"

The weighted assessment hung in the electrified tension like the string of a bow drawn taut to near snapping. You couldn't even formulate a reply, too transfixed by the banked inferno steadily spiraling into unchecked wildfire behind Dazai's uncompromising mien.

Then his jaw flexed almost imperceptibly before he allowed an exhale to shudder free in humid duress. "Very well then..."

Before you could even process the words, Dazai surged forwards into the scant inches separating your bodies with leonine grace. The sudden, shockingly intimate collision of his larger frame with yours obliterated whatever feeble scraps of space still remained, searing a brand of delirious heat down every straining nerve ending.

His fingertips seared like molten possession bracketing the soft knolls of your hips as he pressed the irrefutable ridge of his arousal against the cradle of your lowermost curves in a slow, purposeful grind. A starburst of whited-out rapture detonated behind your ribcage at the unapologetic insistence of the motion.

"If total... profane consumption is what you require," Dazai husked against the overheated thrum of your pulse, "then that's precisely what you'll receive from me, beautiful. No half-measures, no restraints..."

The deliberate sweep of his nose nudged yours fractionally to one side, catalyzing twin gasps that mingled with heady potency in the scant space separating your dually parted lips. Searing molten onyx held you hypnotized and weightless, transfixed beneath the intensity of Dazai's smolder as he sealed the vow in that final, scorching murmur.

"I'll simply have to raze you down to your very atoms...and rebuild you entirely anew as mine."

The finality underlying Dazai's vow catalyzed your surrender like a stone finally yielding to gravity's inexorable pull. You couldn't resist the delirious whirlwind of sensation as he closed the last few inches - mouth crashing against yours in a searing, possessive brand.

Dazai kissed you like a man hungered, all simmering restraint finally shattered into dust beneath the onslaught. His tongue swept between your lips in blatant possession, igniting every receptor into feverish communion as you arched helplessly into the scorching demands of his larger frame.

One broad palm anchored your nape, angling your parted mouth to deepen the onslaught as Dazai's other arm banded around your waist. Lashing you flush against the exquisitely hewn planes of his torso in a searing, rapturous grind that stole any last lingering objection you might have harbored.

His growl of dark triumph rumbled straight through your bones as you melted completely beneath that sensual siege - thoughts unraveling into rapturous ash as you finally surrendered to the devouring provocation of Dazai's kiss. Allowing yourself to be plundered with ravenous, openmouthed sweeps that curled your very toes and liquified your bones.

When he finally wrenched his mouth from yours in clear defiance of needing oxygen, you swayed numbly in the aftershocks. Ambient reality felt scorched away by the elemental entropy now rapidly consuming you both in its path. The only remaining anchor was Dazai's half-lidded stare - a molten supernova holding yours effortlessly transfixed as your chests heaved in unison.

"There now..." His graveled growl whispered across your swollen lips, arms still banded in inescapable possession. "Doesn't giving in feel so much better than fighting me at last?"

You could only manage a tremulous, soundless nod - still too thoroughly undone to rally any response beyond instinctively arching for more searing contact. Dazai made a pleased rumble deep in his chest, holding you pinned against the rigid contours of his body by sheer corporeal dominance.

Then his mouth crashed down again in another possessive onslaught, tongue stroking between your lips in blatant avowal of control. He walked you backwards with a series of inescapable grinding steps until your back met the solid resistance of a nearby wall. Caging you there in the vise of his larger frame as his mouth plundered deeper.

You clutched at any available anchor, fingers snarling through the crisp strands at his nape in a desperate bid to ground yourself amid the delirious whirlwind. But there could be no bracing against Dazai's onslaught, only utter surrender to the maelstrom.

He growled visceral approval at your mindless responsiveness, hips angling to bracket yours in scorching emphasis as one broad palm mapped down your body.

A strangled moan spilled from your lips at the molten drag of his hand across your waist, down the flare of your hips, around to splay against the exposed vee of your inner thigh.

"Look at me," he husked, waiting until your hazy eyes dragged up to his. Then Dazai rolled his hips in a slow, sinuous grind - making sure you could feel the rigid line of his arousal through the confines of his slacks.

"See how utterly wrecked you've left me, gorgeous?" The words vibrated against the fragile whorls of your ear, raising delicious goosebumps. "That's how I've felt since the moment you first walked in here. And now, finally..."

His voice trailed off, allowing the scorching implication to speak for itself as Dazai flexed his hips in another pointed, searing roll. Your eyes practically rolled back in your skull as the pressure ignited a wildfire of need, a molten cascade of sensation that pooled low in your abdomen with alarming speed.

"But I'm not the only one, hmm?"

Those dexterous fingers inched higher along your inner thigh, skating up the tingling span to hover just shy of where you desperately ached for him. You shuddered, unable to contain the tremulous little gasp that spilled free as your hips automatically canted towards the delicious torment.

"You're equally ruined, aren't you, beautiful?" Dazai's words seared directly into the tender shell of your ear, setting each delicate nerve alight. "I can see it in those gorgeous eyes. The way you melt into me like a kitten seeking affection, aching for my touch..."

You moaned deliriously as he allowed his fingers to skate the sensitive hollow just above your hip, dipping beneath the hem of your blouse. Each stroke raised exquisite frissons along your spine as you strained for more.

"Don't fret, sweet girl..." Dazai murmured, voice dipping even lower as his fingers continued mapping higher. "I'll make sure we both get exactly what we crave. What we've needed since that first meeting in my office..."

When his fingers finally delved between your thighs, parting the fabric to tease along the wet cleft within, your head fell back in utter surrender. Eyes slipping closed at the overwhelming surge of pleasure that rocketed through you, searing every receptor into ecstatic communion.

"Yes," he rumbled darkly against the vulnerable slope of your neck, mouth trailing a series of scalding little bites in his wake. "I'm going to make sure we both unravel and find exquisite ruin together, sweet girl. But first..."

Those long, elegant fingers finally found their target, sliding against the slick center of your desire. You cried out, spine arching as Dazai's thumb stroked a deliberate path across your throbbing clit.

"I think it's only fair to return the favor, don't you?"

Then he sank two fingers into your welcoming core, the stretch forcing a sharp keening sound from your throat. Dazai released a rough purr of approval at your reaction, laving the stinging bites with the soothing flat of his tongue as he slowly pumped the digits.

"That's it, beautiful," he crooned against your thundering pulse. "Give me everything. Let me hear how utterly wrecked you are already."

Each thrust stoked the embers blazing into wildfire inside you, turning your muscles into liquid flame as the molten rhythm built. Dazai's mouth crashed against yours in another searing kiss as the fingers curling deep inside you stroked incessantly.

You surrendered completely beneath his relentless siege, the only thing holding you upright being his solid frame bracketed against yours. Each thrust stoked the molten flames higher, driving your senses into a delirium until the world narrowed down to the incendiary rhythm between you and Dazai.

A keening wail erupted from your lungs as the pleasure coalesced, cresting and exploding behind your ribcage in a devastating implosion. Dazai's answering groan felt like the sweetest reward as he drank in every tremulous sound and reaction.

As the tremors slowly receded, you became dimly aware of his lips grazing the crown of your head as he carefully withdrew his fingers. Your thighs trembled in the wake of that intense climax, but Dazai merely gathered you against his larger frame.

"That's it, gorgeous," he rasped against the shell of your ear, the timbre thick with lust. "You've been so good, letting me take you apart completely. So good for me, my sweet girl."

The praise made you whimper softly, a shiver rippling through your limbs as the last lingering sparks of rapture finally dissipated. When you managed to crack your eyes open again, Dazai's expression arrested you instantly.

His pupils were blown wide, nearly overtaking the irises entirely. Those full lips were reddened and slightly swollen, the lower still gleaming wet from his ravaging kisses. Dazai's chest was heaving as if he'd run a marathon, but his hold remained steady as he continued murmuring quiet praise into the crown of your head.

"There you are, sweet girl," he rumbled, a crooked little grin twitching across his features. "Still with me?"

Your head managed a feeble little nod, earning an amused chuckle. Then Dazai tipped your chin up until his searing gaze bore into yours with palpable intent.

"Good, because we're far from finished," he warned, the graveled timbre resonating through your bones. "I've wanted you for too damn long to be satisfied with a single taste, sweet girl. Once is going to be nowhere near enough."

You shivered at the unabashed promise, though couldn't quite muster a rebuttal. Not when the molten embers inside you were already roaring back to life beneath the searing heat of Dazai's stare.

"Now, where shall we begin?"

He pondered aloud, tilting his head to one side as he surveyed the options. His free hand wandered lower, tracing idle patterns along the slope of your spine as Dazai considered his options. You could practically hear the gears in his head whirring.

Then his gaze sharpened, honing in on something before a wicked grin split his features. You opened your mouth to inquire, but the words dissolved into a sharp gasp as Dazai seized a handful of your ass and squeezed hard.

"I've had plenty of time to fantasize about this pretty little rear, you know," he murmured against the sensitive whorl of your ear, eliciting shivers. "So many nights wondering just how good you'd look bent over my desk, ass presented and waiting for me..."

Another squeeze, harder this time as he pulled you tighter against the ridge of his erection. Dazai rolled his hips languidly, eliciting a whimper at the delicious friction.

"And the best part?" His voice dropped to a smoke-edged rasp, the timbre reverberating straight through you. "Now I finally get to find out."

Dazai didn't give you time to formulate a reply before he turned, steering you through the maze of desks with a firm hand on the small of your back. He paused once you reached the large executive desk, turning to survey the scene with obvious approval.

"Right here, sweet girl," he purred, fingers drifting down to unzip your skirt and allow it to puddle at your feet. "This will do nicely, don't you think?"

You managed a tremulous little nod, unable to resist leaning into his touch as Dazai guided you towards the edge of the desk. Your hands settled atop the cool surface for balance, and he gave a soft hum of approval at the sight.

"Such a good girl, aren't you?" He praised, calloused fingertips stroking the sensitive flesh along the backs of your thighs. "So eager to please. And you've been doing such a splendid job so far, my sweet."

A tremulous little mewl slipped free at the gentle strokes. You shifted restlessly, arching for more.

Dazai released a rumbling purr, the sound thick with satisfaction as his palm curved around the flair of your backside. The other hand reached for the waistband of his slacks, easing the zipper down as his thumb stroked along the line of your thong.

"I can't wait to get my cock inside you," he rasped, the filthy words causing a shiver. "To feel this perfect little cunt wrapped around me. So tight, so wet...and all for me, gorgeous."

His palm cupped one cheek, kneading gently as Dazai rocked his hips forwards. The ridge of his erection dragged across your slit, parting the fabric with its insistent press. Your mouth fell open in a soft whine at the delicious friction.

"I bet I can even make you scream," he husked against the nape of your neck, rolling his hips again. "Make you fall apart all over my cock as I fuck you right here, bent over this desk."

His palm cracked against the supple flesh, the sound reverberating through the air and causing a sharp cry. A second stinging smack followed, then another. Dazai's mouth roved against your shoulder blades as his hand kept punishing the swell of your backside.

"Just the thought of that has me rock-hard already," he growled, punctuating the vow by grinding his hips forwards once more. "Imagining you all desperate and dripping wet for me, aching for release."

The words alone were almost enough to tip you over the edge. Then the hand palming your backside slipped between your thighs, teasing the fabric covering your soaked slit. You gasped, canting your hips instinctively for more.

"Mm, just like that," Dazai murmured against the nape of your neck. "My sweet girl wants to be fucked, doesn't she? She's so eager, so responsive..."

One finger hooked beneath the fabric, tugging it aside. You could feel the blunt press of his erection nudging between your thighs, so close to finally entering you. The anticipation ratcheted even higher, a delicious tension.

"I've waited far too long to finally claim you, gorgeous," Dazai husked, voice thick with lust. "And I fully intend to take my time with you, sweet girl. But right now..."

One broad palm splayed across the expanse of your lower back, pressing your torso flush against the polished desktop. Your legs were spread wide, and you were held pinned in place by Dazai's weight bearing down behind you.

"Right now," he repeated, the words resonating with finality as his hand wrapped around your waist, fingers curling into the wet fabric of your panties. "I'm going to fuck you the way we both desperately need. Hard and fast, until I've completely ruined you for any other man. Is that understood?"

You managed a frantic little nod, eyes clenched tightly closed as you waited. Every nerve felt alight with anticipation, breath held in suspension.

Then, without any warning, Dazai snapped his hips forwards in a punishing thrust. You cried out sharply, unable to muffle the keening sound at the sudden penetration. His cock drove impossibly deep, filling you so completely you could almost taste him at the back of your throat.

"There now..." He rumbled dark approval, hand stroking up your spine in a soothing gesture. "So beautifully tight around me. You take me so well, gorgeous."

His hips began to move, rocking into you in slow, torturous motions that stoked the inferno burning higher. Each stroke was exquisitely thorough, each thrust bottoming out and sending a delicious jolt up your spine.

Your hands scrambled for purchase against the smooth desktop, seeking an anchor amidst the relentless sensual onslaught. You could feel every inch of Dazai's cock pistoning inside you, could hear the filthy little grunts of pleasure each time his hips snapped forwards.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" His voice emerged in a rough growl, the timbre nearly unraveled with the force of his need. "Being so thoroughly filled, so taken apart by my cock?"

A strangled moan ripped free from your throat at the delicious pressure, and Dazai chuckled roughly in response. One hand curled around your neck, pulling your spine flush against his chest as he increased the pace.

"That's it, sweet girl. Let me hear you. Show me how well you're being fucked, how much you enjoy taking me."

Your hips rocked back to meet his, mindless in the pursuit of ecstasy. Each thrust was more powerful than the last, a relentless cadence that stole your breath and left you helplessly panting. The delicious friction stoked the inferno blazing into wildfire, obliterating all thought in its path.

"That's it, my sweet girl," Dazai husked, voice thick with desire. "Give yourself to me completely. I'll take care of you, sweet girl. I'll always take care of you, sweet girl."

Those words alone nearly tipped you over the edge, a tremulous keen ripping free from your throat as you surrendered. You arched for more, desperate for him to finish what he'd started.

Then his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you captive as Dazai pounded into you. The angle was deeper now, his cock hitting places inside you that caused stars to explode behind your eyelids. Each thrust was more powerful than the last, driving you closer and closer to the razor's edge.

"So close, sweet girl," he husked, voice nearly unrecognizable. "Come for me. Let go, my beautiful girl."

The command detonated like a sonic boom inside you, shattering the tenuous restraint and setting the world ablaze. You screamed his name, back arching as the climax crashed over you.

Dazai snarled a filthy oath as he felt the convulsions ripple through your body, his grip tightening. He kept thrusting, dragging out your orgasm until it was nearly too much to bear.

Your legs trembled, muscles liquefying as the ecstasy crested. But Dazai didn't stop. His hand remained wrapped around your throat, holding you flush against his torso as his hips snapped forwards.

"Yes," he growled, the words vibrating straight through you. "Give it to me, sweet girl. Let me feel that sweet cunt milking me dry, let me fill you up and hear you scream..."

Each word felt like a brand scorching directly into the core of you, the heat so intense it nearly seared. You could barely breathe, barely think, barely do anything beyond shudder and moan beneath the onslaught.

The climax tore through you in an inferno, obliterating any remaining scrap of rational thought in its wake. All you could do was ride the waves, drowning beneath the deluge of pleasure.

Dazai's hips snapped forward once more, hissing a guttural curse as his own release crested. You could feel the liquid warmth filling you, flooding your core and coating the inside of your thighs as his thrusts slowed.

Then, finally, his rhythm stuttered to a halt. The arm holding you steady against him loosened, allowing you to collapse against the desktop. Your muscles felt utterly spent, trembling in the aftershocks as you struggled to catch your breath.

Dazai's hand remained on the curve of your hip, anchoring you securely as he slowly withdrew. A breathless little moan slipped free at the loss, though he immediately shushed you with a kiss pressed against the nape of your neck.

"There now," he murmured, tone thick with satisfaction. "Wasn't that infinitely better than keeping our distance, my sweet girl?"

You couldn't even formulate a reply - still reeling from the intensity of that orgasm. But Dazai didn't seem to need an answer, content to hold you pinned against the edge of the desk for a moment longer.

"But now I need you to do something for me," he rumbled after a beat, the words thickening with sin and smoke. "Be a good girl and stand up for me."

You managed a weak, confused little sound as you complied. Dazai's arm was instantly around your waist, steadying you as your trembling limbs struggled to obey. Once your knees stopped shaking, he pulled you closer.

"Good girl," he praised, the words a velvety rumble against your temple. "Now stay right here for me."

Before you could question, his hands dropped to his waistband. You watched in mute fascination as Dazai tugged his slacks down, revealing his half-hard erection. It glistened with the evidence of your shared release, a bead of his spend slipping down the side.

He didn't break eye contact, holding you trapped in the molten depths of his stare. One hand curled around his shaft, giving a languid stroke as Dazai swiped a thumb across the head.

You swallowed thickly, eyes unable to look away as he used the pearled dew to slick his hand.

"Now then," he husked, expression dark with promise. "Open that pretty mouth for me, my sweet."

Your lips parted of their own accord, the motion instinctive. Dazai's smirk widened at the immediate compliance, his free hand tipping your chin upwards to hold you pinned beneath the smoldering heat of his stare.

"I need you to clean me off, sweet girl," he explained, the graveled timbre of his voice sending goosebumps rippling across your skin. "Every. Last. Drop. Understood?"

Another tremulous sound spilled free as you nodded, eagerly getting down on your knees. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with erotic intent as you awaited his next command.

"Good girl," Dazai praised, the words dripping like honey. "Now open that pretty mouth and show me just how good you are at listening to instructions."

Your jaw fell open, tongue darting out to lap against the swollen crown. His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you forward until you were able to suck the entire length of him into the velvet cradle.

"Just like that," Dazai crooned, the words emerging half-unraveled as his hips bucked forwards. "So fucking perfect. You look so beautiful like this, gorgeous."

His words were punctuated by shallow, rolling thrusts. His shaft grew impossibly hard against your tongue, thick and pulsing. You could feel him swelling, filling your mouth with his musky scent.

Dazai's eyes were blown wide, the pupils completely overtaking the irises. They burned with molten desire, the sight almost enough to tip you over the edge again.

"Now I need you to take me deep," he growled, voice roughened with lust. "Let me feel the back of that pretty throat, my sweet girl."

You could only nod, unable to do anything beyond comply. His fingers tightened in your hair, tugging gently as he angled your head where he needed. Dazai's cock filled your mouth, stretching the walls of your throat as he rocked forwards.

"Such a good girl," he crooned, the words emerging ragged and breathless. "That's it, take all of me. Such a good girl, sucking my cock like a proper little whore. Now open that pretty mouth and let me see those gorgeous eyes."

You moaned, the sound muffled by the length of his shaft. Dazai's fingers tightened in your hair, a warning.

"Good girl," he growled, the words almost feral with the force of his need. "I'm going to fill your sweet little mouth with my cum, sweet girl. Then you're going to swallow every drop. Understood?"

Another frantic nod, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. He groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest as his thrusts grew sharper. His shaft filled your mouth, pushing deeper and deeper until you could barely breathe.

"Take it," he ordered, voice rough and commanding. "Take every drop of my cum, sweet girl."

Then, without warning, Dazai's entire body went rigid. His jaw clenched, eyes closing as his head tipped back.

His hips slammed forwards, bottoming out and hitting the back of your throat. You gagged slightly at the sudden intrusion, but he held you pinned. His entire body seemed to shake, muscles corded with strain.

Then his cock throbbed, pulsing against your tongue as his seed flooded your mouth. You moaned, the sound muffled by the shaft filling you.

His eyes flew open, pinning you beneath the molten weight of his stare. You held perfectly still, allowing him to spill into your mouth until his thrusts began to slow.

"Fuck, gorgeous," he panted, hips still rolling as the last spurts trickled down your throat. "That's a good girl, taking it all for me. What a sweet little thing you are, swallowing down my cum like that."

His thumb traced the outline of your lips, the calloused pad dragging along the sensitive flesh. You shivered at the feather-light caress, unable to look away from his half-lidded stare.

"You've earned a reward," Dazai husked, his voice a velvety purr. "And I fully intend to spoil my sweet girl tonight. Shall we begin with dinner? My treat."

#bsd smut #bsd x reader smut #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader smut #dazai osamu smut #dazai osamu x reader smut #dazai osamu x reader #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai osamu

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sorcerersseestars · 11 months ago

Text

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo behavior #hurt/comfort #gojo hurt/comfort #angst #jjk #best buddie shoko #sad bc utahime and shoko aren’t together in this one 😤#Gojo is a hater

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chantiying · 7 months ago

Text

Why do I love you?

How to choose? Take a deep breath, close your eyes, open them and then choose the image that drawn your attention

1 2 3

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language

Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes

This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

Pile 1

Hey! Do I really have to give you reasons to understand how much you mean to me? Every conversation we have, from the deepest to the stupidest, through those silences that have never been uncomfortable between us. You keep me grounded, we've been through so much together. Every part of you is beautiful. I know that sometimes you doubt yourself, your body, even your luck, but I love you because despite everything you have lived and you are still here, and you're still fighting. We can do anything as long as we're together, forget those who let you down, forget those who betrayed you, forget all that, because now I'm here for you. Please let me know more about you, please let me help you. Don't be afraid, I do value all the effort you have made to be here, to stay here. I love you, because in spite of all the secrets, all the problems, all the things you've never said, you're still kind, considerate, still smiling and you keep bringing happiness to others.

I want to be with you, to give you my hand, to do crazy things together, I want you to believe in yourself again, and be in the process. I love you because you are my moonlight. Don't let your thoughts destroy you, we'll find our way, we two we'll fight all the monsters and dragons that torment you

I think this pile have a special connection with the moon

Talking to the moon by Bruno Mars

Maybe it's a friend, your crush, or someone who doesn't talk to you anymore or who you lost touch with because of distance. It can also be a spiritual guide. Anyway, it seems to be someone who misses you so much and talk to the moon about you

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pile 2

I like spending time with you. I love you for all the witticisms you can have, for how free you seem to be, because in you I find a place to call home. I love you simply because that's what I came here for, to spend time with you, to love you, to take care of you, to help you, to fight together. You are a part of me, my fears, my insecurities, the difficult moments. The times you have seen me sad or crying, all those times you have been there for me, make me grateful for how lucky I am. Everything we've been through has only helped strengthen our relationship. I love you because you understand me even with my mood swings, because you could have left, but you've never done it. I want to have you always by my side, like my treasure. I know that you are always there for me, to advise me, to make me laugh, to go out, to forget everything, but I want you to know that I also want to be your shoulder on which you can rest, you are my hope, and I want you to find it in me too. I know you've been busy, but could we go out? Let's forget the worries even for a day, okay?

This connection feels like an old movie, like autumn season, or even like the last day of school

Indie rock music

Imperfect for you by Ariana Grande

It could be a friend, lover or relative

"And in that moment I swear we were infinite"

🎻࿔*:🍂⋆🎻࿔*:🍂

Pile 3

Why do I love you? Easy. You arrived just in time to reach out to me. Maybe I haven't told you this, but before you, I was afraid that no one would really love me, I asked so much for your arrival, I think I manifested you. I know that sometimes I can be absent, that it may seem like I don't care about anything or anyone, but you're the only exception. I love you because you have made me believe in destiny, because if it weren't for you, I don't know where I would be. You are my family, the person who calms me down when my fears seem to win. Remember that I'm there for you, even if sometimes I can't even handle my problems. I love you because you don't judge me, because my problems seem lighter when I'm with you. You make me feel strong. I love you because you take care of me, because you care about me, because I was lost until you found me.

It seems to be someone who is struggling with depression or someone who doesn't know how to externalize their emotions

It's a relief for them to have you

Pop music, maybe social gatherings?

I think it's someone who looks up to you. It may be younger than you or older, but you play the role of "mom" because of how you care about that person

🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Thank you for the support in my last (first) post. you guys are awesome

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot asks #tarot cards #tarot tumblr #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot and astrology #pick a card

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diejager · 1 year ago

Note

i love your platonic yandere ghost x little sister reader so much.

…can we get a feral big brother ghost?

or ofc if that’s too much (which i understand) then may i request a situation where ghost and his little sister get into a fight?

I wasn’t sure what you meant, so I tried smt??

Sibling Quarrel

Pairing:big brother!Ghost & little sister!reader

Cw: verbal arguments, platonic yandere, possessive, isolation, threats, physical altercation, verbal to physical fight but nothing violent, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.5k

“I told you not to do that!” You screamed, erratically waving your arms around you, hands clenched in a fist and shoulders shaking. “I told you, Simon!”

“And I told you how dangerous it could be!” He growled back at you, hands clenched to his side, body shaking in pent-up frustration. He didn’t know whether it was against you or the man who’d been trying to hit on you, but he felt frustrated and angry. “I warned you, (Name)!!”

You scoffed, turning around, giving him your back as you screamed into the ever-calmness of your shared room. A cry of anguish and loneliness, a far cry from your smiling and happy self from years back, your isolation and background made it difficult - near impossible - to form a long, lasting relationship with someone, be it a friend or lover. You moved with Simon, you changed with Simon, you died with Simon, as much as Simon would with you. Being the two last of your family, one could not live without the other.

Yet that did not give him the permission to rule over your life with a gavel, pushing away those that you’d come to care for, building a wall around you against the harsh world, or standing between you and someone else. Granted, he had his reservations, but that didn’t mean you’d abide by all of his rules. He could only do so much until you caught on, and when you did - as he expected - you wouldn’t react so approvingly.

That time when your “friends” wouldn’t talk to you, giving you the cold shoulder as they shuffled away hastily in a group, holding their arms as if they’d fall off. They wouldn’t talk to you when you cornered them one by one, stalking the halls of the base at night until you ran into them, asking, pleading to know why they wouldn’t talk to you anymore. Everyone would shake, trembling in the spot you’d pushed them into, eyes fleetingly scarce when you urged them to look at you as if it was made taboo for them to simply look at you. They mumbled excuses, soft pleas when a steady hand fell on your shoulder, the familiar presence of your brother standing behind you. All they did was shake and run, knees weak and mind faint.

Or the time when men and women alike would walk away when you arrived, reeling back to pave a path for you to walk through. Their eyes gazed at the ground when you passed as if it was ingrained into their bones that staring at you was forbidden. Those lower than Ghost would cower in fear, even some higher than him feared him solely by his reputation. Ghost’s name came in synch with yours, it was never only Ghost nor simply Doc, it was Ghost and Doc, balaclava-wearing specialists in the 141, or the ghost duo, being forgotten members of society.

Or the time when everyone simply ignored you, walking away once you approached them. They would slowly and unconsciously walk off when it was just you, their backs turned to you and shoulders tense, but when you were beside Ghost, they would scurry away in fright and anxiety, rushing off before he could even step inside the room.

It was then you realised that your name besides Ghost was what warded them away, he was pushing people away from you with his name, his gaze and his words. They were cut-throat and blunt, dangerously calm and murderously malicious. Your brother ensured that you would be his alone, your body, mind and soul his own.

“Don’t turn your back to me, (Name),” his voice was deathly quiet, a threat lacing his tone. His broad body standing behind you, tall and unmoving to all but himself. “Don’t walk away.”

You glared at him, face turned to peer at him from your shoulders. You slowed your steps, feet moving one after the other in a slow motion: “Watch me.” Was all you gave him before striding confidently towards the door, arms outstretched to reach the knob with your gloved hand, the cool metal fated to meet your warm flesh-

You grunted, body slammed into the wall beside the door. You spat curses at Ghost, arms clasped to your sides, unmoving and uncooperative to your wants. He pressed himself against you, his hard shoulders blocking you from peering over him, his strong arms holding you still and his steady legs holding you in place. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. You faced him, eyes glaring up at your brother, your hate and anger burning into his pale face. In the privacy of your shared room, you could comfortably walk around without your masks, faces bare to each other. You couldn’t hide your expression from him, and he couldn’t hide his tears from you. It was a blessing and a curse, there was no secret between you, but it was hard to hide anything when your eyes were so expressive.

You caught the hardness in his orbs, the cool and menacing threat he posed toward you. Although you shared blood and a connection thicker than anything, he wouldn’t fear showing you the darker side of himself, the all-imposing and domineering man that gained the fear and respect he held. Your lips pulled into a sneer, baring your teeth at him like an - wounded and cornered - animal, and he returned the sentiment, his chapped lips parting to hiss at you with sharp teeth and even sharper canines. It made your growl look pathetic, his bigger set of teeth gleaming under the dim lighting of your room and his harsh glare life-ending.

However tall and threatening he was, you didn’t back down, being a medic didn’t necessarily mean that you were weak-willed or feeble, you were as much as Ghost was, strong-headed and stubborn. That was something you shared with all your siblings, that stubbornness that made you nearly insufferable, even within the family. Yet people would see the stark difference between you, his towering terror against your puppy-like attempt at seeming threatening.

“Back off.”

“No.”

“I said back off, Simon.”

You threw your head forward, your forehead aiming to break the soft cartilage of his nose, but you were pushed back, a hand leaving your arm to hold your throat against the wall. You sputtered, your free hand grasping his wrist. It was warm, burning in a way that had you sweating and panting loudly. Ghost narrowed his eyes, his grasp on your throat loose and soft, non-threatening against the light of his universe, but if you kept squirming and struggling, he’d have to tighten his hand around your neck, your small, weak throat right under his big palm. He had you where he wanted, weak and vulnerable, pliant - as pliant as you could be in this moment - under him.

“I told you,” his chest rumbled with a low growl, his shoulders shaking with the force of his restraint, but his body remained still. “I warned you, (Name).”

He’d warned you, but about what? Was it him warning you about not walking away from him? Or was it about something else? You wondered what he meant, his words holding a deeper meaning to it. Perhaps it was the darker intonations, his narrowed eyes or your situation. You couldn’t and wouldn’t understand what went on in his mind in these moments, where he shut you out and wore a mask.

“About?” You tried, all you could do was push and push until he let you in, to lower his wall and let his kid sister in, to understand his pain and his fear. You knew he dealt with harsher things than you did, so all you could do was stand beside him and support whatever he wanted.

You asked a second time when all he did was stare at you through squinted eyes, his eyes glazing over with a deathly still daze, mind lost to whatever thoughts he had swirling in his mind. You couldn’t let him lose himself in another torrent of self-hate and self-deprecation, to fall into another pit of neglect and loss. Your hand glided over his forearm and shoulder, to hold his nape reassuringly. It was something he used to do with you when you panicked, grounding you with soft circles on the side of your neck.

You saw his sneer loosen, his shoulders relaxing as he moved to pull you into his arms, one hand urging your head to rest on his shoulder and the other gripping your waist, embracing you within his warm arms. Sometimes, Simon might be harsh or mean, or he could be silent and glaring, but he could also be soft and caring, or loving and obnoxious. You might hate him on some days and loathe him on others, but you always came back to him, like a moth to a flame, you depended on him as much as he depended on you.

“You don’t have to tell me, Si,” you whispered, humming softly in his ears as he ran his fingers through your hair, mumbling apologies. You hated when he turned this way after a rough confrontation between you both, how broken and wounded he sounded, or tearful and sad as he pleaded for your forgiveness. You’d always forgive him, he was your only family, no matter how feral you both acted. “Stop apologising. You don’t have to, I’ll always forgive you.”

His shoulders shook, a choked breath leaving his frowning lips.

“Always.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

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hazbinhappy · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! First of all, happy spring break! I hope you enjoy your time off! ♡

I love Husk so much, he needs love to heal his dead heart 💔 so maybe femreader who's at the hotel with everyone and he finds himself catching feelings. And it terrifies the hell outta him. He hasn't felt anything like it in so so long, maybe nothing ever this strong. He has no idea what to do about it but the longer he's around her, it becomes more and more difficult to keep his feelings to himself. (If you like angst, maybe he pushes her away at first and she's hurt by it and it leads to a blow up which ends in his confession.)

Aaaand an idea for Overlord!Husk. We still don't know much about that part of his story, but let's say one of the souls he owns is readers. How he got her soul can be up to you. He starts to develop real feelings for her but she doesn't think they're genuine since she thinks she's just his "pet"

A/N: I am enjoying my spring break! Just lounging around, playing video games, and drawing! And of course writing and doing matchups! I hope I do these two well! I separated them with separate gifs! I changed up the first one a bit! god i just love overlord husk my man my man my man i went so hard on this for husk actually not being my top favorite (he is a top 3 three) I decided to mix the singer one with this overlord husk due to catching feels and being sweet <3

I feel like he is someone who clocks his feelings quickly or ignores the fuck outta them until he can’t anymore

I think in his past life he may have been married, but divorced because of his alcoholism and gambling addiction

So when he meets you he’s fine in the beginning. You’re just a soul who is trying out this redemption thing. So what?

But then you start to come to the bar more and more often. You don’t even get alcoholic drinks. Just Shirley Temple’s or non-alcoholic versions of drinks.

It confuses him because why come to the bar, silently have a drink, and then leave?

Eventually you start to talk with him, but you’re sober. You’re not drunkenly confessing anything, you’re just making light conversation, maybe a thing or two about your past or current life.

Soon, maybe a couple months, he starts opening up too and enjoys having conversations with you and in fact looks forward to when your freetime matches up so you can talk or even play cards (“What’s on the table?” “It’s just a friendly game of poker, Husk. Nothing more, nothing less.”)

Angel teases him one day about how he’s smiling more and seems to perk up whenever he hears your voice or even the mention of your name

That’s when it really sets into his mind and he starts to think about it.

Unfortunately that soon leads to him becoming avoidant and shut off from conversations leading to the same on your end as well before evolving into you guys simply not talking anymore

This actually upsets Angel and Charlie (moreso Charlie, but Angel decides to take care of it because we all know how Charlie can get a bit too involved in things)

Angel and you have a little heart to heart and Angel just…. He just laughs because it’s funny to him! You two are old souls who used to be married (and divorced) and y’all don’t know how to handle love anymore!

Angel comes up with this big grandiose plan on to confess but you settle on just a simple “smoke break” confession/trapping him on a break

Husk is standing on the balcony for a breather as you slip in behind him. He goes to leave but you purposefully block the door.

It’s a back and forth mini-argument. You planned on confessing first, but then he just blurts it out like a middle schooler admitting his first crush.

It’s a bit silly. This old man just blurts out his feelings as you’re standing there silent.

It’s a sweet moment to though because you give him a hug and cheek kiss (sorry I am a sucker for those I find them adorable) before confessing as well

Thankfully the hotel can run as normal without all the tension

Poor Alastor though he was loving all the misery and sadness coming from you two, mainly from Husk; he provided no real good advice

Did you know that most casinos don’t have clocks or windows so you don’t know how long you’ve been there and keep staying :D

So the only person with a watch is Husk and that is like a hidden pocket watch that he only checks when he gets a drink

I think that reader may have been one of the first souls he got! Or maybe the first he got specifically for the casino. He wanted some entertainment for the place to also keep people coming or staying so that’s what he uses your soul for!

He probably just smooth talked you into it or you made a silly bet and lost so you now have to work for him. So your relationship doesn’t necessarily start bad because you don’t hate him depending on if you choose the losing bet option, but if you choose the tricked option then it doesn’t start off well

Eventually it does get better over the years!

He starts to pay you a bit more and finally allow people to tip you; he doesn’t mind if you gamble because I like to believe that he houses people in an area above the casino so he has another layer of control as well

He tells his workers whether or not it’s daytime if they ask in private; when people know what time it is for your show they’ll be an announcement of like “Show in thirty minutes” so patrons are still in the dark about the actual time

He now doesn’t visit your shows with the idea “Yeah I own them”, but instead “Aren’t they gorgeous and saying a good job, say they’re doing a good job or I’ll fucking cut you-”

At this particular show you sing “Once Upon a Dream” (a song from your favorite movie as a child Sleeping Beauty came out in 1959) just to change it up from all of the loud game noises and yells in the casino

When you look over at Husk with that sweet smile and look as you walk around, even running your fingers across the back of his chair before doing so to some other people

It makes him feel giddy for some reason even though he wasn’t the only person who you gently touched… but he was the only person who you gave that look to

After your shift ends and you’re in the dressing room grabbing your things, he was leaning on the doorway smoking a cigar

“So, doll, do you look at everyone that way when you sing or just me?”

“Jesus, Husk! Warn a person before you sneak up on them.”

“Apologies, so?”

“...Well…um…the song-”

“No is a sufficient answer.”

“No… I don’t look at everyone that way when I sing.”

“Mmm, nice to know. Have a good night.”

It’s not necessarily an odd conversation, but it’s not solidified in what you guys feel about each other

It is very flirty between y’all though and it’s known that you are off-limits and your are his

You question it a lot (and so do other people) considering he owns your soul and he specifically made you an entertainment piece at his casino, but he definitely takes you out and lets you have more freedom than the other souls, so your worries aren’t completely squashed, but you feel better

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #husk x reader #husker x reader #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel husker

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in1-nutshell · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do more of wheeljack and his sibling? With them making up or interacting on the base?

I thought about making this fluffy... but the cruel hand of fate had other plans.

Hope you enjoy!

Wheeljack and his younger sibling after reuniting

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Cybertronian reader

TFP

Buddy was still angry with Wheeljack.

It was as clear as day.

They always seemed to be in a sour mood whenever he entered a room.

Most of the time they would simply go into another room and avoid him all together.

Wheeljack didn’t do much to help either.

From him doing a horrible job in justifying his actions to purposely provoking them.

Wheeljack: “C’mon Buddy, let’s just drop it and throw a lob around? Huh, how does that sound?” Buddy scowls at him and continues to pick up their data pads. Buddy: “I have work for Ultra Magnus.” Wheeljack: “I’m sure Mags will—” Buddy: “Don’t call him that.” Wheeljack: “—Will understand if you’re just catching up with your older brother. Or are you going to make this more difficult?” Buddy clenches their servos tightly. Buddy: “… I’d have you know that there are several things I would like to say, but there are children around, now if you excuse me, I have some actual work to do.” Buddy walks out of the room. Wheeljack sighs a bit. Miko: “Dude you are terrible at this.” Wheeljack huffs a bit. Miko: “… Can you teach me some swear words?” Bulkhead suddenly appears from behind Wheeljack. Bulkhead: “Jackie, no.” Wheeljack: “Jackie, yes?” Miko: “Jackie yes!” Bulkhead: “Miko no!”

Wheeljack just figured his sibling just needed time to get used to him again and then they could go back to how things were before.

The only problem was that Wheeljack seemed to forget that Buddy could hold a grudge for a LONG time.

Magnus feels a need to help the two reconcile and recruits Bulkhead to help.

He does so immediately, he doesn’t want his friends to fight anymore.

Bulkhead goes to Wheeljack, while Magnus goes after Buddy.

They both tell the siblings to at least give a talk a try.

They both agree.

Now the four of them are inside one of the empty hangars around the new base.

It did not go according to plan.

At some point in the argument… Wheeljack: “I would have taken ya with me, but you seemed to like your position so much you rather do that than be with me.” Buddy: “My position has more responsibilities than you do Wheeljack! Something you should try some time.” Bulkhead: “Umm, guys we’re just here—” Wheeljack: “I am responsible!” Buddy: “Don’t make me laugh. You didn’t even bother sending me a heads-up or a letter explaining WHY you left! You abandoned us! You abandoned ME!” Wheeljack: “If you’re going to be all sensitive about me not being there, then you can just—” WHAM! Wheeljack was thrown back into Bulkhead’s arms. Magnus was holding Buddy back from hitting him again. Buddy: “Let me go sir!” Magnus: “Out of the question!” Wheeljack standing back up on his own. Wheeljack: “Nah, let them at me Magnus. I’ve been itching to fight them since I got here.” Buddy: “I am not too sensitive!” Wheeljack: “Could have fooled me! Just like you fooled everyone in believing you can fight when all you do is hide behind Shoulder pads back like a coward!” Buddy suddenly stops struggling and puts their helm down. Buddy: “Ultra Magnus, let me go.” Magnus: “Excuse me?” Buddy: “Please sir… let me go.” Magnus hesitates but does. Buddy straightens up a bit and begins to walk out the door. Wheelack looks confused: “Are we not going to fight?” Buddy stops at the entrance of the hangar. Buddy: “Fight all you want Wheeljack, but I’m done fighting you. Just do me the single favor in leaving me alone, shouldn’t be a problem now you’re used to doing that.” Buddy walks out of the hangar. Ultra Magnus turns to the pair. Wheeljack: “What is it your turn now too?” Bulkhead quickly cuts in: “I’ll talk to him sir. You go after Buddy.” Magnus vents and curtly nods to the Wrecker and walks after Buddy.

Bulkhead does not shy away on how many unnecessary comments Wheeljack did.

Wheeljack tries to defend himself, but Bulkhead leaves no room for him to talk and makes sure he hears what he was to say.

Bulkhead: “Wheeljack, do you realize how lucky you are?” Wheeljack: “As in?” Bulkhead: “You have a sibling, Jackie. Do you know how many mechs would kill to have their siblings with them alive?” Wheeljack is about to talk back but stops. Bulkhead pats his back: “Just think about it Jackie. You only have one sibling in this life. Don’t lose them.”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp x platonic reader

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baeddel · 1 year ago

Text

when i was a child i liked combat sports; i took martial arts classes (i forget which form) and i competed in fencing. i had to stop when i went to highschool because we didn't have time for it anymore. after leaving highschool i met a girl who did boxing and i planned to go and sign up at her gym to learn it with her, but i became too ill and it never happened. still, it had reignited my interest in combat sports and i would talk about it with people. i told one guy that i liked the look of Muay Thai; he expressed a common view, which was that martial arts like this sucked, because they were impractical in a real fight. he liked Krav Maga because it was real.

[long-ish post about fighting]

and i always objected to that kind of thinking! look here: it's true that much of the game which is played on the mat is produced by the restrictions placed on combatants. even in a very permissive sport like MMA, the great importance of ground fighting to that sport is produced by the restriction on fish-hooks and head kicks. thus, you can say that even these fights 'aren't real' in some sense. but how often are you ever going to be in a fight where you're willing to rip the other guy's cheek out, gouge out his eyes and so forth? Krav Maga was first developed for Jews to defend themselves from anti-semitic mobs in the 1930s. i know that some of you have certainly been in fights like that; but not all fights are that existentially serious. even in fights where there is such a high level of emnity there are often factors which restrain the fight from becoming an existential one. if you live somewhere that fascists are embedded and you blind one of theirs in a fight you might expect retribution; likewise you would be guilty of a felony and might get in real trouble. apprehensions like this might stay your hand—and already you are engaging in a kind of combat which is to some extent governed by extra-martial rules that produce a to some extent artificial situation.

of course, some martial arts will be more useful to know in the kind of combat games you are likely to play even so, and Muay Thai has not suddenly become more useful than Krav Maga on the basis of what i said. but i think that it is common to 1. underestimate the usefulness of even highly artifical combat sports, like fencing, and 2. overstate the utility of various 'self-defence' techniques, especially blinding, because the artificial, rules-governed nature of real fights is forgotten.

on point one, i would always credit my fencing experience with my success at fighting in highschool. i would sometimes even adopt the pose—one hand back, foot pointed forward—and people would (jokingly) say, 'it's [her] style! [she's] the fencer!' this part was not really useful; these fights were between friends and featured no emnity; we wanted to entertain the crowd, so there was a certain amount of kayfabe. but we were teenagers and behaved badly; once blows began we really hurt each other, and i even sent a few kids to the hospital (one with a concussion and the other with a wounded leg). plus, secret feelings of jealousy and resentment could be awakened during the course of the fight, so more emnity was felt as the fight grew more serious. what i thought really helped me from all the fencing matches was simply the sparring experience. when another living person attacks you without relenting, watches your movements for openings, and tries to stop whatever you do to them, it's difficult not to be overwhelmed and confused. being able to keep a level head, comprehend the situation and make decisions in the moment gave me an advantage over less experienced friends.

on the second point, i had older male friends who gave me a lot of advice that i can now recognize was plainly bad advice. for example, a girl i had a crush on had an older brother who always gave me and her other friends a hard time. i hated him so much i wanted to do something about him. so my friend told me that when fighting a larger and stronger opponent, i should do this... and this... a lot of techniques that had i really gone and done it would have left him permanently blind and disfigured. how do you think my crush would have felt if i went and did all that to her brother? these 'real' street fighting techniques were not useful in a real fight—a fight with stakes proportional to my real situation. when i did end up in situations with existential stakes (you know the stories) these techniques did nothing for me, since i would be alone against multiple attackers, or the other guy had frightening connections, or there was an asymmetry of power (who teaches 'defense against a guy in a car'?). in all cases the only wothwhile advice i ever got was this: you cannot run away in high heels.

similarly, when we had our low-stakes fights at school, the crowd would call out for me to punch the other guy in the face, or to kick him when he was down. afterwards they were disappointed that i didn't 'really go for him.' all this kind of talk really got to me; i would be standing there, facing my opponent and saying to myself, 'do it! do it!' in the end i never punched anyone in the face or tried any kind of dirty fighting at all. for this i hated myself so much. i was furious with myself; i would sit down and be angry at myself for a long time. i considered myself a coward and a weakling because i wouldn't go 'all in.' i didn't 'have the guts.' actually, what i felt was compassion for another person, and it was not a contemptable restraint at all. what was i trying to do—what was i trying to become? i think this is a way you can be misled by the discourse around 'real fighting.'

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not-that-syndrigast · 3 months ago

Text

Is the grid a friend group?

Short answer; no. But we are here to analyze and discuss, so let's figure out why not and what else the grid can be described as.

In a friend group, you pretty much choose who's a part and who isn't, something that's not possible in F1 where team principals and other higher ups decide who is in the group and who is not. It's also too big to be a proper friend group and too forced.

If you want to describe the F1 grid, I would compare it to a class. It fits not only from the size, but also the set up; the people in a class cannot decide either who is in said group, instead they are forced to spend time with these people and there's smaller groups within. To strengthen the comparison, i'd argue the teammate lineups are similar to seating neighbors; a small bit of mutual liking is needed for things to work out but generally you can't really choose, at least I don't let my students choose.

This can also be used to talk about dynamics on the grid and I would assume makes it easier for some of you to understand that while they aren't necessarily close friends, they all know each other in some way because they are forced to.

I would like to make three examples though;

Oliver Bearman joining the grid and being supported by multiple experienced drivers makes sense, they’ve all been there and even if they aren’t in the same team or even close, they all made sure he felt welcomed and as a part of the group.

Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz becoming friends. Usually I am not a big fan of the assumption that everyone who are teammates are friends, just like how you aren't friends with everyone you ever sat next to but were just forced to talk because there was no one else. These two met each other like that though and became real friends like it sometimes is.

Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz, arguably the relationship why I've spent some time to even think about this. A lot of people claim their friendship is only PR, they are not friends and only talk for cameras, but i think it's more difficult than that. Unlike Sainz and Norris, they didn't hit it off instantly and became great friends, but I do still think that they talk, even if only because they are forced to spend time together in the garage. With Sainz leaving, it's interesting. Even if they weren't proper best friends the way Sainz and Norris were, it's still sad and weird to not be close to someone anymore.

Another thing that made this come up again was the recent grill the grid episode, where Norris didn't remember Ocon which proves my point that they aren't a friend group. There's videos of them talking, they know each other, but they are in completely different smaller friend groups on the grid. In the end it's not that deep, Norris forgetting Ocon isn't him bullying Ocon out but simply proves that they aren’t best friends.

It is important to mention though that I do not know these people and it's only observations and interpretations based on my own experiences with class and friendship dynamics. Like always, if someone disagrees or feels the need to share their opinion, I'm free to hear anyone out.

Also; drivers forgetting the names of other drivers they are supposed to be friends with isn’t that deep either. Today i accidentally called my best friend of seven years the name of my cat, it's really not that deep.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 2024 #grill the grid #carlando #carlos sainz #lando norris #charles leclerc #f2 #f3 #oliver bearman #call me verstappen the way i cant stop maxplaining #wheeltalk

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rekino2114 · 12 days ago

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I have a Halloween themed idea!

Junko Enoshima x male reader where Junko’s boyfriend is trying to spook her into a vulnerable position to tease and kiss her. Hear me out: for several weeks m!reader has been crafting out so many ideas and props, hiding them throughout the entire academy and trying to make sure she doesn’t find out. When the big day finally comes, he’s going all out on trying to scare Junko (maybe the whole academy while he’s at it) while also making sure no one’s harmed accidentally. Thoughts?

Trying to scare junko enoshima

Halloween post #9

Pairing:junko enoshima x male reader

Summary:For weeks, you've been trying to spook junko to see her reaction and kiss her later, but that revealed itself to be a way more difficult job than you expected

A/n:Thanks for another amazing request, and props for choosing junko, I love writing for her

(non despair au)

At this point, you should have probably given up.

For the entirety of October, you had planned everything for Halloween. Specifically, you had prepared everything that was needed to scare your girlfriend junko.

You obviously didn't actually want to scare her, but simply try to surprise her. You could already envision the adorable face she would make when scared and how you would tease and kiss her. She always teased you after all so it would be some nice revenge.

At least that was your plan.

When the 31st arrived, you tried everything you had prepared to scare junko but.....nothing worked. She either didn't pay attention to your props or called them cute. Everything you worked for was completely useless. You had no idea junko was like this. You almost gave up but decided to ask mukuro for help as a last-ditch effort

".....you want me to do....what?"

"You just have to put on a scary mask and chase junko with a knife. Please, I'm trying to scare her"

"........I'm not doing it"

"What? Why? You're the only one in the class that knows how to use a knife"

"junko is my sister. I don't want to do that to her. Why are you trying to scare her anyway?"

"I guess I wanna see her reaction, I already tried everything I can think of, but nothing worked. Wait, since you're her sister, do you know what she's scared of?"

Mukuro paused to think for a bit before answering you

"Nothing I can think of"

"What? really?"

"Yeah, as far as I can remember, she's not been scared by anything really, she actually likes.....disturbing stuff. Kinda like you now that I think about it, it's probably one of the reasons why you get along so well"

"*sighs* i see, I guess I should probably just give up then"

You slumped back on your chair, the disappointment setting in, until you heard a familiar voice call out to you

"Heeeeeeey babe, hi sis, what are you doing?"

Junko immediately rushed to you and hugged your form before kissing your cheek

"What a coincidence, my two favorite people in the same room together, were you talking about me?"

"Yes actually"

"Reeeeealy? I hope it was something good then,I just know my sweet, handsome boyfriend was talking about how much he loves me, right, my love?"

"Kind of"

"W-wait mukuro"

"He said he wanted to scare you"

You mentally insulted the soldier for snitching on you but sighed in defeat once again

"Really?"

"Yeah, he said he wanted to see your reaction and kiss you, like you do to him"

"Hm, I see"

"S-sorry junko, I just-"

"I had the same idea!"

"........e-eh?"

You looked over at junko's arm and noticed three large shopping bags hanging off it

"I spent all day shopping for Halloween props so that I could scare you. You already look adorable, so I thought the best way to celebrate was to see your even cuter face when you're scared"

"That's the same thing I thought too"

"I swear I fall more in love with you with every day we spend together, we really are made for each other"

"Definitely. But now that we know of each other's plans, we can't scare each other anymore"

"Uhm, true, what a shame.....wait, I just had the most wonderful idea!"

"What is it?"

"We can together scare everyone else, ahhh, it's gonna be like sooooo fun, Imagine how scared everyone will be"

"Yesss, it's gonna be great, amazing idea, junko!"

Your girlfriend grinned widely and proceeded to kiss you passionately while wrapping her arms around you. Your making out caused mukuro to sigh and get up from her chair before she was stopped

"Hey! Where do you think you're going, sis? You're gonna help us"

".......alright, if you want"

"Yaaaaas, it's gonna be great, I can't wait to see makoto's terrified expression. We're gonna have the best Halloween ever, my darling"

"I'm sure of that babe"

#danganronpa x reader #danganronpa thh #danganronpa thh x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc x reader #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #x reader #danganronpa #junko enoshima x reader #junko enoshima x male reader #junko enoshima #x male reader #male reader

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weneeya · 7 months ago

Note

Hi love I hope you're doing well <3 can I ask for a Kageyama hurt to comfort :(

-mia

(Yes I could just ask you straight but its funnier that way)

miscommunication w/ kageyama m.list | rules

note. hiii took some time but I'm here love <3 feel free to request anyway!

Any form of communication had always been difficult for Kageyama Tobio, and for a simple reason : the boy never learnt how to do it. He had always been alone or when he tried to do something, it was always a failure ; simply look at his years before highschool.

So when it came to his own feelings, it was probably worse than anything else. Tobio was never sure about how he felt because everything was messed up inside of him. And with his communication problem, it was making things even less easy in the end.

When you arrived, you made everything even more complicated for him. He was in first year and it was the same for you. You were both in the same class and, seeing his difficulties with his studies, you proposed to help him. He hesitated for a bit but after Daichi threatened him about the training, Kageyama came back to you to accept your offer.

At first, it was simply about studying. You wanted to help him and he needed that help more than anyone else. But after a few times, both of you realized that you wanted to spend more time with each other, and not only to work. It was a bit blurry in his head but for you, it was crystal clear ; he was softer than everyone else said he was.

When Tobio spoke about it to Nishinoya and Tanaka, who were for him the most informed about girls, they almost jumped on him. It was the perfect opportunity ; they were sure that you loved their little Kageyama and it was also sure that he loved you back. But when they told him about it, the setter freaked out. He almost ran away from the gym, as he needed a moment for himself.

Him? In love? No, it couldn’t be that. He had never felt anything like this towards anyone, so why now? He didn’t have time for this. He needed to train to be a better setter so Hinata could be better too. It was impossible.

After the “incident” with his senpais, Tobio started to become more distant with you. Saying that he didn’t have time to hang out, or even to study anymore. You weren’t stupid though, and you clearly understood that he was avoiding you. It hurted, you had to admit it. Because you thought that you weren’t the only one with those feelings, but now you weren’t sure about anything anymore.

Day after day, week after week, you and Kageyama were only seeing each other during class, when he dared even look in your direction. You were an overthinker, and you thought that maybe you had done something wrong, something which hurted him. This is why you decided that you needed to talk to him, even if he didn’t want to.

He was on his way to the gym for his daily training when you stopped him, in front of the building. He looked at you for a moment before trying to pass next to you without saying anything. But you moved to be in front of him once again.

“Kageyaman, can we talk? Please?” Your tone was almost pleading, and he had to look away for a minute. He cleared his throat before nodding so slightly that you almost didn’t notice it. You straightened your back, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m sorry if I did anything which hurted you. It wasn’t my goal, and maybe I’ve been too much for you. So I wanted to say that I’m sorry. It's just that-'' You cutted yourself mid-sentence because of the tears which were threatening to fall from your eyes. You hated yourself for being like this but it was too much, you just wanted things to go better between you two.

When Tobio realized that you were on the verge of tears, he realized that he had been acting like an idiot the whole time. You weren’t the one who hurted him, it was him all along. He started to panic, because he didn’t know how to react otherwise. He came closer to you, hesitating for a while before grabbing both your hands with his.

“No, no..! Don’t cry, please! I’m so sorry!” He was so bad with his feelings, so he didn’t know what he should be doing right now. You looked back into his eyes, your own eyes being a bit swollen because of the tears. He quickly looked away when he met your gaze, a slight blush over his cheeks because of the embarrassment.

“I should be the one apologizing… I messed up, because I was scared,” he started to say, still not looking at you. “Scared because I think I like you…” His voice was lower than usual, and he almost hoped that you didn’t hear and you wouldn’t ask him to repeat.

You blinked a few times, not sure about what you just heard from him. So you were wrong all along? Well, you couldn’t blame yourself, he was sending mixed messages. But if he said it, you were sure that he wasn’t lying, because Tobio was so bad at lying. You wiped your tears, and a soft smile appeared on your lips.

“I like you too, Kageyama,” you said, and he finally looked back into your eyes. He cleared his throat before pointing at the building behind you.

“I need to go, we can-” he wanted to say, but you stopped him with a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, we can talk about it after.” You waved at him, and left without saying anything more. He stayed here for a moment, trying to process what happened, before half of his team jumped on him, running from the door.

Of course they listened to everything, and they were obviously going to make fun of the poor Kageyama for a long time. But at least, things were better with you and it was the most important in the end. Maybe he was bad with communication, but you were going to help him with that.

aaaa I hope you like it!! it was so fun to write, I love my boy sm omg

#haikyuu #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq kageyama #hq headcanons #hq hcs #hq x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama hcs

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krokusplays · 12 days ago

Text

On Yaoshi and Abundance

People often assume that Yaoshi, being the Aeon of Abundance, equals the Aeon of Life.

But there's a difference between life and abundance and they cannot be equated.

While Abundance is undeniably linked to life, its aim is to continually proliferate life without life ever vanishing or ceasing to exist.

Let me try to explain.

First of all, Yaoshi is also called the Aeon of Paradise.

Yaoshi wants to give everything and everyone "paradise". They want to rid everything of suffering and death. And how do they do that? By blessing everyone who prays and asks for Yaoshi's blessing and giving them immortality.

And to that "paradise" death is detrimental. Yaoshi saw death and that everything comes to an end and essentially couldn't stand that.

If no one and nothing ever died, everything would be fine, there'd be no suffering and pain anymore, it would be "paradise".

No one can escape death or suffering but Yaoshi made it their entire aim to attempt as such anyway.

Yaoshi wants to keep everyone and everything alive at any costs.

Yaoshi also doesn't seem to know or care that what they're doing is causing people such great pain(be it Mara, or simply having to live for so long, etc.).

That ties into Aeons being bound by their path, so even if Yaoshi realized they're the cause for a lot of pain, suffering and by extension death they wouldn't be able to stop it either way. They have no way of understanding that people see value in their life because suffering and death play a role in it.

Hanya says in her voiceline: "When one has forgotten the concept of death, life also becomes meaningless."

In the end, Abundance(technically all Aeons but this is only about Yaoshi) is utterly selfish.

They want everyone to keep living, free of the pains of death and illness regardless of the consequences. We see in the Simulated Universe just knowing that our body has limits(aka it being mortal) makes them talk to us in such a sympathetic way that it sounds like pity.

Yaoshi feels sorry for us, that we're bound by this life full of suffering, stuck in an existence that will inevitably end. And they wanna help. And the only way they know and can help is by gifting us immortality. An endless existence that according to them is bound to be free (of suffering), but incapable of understanding that we're not meant to live eternal lives, that we cannot handle such an existence(same goes for entire eco systems for example).

And even if they understood, they couldn't change their ways.

You could say that Yaoshi doesn't understand the cycle of life.

Something something "Everything you see exists together in a delicate balance [...] When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so, we are all connected in the great Circle of Life."

Considering Yaoshi to be the Aeon of Life would mean they understand that death is a natural part of life, that every living being has a lifespan and will eventually die. As the Aeon of Life, their path would strive towards a balance rather than just giving more and more without anything ceasing to exist, without anything ever dying.

The entire point of Abundance is, that it keeps giving. It never stops. Even when entire eco systems and civilizations crumble because of it just being too much and they cannot handle living forever, Abundance will still keep giving.

------

I hope this made some sense. Putting the concept into words is more difficult than I imagined.

#hsr #honkai star rail #yaoshi #hsr yaoshi #hsr aeons #aeons #hsr abundance #abundance #can't believe knowing the lion king by heart would actually be helpful for this lmao #there's a lot more I could get into regarding Yaoshi #or in more detail #but all I wanted was to give a basic idea about the concept #or rather difference between life and abundance #feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong or if you have questions #all Aeons are vague enough on purpose that we can discuss them #both irl and in the game

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rhamrhanch · 1 month ago

Text

Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part Five: Lucky Gambit

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm running out of Ramattra gifs guys send help

chapter under the cut ↓

---

"Do not make me talk to him again." Then, after a moment, "Please."

Winston peered at you from beneath his glasses, calmly folding the briefing notes he was reviewing between his hands as if he did not just saddle you with the worst assignment imaginable.

It wasn't only the idea of spending even more time locked in a glass prison with such a volatile companion that lingered bitter in your mouth. It was the way Winston declared it, too, the cadence of his voice what you expected from a person asking you to fetch the newspaper. You simply needed to give it another go—his own words.

The scientist's eyes turned serious once he noticed the dread clouding your expression. "What happened? Did he threaten you?"

You crossed your arms, trying to tamp down the simmering anger that bubbled in your chest at the reminder of its source.

"No, he's just—" Being a jackass sounded childish, but it was the most accurate phrase you could think of to describe Ramattra's behavior. You pivoted to its more professional equivalent. "Being difficult."

Leaning forward intently, Winston furrowed his brow. Regret built in the back of your mind as you watched his concern morph into interest.

"In what way?"

You shifted in place uneasily, withering under the shine of the scientist's inquisitive gaze.

When you had first appealed to Overwatch with the request to join their ranks, you had waved away the question of Talon's bounty on you as a simple hazard of your occupation. You were originally a skilled engineer in the highly sought-after field of robotics, after all.

Overwatch was in no position to be picky, though, a fact that worked splendidly in your favor. Your loosely constructed explanation was happily accepted, standard procedure only requiring something to fill the blanks in your paperwork. The hard kept secrets of your past now sat filed and packed away in storage, never to raise an issue again—until now.

If even Null Sector had knowledge of you, that meant the price tag on your head was starting to circulate outside of Talon's inner circle. It was only a matter of time before the true nature of your history would be forced into the spotlight, and the cloak of safety Overwatch provided became nothing more than an illusion.

Selfishly, you reminded yourself that it was no longer just your head on the line anymore. You had collegues now, many of whom much more altruistic than you, blindingly so. They would stop at nothing to help you, and you knew what Talon did to those who stood in their way.

"He's… insistent that we give him information in exchange," you answered finally, praying that Winston wouldn't catch the hitch in your voice.

You thought he would shoot the proposition down immediately, allowing you to conveniently close the book on this chapter of your life forever. Instead, his brows furrowed as he reflected on your words, unaware of how flimsily they were conjured.

"I see," he said, before eventually heaving out a resigned sigh. "I suppose we'll have to figure something out."

"What?" You weren't proud of the way your voice echoed around Winston's office and would normally be mortified by the flagrant lack of decorum you were displaying, but the implication of his words was too much to ignore. "You want to cooperate with him?"

"We don't have any other choice," he confessed, instantly quelling the flurry of objections you were ready to unleash. He spoke almost regrettably, as though finally admitting a serious truth that he had up until this point ignored. "We're not strong enough to stand up to Null Sector right now."

You bit your tongue, knowing you couldn't argue with him.

Overwatch was already working with limited resources as a result of the recall, and there were barely enough agents to fill the one airship it had left. Not to mention that the organization was technically a rogue entity right now, operating against the UN's orders in secret and under worldwide condemnation. It could stave off the odd invasion here and there, as it had done in Gothenburg, but you remembered the dire state everyone returned in. Pure luck was the only thing keeping Overwatch afloat, and it was an infamously flippant bedfellow.

Simpering beneath the stern look on your face, Winston cleared his throat. "Look, I'm as happy about it as you are, but right now is our best chance at stopping Null Sector. I—we need you to keep trying, at least until I can find a way to work with him."

Your finger tapped against your elbow as you lifted your head to the ceiling, hoping to find some loophole, some rebuff to his words in the pale tiles, but there was nothing.

Dropping your head back down, you huffed in concession. "Fine, I'll try again. But don't expect much, he's exceptionally withholding."

---

Ramattra knew your face well at this point, though not due to any personal interest. He could not care less about the so-called "standards of beauty" that humans insisted upon measuring themselves by. No, what stood out to him about you was something different.

Usually, every human he met inevitably faded into an endless sea of blank, unimportant faces—yet yours persisted. Every minute detail of your face was maddeningly inscribed into his circuits. You were so… expressive, every muscle in your face demanding to be involved when displaying any emotion.

When you were angry, your eyebrows pulled close together and you clenched your jaw. That was the expression he was most familiar with.

When you were stressed, hurrying from one place to the next, your eyes were wide, alert and searching for where you were needed.

Sometimes he saw you late at night, still working, never resting. But there were moments when you would stop, would find a stack of crates or a hidden staircase and tuck yourself away, closing your eyes and dropping your head into your palms for a brief respite. You looked more and more tired as of late.

But the expression that persisted most in his memory was that moment, what felt like an eternity ago, when he bore witness to a look he hadn't known from anyone until then. It was distinct to him, that day in your workshop. Your eyes had sat half-lidded, lips parted slightly in awe as you brushed your fingers up his forearm.

You gazed at him as if he was something precious.

No one, not omnic nor human alike, had ever looked at him like that. The overwhelming sensation of his processor surging to life as it computed the rise of an emotion he had never felt before would have been hard to forget.

And then you had turned your gaze up at him, and his disposition nearly crumbled entirely when your eyes pierced right through the steel shell of his face, meeting his optics dead on.

You always, always made eye contact with him.

When he had inevitably crossed paths with humans on his pilgrimages, long before his desire for connection was crushed underfoot, he had found that even those most sympathetic to his people's plight could never look at him directly. Their eyes would flit across his body in a panic before meekly settling on his chin or neck, a poor facsimile of his gaze that they could not bear to return. No matter the fact that he was adorned in the robes that denoted peace, no matter the fact that he carried neither weapon nor malice, his body, his face alone would always be unwanted reminders of the pain from times best forgotten. For so many years, he never knew what direct eye contact from humans felt like—only what it felt like to have it avoided.

But with you, it was a constant. It didn't matter what you were doing—repairing him, arguing with him, even gasping for life against his hand. As certain as the sun was to rise in the east, your eyes would always find him.

He dared even admit that it flustered him at times, how he could never manage to shake your gaze. Yet after having been denied it so long, he could not help but yearn for it, to feel the way your eyes burned him with their intensity. Perhaps that was why it bothered him when you passed by as if he wasn't there, having finally picked up the habit that had become second nature to the rest of your species.

What a ridiculous notion. As if he could be encumbered by something so sentimental. If anything, he was more frustrated at your stubborn refusal towards gaining anything of import from him at the expense of your own privacy. Only humans could be so illogically inefficient.

A series of beeps chimed from the keypad outside the door, a sound he had grown to expect from the ape's repeated visits, and which barely caught his attention now. But it was when he saw the muted blue of his visitor’s coveralls that he realized who had come to see him.

You were as easy to read as always, tense jaw and rigid shoulders betraying your discomfort. But there was a smudge of grease on your cheek, a humbling blemish that undercut your apprehensive expression.

His optics lingered on you for a moment, before his head turned back to face the wall. "I believe I said your presence was unnecessary."

Your reaction was exactly what he expected. You clicked your tongue in annoyance and crossed your arms over your chest, though your eyes remained locked on him.

"The matter is out of my hands now," you muttered. "So I suppose we're both disappointed."

Ramattra did not respond, studying your appearance. There were flecks of paint speckling up the legs of your coveralls and up to your abdomen, stark against the dark fabric. Black tinged your fingertips, and he could see every trace of their touch left in shadowed impressions on your forearms and face.

"Were you working on something?" he asked, feeding the spark of curiosity.

You tilted your head, confused, before finally glancing down at your hands and noticing the grease caked on your finger pads. It seemed to embarrass you, as you brought your left hand up to grasp the side of your face before remembering and quickly dropping it back down again. Of course, that only left even more fingerprints behind.

"It helps me think," you answered finally, wiping your hands against your legs.

The words struck him with a strange feeling—a strong sense of familiarity that sat heavy in his chest. A long time ago, his brother had asked him something similar after he spent a day cooped up in his room in the monastery. Your answer was the same as his.

"That, we have in common," he murmured softly.

You lifted your chin, eyes carefully studying him. Though he lacked facial features like yours, the way you watched him made him feel as though his thoughts were plastered on his face plate, plain as day. It was unsettling, and for a moment he feared that if you stared at him any longer, you would unravel everything that he was thinking without uttering a single word.

But your shoulders only slackened, rigid tension softened by his admission. You sat down in front of him, mirroring his cross-legged position.

"I can't tell you why Talon wants me… for now."

For now. Those two words seemed to fall out of you unwillingly, as if they had clung to your tongue until the very last moment. Such a simple phrase, yet it changed the entire meaning of everything that preceded it.

Ramattra's chest rose, somewhat pleased with the implicit promise hidden in your words. But it still wasn't the answer he wanted, so he decided only to answer the question you had not asked.

"I was not in Oasis for you."

"Then for what?" you asked. "Business, or…" Your tongue poked out between your teeth coyly, as if you just couldn't help yourself. "Pleasure?"

Ramattra scoffed. Frivolous companionship was not a priority of his, and certainly not something he would ever waste time and resources traveling for.

"Coincidence," he deflected succinctly, and you frowned, clearly disappointed.

"Then why were you at the university?" Denied a reaction to your jape, your sharp interrogation quickly refocused. "I don't mean to insult you, but," you said as you leaned back, peering at him through narrowed eyes, "I find it hard to believe it was for scholarly purposes."

Ramattra was not sure how your words could be taken as anything other than insulting, but he had to admit that your observation was not entirely incorrect. Still, his internal fans whirred a bit faster as they vented out the heat circulating his chassis.

"I was in the area when I heard an explosion, so I went to investigate."

Your eyes lit up instantly. You had proven to be much more observant than he originally gave you credit for. Every word of his was scrutinized, not a single drop of information slipping through the cracks of your perception.

"So you were nearby, then? What were you doing?"

Ramattra nearly let the answer slip from his synthesizer, teased out of him by the alluring rhythm of your voice. He rushed to delete the task from his internal stack, stifling the process immediately. Thankfully, you seemed not to have noticed, and he allowed himself a moment to resume his mask of impassivity.

"Ask me again after you return the favor."

Your face twisted in annoyance instantly. "Are you serious?" You gestured at the empty room surrounding both of you, eyes wide with disbelief. "There is absolutely nothing else for you to do here, and you still insist on being this stubborn?"

But Ramattra ignored you, manually dampening his aural processors until the muffled sound of your voice gave way to a dull buzz. He was getting too comfortable talking to you, enough that he had nearly made a grave error. If things continued like this, it would only result in the loss of all his leverage.

Your mouth was still moving, but Ramattra heard nothing of what he assumed was a particularly rude admonition. You snapped your fingers in front of his face, as if his continued silence had something to do with his ability to see.

Eventually, you surged to your feet and stormed to the door, leaving him with the vibration that shook the ground as you slammed the door behind you once again.

---

You considered yourself a reasonably patient person. Of course you had your limits, but you always thought that your countenance was particularly robust. As an engineer, you had plenty of experience fielding the random requests and persistent questions you got from clients, all with a relative degree of patience.

But this was infuriating.

Winston told you to stall, but at this point the task was untenable. It had been a full two weeks of petty silence from the omnic while you nearly burst a blood vessel trying to weasel out any scraps of information you could from him.

You could be doing so many more useful things, but instead you were now splitting your time between sitting in silence with someone who would no longer acknowledge your existence and working your anger out through the many tedious repair requests piled so kindly for you on your worktable. Every day, the few remaining threads of your sanity wore ever thinner.

You rubbed your eyes, exhaustion setting in as you reached for the mug on your worktable. It was an extra treat on top of an already awful day when you took a sip and found your coffee stone cold, abandoned for too long while you were distracted with work. Staring down bleakly at the liquid swirling in your cup, you dropped your elbows on the table and took another swig. At the end of the day, even bad coffee was still coffee.

You were so tired that you didn't bother moving from your position when you heard footsteps approaching, only turning your head once the sliding door automatically opened with a soft hiss. The bright green glow of Genji's visor burned against your weary eyes.

"Oh, hello. Are you picking up your short sword?" you asked.

"Yes, thank you."

You placed your mug back down before reaching beneath your worktable. As tired as you were, professionalism ensured that you still made the effort to handle the weapon carefully, carrying it in both hands as you presented it to him.

Genji unsheathed the sword immediately, gently dragging the edge of the blade against his thumb. A small flurry of sparks erupted from the point of contact, and he let out a quiet hm in observation.

"Is it to your standards?" you jested, though there was a slight nervousness to your tone. You had excellent faith in your skills, but metalwork was not your specialty, and Genji was notoriously protective of his swords. The fact that he even trusted you at all for this small repair was the highest compliment you could ask for. It would be greedy of you to expect anything more.

He slid the sword back in its scabbard before twisting his arm behind him, securing it at its place on his lower back. "Your craftsmanship is excellent, as always."

You grinned, pleased with the praise, though part of you couldn't resist asking him the same question you always did. "Have you reconsidered letting me take a look at that katana of yours?"

Genji laughed, shaking his head in amusement before patting your shoulder good-naturedly. "Sorry, that's still a no. And besides," his head turned to look at the mess of scrap metal and loose wires littering your workshop, "I think you're busy enough already."

You shrugged your shoulders, fatigue making them feel as though they weighed fifty pounds each. "It isn't so bad. Once I rest for a bit, then…"

You raised a hand to your mouth and barely stifled the egregiously long yawn that came out.

"I'll have plenty of energy," you finished with a sigh, glancing around lazily for a moment before realizing that your workshop lacked a clock. A problem for later. "What time is it, anyway?"

"It's seven in the morning," Genji answered.

You groaned, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets. It would take forever to recalibrate your internal rhythm to a normal sleep schedule again.

"Why are you working yourself so hard?" he asked after a moment, his question laced with concern.

You rolled your shoulders out, sighing in relief as they popped. "Blowing off steam, mostly," you replied honestly, continuing your stretching as you lifted your arms above your head. You relished the taut pull of your muscles and the satisfying burn that accompanied it.

"Ah." Genji nodded, suddenly understanding. "I assume you haven't made as much progress as you hoped with your… assignment."

The way he tiptoed around the topic was to be expected. You were the only one on base besides Winston who had even spoken to Ramattra. All your coworkers had to inform their impressions of him was your mood after you left the conference room every other day. Needless to say, it was never good, which you assume led to your fellow agents believing that the leader of Null Sector was as cruel and hateful as they imagined.

You didn't bother correcting them.

"None at all." Leaning your elbows back against your workbench, you pinned Genji with the most pleading eyes you could manage, though with how exhausted you were you hardly felt your face move. "You must be patient and wise, right? What do you think I should do?"

Genji contemplated for a moment. Then, he drew his katana from where it hung at his hip and brought it closer to you, close enough that you could see the serrated emerald inlay that rippled in the shining steel of the sword's edge.

You leaned forward slowly, now wide awake. You wanted to say something, but in your current state, the most you could manage was a soft sigh in awe.

Genji ran a metal finger over the flat edge of the sword. "My blade is sharper than any other. With it, I can cut through even the strongest metal," he explained. "But it is best suited for slashing. If I strike my opponent's sword edge to edge, it will chip my blade as well."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he repeated, returning the fine sword to its scabbard, "perhaps you are approaching from the wrong angle."

You turned the words over in your head, trying to parse meaning from the incredibly vague statement, but it ultimately escaped you.

"I suppose," you acquiesced, before flashing a small smile at him. "Did Zenyatta teach you that?"

Genji chuckled softly. "No, he…" But he only trailed off. You straightened up, set on edge by the way he stilled. "I must go. Thank you again for your work." Genji bowed curtly in thanks before disappearing through the door of your workshop.

That was odd. But you did not linger on it, instead letting his advice ring in your ears again. Approaching from the wrong angle, he said.

You felt the tiniest murmurs of an idea brew in the back of your mind, but you were too exhausted for any of them to come to fruition.

Weakly slapping your hand against the light switch, you left your workshop and headed straight to your quarters. The leader of Null Sector could stand to wait for a few more hours.

---

Why were you so nervous?

Your heart was beating unusually fast as you stood at the junction where the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room met the wall. Ramattra couldn't even see you from this position, yet your mind was still restless.

Steeling your resolve, you lifted your chin and strode confidently to the door of the conference room. As usual, Ramattra did not acknowledge your entrance, sitting on the floor with his back straight and staring ahead at the wall opposite him. But instead of cycling through the same questions you always did, you abruptly sat down and set the square wooden box you brought in front of him.

Finally, his head tilted down at you. Already, you'd made more progress in five seconds than you had over the past two weeks.

"What is this?"

"Chess. We're going to play."

He was silent for a long moment, long enough that you worried he had gone back to ignoring you until he finally spoke again.

"You want me to play a game with you?"

You tried not to let his tone shake you as you began setting up the board. Flipping the golden clasps of the box up, you opened and rotated it until the side housing the board faced you. The board was crafted from a gorgeous rosewood, finely polished, and paired with chess pieces carved out of quartz. It must have been incredibly expensive, you realized, having found it shoved in the back of the bookshelf in the recreation room. You almost felt guilty for breaking it out in a situation as unrefined as this, but, well, what else would you have used it for?

"Yes," you answered bluntly, sliding the box to the side to make space as you unfolded the wooden board and set it between you. He looked at the board, then back to you, crossing his arms.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you refuse." You collected the pieces from the box and began placing them in their proper positions. They made gentle clicking noises as they tapped against the shiny wooden surface of the board. "But I'm tired of getting nowhere with you, and you must be bored sitting here every day." You set the last piece down and straightened back up, fixing him with a stern look. "Even if you refuse to talk, at least this way we have something to do."

No response came, and you were waiting for the inevitable rejection at this point. It was a last-ditch effort that you conjured in the dregs of sleep deprivation. It was not a sturdy plan, with the potential to be undone by any number of things.

But to your surprise, he did not. At least not immediately.

"Why chess?" he asked.

"I've been trying to beat Winston for ages, and I thought this would be good practice. I mean, weren't you built for this sort of thing?"

A growl echoed from his synthesizer, the hum of his fans increasing to a rumble. "I was built for tactical precision and strategic battle planning, not as a toy for humans to practice with."

You smirked at him, an unspoken challenge hidden in the line of your lips. "But you would be good at it, right?"

Ramattra went silent once again, but it was not long before his pride ultimately won out. "Of course I would. But the chance of you winning against me is so improbable that you may as well not bother."

"Then let's play," you shot back quickly, undeterred by the implicit dig at your intelligence. "If you're so much better, then it shouldn't take that long to defeat me. Unless," you narrowed your eyes daringly, "you're worried I might beat you after all?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, and for a moment you feared you may have pushed too far. But the indignant rush of air from his body quieted back down to a gentle buzz. "What are the rules?"

Silently, you stretched over the board, plucking a yellowed paper from the empty box and handing it to him. He only glanced at it for a moment before returning it to you, a woeful reminder of the fact that your opponent had the equivalent of a supercomputer for a brain.

You prayed this wouldn't backfire horribly.

Leaning forward, you considered the onyx pieces on your side of the board as you waited for Ramattra to make his opening move. If you wanted to stand any chance at beating him, you needed to play perfectly—a Herculean task considering the almost infinite number of choices you had and the severe disadvantage of lacking a processor to instantly analyze all of them.

But to your bewilderment, Ramattra did not touch any of his pieces. He only placed his hand on the edge of the board, rotating it until your pieces were on his side.

The words stupidly left your mouth before you could stop them. "You know white goes first, right?"

"Whether or not I move first changes nothing of the probability of your victory against me," he replied. "But you wish to defeat me, correct?"

You nodded hesitantly, and he chuckled in what could only be perceived as condescension. It lit a flare of irritation within you, before you were suddenly struck with the realization that it was the first time you had heard him laugh since his imprisonment. The sound curled around your spine, its deep bass and sinister lilt sending a shiver down your back.

"Then you will need every advantage you can get."

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #reader insert #fanfic #rhamrhanch

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