#ah yes writing for the same characters again i see

[rinskazuu]

love me like you do ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

synopsis. ꨄ︎ hsr characters and their voice lines about you as their lover!

characters: ꨄ︎ gn!reader x gepard, sunday (written at the time of 2.5), dr ratio, acheron, black swan, aventurine, jing yuan (separately)

cw: ꨄ︎ established relationship, use of they/them pronouns, use of pet names (beloved, darling, love), implied that reader has the same/relative lifespan as jing yuan, FLUFF :D

notes: ꨄ︎ continuation (more like a spin off) of my genshin lover voice lines lol (it has god awful writing and punctuation. proceed with caution). warning: i accidentally (it really was an accident) turned them into d1 yappers, mb y'all.

GEPARD

about: [name]

“so, you’ve sought me out during my busy schedule to talk about [name]…? i will indulge you just this once, considering they are my lover. what is it that you want to know? ah, before you begin, i must remind you that although you and i are good friends, i won’t tolerate anyone trying to take them from me. otherwise, i will have to resort to methods i wouldn’t normally use.”

chat: family

“you’ve heard of my close relationship with my sisters? yes, i hold them in my heart dearly. the only downside of our relationships is that they tend to nag me about [name] a lot. lynx is always trying to steal them from me under the pretext of help for her next adventure, but i know she loves them almost as much as i do. serval, being the true older sister she is, always scolds me for not taking better care of [name]. i understand her perspective but my schedule is draining, even for me.”

chat: art

“ahem, i would prefer if you didn’t bring up my skills in art, or lack thereof. please, enough with the teasing. you remind me of [name] when they first saw my so-called wanted posters. as i recall, they keeled over, arms clutching their stomach from laughter. i’ve never suffered a bout of embarrassment as bad before. so you’ve seen them too…? please spare me the humiliation.”

chat: flowers

“lynx’s dangerous journeys in the cold can also result in wondrous things, such as the flowers she brings home for serval and i to grow. i admit growing these things are difficult to say the least but i do do my best to raise them until they’re ready to be sent off—to [name] more specifically. i just can’t figure out how to get them to not wither. trailblazer, do you have any experience growing plants?”

chat: duties

“i do rather enjoy my job as the captain of the silvermane guards. i cherish and honor the responsibility, however, the hours are brutal. my constant thoughts all revolve around [name]. thinking about them, but not being able to be in their presence, feeling their touch, or just as simple as seeing them is torture in itself. nonetheless, the citizens of belobog need me—more importantly, [name] needs the protections i offer, and for that, i will pay the price diligently.”

♡

SUNDAY

about: [name]

"most handsome man in penacony? yes, i've heard that before. i'm flattered, but everybody in this universe should know my heart is already taken. you're surprised i have a lover, why is that? as you've said, i am the most handsome on this planet."

chat: jealousy

"jealous? what nonsense has gotten into you? is it that gambler or perhaps his accomplice, the doctor? i should not be surprised they display such impertinence, seeing as that gambler always tests his luck. the doctor should recheck his qualifications and his ego at that. wanting things they could never get. such foolishness i cannot comprehend. are you interested in [name], too? i won't hesitate to oppose you, regardless of our friendship."

chat: power

"the power i hold comes with such responsibility, naturally. i shouldn't be deceitful; i enjoy being in a position of authority. but then again, who doesn't? the only downside is my constant worry for [name] and robin's safety. should a day come where either or both are in harm's way, i will not resist in acting on my power. i have high hopes that the people of penacony should not resort to violence against my beloved nor my dear sister."

chat: dreams

"it shouldn't come as a surprise that the dreamscape is nothing new to me, seeing as i hold the responsibility of the safety and entertainment of many in my hands. oh, did you not mean the dreamscape? hmm... my dreams often carry beautiful memories of my beloved. [name] appears equally as comforting as they do in the realm of reality. all entities and beings cease to exist when i am within their presence."

chat: problems

"is something troubling you? inner demons... yes, i'm rather familiar with them. such a world without personal problems is so close, yet so far out of reach. if it is advice you seek, i suggest maybe confiding in a close friend or better yet a lover. sometimes it feels as if my very being is precarious, within the bounds of falling apart, but all is well when [name] is with me. they soothe my demons, hushing them as if they were never there to begin with. i am subjected to this... forlornly feeling whenever they aren't near."

♡

DR RATIO

about: [name]

"you speak in high regard of my lover i see. as expected; [name] has that effect. one where they attract all kinds of people, that of which unfortunately includes those who are reduced to stupidity. why are you surprised my beloved is someone like me? are you implying i would ever associate myself with an idiot? here i thought you were aware of my character. no matter, i'll let it slide because you are not prone to foolishness. should you make another mistake, i'm afraid i'll have to distance myself..."

chat: intelligence

"what makes a genius versus an idiot, i often find myself pondering. it certainly isn't the knowledge you gain because then again, an idiot cannot comprehend idiocy but can acknowledge the subject of math. it is the unlimited creativity in oneself and their intellectual ability. a prime example of brilliance is none other than my lover, [name]. their originality and innovation is something to admire, truly."

chat: free time

"solving equations with my lover is something i cherish. their tenacious behavior certainly puts up a challenge for me and i would ask for no other way to spend my time. books and bathtubs suffice as well, i suppose."

chat: nuisance

"to think i was enjoying my time when you just had to bring up the gambler. that nefarious man knows no bounds. i was very well aware of the way he was eyeing [name]. as if that man can even make sense of their beautiful being and mind. i've had enough. if you could make your exit, i would be the utmost grateful."

chat: bonds

"i find it rather difficult to... connect with others because there is no shortage of stupid people in this world. if i were to pick, i'd spend the rest of my time with [name] but that's already a given. i suppose you'd make a decent second option. blushing? hmph. be serious, that act is not even in my vocabulary."

♡

ACHERON

about: [name]

"on my journey throughout the cosmos, my encounters with others were never necessarily nuisances. rather, they were precious. but just like all moments in life, they are only a distant past; too far out of reach, too far out of my mind. the same cannot be said about [name]. for every minute i spend with them, i will fight to remember what it is i truly cherish in this world."

chat: memories

"it is true that my memories fade, much like the rain; very visible in the moment, but as days pass it will unite on the ground, vanishing before it is forgotten. however, the importance of rain is akin to my feelings toward my lover. it may one day be a mere bygone, but the feeling will never wane."

weather: rain

"like all little things in life, [name] finds it all fascinating. i cannot share their enthusiasm, but i do share a bit of their contentment when it comes to the weather. as the skies darken, it can form a shroud of fear toward one, yet comfort for another. the little droplets creating rivulets of water on the ground. so insignificant, yet so beautiful, the latter a lot like my lover."

chat: company

"no matter the reason, all travelers in this world are alike, their own purposes driving them to each and every corner of this cosmos. i am glad i do not have to suffer my fate alone, for it is not entirely filled with hardships. [name] is not just my lover, but my companion and it fills me with joy beyond my understanding that they will withstand any storm by my side."

weather: lightning

"a bold and bright strike in the sky, severing it ever so slightly. it is beautiful and brief, yet so powerful. i like to think the fondness i show [name] is much like lightning. i believe actions hold a larger importance than conversation, but for my lover, my words are endless."

♡

BLACK SWAN

about: [name]

"is it without a doubt my most radiant memories are with none other than my love. so, you've met [name]. by your expression, i take it that they are just as dazzling as i'm proposing. would you humbly allow me to capture your memories with them? i can assure you it's all in good's name; after all, i must oblige by my lover's safety. i wish you could see your appearance. i apologize for the scare, it's all meant to be humorous."

chat: memories

"as a memokeeper, it shouldn't be a surprise that i enter many minds. some minds are putrid; the memories i see are only vile acts of selfishness or egocentrism. others are broken, hard to explore and understand. there are minds which contain honorable deeds and acts of heroism, such as yourself. [name], however, their mind is brilliant. i could exhaust you for the rest of time just by simply sharing what i've learned from my lover, but the term brilliant should suffice. hmm? well, of course. i only entered their mind with their authorization."

chat: time well spent

"memories are integrated in my very being. even this body is merely a vessel only to serve my purpose. one day, the inevitable will come and we will all cease to exist. perhaps on the path there i will outlive my lover. in other rare cases, they may live on without me. memories are eternal and we shall all live on in the reminder of what once was."

chat: fate

"do you believe in fate, trailblazer? it is one of, if not the only, inescapable pieces of this world. what is to come is predestined. it is within my comprehension that [name] and i were bound to happen. the lights of destiny shine at me once again."

chat: time

"like the past and present, the future will hold many resplendent tales. i look forward to the stories [name] and i will share. whether it inspires a romantic and grand story or a simple poem, i will continue to dance with them until the stars begin to grow dimmer and dimmer."

♡

AVENTURINE

about: [name]

"my interactions are always based on transactions, but there's more to [name] than what meets the eye. i admit, our relationship started as a one time self-indulgent on my part, but as usual, i only invest in deals that pay off. don't bother trying to steal my darling. i mean, if you wish to do so, you can try, but remember i'm the lucky one here."

chat: luck

"i've never doubted my luck. it's as simple as it sounds—everything requires strategies and planning, even if it boils down to fate and luck, and who am i if i'm not lucky? my most treasured possession is none other than my beloved, of course. no game or bet could satiate my desires as they do."

chat: chips and gambles

"each chip has a different value, as does a person. the highest chip of profit are those who are beneficial. again, everything requires planning, but sometimes i like to revel in making a simple wager. you are easily a valuable chip, hence our cordial relationship. naturally, there are worthless ones and then there are priceless, one-in-a-million ones. my darling effortlessly tops the list."

chat: schemes

"you call it a scheme, i like to call it a master plan. with my bets, chips, my pawns in one place, and fate smiling upon me, it's hard not to win. it's as i say; the best plan is the smartest plan. how else do you think i have my lovely [name] by my side?"

chat: wins and losses

"my greatest loss was one you've heard before. i have no interest in repeating it, but i'm sure you remember what happened to my home planet. as for my wins? i've got plenty. you seem indifferent to hearing them, so i'll give you an easy answer: [name]. my greatest treasure and win is my lover. why are you surprised? high rewards always follow high risks, and they are no exception."

♡

JING YUAN

about: [name]

"the xianzhou species and natives, as you know, have longer life spans. the things we see from our day to day life often begins to blur. rather, more accurately, it begins to mesh with the background. it becomes, dare i say, mundane and dull. however, it amazes me how i still love life with [name] as my lifelong companion. my lover, who's been with me for centuries, makes my days and nights much more livelier."

chat: bonds

"yanqing is my disciple and subordinate. at his young age, he shows many promising features and skills. it is a shame that although he may be an excellent swordsman and lieutenant, his behavior often reminds me that he still a child. what warms my heart is his attachment and endearment to [name]. with my duties, i am often in the seat of divine foresight, so i cannot entertain either of them when i mostly yearn for it. i am filled with glee knowing [name] is there to care for him, and likewise."

chat: a day of work

"it is without a doubt that my work is utterly boring. it is not to say i don't love my home planet, but the work i do on a normal day to day basis is... tedious. early mornings transition into the peak of the day where it then drags into the long, wee hours of the night. thankfully, i have my beloved, [name], to amuse me. sometimes, they'll sneak off in the middle of work just to come see me, which delights me to no end. i'm fortunate to be able to see their lovely face first thing in the morning."

chat: worry

"i, as one of the arbiter-generals, have a lot to worry about regarding the luofu and the planet as a whole. there is chaos to be dispelled, questions to be answered, and a seemingly endless amount of help to be distributed. hmm? you were asking about my personal worries. well, there was a time where i was just a cloud knight, coming home when the sun was long gone with bruises etched into my skin and blood littering my armor. my greatest worry is having to see the fearful look on [name]'s face again, frightened for my safety."

chat: associations

"long gone with the wind were my old comrades and friends. like the sun sets, it's natural for more winds to blow my way. come new adventures, i will pursue new companions. one i will clutch onto for the rest of my days is [name], the most precious of them all. it goes without saying that they are whom i treasure the most, who i seek in my darkest moments, who i confide in my happiest moments with, and who i share my every being with."

end notes: ꨄ︎ i was going to include luocha, but my brain juice ran out. i typically listen to their EN voice lines on youtube (even if i have them) before figuring out what to type to get a better grasp on their canon personality, but uhm luocha was too vague as is. plus, we don't really know much about him (still love him)

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time

Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento

Word Count: 2,993

A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.

A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.

Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.

The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!

A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.

Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.

Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇

“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.

You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.

“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”

Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.

Today was not one of those days.

In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.

“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”

“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Laundry!”

“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”

Fuuuuck.

“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”

“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”

The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.

So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.

“Y-Yeah?”

A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.

Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.

Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.

“I-I don't have any makeup on.”

“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”

His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”

“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”

“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”

Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.

“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.

“Everything.”

You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.

Choso Kamo:

A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.

Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.

“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”

“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”

Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.

Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.

What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.

“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.

“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”

Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.

You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.

“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”

Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”

That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.

You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.

He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.

In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.

“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”

Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.

After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.

“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.

Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”

“Acne scar.”

A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.

“I-I fell off my bike.”

You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.

His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.

“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”

“W-What’s gotten into you?”

The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.

“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”

“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”

Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.

“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.

“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”

Nanami Kento:

The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.

The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.

Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.

Meaning you didn't have your makeup.

“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.

Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.

“Your overnight bag?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.

“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”

Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.

The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.

His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.

“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”

Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.

“Kento~”

He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.

Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.

And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

Just finished reading this and I LOVED IT!!!

May I ask for another part but with Jade, Kalim, and Silver??? Pwetty pwease??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

If you read this, thank you for taking the time to do so and please have a nice timezone!!!

A/n: Hihi!! Srry I just woke up a few minutes ago!!! And sure I can! Thank you for the request, @onegianthotmess !!! And thank you for the kind request!!! Love your pfp btw!

💋🪽Wifey material, but can still kick ass💋🪽

Characters: Jade Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Silver Vanrouge (omg I'm so terrible at writing Silver-)

Warning ⚠️: fem!mc is the warning itself, OOC(cuz I'm not sure if I wrote it right.. I mean, hc, yes?), I'm terrible at describing fights (help), maybe slight cussy as well??, Reader takes a random brick somewhere (Jade's part), violence(?), <-idk it's just the guy bleeding, Jade is a warning bc I said so (and his stupid gorgeous face), idk what else is in here, amazing Grammer/j, it is not accurate since it's future 🫶, idk what else to add.

Fem!Mc [<-but the kid calls you momma bc u give off those vibes.]

The last part here <-💋🪽

Jade Leech (When was the last time hisui-dreamer was active on Tumblr??)

You and Jade were a very happy couple, a bit too perfect (ahem). You are a very sweet and dedicated wife, yet you tend to forget things. Oh, no worries, my dear~ sit back and relax, he'll do it for you. He insists. But, of course, in the end, you'll give him a nice reward. The two of you are just lovey-dovey behind closed doors or subtly outside until both of you had [insert name]. [Insert name] was almost like a Jade 2.0 (when will there be a timeline your kid gets most of your genes? Idk), but had the same fcking compassion for mushrooms as your husband... oh dear heavenly fathers... but it's okay, you still loved them. [Insert name] was kind of like you, having the same hair color and that distinctively obvious black hair strand from Jade's [If your hair is black or dark, just pretend the strand is longer than the rest of the hair, and tends to stick out]. So, your kid was sweet... And cunning asf. Floyd liked calling the kid 'sea bunny' but since the kid was a half-mer (<-eel), it was an inside joke... now, how would you feel if your man/kid got hit/kidnap?

Your man gets hit:

•Idk how that happened. But, let's say he got caught off-guard for once and didn't expect the weak looking client to jump him like that.

•Well, isn't that interesting? And, to think that this client was capable of packing a punch-

•Oya?~ who's that- *A brick being thrown at the assailant with sound effects.*

•Ah... Well, if it isn't his lovely wife coming to the rescue!~ and, to think that you had this wonderfully fierce side of you? How delightful. It felt like he was at the courting stage all over again.

•So fiery, so protective... How come you haven't shown this behavior in a while? He'd love to see more of it. Come, after this, let us go to a private dinner, yes?

•So Cue to weeks later from the incident, he's here just spoiling you, oh. Don't mistaken him for being afraid of you, no, no, what a silly thought. He's just... a bit more infatuated than usual...

Kalim Al-Asim

•No, he isn't planning anything (other than torturing the poor soul that you had to deal with) he just wants to spoil you.

•And keep you to himself, making sure you wouldn't have to deal with 'those' anymore.

When your child gets kidnapped:

Your child isn't really going to get kidnapped. Rather, it was the opposite. It was the kidnapper getting kidnapped. No, your child isn't weird, they're doing the right thing, momma! Look! Aren't you happy?

So your child gets hit instead.

•Jade is enraged. No one should be touching his family. Not his kid, nor his wife.

•So imagine he masked all that, but then you bolted in again.

•With an aluminum bat with spikes. (Club? Bludgeon?) Sprinting toward the assailant with the speed equivalent to a horror movie chase.

•Oh, my. You're wearing the formal dress he gave you when you two were attending an important event! How interesting it is, seeing you wear it now. And in that state of anger as well. Ah, and look at his child, giving you words of encouragement. He beams, revealing all razor-sharp teeth he has. His co-workers trembling, because WTF? WHY IS THAT FMAILY FILLED WITH PSYCHOS?? They really thought you were the normal one (but comparably saying, you ARE the normal one in the family of Leech).

•Then you went back to normal (and no, let your imagination go wild with whatever happened to the guy you hit with the bat..), oh, it's playtime! C'mon [insert name] let's go to your favorite location! Yayayay!

•Yes, a normal family...

Your man gets endangered (<-yes):

So, you were doomed by the narrative bc you're being married to a merchant's son. Not only that, he's the HEIR to a massive FORTUNE. So, what I'm saying in short is... you're cooked. Especially your child. But you two can watch out anyway (maybe not Kalim, but you). But Kalim is emotionally intelligent (hc), so, he's not entirely dumb about his situation either. He's worried you'll be next, getting poisoned, assassinated, kidnapped for ransom, blah, blah, blah... yeah, you had to shut him up for that. And you two eventually had a kid. [Insert name]. Or more, depends. But, nonetheless, what's happen is your man/kid gets hit/kidnapped?

•He knew this would come, but he didn't know exactly WHEN. But it did anyway, so as he was preparing- what?

Silver Vanrouge

•You were there, tackling armed men. Throwing one assassin to the other (<-accidentally kissed), threw the other one downstairs(<-broke his spine and more), another one was hanging on the ceiling (<-doesn't know how to get down bc equipment broke), the rest was being whooped by you.

•Oh...guess he didn't need it anymore! (<-what was it? Don't ask me.) Haha! Whoa! You can fight!??! Hey, teach him! Or both our child! Haha! That being said, the family said no (bc Kalim doesn't need too, the next heir as well. But, shh you snuck the kid out to practice), so let's not tell anyone what you and your child do at night, okay? You totally weren't teaching the kid how to swiftly attack your beloved archenemy. Haha, never.

•Okay, maybeee a little. But hey, never too careful in this family, right?

When your kid gets kidnapped:

•Fuck no. The kidnapper should've heard about the motherly beast of Al-Asim (whom, is you),and they should know. NOT to touch your child, right? But...money... well then they die like [dumbass] men.

•So que to you snapping one of their necks, choking some of them, half of them killed themselves bc they didn't wanna deal with you, most of them pissed their pants seeing you, then getting crushed by a big-ass pillar (dk where you got that from), and using one of their men as a weapon itself.

•Uhm, well...nvm they're letting your child go now... IS THAT A BLINKY- *POW POW POW POW*

•Kalim arrived just in time to see his wife and kid safe. Phew!- wait. Huh?

•How are you guys- nvm. He remembered now, you probably pulled the gun on them. Well, uh... now he knows his wife is fully capable of protecting his family! No, he does not want you to be an servant. You are his wife, not maid. Get back here, and cuddle with him.

You and Silver lived happily ever after. A simple life, a simple house, Silver financially supporting you, and the cycle of love (between his parents) happens all over again. With you being his sweet and dedicated wife, although tending to forget important things, you know you'll never forget to wake up your important Silver, and [insert name]. Actually, [insert name] looks a bit like you, and has the eyes of their father. They have your dedication and tendency to forget, while they also have the determination, soft-spokenness, humility, and kindness from their father (And sweetness from you). So what happens if your man/kid gets hit/kidnapped?

Your man gets hit:

•Ain't no way.

•huh. You really think you could be slick with all that? No. Don't touch Silver dumbass.

•Though, personally thinking, I don't think he needs much protection so let's say you and Silver team up and jump the guy (Silver was doing the talking, he was holding his feral wife back...) but when he couldn't get the message? Oh no, all of a sudden. His hand slipped. Oh, and if they hit Silver's wife? Wallah. That guy asked to meet God.

•So after the entire conflict was over (personal crash-outs, BBW-ing the guy, doing a sumo stance, literally every martial art mechanism) the guy (crawled) ran away.

•Safe to say no one messed with you or him.

•Never.

Your kid getting kidnapped:

Okay so maybe your child was sleeping (like Silver), and unfortunately, Silver was sleeping. He didn't know there was a stranger coming in to take his kid away, thankfully you were awake. You heard the scream, Silver woke up to a very normal morning of you beating the shit of an intruder...

•Ah...What a fresh start in the morning. Really. *Watching you throw hands with somebody while spitting bars of insults.*

•What? You said that [insert name] almost got kidnapped? Ah, well it can't be helped when he felt the feeling of uselessness in him. Because he couldn't protect his child. What kind of father is he?- "Silver! A little help here!" Yes, he's on it.

•*Unsheathes sword.* No Silver, not like that/j

•But anyways, after this, the child was safe, "Momma!" [Insert name] cried out. The child was safe, you were safe, and lastly, Silver's family is unharmed.

•But he must be vigilant from now on, though.

The End

A/n: OMG IM SO SRRY FOR POSTING THIS IT WAS MEANT TO STAY IN DRAFTS??? BUT ITS OKAY ITS DONE ALREADY

[yzzart]

we need more tom and y/n interviews! and if you can and want, can you write an interview where they're answering fan questions? ❤️

"According to fan questions..."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: invited for another interview, you and Tom answer some questions that fans asked you.

word count: 1.095!

"Are we really cliché?" — Tom questioned, looking down, probably getting distracted by a fixed point, and then raised his eyes to you. "Hm, let me see…" — You crossed your legs, holding your elbow with one hand and the other rested on your chin, pretending to think of a promising answer and your boyfriend's laugh exclaimed in your ears. "Oh, yes, we are!" — Your voices rose together at the same time and more laughter settled in the decorated and comfortable room.

"Hi, i'm Tom Blyth." — Tom introduced himself, raising his eyebrows, in an inviting and dynamic way; quickly, turning his head with a shy smile in your direction for your introduction.

"And i'm Y/N!" — The brit's smile widened when your eyes met his.

"And we're here to answer some questions asked by you, the fans." — He explained, looking at the camera and, again, at you; it was, technically, impossible not to be excited about what was to come and even more so because of the suspense of the questions that would be presented.

The questions were about random topics, of course and obviously, you could expect anything. — From behind the scenes to your personal tastes, but, without going beyond the limit. — In fact, it would be fun.

During the editing of the video, frames and excerpts of the questions would probably be shown; making it more explained and organized. — For you and Tom, the people who were working behind the cameras said and repeated the questions.

The first was… — "What was the best thing about this movie?" — Referring to "The ballad of songbirds and snakes."

"The best thing about film was working with Y/N." — He responded quickly, making his british accent even stronger and moving his fingers; you laughed, feeling your cheeks burn a little.

"Ah, the best thing about this film was working with…" — You made sure to form a suspense, having fun with your boyfriend who tilted his head towards you, waiting for your enthusiastic answer. — "…Tom Blyth!"

Tom could no longer contain his bold and bright smile, even biting his lips, and poking your leg with his hand; passing your through the delicate and fascinating fabric of the clothes chosen for the interview. — You tried to pay attention and look for words to extend your answer.

"I guess i can also include how fantastic it was to work with Francis Lawrence…" — You continued. — "…and it's impossible, really, impossible to find words to describe how magnificent it was and acting in a Hunger Games movie was like a dream." — Tom listened with attention and passion, focusing on every word that came out of his mouth. — "The connection we had with the cast was something so precious, they are the best people in the world." — And it was the purest truth. — "Not to mention how intense it was to live in my character."

It was a dream, strongly, fulfilled and conquered for you; and a sentimental wave, of the purest emotion, weakens when seeing what, in fact, you has achieved and won around you. — How many incredible, sweet and important people have come into your life and will remain in it; and you had no words to explain how grateful you were.

Including having met Tom in your life. — God, you could say how grateful you were to have him for hours and hours, reaching the long duration of the video.

"Oh, yes." — Tom leaned on the back of the chair, settling in a little. — "I think playing Coriolanus was, like, really deep and steady because we're talking about a guy who has two faces and acting him being really good knowing that later he will turn into something evil." — He thought about his words. — "But, it was good working with him, on him and with the blonde wig...." — You laughed, together with the people behind the cameras.

The second question was… — "Were there many recording errors?"

"Oh yeah!" — Laughing and shaking your head in affirmation, you responded, ready to recall various behind-the-scenes moments and factors. — "There were so many that i can't name just one or two." — You said. — "But, one of my favorites, and i think they already posted it, was during the harvest scene and Tom was laughing nonstop at Peter."

"Please, everyone was laughing!" — He stuttered. - "Including you!" — You supported your hand on his arm. — "He was funny, the way his character spoke was funny, so i couldn't concentrate properly." — Tom reported looking at the camera, remembering the aforementioned moment and laughing; joining with you. — "One of my favorites was all the times you called me by my name." — He directed his head towards you, who placed a hand on his face.

Not many times, at most, just three times; garnering laughs and recordings from the cast and film crew. — Rachel had already posted two videos where you end up getting confused, a little nervous, and calling your boyfriend by his name. — A normal thing, it didn't need exaggeration or a big alert.

"Come on, it was only three times." — The softness, almost embarrassed, of your voice ran through Tom's ears; he removed your hand from your face and picked her up, giving your a brief caress and admiring the rings that were present. — "And i remember Josh and Hunter called me a loverbird."

"I ended up forgetting this fantastic little detail." — Tom commented.

The third question, — "Is it true that Y/N is going to act in 'Billy, the kid'?"

"In my dreams, yes!" — You crossed your arms, dramatically, and faked a frown for the camera. — "I've already asked a lot, and at least to be part of the supporting actors or just to appear for at least nine seconds!" — Tom laughed and you moved your shoulders, wanting to keep your face serious. — "Do you think i'm joking? I'm not!"

"You really aren't, sweetie." — The oldest confirmed. — "Please, Michael." — He mentioned the director. — "Even i'm begging for it."

And the fourth question... — "What word would you describe each other?"

"I think defining you in just one word is one of the most complicated jobs for me." — Tom's hand removed some kind of stubborn thread, which was stuck in his clothes. — "Is it really just a word?" — He turned, towards the people who worked behind the cameras, who confirmed his question. — "The word enchanting fits you easily."

Blyth leaned back on the back of the chair again, but now leaning his body towards your; facing you completely. — His deep, exuberant blue eyes meet, for the countless time, with yours in that interview. — And your lips formed into such a beautiful smile, shyly showing your teeth against his answer.

You fell in love once again with Tom Blyth, in a full interview.

"Thank you, my love." — The attempt to hide your face and an embarrassed voice failed completely. — "The first thing, word that comes to my mind that can define you is fascinating." — Tom pursed his chin, listening carefully. — "Because everything about you is fascinating and manages to leave me speechless, most of the time, and captivate me too." — Now your boyfriend's arm was holding the back of your chair. — "Everything, everything about you fascinates me and even the discreet gray strands that must be growing in your hair."

"Excuse me?" — Tom questioned, with his mouth open and not expecting your last words, and looked at the camera with a surprised look; already you were laughing at his euphoric reaction, clapping your hands on your knees and almost slouching in your chair.

[always-just-red]

HIIIIII congrats on 200 followers!! Can I have a Zayne smut fic pleasee?? Like the reader sees him wearing scrubs for the first time and she finds him hot or (reverse) him seeing the reader in uniform for the first time? Thank you!!

Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to this! '200 followers' is like a punch in the face reminding me how long this has been in the queue haha, but thank you so much! ❤ I don't write smut I'm afraid but this is a quick lil build-up to a cliff-hanger, so if any of the talented smut writers out there wanna write a part 2? Go for it! And tag me so I can read it link it here for everyone to enjoy!! Smut writers, I summon you!!! ✨🔥✨🔥✨✨

Professionalism

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: You love a man in uniform! Or... well, scrubs or whatever.

Genre: Suggestive (not smut sorryyy)

Warnings/Additional tags: still PG i guess since it cuts off before anything happens? gn!reader, established relationship, inappropriate workplace behaviour (shame on you Dr Zayne!!)

| Word count: 1.7k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

You’re not quite sure when this game started, but you’re going to win.

It was unassuming at first— harmless, even innocent little acts that slipped into something else altogether, as they so often do. Almost like falling in love: it snuck up on you. Coincidences— a chance meeting in the park, an accidental brush of two hands— become suddenly calculated. You take the reins from fate; you walk in the park where he takes his lunch, and he takes his lunch in the park where you walk. How fortunate it is, that you’re always running into one another.

Yes, this has been like falling in love. And neither one of you is naïve.

It’s dark outside the hospital. The stars are contesting the scattered, infinite lights of Linkon and you watch them through a window, finding meanings and shapes. They’ve a warmer glow than the cold, white, clinical lights in here.

“Could I get you something while you wait?” Yvonne asks, peeking over the top of the reception desk. She sounds anxious, and you can make a pretty good guess as to why.

“I’m fine. Thank you, though, really,” you smile cheerfully back.

She humours you with one in return. “I’m sure Dr Zayne will be along shortly,” she titters nervously, trying to fill the quiet. “He was with his last patient of the round when I spoke to him. It shouldn’t have been too much trouble, he must be— ah! Dr Greyson!”

The man was just passing through, face buried in a clipboard, but he stops at Yvonne’s greeting.

You lift a hand. “Hey, Greyson.”

“Hey!” He squints at something he’s read. “What a coincidence! I was just saying to Zayne it’s been a while since you paid us a—” he looks up and loses his train of thought. 

“Visit?” you finish.

“Umm… yes,” he chuckles, with the kind of reluctance that tells you he can’t decide if he’s falling victim to some prank. It’s the same anxiousness you’ve inflicted on poor Yvonne. He tests the waters with a: “Rough day at work?”

You beam at him. You’re sat with your usually pristine uniform marred by swathes of half-dried blood, too dark to be human. Not one bit of it is yours. By some miracle, you managed to perfectly dodge every swipe of that Wanderer’s claws today. Rolled out the way of every flying piece of rubble. “You should see the other guy,” you say, then double back, “well, the other thing.”

Greyson gives a stiff grin, still sceptical, but you’ve almost won him over. Nonchalantly, you reach for one of two brown paper bags at your side, then hold it out to him. “Here, for you!”

He tucks his clipboard under his arm, then comes over and takes it. There’s a soft crinkle as he unfurls the top. Sneaks a glance inside. His face lights up. “Thank you,” he enthuses, his hand diving in to retrieve a large chocolate-chip cookie— one of many. “Yvonne, would you like—”

She holds up her own paper bag. Greyson chuckles again, tucking into the treat. Like Zayne, he’s prone to working through his breaks, and you know he’s so often starving. Midway through a bite, he looks up at you, frowning. “Is this a bribe?” he mumbles, cheeks so full you almost can’t make out the question.

You smile at him pleasantly.

He chews slowly— connecting the dots. “No questions asked?” he guesses with a raised eyebrow.

“No questions asked,” you nod.

It’s a fair trade. The cardiac surgeon thinks it over, his eyes narrowed at you behind his glasses. He takes another suspenseful bite of the cookie. Chews. Swallows. Then there’s the broadest grin you’ve seen yet. “Works for me! I don’t want to know.”

With a nod to Yvonne, he carries on down the corridor, shooting you a knowing wink as he passes. You adore that man. Hell, half the hospital staff feel like family. You’d lay down your life for them, but you also delight in having them wrapped around your finger, albeit, with the help of a cookie or two.

You’re so busy watching Greyson leave that you don’t notice his absence has already been filled. Not at first, anyway, but then you feel it: hazel eyes on you.

You turn to meet them. Zayne stands, one hand curled around a small stack of paperwork, the other retrieving his glasses from his face. He tucks them into his breast pocket. “What a pleasant surprise,” he says, and the enthusiasm has been carved out of his words and replaced with suspicion.

“Hey, doctor,” you tease, lifting the last of your care packages from the coffee table. “Thought I’d join you for your break before I head home. Do you mind?”

His gaze flits over you, and it isn’t the honourable inspection he’d claim it to be if you dared call him out on it. He’s trying not to look again. “Of course not.”

This would usually earn you a sheepish smile, or a kiss on the cheek, but you’re angling for something else today. Victory. Look at him: he knows.

Like you said, neither one of you is naïve.

…

All right— knife to your throat?— you have an inkling as to how this started.

It was a more honest version of this: you’d stopped by the hospital, a few months ago, to boost the morale of a certain doctor and his hard-working team with some coffee from down the road. The machine in the staff room was broken, and by multiple accounts: made shitty coffee, anyway. So you often found yourself, hot drinks in hand, trying to catch Zayne on one of his few breaks.

(You miss that old coffee machine. They’ve replaced it, now.)

One morning, you were a little too late. Zayne had been called on to assist with a surgery, and you almost clashed in the corridor— you hadn’t recognised him at first. He was out of his usual attire: dressed head to toe in his medical scrubs. Despite the rush he was in, he made time to flash you a gentle smile. Said you could wait in his office; he wouldn’t be long.

You never did give a coherent answer. There was something about seeing him like that— so professional, so in his element. Off to save someone’s life, probably. Gods, he was amazing, and he just looked so, so good. 

Zayne knew from the start, of course; he’s so perceptive when it comes to you.

You used to feel guilty— positively sinful— until you caught that look in his eye, one day after work. You’d gotten to his place, kicked your boots off while he watched from the couch, enamoured, but you hadn’t noticed. You’d been complaining about a Wanderer. You were a mess: your hair, your uniform.

You remember looking up, and there it was. A flicker of something dark in his gaze.

He was quick to disguise it. Always quick to disguise it, because he’s a gentleman.

It’s been an unspoken war of attrition since then, and you’re both determined to outlast the other. You pick and choose your battles; there are times Xavier tries to drag you to the Association’s medics for surface scrapes and bruises, but you turn him down: you have a doctor at home, thank you very much.

Zayne tends to every wound with tight lips and steady hands. You’d feel bad, but…

He sometimes turns up to your dates still wearing his lab coat. (He left his regular coat at home again, and it’s cold outside, isn’t it? A lab coat is better than nothing.)

Last week, he really pushed his luck. He was demonstrating a new experimental technique in the operating theatre, and Greyson insisted you come along to watch. It was so innovative, he said. Zayne was working something of a miracle, he said.

So here you are, fighting back.

“Well?” Zayne asks. He’s sitting back in his chair while you ‘straighten’ his tie.

You’re perched on his desk, not listening. “Hmm?”

He catches your hand gently, using it to pull you closer, so you’re forced to meet his eyes. His tone is low. “What did I just say?”

You glance down again. Chuckle: “Something about responsibility?” 

A finger lifts your chin, tilting your gaze back up. “It’s inappropriate,” Zayne says.

“What’s inappropriate?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“No,” you mutter, and the finger on your chin can’t keep you from staring at his lips. You speak a whisper of enticement: “Tell me what I’m doing.”

Will he do it— say it— after all this time? Put it to words so that it might finally be acted upon? Break, you will him, looking into his eyes, because the last stunt he pulled pushed you over the edge, and you can’t hold on much longer. It’s starting to hurt.

All in. You are going to fall, so you’ve got nothing to lose by trying to bring him down with you.

“It’s just a uniform, Zayne,” you smile innocently. “But if it bothers you that much… I could always take it off.”

Your doctor stares at you, his expression refusing to melt. Then he lets out a sigh. In the beat of a heart he’s up out of his chair, striding away from his desk, away from you.

“Zayne?”

Now he’s not listening. He’s by the door, taking his lab coat down from a hook and threading his arms through the sleeves. He fixes the cuffs, straightens it, but that’s where the motions of habit end. His fingers don’t make it to the buttons, and of course you notice; you’re not naïve.

Zayne turns to you, and there’s no disguising that look in his eyes and its common counterpart: a rare, inevitable smile. Complete surrender. He locks the door with a click.

Ha.

You were always going to win, weren’t you?

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[heartzfromel]

undercover

detective!agnes x fem!model reader

summary; the nypd has been tasked with protecting a murder target in a high profile case. with detective o’connor being the most attractive in the department, she must ditch her rough around the edges look for girly glamour as she goes undercover. but what happens when agnes falls for the young model? will she love her for who she truly is under all that makeup?

tags; suggestive, depiction/mentions of murder and injury, violence, age gap, touchy agnes, sexist jokes, rio as a meddling side character as always

a/n; i love writing this!! also fyp i imagine tony to look like howard stark

chapter 1 | chapter 2

agnes was late for work this morning. she’d had what was most likely her worst experience yet on the metro, with some couple arguing loudly next to her at half past six, left her keys on said train and wasted twenty minutes trying to find them, and then missed her second train. safe to say that she wasn’t in the best mood.

her mood was made worse by the teasing from her co-workers as soon as she got in, but they shut up quick after she gave them a warning look. she might’ve got on well with them all, but that didn’t stop then from being scared of her. by the time agnes got into her office, it was near enough nine o’clock. she pulled her chair out to sit, and what couldn’t have been ten seconds later, her office door burst open.

“o’connor!”

oh great. agnes thought to herself, as the chief barged in.

“chief vidal.” she nodded, trying to sound somewhat happy to see her. the look on vidal’s face told her it didn’t work very well.

“what time do you call this?” she snapped, pacing around agnes’ office, “i have been calling you for an hour!”

“listen, chief, i had a rough morning, okay? won’t happen again.” agnes replied. she realised she didn’t sound very professional.

“oh it better not, or else theres a job back on ticket duty with your name on it. now come on, i’ve got a case for you.”

agnes wanted to respond, to snap back in some quick witted way, but she knew vidal wasn’t joking about those parking tickets, so she kept her mouth shut.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

“so,” vidal began, pacing around the room once again, showing off a case file, “three murders so far, all highly paid models, all y/h/c, all around the same age, all with the same associates. all the victims were killed by a single shot to the head, and each victim had the next ones initials carved into their wrists. they were all also killed during big fashion and beauty events, and obviously the miss u.s.a. pageant is coming up this week. we believe that our killer is going to strike again at some point in the week of the pageant, so we crosschecked the initials carved on the wrist of our third victim with the names of the girls competing in the pageant. three names were flagged, but we took a look at their photos, and only one of the girls matches the description pf our previous victims. her name is y/n y/l/n, she is 27 years old, and is currently miss texas. our unit have been tasked with keeping an eye on miss y/l/n, and ensuring that she is safe until our killer is caught. any questions about that?”

“yeah, uh, cheif vidal?” agnes’ partner, tony, asked, “how exactly are we gonna keep an eye on her?”

“ah, yes, thank you accardi, i was just getting to that.” vidal replied, “someone’s going undercover. we need someone who could win miss new york. she’s gotta be pretty, but also strong and can keep her cool. so who’s up for it?”

the room seemed to have gone silent. it was painfully obvious that none of the people in the room were overly keen on going undercover, and it was made worse by the fact that there were only three women, excluding vidal, in the whole unit.

“well i vote o’connor,” one of the men said, “i mean, if she wasn’t for the ladies i’d totally hit that.”

agnes shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes confused, wondering whether or not to take that as a compliment.

“jones.” vidal warned, before turning back to the group.

“i’m with jones on this one, chief. she could win miss new york, easy.” another officer agreed.

“i could see that.” another agreed.

“you are really pretty, agnes.” one of the female officers added.

agnes was stunned to say the least. she had never ever thought of herself as pretty, though it had never seemed to bother her.

“right then, it’s settled,” vidal confirmed, looking agnes up and down quickly, “you’re going to need a bit of a makeover.”

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

“you know, hon, you really should consider going blonde.” your agent remarked, grimacing at your current hair colour.

“thanks marv, but my current hair colour seems to be making me enough money right now.” you replied, rolling your eyes.

you were currently sat in your hotel room, your agent, marvin, sat on the bed, whilst you were at the vanity, hair in rollers as your nail tech finished up your manicure.

“just a suggestion.” he replied. the sound of emails on his computer was irritating you.

“do you have to type so loudly?” you snapped, frustration painting your features.

“well excuse me for trying to book you another vogue cover for next month!” he replied, slamming the laptop closed.

“you know, marv, it’s getting late maybe you should go.” you sighed, feigning tiredness.

“alright. fine.” he mumbled, the nail tech leaving behind him.

you leapt onto your bed and sighed peacefully. you wanted nothing more than a morning to yourself, with a lie in and no marvin yelling in your ear about what to wear and what not to wear. it’s not that you didn’t like your job, you did. it was everything that came with it. the agent, the fame, the scandals, the staged relationships with men you despised, doing anything just to make the front page.

you wondered if you’d ever be in a relationship and fall in love. out of all the relationships you’ve been in, albeit they were all fake, the men always seemed to fall for you. what you couldn’t fathom is that you couldn’t find it within yourself to love them back. all you wanted in life was love, yet you seemed to have everything but it.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

agnes didn’t recognise herself when she looked in that mirror. tony’s jaw had dropped, and vidal smirked, knowing now that agnes was the perfect choice. she looked like a supermodel. tony let out a wolf whistle and agnes rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head.

“who even is that?” she asked, eyes finding her reflection once again. her hair was down and curled for the first time in what must have been 15 years, and contained so many extensions that she thought there must be more of them than her own hair. her lips were painted a deep shade of red, complimenting her pale skin perfectly. her eyes now sported a flirty set of falsies and a shimmery dark shadow, and she was currently showing more skin than she had ever shown before, the deep purple dress showing off her collarbones and cleavage, but stopping just above her ankle. she looked beautiful, but she wasn’t agnes.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

the flight felt longer than it was, and agnes was increasingly uncomfortable in the dress. she wondered how people wore things like this on a daily basis, it was so itchy. the flight seemed to last longer for tony and vidal, who had to come along, vidal because she’s nosy, and tony to be agnes’ fabulous assistant. they were quite the trio, both tony and rio threatening to throw themselves out of the jet if agnes complained one more time.

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

the hotel was stunning, agnes had to agree. her bag was heavy, and she wondered what could possibly be in here. she had no idea. vidal had just sort of thrown it at her, and wished her luck, before disappearing to the bar. tony had walked her to the room.

“oh my god, what is im this bag?” he whined, throwing one onto agnes’ bed. agnes threw the other up.

“i don’t know, and i’m afraid to find out.” she replied, grimacing at the thought.

she flipped the bag over as she unzipped it, “oh my god!” she exclaimed as she saw the inside. there wasn’t a pair of pants in sight. the thing was full of short dresses and revealing shirts, bottles of perfume, makeup, and what looked like 8000 dollars worth of heels.

“welcome to washington, agatha harkness.”

•☽༻¨:·. ──── ₊☽◯☾₊ ──── .·:¨༺☾•

taglist; @hannah-0730 @m1vfs comment to be added !

[whitecompri]

HEYHEY !! love your work sm, Keep it up!! (But also make sure to take time to yourself 🙏)

I have a request once your ready for it !!

Can I have sonic and shadow x reader !

Okay so IDK if you ever seen this movie but it's called "kubo and the two string" SUCH A GOOD MOVIE BTW IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT

but there is the main character who plays with a magical shamisen which is a Japanese instrument if I'm correct (sorry if I'm not!) but yk what if they saw y/n use it storytelling to cream? Since the two had to babysit her yk??

(also bonus points if y/n makes a little paper sonic)

Okay hope this is fun to write for !! Make sure to take care of yourself !! :D

Melody of The Heart

Pairing: Sonic and Shadow x Reader

Genre: Romance, light comedy

Rating: G (General Audience)

Warnings: Light romantic dispute, Slight hints of jealousy and rivalry

A/N: Thank you for the request! And yes, I did watch that movie. It's actually been a long time since I saw it, but I absolutely loved it when I saw it. About this story, I thought it was interesting to do it in this format with Sonic and Shadow in the same story instead of in separate stories, I think it suited the main dynamic well later. I hope you don't mind and I hope you like the result.

--*--

That cold morning seemed peaceful, the sound of birds in the trees, the soft breeze rustling the leaves and grass. Everything would’ve been perfect—if not for the incessant sound of an argument happening nearby, in a clearing, followed by the sharp noise of two extremely fast figures breaking through the silence.

The two figures spun between the trees, zigzagging, one chasing the other, until they stopped on opposite sides, a pair of green eyes locked with a pair of red ones.

The two hedgehogs growled in unison.

“This isn’t getting us anywhere! It’s better if you just give up and accept I’m superior, Blue Hedgehog...”

“Ha! Good one, Shadow. But I’m the one saying this isn’t getting us anywhere—everyone knows I’m faster than you. No need to even race.” He pointed to himself with his thumb, and Shadow just scoffed, crossing his arms.

“In that case... a race through the whole valley this time!” He barely gave Sonic time to register the words before taking off.

“Hey! That’s not fair—” Without wasting another second, the blue hedgehog took off after his rival.

Once again, the two were neck and neck in the race. Sonic turned to him, flashing a smug, challenging grin.

“Just reminding you, you’re the one who started all this...” he said with a laugh, speeding up just a bit.

Shadow narrowed his eyes, skating faster behind him.

“If you accepted the challenge, it’s because deep down you think you’ll lose...” the black hedgehog said, passing slightly ahead of Sonic.

Suddenly, both of them widened their eyes and came to an abrupt stop, kicking up a cloud of dust. They stood side by side, staring further ahead, down a small trail in the woods.

Then they looked at each other again, a new kind of determination settling on their faces.

On the trail, you were walking peacefully, carrying a long case in your left hand and holding the strap of a backpack with your right, distracted by the calm path.

Suddenly, you heard a loud and familiar sound—something speeding toward your direction. Jumping in surprise, you looked up and saw the two figures had stopped right in front of you.

“Ah—hi boys, what a surprise seeing you here...” you said, letting out a relieved sigh.

With a sly grin, Sonic ran up beside you, casually draping an arm over your shoulder.

“Hey... I guess I did owe you that walk through the woods, huh?” he winked. But before you could answer, a hand shoved his face aside, pushing him back, and was replaced by Shadow’s imposing presence.

“Don’t mind him...” the black hedgehog extended his hand toward you. “There’s a lavender field nearby I’ve been meaning to take you to for a while now,” he said intensely, his red eyes locked onto yours without blinking.

“Thanks for the offers, boys... but...” You couldn’t even finish. Suddenly, arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you just enough to be carried a bit further along the trail. You clutched your case tightly, keeping it from falling.

Turning in surprise, you realized Sonic was the culprit.

“There we go, leave that grumpy starfish behind...” he said in a low tone, placing a hand on your lower back to walk with you. “Where were we? Oh right, a nice little forest trail walk.” He chuckled.

But just a moment later, a strong gust of wind rustled your clothes and kicked up dust in front of you. As it settled, you saw Shadow standing with arms crossed right in your path.

“Trying to steal her from me?” he said in a threatening tone, his eyes beginning to glow a deeper red, his quills sparking with energy.

Sonic let go of you, stepping in front protectively, a more serious and determined posture taking over. He clenched his fists, his own quills starting to spark as well.

“Maybe I am... I mean, obviously she’d rather spend time with me. I’m not some grumpy old man...” Sonic said, smirking. Shadow clicked his tongue.

“She’d rather be with someone serious than a hyperactive delinquent like you...” Sonic scoffed at the comeback.

The two stepped forward, baring their teeth with a low growl.

Before they could go any further, you stepped between them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders, stopping them and breaking the tension.

“I appreciate it, boys... but I’m a little busy right now... alright? I don’t have much time.” You smiled at both of them. They relaxed, Sonic rubbing the back of his neck, Shadow crossing his arms with a low ‘hmph’.

With a sigh, you turned to continue walking down your path, but as you turned, you jumped again—seeing a figure just a few meters away. Your eyes focused on the rabbit, who held a bag in her arms and smiled kindly.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked softly.

“Ah—Vanilla... No, don’t worry, sorry for being late...” You gripped your case tighter.

“It’s alright, dear, I had to step out, but Cream is still waiting for you at home with Gemerl.” You nodded at her words and started walking again.

“Alright, I won’t take long to get there, I’ll take good care of her today.” Smiling, you passed Vanilla and continued on the path.

“Hey... aren’t you forgetting something?” Vanilla asked with a small laugh.

Freezing mid-step, you already knew what she meant. Slowly turning your head, you focused on the two hedgehogs, still standing impassively, watching you eagerly.

“I-I bet they’ve got better things to do... right, boys?” you said, hoping they’d agree.

“Actually... I’m pretty free today,” Sonic said with a sly grin.

“I also have no tasks to attend to...” Shadow said, eyes closed, arms crossed.

“That’s great! I’m sure Cream will love having the three of you spend the day with her!” Vanilla clapped her hands in delight, turning to you. “Well, no need to worry, dear, these two strong hedgehogs will definitely be a big help!” she said happily, turning to leave again.

“Yeah... incredible help,” you sighed, already knowing full well the rivalry between the two when it came to your attention.

“Good luck, see you later!” she waved.

You stood there for a few seconds, watching the two. Sonic and Shadow exchanged glances, then walked over to you, passing by your side.

“What’re you waitin’ for? Cream needs her babysitters,” Sonic said cheerfully, wearing a smug little grin.

Shaking your head, you started walking after them.

--*--

You had barely knocked on the door when you suddenly heard the sound of small footsteps running and the door being flung open, revealing a little rabbit with a wide smile stretching across her face.

“Miss [Y/N]!” she said, practically throwing herself at you, hugging your waist, with both her Chao hugging you too.

“Hey, Cream, good to see you too.” You laughed, gently placing a hand on her head. Then she quickly looked past you and saw the two hedgehogs.

“And you brought Mr. Sonic and Mr. Shadow!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Yeah, yeah... They... they’re going to help take care of you today...” You scratched your neck.

“That’s right. I was thinking... how about we start with a little friendly competition, huh?” Sonic stepped forward, stretching his arms up.

“Nothing of the sort... Cream would rather have a quiet afternoon tea...” Shadow walked past you, taking Cream’s hand, entering the house, followed closely by Cheese and Chocola.

“Wait—let Cream choose what she wants to do first!” Sonic walked past you too, entering the house, the three of them disappearing inside.

You stood for a moment at the doorway, listening to their conversation. Then you turned your head, hearing heavy metallic footsteps.

“Situation analysis: psychological distress detected, increased heart rate,” Gemerl stated, staring at you. “Would you like me to eliminate the intruding hedgehogs?”

“There’s no need, Gemerl. I appreciate the concern, but I can handle them. Don’t worry.” You waved him off, closing the door behind you and stepping into the house. Gemerl followed closely behind.

“Structural damage to the house is likely,” he declared.

“I know... I’ll keep them under control.” You placed your fingers to your temples, already predicting it was going to be a long day.

--*--

You were silently drinking a glass of water while sitting on the couch, your eyes following the movements of the three around the house for some time now. Beside you, your case rested, still closed.

Behind the couch, Gemerl stood still, also analyzing everything meticulously.

In front of you, Sonic dashed by, laughing, with Shadow chasing after him. In the distance, you could hear Cream’s giggles.

Soon, she appeared from the hallway, running in your direction, her eyes gleaming with playful excitement. She crouched behind the couch, putting a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. You nodded, understanding the game.

A few seconds later, in the blink of an eye, Sonic stopped in the middle of the room, stomping his foot, then turned to you.

“Did you see Cream around here?” He took a step toward you.

“No... maybe she’s... in her room?” You shrugged. The hedgehog narrowed his eyes but nodded slowly, dashing off toward the room.

Cream popped out from her hiding spot, giggling softly. She tiptoed, trying to cross the living room toward the kitchen.

“Aha! I knew you were nearby!” Sonic’s voice echoed. He ran back into the room, picking Cream up in his arms, and she laughed joyfully. “Gotcha! You can’t escape the fastest thing alive!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction between the two. Suddenly, there was a flash beside them, and Shadow appeared with his arms crossed.

He immediately noticed your faint smile, raising an eyebrow.

“Well... I think it’s clear who was the best babysitter for Cream today...” the black hedgehog said, locking eyes with Sonic.

“Me?” the blue hedgehog replied smugly.

“No... me.” Shadow pointed to himself. “I know how to take care of children in a careful way you’ll never understand.”

“And I know how to have fun and not sulk all the time at least...” Sonic said with a frown.

“Boys... stop it already... I don’t want you two fighting in here... Gemerl is on the verge of exterminating both of you if anything gets broken.” You warned them. Both turned their attention to the robot behind the couch, noticing his defensive stance and analytical gaze, just waiting.

The two looked at each other, preparing to open their mouths to say something else—probably something provocative about being stronger than Gemerl—but when you saw they were about to speak, you quickly got up from the couch, placing your glass of water on the coffee table.

“Alright... how about we get Cream ready for bed? It’s getting pretty late...” You picked up your case and walked toward the rabbit’s bedroom.

Sonic wasted no time following you, still carrying Cream, and Shadow followed behind him.

--*--

You gently tucked the little rabbit into bed. She hugged her Chao and settled in under the covers.

“All right, Cream... how about a bedtime story now?” You smiled softly at her, and her eyes lit up.

“I’d love that!”

Behind you, Sonic and Shadow sat in chairs, watching everything closely. Then, their expressions shifted to curiosity as you picked up the long case you’d been carrying all day. They exchanged surprised glances, realizing they still didn’t know what was inside.

Your fingers deftly unlocked the case. You opened it, revealing a unique instrument, resembling a kind of three-stringed lute.

“What’s that?” Sonic asked, staring at the object.

“Hm? Oh, it’s a shamisen, a Japanese musical instrument... You’ve never seen one?” You picked it up, starting to tune it gently.

“Since when do you play that?” the blue hedgehog asked in surprise.

“There’s a lot about me you two don’t know.” You smiled, grabbing the plectrum from the case and running it across the strings, producing a slightly off sound. You tuned it again. “Alright, Cream, what kind of story do you want to hear?”

The rabbit thought for a moment, bringing a hand to her chin.

“Could you tell a story about me?” Sonic said playfully.

“Why would she tell a story about you? There’s nothing interesting to tell about you...” Shadow said, staring at Sonic. “A story about me would make more sense...” He closed his eyes.

“Cream gets to choose. I’m telling a story to help her sleep, not to help you two sleep.” Cream giggled softly at your words.

“Well, Miss [Y/N]... could you tell a story about two knights who love a princess?” she said, hugging her Chao tighter.

Your eyes widened at her words—apparently, what was going on between the three of you was pretty obvious even to a child.

“Alright, let’s see...” You ran the plectrum over the strings again, now producing a pleasant and flowing sound. Then you began to play a slow rhythm.

Suddenly, from inside the case, a few colorful papers flew out as if carried by the wind, beginning to circle around you and Cream. Everyone’s eyes widened as they watched the magical sight with awe.

The papers fell to the floor, spreading themselves in order.

“Once in a land beyond moon’s gentle light,

Lived two bold knights who longed for the same sight.

One born of shadow, with sorrow and might,

The other from sunlight, swift, pure, and bright.”

Suddenly, a blue paper and a black one rose, quickly folding into very familiar shapes. Sonic chuckled, realizing it was an origami version of himself. Shadow gave a faint smile at the paper version of him. Both were clearly mesmerized by the magic.

“The first was forged on the moon’s silver stone,

Raised by cold silence, always alone.

The Knight of the Shadows, strong and controlled,

With crimson eyes and a spirit bold.

He had lost much, seen worlds torn apart,

Yet carried his battles deep in his heart.

Silent but fierce, he stood ever tall,

A warrior of dusk who would never fall.”

Your eyes drifted to the two hedgehogs, who watched intently, hardly blinking at the mini show performed by the papers. The little origami Shadow stood in a combat stance as more papers formed monster-like shapes. The origami leapt into the air, arms outstretched, launching small paper Chaos Spears at the monsters, destroying them.

“The second one raced with the wind in his hair,

A laugh on his lips, with never a care.

The Knight of the Light, with freedom his guide,

Humble and brave, with nothing to hide.

He danced through the day with speed and with grace,

A smile like sunshine lighting his face.

He feared no danger, he fled from no fight,

For love was the source of all of his might.”

More papers folded into small, colorful badniks. The origami Sonic turned into a little ball of paper, launching himself at the enemies and destroying them, then folding back into Sonic’s shape.

“But then came a princess, gentle and wise,

With songs on her lips and stars in her eyes.

The Princess of Melodies, soft and divine,

Whose shamisen glowed with a golden shine.

No sword did she wield, no armor to wear,

Yet magic flowed with each note in the air.

And when she sang, both knights took their chance,

Each hoping to win her heart with a glance.”

As the rhythm continued on the shamisen, one sheet flew up and formed into a small origami resembling you. It landed between the two knights, holding a tiny paper shamisen, mirroring your own movements as you played and told the story.

“One brought bright roses, fierce red and wild,

The other gave lilies, soft and beguiled.

They started to boast with silly delight,

Trying to prove who’d win her that night.

‘I beat a whole robot—blindfolded, too!’

‘I saved a small kitten while tied like a shoe!’

‘I caught a comet mid-fall and then grinned!’

‘I cooked a chili dog... and it barely got singed!’”

You heard Cream giggle softly beside you as the little origami Sonic and Shadow seemed to argue with one another. Then, two different flowers were formed from paper, falling into each of the origamis' hands. They both turned to the tiny version of you, knelt, and extended their hands with the flowers.

"At last, the two knights, both hearts full of bloom,

Knelt down and offered their flowers of gloom and of plume.

The princess looked on, her choice near the end..."

At that moment, you heard Cream’s sleeping breath, your fingers immediately stopping their movement on the shamisen. Your eyes turned to the side, seeing the little rabbit sleeping deeply with her Chao. Then, you lowered the instrument, walking back to the case, noticing the stunned looks from the two hedgehogs.

“H-h-hey... What about the end of the story? Which knight does the princess choose?” Sonic stood up, walking toward you, stepping over the now-still origamis on the floor.

“Cream’s already asleep, so there’s no reason for me to keep telling it...” You gave him a mischievous smile.

“That’s not fair... You should finish the story...” Shadow also stood from the chair, stopping by your side.

Suddenly, the creaking of the front door caught your attention, followed by Vanilla’s voice.

“Everyone, I’m home!” she called cheerfully.

“Come on, our babysitting shift is over...” You nudged Sonic with your elbow, then ran the pick across the shamisen strings. In the blink of an eye, all the sheets and origamis flew back into the case, organizing themselves. You put the instrument away, grabbed the case again, and left the room.

“Hey... That power of yours is amazing...” Sonic commented, walking alongside you. “We were seriously impressed...”

“I know, I could see it on your faces.”

The two hedgehogs nodded, following close behind you.

Vanilla was in the kitchen, handing a few grocery bags to Gemerl.

“Hello, I hope it was a peaceful day...” she said, turning to you all.

“Definitely, it was very peaceful, no worries at all.” You replied cheerfully, picking up your backpack from the table and slinging it over your shoulder.

“That’s great, Cream always falls asleep so fast when you come to tell her stories.” Vanilla noted, making you smile warmly.

“Whenever you need me, you can count on me... and the boys.”

The eyes of both hedgehogs widened at that, and you noticed they were slightly blushing under their fur.

“Well, shall we get going then?” You looked at the two of them, turning to leave the house, saying goodbye to Vanilla and Gemerl.

--*--

Your steps down the path were calm, even though it was nighttime—after all, you still had two strong hedgehogs following you closely.

“I know a diner that has the best chili dogs...” Sonic said beside you, his hands behind his head as he walked along.

“Nonsense... There’s a restaurant with proper meals nearby... A real dinner.” Shadow walked beside you on your right, glaring at Sonic on your left.

“I’ve got an idea... How about the three of us go eat somewhere together?” You suggested, without taking your eyes off the path ahead.

The two exchanged glances, then nodded briefly after a few seconds.

“Fine by me... as long as I can see your origami show again later.” Sonic shrugged, a small smirk on his face.

“I’m also interested in seeing your powers again.” Shadow said, also cracking a faint smile.

You let out a nasal laugh, not quite sure what you were going to do with those two you adored so much.

[walpu]

I'm coming at you with the speed of thousand asteroids affectionately and hit you with a "your writing is awesome!"

Also, may I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader.

Thank you very much and have a nice day :D

Thank you so much for your kind words and for the request, it was so fun to write <З

Hope you'll enjoy it, have a good day as well 💛

Aventurine x The Nameless!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. Once again, no beta. I'm so sorry.

Aventurine

Considering that the Astral Family and it's members are pretty well-known (everyone seems to know at least their names) he has probably heard something about you even before you first met him.

I can imagine your first meeting going like this: he casually approaches you, acting all buddy-buddy, and says something like "ah, mx , who knew I would meet you here of all places <З".

If your first meeting was during the Penacony quest get ready for him calling you "friend" in this sassy voice of his 💀 Yes Aven we all get it you don't have any actual friends calm down

Can imagine him trying to get closer to you by painting your potential partnership as something mutually beneficial. You could use a friend from the IPC, right? And he wouldn't mind having some connections with a "brave and honorable" Nameless. So why don't you join him for a glass of wine, hmmm?

When the two of you will eventually get closer this mf will get clingy af. Yeah I've mentioned it already in my previous post but you being one of the Nameless opens up so many new perspectives.

Visits you on the Express regularly. If he comes when you're not here, he'll wait for as long as he can for you to come back. Sadly, Aventurine is a busy, busy man. So he can't wait for long. Will leave small notes for you tho, to let you know that he was there but you didn't grace him with your presence

If you come back when he's waiting, Aven will play it off as if he himself just got there and didn't have to wait for you at all, saying somethin like "Oh look, here you're! And here I thought I would have to wait for you, haha. Seems like luck is on my side today~"

He doesn't want you to worry, after all. Also. He wants to save some face. Pom-Pom will rat him out anyway.

Speaking of Pom-Pom, they're probably sick of him at this point lol.

Would ask you about your adventures and listen very closely to every story you may want to tell. He can't help but smile softly while listening to you, he just loves seeing the passion in your eyes. Doesn't matter if the story is about you dragging the Trailblazer away from the trash cans in Belobog (or worse - admiring the trash cans with them), he will still look at you with the same adoring smile.

If you ask him what he's been up to during the time you where gone, Aven would simply laugh it off and say that his boring IPC stuff cannot compare with your bizarre adventures so it doesn't even worth mentioning. Reassure him that you don't care if it's boring, you just want to hear about his day regardless of how it went.

Sometimes he can't help but feel jealous. You're free to travel, to do whatever you want. You have this sparkle of excitement in your eyes every time you tell him about your travels. And he has nothing of it. Simply can't have.

He doesn't have any negative feelings towards you, of course. Mostly some bottled up bitterness toward his fate and himself.

He gets a bit lost in his own head every time he starts feeling this way. Please take his hand and invite him to join you during your next adventure. He will laugh softly and tell you "maybe next time, darling". Even if he doesn't know when this "next time" will come the thought of it, of you wanting to share your precious moment with him, fills him with hope.

Adores when you bring him small gifts from the places you've been. It doesn't have to be something big, really. Just the thought that you were thinking of him when the two of you were apart is enough.

Don't forget to send him pictures of yourself!!!! He wants to know how his dearest darling is doing even when they are freezing their ass off in Belobog.

Would sometimes surprise you by showing up on the planet/space ship you're currently staying on. Aventurine rarely can't stay for a long but he cherishes those short moments when he can just walk around and do nothing in particular with you.

Usually when he visits a planet it has something to do with the IPC's business so he only has time to do his job and. Well. Gamble. Maybe buy some new clothes too if he has enough time.

But with you he can actually explore the planet. You bring him to the local restaurants, small tea shops, seemingly small and insignificant places. But it’s places like these that reveal the real beauty of the planet. He slowly learns to appreciate it when you're by his side.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hello author!! I hope you're doing great, and if not I hope it'll get better for you hehe <3

I would like to request a Tokyo Debunker fic with Alan Mido x Female reader where he gets protective of Reader and gets in a fight, Reader snaps him out of it and then thanks him and comforts him when he starts to feel anxious because he doesn't want to hurt Reader 🥸

thought of this in the shower lolol have fun with it and thank you in advance!! 🙏🏻

lots of love, mwah <33

Hi! Thank you for your request! Sorry this took so long. I really loved writing this! I hope you like the fanfic!

Gentle Hands

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Alan Mido x gn! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k (1,804 words)

This fic can also be read on AO3!

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When some general students at Darkwick start giving you trouble, Alan steps in to defend you. But when the dust settles, Alan's fears and insecurities start coming back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s the one I was telling you about. The honor student. The investigator.”

You heard the derision in the voice of the general student as you passed them by but paid no attention to it. You’d heard a lot worse from the students at Darkwick in the last few months. And some of those things were from people you now considered to be friends. Or at least as close to friends as you could get with some of those ghouls.

But the voices followed you as you walked down the hallway, never growing quieter as you heard footsteps behind you.

“I hear there’s nothing they’ll disagree with. You can say anything to them and they’ll just nod their head and bite their tongue.”

A snicker followed this as a second voice joined in. “I’ve heard that goes for asking them to do things as well. The professors order them around all the time. So do the ghouls. Reckon we’d have the same luck?”

“Let’s see, shall we? Hey, honour student!”

You’d reached the courtyard by that stage and the yell bounced off the surrounding walls. You paused and, against your better judgement, turned around. Two second years stood in front of you. While they didn’t seem physically menacing, you were suddenly aware of the lack of other students in the courtyard.

“Yes?” The less words you said, the less they could torment you. You hoped.

“I left my bag back in my room this morning, could you go get it for me?”

You frowned. “If you left it in your bag this morning, you can go get it yourself during lunch break.”

The student on the right’s brow furrowed. “Ah, but honour student, it’s your job to help out right?”

“It’s my job to help out the ghouls. Not general students. And not about something as small as a forgotten bag.”

The faces of both students darkened. “So you’re saying we’re not as important as the ghouls, huh?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Just that I’m not here to be ordered around by you.”

At this, both students turned furious, yelling insults and derogatory comments at you. One took a step forwards, raising a hand as if to strike. Instinctually, you took a step back. But your back bumped into something firm and warm. A squeak of terror escaped you as you whirled around.

Alan stood there, arms crossed, his face the dark glower of barely contained anger.

The tirade from the students trailed off as they took in the sight of the newcomer to the conversation.

“Are they bothering you?” As Alan’s eyes fixed on yours, his expression softened, concern flickering in his gaze. You weren’t sure if he knew quite how obvious he was about his affection towards you but you weren’t going to rush him. He’d come to you in his own time.

Your shoulders dropped in relief but even as they did, you shook your head. “It’s alright. I was just explaining to them what my role as honour student means. They seemed confused.”

“Confused? You’re the confused one here!”

Alan turned his focus back to the general students, his expression during stony again. “I think the only ones confused here are you. You shouldn’t be talking to them like that. People deserve respect.”

“Oh yeah? Even ones that do whatever a ghoul asks them to do?” The student nudged his friend, offering up a suggestive smile.

But before the other could do more than present a shaky smile in return, Alan had moved from behind you and was standing in front of the general students, raising a fist. It slammed into the jaw of the general student on the right who crashed to the floor, yelling in pain but otherwise unmoving.

As Alan turned to the other student, he was met with a responding strike to the face. He barely reacted, instead grabbing the student’s hand and lifting it high into the air. The student screeched in pain and clawed at Alan’s arm in an attempt to release himself.

“You don’t say that sort of thing about them. You hear me.” Alan’s tone was measured but his anger clearly poured through. His fist tightened around the general student’s arm and the student screamed louder.

You rush forward. As much as you appreciated him defending you, you couldn’t let Alan send more than one student to the hospital. His reputation was already bad enough as it was.

Placing a gentle hand on Alan’s arm, you stepped in front of him. His lip was split and there was a trickle of blood running down his chin. “Alan. Put him down. I think he’s learned his lesson.”

Alan’s eyes snapped to yours and for a second, the burning rage in his expression turned on you. You couldn’t help the flicker of fear you felt move across your face and you saw the moment it registered in Alan’s mind. He let go of the general student and took a step away from you before turning back to the students, now both laying on the ground.

“They’re under my protection and if I hear you say anything like that about them again, you won’t be walking your way to the hospital.”

The students nodded, scrabbling to their feet and beginning the trek to Mortkranken.

As soon as they were out of sight, you turned to Alan, intending to offer your thanks. But he was striding away across the courtyard.

“Alan!” You started after him. “Come back, where are you going?”

There was no response. If anything, he seemed to speed up.

“At least let me thank you?”

He rounded a corner and by the time you reached it, he had vanished from sight.

You sighed. You knew what was going through his mind and you knew where he was going. You pulled out your phone, sending a quick message to Sho.

Hey. Let me know when the captain gets back, okay?

A flurry of responses came through a few minutes later.

He just showed up.

Honestly, can you two just get a room already?

You didn’t need me to tell you when he was gonna show up here.

Lover’s intuition, I swear…

You smiled at the messages.

Be there in a bit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you entered Vagastrom, Sho was working on Bonnie. You tapped his shoulder as you passed, making him look to the wrong side before correcting himself. As soon as he saw it was you he sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Should have known. Well, go on. You don’t need me to tell you where he is. Seems like you know everything about him already.”

You smiled. “Thanks Sho. I’ll come by the food truck tomorrow to show my appreciation.”

Sho turned back to Bonnie, grumbling. “Sure, sure. Show your appreciation by makin’ me do more work, I see how it is.” But he wasn’t quite able to hide the smile on his face from you.

You made your way upstairs to Alan’s room where the door was predictably closed. You rapped your knuckles against the door.

“Alan? I know you’re in there. You going to let me in?”

Silence.

“Come on. I’ve got to say thank you properly for earlier.”

“No you don’t. Go away.” Alan’s voice was gruff and you sighed. He could be really stubborn sometimes.

You were about to contemplate your next course of action when someone sighed next to you. You turned to see Leo looking the weariest you’d ever seen him.

“Take this.” He handed you a key. “Don’t ask how I got it. I can’t stand listening to another moment of the captain sulking in there. Just deal with it.” And he walked away before you could answer.

Baffled, you turned back to the door. The key fit the lock and the mechanism clicked open when you tried it again. Pushing the door open, you peeked through to the room beyond.

Alan was huddled on his bed, legs drawn up to his chest, fists clenched and held away from his body as if he was worried they’d burn him. 

“Hey.” Your voice was gentle but Alan’s head snapped up regardless.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” His voice dropped until you could barely hear it. “I might hurt you.”

Your heart squeezed painfully and you crossed the room to sit in the bed opposite him.

“You could never hurt me. You defended me earlier, what other proof do you need?”

Alan’s lip was still split and as he moved, you saw it crack open again, fresh red spilling from his mouth.

“Let me help with that.”

“You don’t have to.” Alan was quick to refuse your help but you reached across to his bedside table where you knew he kept emergency first aid equipment. You pulled out a cotton bud and some antiseptic. Returning to your previous position, you reached a hand out for Alan’s face. He shifted away but you were fasted, gently grabbing his chin. He froze and you guided him closer.

You tipped antiseptic onto the cotton bud and gingerly pressed it to his lip. He sucked in a breath as it touched the wound, twitching in your hold.

“Sorry.” Your voice was a whisper.

You cleaned him up in silence. Only when his lip was no longer bleeding did you speak again.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me, you know. I trust you.”

Alan’s eyes refused to meet yours. “But I scared you today. I hurt people and you were scared of me. I don’t want that.”

“Yeah, I was a bit startled when you started swinging but you were defending my honour. And I couldn’t ask for more.”

Alan’s brow furrowed and you brought your hand back to his chin, guiding his face so he had to look at you.

“I. Trust. You.” You said each word clearly. “You, Alan. I trust you not to hurt me.” You took a deep breath before saying your next words. “I care about you so much and it hurts to see you beat yourself up about this.”

Alan’s eyes widened. “You…care about me?”

You nodded. “I do.”

“In what way?”

You smiled. “I think you can figure that one out. You’re pretty smart.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Really.”

Alan’s hands shook slightly as they reached towards you, hovering near your shoulders. “Can I touch you? Can I hug you?”

You nodded and Alan brought you close, hands as gentle as if he was holding glass.

You made yourself comfortable, doubting you’d be moving anytime soon. Before long, you started to feel sleepy, wrapped in the warmth of Alan’s arms.

Just before you slipped into sleep, you felt Alan press an almost imperceptible kiss to the top of your head. His voice was a whisper as he spoke.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[cherrygirlfriend]

the obx fandom just full of airheads bruh 😭😭😭😭😭😭 it hurts that most of us are women too. Don't get me wrong i love the show and a lot of the writers here are really talented but the way a lot of y'all refuse to just *think* 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 omfg god im crying we should be better than this bruh... literature has always been political in some way that's unavoidable bc our existence itself as humans in this society is inherently political. fanfiction might not be intentionally about politics but the concepts and ideas we use—our very own perception of love and the way human relationships work in itself are always somehow influenced by politics and social structures. the show itself, obx is literally about class struggle (kook vs pogue) and when writers write about kook!reader or pogue!reader, their dynamic with rafe is almost always heavily dependent on their class/social status.

hell, literature and art itself has always been used as political propaganda. fanfiction isn't immune to this bc fanfiction is literally a part of mainstream culture 😭 most of yall who romanticize misogyny have been exposed through so much propaganda through the sudden influx of tradwife and redpill content on social media, books, and movies the past years and it's slipping through the fanfiction you write and consume to the point that you're also subconsciously churning out even more propaganda. the govt machinery infiltrates through our media, art, film, and literature to sell a romanticized/glorified/fetishized idea of sexism, homophobia, racism, etc —> influencers and creators spread and dumb these ideas down to more subtle, relatable, and almost innocent content to thousands of audiences—> these ideas become popularized and are successfully assimilated by the public to the point that the government doesn't even have to put effort on propaganda bc it's become so ingrained to the people's beliefs that they're now regurgitating the same propaganda subconsciously —> these ideas become so normalized to an extent that it has become a part of our culture again —> mindless consumption is in, critical thinking is out (e.g. "it's just fanfiction, it's not that deep!") to prevent people from questioning culture and challenging ideas and beliefs —> the cycle repeats.

i know this long-ass rant is making me sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist rn but i fear, this is literally just a product of critical thinking and attending highschool history lessons. nazi germany didn't become what it was bc the entire country suddenly decided "ah, yes, killing jews is perfectly right and necessary" no, it took years of propaganda dehumanizing jews through science, education, media, art, film, and literature that people has accepted as their culture because THEY WERE RESTRICTED FROM THINKING CRITICALLY. ik it's crazy to compare nazism with some sexist fanfiction but do y'all not see the same pattern happening again??? "omg being used as a breeding machine is so lana del rey coquette 1950s babydoll old hollywood divine feminine aesthetic <333 sexism so kawaii bows and ribbons, hearts and glitter !!!" DO YALL HEAR HOW FUCKING INSANE SOME OF YALL SOUND?????? 😭😭😭😭😭 you're regurgitating the same shit bigots like charlie kirk, ben shapiro, and andrew tate are saying but make it pink.

now, i'm not saying we should make fanfiction "political" or make it about politics all the time but god just fucking think, people !!! 😭😭😭😭😭 you cannot incorporate something as political as "sexist!rafe" into your work and just turn your brain off and go "not everything is political!" bc news flash sexism IS political.

disclaimer: i have nothing against the housewife trope as long as the character was treated with respect and love or if not, her struggles are at least not written to be something "romantic" or "hot." i'm not at all against depictions of sexism or bigotry in art, media, or fanfiction. i think it could be a great concept to explore how gender norms, like i said, influence power dynamics within our relationships and our general perception of love, when done WITH SENSITIVITY AND NUANCE. but when it's straight up romanticization and fetishization, then i'm sorry but it's just conservative propaganda slop.

i feel like this pretty much encapsulates my thoughts 😭

[thesimpthatneverstopssimping]

Drawing the Prettiest Boy (Chuuya Nakahara)

Warnings: OOC?, None?

Genre: Oneshot

Reader: Gender neutral, constantly refers to Chuuya as pretty, artist, likes Chuuya

Requested By: N/A

Character: Chuuya Nakahara

     Something irritating had been happening to Chuuya. After Ace had died you had taken his place as an Executive. Before hand you were already just about as powerful and respected as one just without the offical authority. He knew of you but never needed to interact with you.

     He noticed how during meetings or when the two of you had to work together you would just stare at him. It unnerved him. The way your eyes would look him over as if you were studying him.

     Eventually he snapped at you, "Why do you keep staring at me like a creep!"

     "Just staring at the prettiest boy in the Mafia," you said casually as if the two of you were talking about the weather.

     He was pissed at the comment. Less about the "pretty" part and more the "boy". He was not a boy. He was a grown man, no matter what his height indicated. Though, he couldn't explain the feeling in his chest and the heat that rose to his cheeks.

     Chuuya started to get more snappy and tell you to stop staring and you would always respond by saying you were only looking at the pretty Executive. It would get on his nerves every time and make that same feeling come over him again. What was your obsession with calling him "pretty" and staring at him?

     One day he saw you what looked like to be writing during a meeting. No. That couldn't be right. The way your pencil was moving wasn't like you were writing. Then what were you doing?

     Chuuya noticed you doing this often. Sometimes you would glance at him while you were doing whatever you were doing. He couldn't understand your fixation on him. Didn't you have better things to do?

     One day he had to drop something off at your desk. Light flooded the room through the windows. When he walked to your desk he happened to see a bunch of scattered papers across your desk. He couldn't help but take a glance at what they were. He saw that they were mostly sketches and mostly of him.

     Chuuya picked one of the sketches of him up. It felt odd to look at these papers. He could see how you saw him through them. He could even see why you always referred to him as "pretty".

     "They're good, don't you think?" asked a voice from behind him.

He jumped and turned to face the speaker. He saw Kouyou holding a small paper bag with something.

     "They took quite the interest in you. I've even heard them refer to you as 'the perfect model'," the older woman continued.

     "What are you doing here?" Chuuya asked her.

     "Ah. (Y/N) saw something I had for lunch a while ago and asked about it. I told them that I'd bring them their own when I had the chance."

   Chuuya glanced to the bag and then back to the sketch in his hand, "You knew that they drew me?"

     "Yes. They gave me a drawing of theirs a while ago after I commented on liking it. I had seen a drawing of you that they were making while handing it to me. It was absolutely adorable. I think it was that one there," she pointed to a sketch of Chuuya when he took a nap at his desk once.

     His face flushed. Embarrassment washed over him. You had drawn him while he was asleep. Not only that, Kouyou had seen the image as well.

     The door creeked open and you walked inside. Chuuya turned to you, his face bright red. You looked between the two executives confused until you saw what Chuuya was holding and you instantly grew embarrassed as well.

     You quickly rush to them, grab the paper, and hurriedly sweep the rest into your arms, "What are you two doing here?"

     "I brought you a snack," Kouyou responded while holding up the small bag.

     "I was bringing documents, stalker," Chuuya said flustered.

     "Thank you Kouyou. And Chuuya, it's rude to snoop through people's things!" You lecrured.

     "And it's creepy to have so many damn drawings of one person!" Chuuya shot back.

     "You knew already! I draw you all the time. It's not like I'm subtle about it. I have seen you watching me."

     "What do you mean-" he stopped talking abruptly when he realized that the weird thing you would do during meetings and such. You had been drawing him this whole time.

     His face flushed again. How didn't he realize it before? Maybe he didn't expect you to have a hobby like that? His fists clench. He wasn't sure if he was angry or not. Even if he was who was it towards? You for drawing him or himself for being so dense?

     "How long?" He asked lowly.

     "For what?" You asked back and put the papers back on your desk.

     "How long have you been doing this?"

     "... since I met you," you said sheepishly.

     "... so only a few months?" He asked. It wasn't that bad.

     "... a couple of years," you corrected.

     "WHAT?!"

     You winced when he yelled. Chuuya looked to be both upset and bewildered. Years? The two of you only had met a few moments ago after you had become an Executive, right? Kouyou places the bag on your desk before walking out of the room so Chuuya and you could talk alone.

     "When did we meet? I don't remember meeting you," He finally asked.

     "I had recently joined the Mafia," you look away as you start to explain, "I was assigned to raid an enemy base with a group. You had joined near the end... I couldn't take my eyes off you."

     "... you couldn't?"

     "Yeah. You were so pretty, cool, powerful, radiant-" you cut yourself off before you could go into a rant about how amazing you found him and possibly let slip your actual feelings about him.

     Red crept up his cheeks. Had you truly thought that about him? Why was his heart beating faster? He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way.

     "You think that way about me and have for years?"

     "How could I not? Everything about you is amazing! I just want to be able to capture your essence in my drawings," you take a step towards him, "I want to get to know you better. Be more than just another co-worker."

     "Do you even know what you're saying!?" He yelled, mostly out of shock from your confession.

     You realized what came out of your mouth and became embarrassed. You took a few steps back from Chuuya. In your excitement you had spilled the secret you were trying to avoid having him know.

     "I- um... I need to go," you said before trying to run past him and out of your office.

     "No you don't!" Chuuya grabbed your arm and pulled you back, "We are not done here."

     "I'm sure I hear the boss calling for me," you said nervously while avoiding eye contact with him.

     "Mori is in a meeting right now," Chuuya stated.

     "Oh..."

     "Yeah. 'Oh'. Now why in the world would you say that? And what do you mean 'more than just another co-worker'?" He interrogated.

     You were too surprised and anxious to speak. Chuuya's hand was still tightly holding your arm. The look in his eyes were intense as he looked at you. As your eyes looked over his face, you could see not just irritation in his eyes, but intrigue as well, and something you couldn't identify since you'd never seen that look on him before.

     "Say something, damn it!" Chuuya yelled.

     "I like you," you blurted out.

     It was dead silent in the office. Neither of you moved. You wanted to hide and never be found again and Chuuya was processing what he heard.

     He let go of you and took a step back. Panic rose within you. How was he going to react? Was this a good time to take the opportunity to flee?

Chuuya leaned against your desk and crossed his arms. He didn't look upset. If anything he looked embarrassed. His eyes avoided yours and looked at the carpet instead.

"It was so obvious. How hadn't I noticed?," he internationally scolded himself.

He looked back at you to see the anxiety writen on your face. Leaving someone who just confessed in silence probably wasn't the best thing to do, Chuuya realized.

Chuuya cleared his throat before speaking stiffly, "Thank you for finally giving me information on why you were behaving that way."

He knew that wasn't the right way to respond, but he wasn't sure how else to. A lump formed in your throat. It felt like a rejection without him rejecting you.

The next few weeks were awkward between the two of you. Most could tell but none had either the courage or cared enough to ask.

You were at you desk filling out reports. The rain outside was a soothing sound especially in contrast to the storm of thoughts that clouded your mind. The door to your office slammed open. You looked up to see who barged into your office only to be met with a frazzled Chuuya.

He stormed over to your desk and slammed his hands apon it. His eyes stared directly into yours intensely despite his tired appearance.

"I figured it out," he stated.

"Figured what out?" You hesitantly asked.

"How I felt- no, feel about you. Why your absence bothered me so much."

His hands clench then leave the desk. He walks around to your side, turns your chair to face him, then cages you in your chair between him and your desk. You grew nervous from the proximity and the way he was looking at you.

"I feel so stupid for not realizing it sooner. I like you too (y/n). I can't believe I only realized it after overhearing a conversation about a damn crush."

Hope bloomed in your chest. If you didn't know better you would have thought this was a dream.

"The distance between us now has been torture," his jaw clenched. He couldn't admit how he was starting to miss your comments and how you would look at him, especially now that he knew how you felt.

Your eyes quickly darted to his lips. The ones that were pressed together tightly. The ones that had just confessed his feelings to you.

When you looked back up at him his eyes looked almost desperate. Almost pleading you to respond. Did you loose interest within the past few weeks after your confession?

Without thinking you pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened and he stayed frozen for a second. Right before you were about to pull away he kissed you back. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be.

After pulling away Chuuya smirked, his normal self back on display. The desperation that was there moments before was gone and replaced with satisfaction.

"A simple verbal answer would have been enough, but I'm not complaining. Though, I'll have to make it up to you later with a better one," he said.

You couldn't help the laugh that left your lips. It was more out of relief than humor. Chuuya's smirk softened slightly at the sound.

The two of you would have to figure out whether to inform Mori or to keep it a secret, but that could be done later.

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

This took me too long to write but I am happy with how it came out. This is almost 2000 words long. I hope you all enjoyed it.

[cinnamonest]

Pulchritudinous

Tohru Adachi x Reader

Words: 9.5k

Finally the day has come. I can write a character as a misogynist incel and know it's genuinely 100% canon. What a blessing.

for this I did a teacher! reader, therefore reader is of unspecified age but older than the main cast.

//VERY DARK, female reader, major p4 spoilers, heavy misogyny because it's Adachi how could there not be, implied stalking, near-death experience, major noncon (”have sex with me or die” scenario), threats of death and bodily harm, references to homicide, hair-pulling, choking, firearms, abduction, TV set shenanigans, Tohru likes pointing guns at people

Also I was too uncreative to think of a different slip of tongue so darling makes basically the exact same mistake Adachi makes in December lmao

Synopsis: As the homeroom teacher of the late murder victim, you’re called into the Inaba police station to answer some questions.

“Okay. Just a few questions.”

You forced a polite smile.

“Sure, go ahead.”

In truth, you felt like you were wasting your time.

You already knew most of what was going on. You already knew things that the police didn't. Sitting here was pointless, answering these questions was pointless — you could give him the truth, sure, but that presented a world of problems. It pretty much went without question that that would be a poor idea — you'd be written off as crazy, especially if it somehow didn't work when they tried to replicate your story. You couldn't risk getting fired, or worse, involuntarily committed over psychiatric concerns or something along those lines.

“Konishi was in your homeroom, right?”

You nodded. “That's correct.”

“And you've been to the Junes she worked at, right?”

“Mhm. Once a week or so.”

“Was she ever working while you were there?”

“I recall seeing her there once or twice.”

Yes, it was such a waste of time it felt frustrating. There was nothing you could say — well, nothing you could reasonably say — that would actually be of any help, as much as you wish there was.

“You were one of the last people to see her alive, right? The school said she came into your classroom right before she left.”

You nodded again. “Yes, she forgot to turn something in earlier the same day, so she came back to give it to me. It was only for a few seconds.”

“Did she say anything about where she was going?”

“Not that I recall. I just assumed she was headed home, or to work.”

“Did she seem to be behaving oddly?”

“Well, ah…” you thought back to the day, hit with a twinge of pain at the recollection. “She did seem like she was in a hurry. But not particularly.”

He wrote a few things down, pen scratching at the notepad.

You fidgeted in place, awkwardly clasping your hands together. “Sorry… I know those answers aren't very helpful.”

“No, no, it’s appreciated,” he assured you, albeit seemingly distracted by his task. You gave a weak smile in acknowledgement.

You hadn't intended to become involved in any of this. Hell, you just wanted a nice, quiet life as a teacher, away from the big cities, a small, quaint school. That was it, that was all you'd asked for — a place where you thought life would be slow and peaceful.

Serial murders were not the sort of thing that was supposed to happen in towns like these.

And even then, at this point you wished the murders themselves were the worst part of it all. You never wanted to be exposed to it all, wished you never slipped into that TV. You wanted a normal life, fully within the realm of reality. Not things that defied reality, things that made you pinch your flesh until the bruises were so numerous you knew you weren't dreaming.

Those kids had saved you then, sure, but now you bore the burden of knowing. Having to be aware of such a thing, the way it weighed on your mind, the endless confusion and disbelief as you still struggled to accept it, having to see those kids’ faces in class each day, having them awkwardly come up to you in town outside of school — a routine by now, wherein they assured you that they were working hard on “the case,” and of course, in awkward roundabout ways, always seeking assurance that you hadn't said a word to anyone else.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of such thoughts, turning your attention back to Adachi.

He was trying his best, you told yourself, even if you often felt like he was perhaps not particularly well-suited for police detective work. That dopey smile, that scatterbrained nature, it didn’t seem quite aligned to most people’s idea of a cop — someone who was supposed to be stern, observant, competent.

As for you, well, you'd felt pity for him, between seeing him barked at by Dojima day in and day out, and the general stress the man seemed to be under. You'd gone out of your way to try and be nice to him, even greeted him in public when you saw him — which, given the small world that was Inaba, was fairly often.

You'd been called in for questioning a total of three times, counting today. The first two had been at more convenient hours of the day, whereas today, the detective asked you rather last-minute if you could come in right then and there — inconvenient, sure, but when you considered that it was ultimately for the sake of the poor murdered girl, you couldn't bring yourself to reject coming. Besides, you were the one that found her, it was only natural that you'd be questioned extensively.

Still, there was an issue, one you had noticed as soon as he’d started questioning.

“I don't mean to be rude, but, uh…” You gave your best attempt to be polite, “didn't we… go over most of these questions before?”

He stopped writing. His eyes widened for a moment, but then, they closed as he gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish gesture.

“Well, ah, I may or may not have misplaced the notes from last time… I was hoping you wouldn't notice… haha.”

You did not like the knowledge that this man was responsible for public safety.

Still, out of awkward politeness, you waved your hand dismissively, maintaining the pleasant, not-too-exaggerated smile plastered to your face. “Oh, no worries.”

He looked down to the ground, turning his head a bit to the side wistfully.

“Well, now that you say that, more importantly…”

He trailed off. You raised your eyebrows, tilting your head in curiosity.

He turned his head back towards you, giving you another sheepish smile.

“…To tell you the truth… there's, ah, something else I wanted to ask you about.”

There was something off about the tone with which he spoke those words, an audible indicator that whatever the subject matter he referred to was, would be something uncomfortable, unpleasant, rather than an inquiry of a neutral nature.

You blinked a few times, taken aback by the unexpected shift in atmosphere.

“Oh, uh, okay. What is it?”

There was a moment of pause, as if hesitant. He leaned back against the seat cushions, holding his hand out in an explanatory gesture.

“Well, you know, I'm a pretty observant guy, and the higher-ups have me keeping tabs on various people involved… I tend to notice and remember details, take in everything around me, you know, stuff that goes right over most people's heads.” He paused and, catching the confusion on your face, added, “just to preface. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea.”

Yes, something was off. There was a tension in the atmosphere, anticipation making you increasingly uneasy.

But still… polite. You had to be polite. He was a good guy at heart, even if awkward.

“Oh, I'm sure it's fine.” You closed your eyes for a moment as you waved your hand again. “Don't worry, I'm not sensitive or anything.”

He seemed to take that reassuringly, as his posture seemed to relax, but still hesitated a moment more before leaning forward, coming to slouch over with his elbows resting on his thighs, resting his head against one hand.

“…What's a teacher doing hanging out with a bunch of teenage boys so much?”

You hadn't been expecting any one question in particular, nor even had the slightest idea of what he could possibly want to know, but nonetheless, the question he asked was so out of bounds of normality and social appropriateness that it blindsided you completely, leaving you to sit there completely still, slack-jawed and blinking. Still, you forced a smile as you replied.

“…Ah, I… what?”

He smiled as well, seemingly oblivious to your awkward unease.

“Narukami and his friends, I mean.” He tilted his head, gazing off to the side, seemingly trying to present the matter in a nonchalant manner. "I, ah, couldn’t help but notice I saw them talking to you outside of school several times, in all sorts of places.”

“…Narukami?” You tilted your head. “A-ah, well, those kids all… go to Yasogami. So, they're all my students…”

Your thoughts shifted to the kids — your own students, the ones who saved you on that day not long ago at all. And with the thought of them, everything else, all the memories and disbelief and bewilderment, the things you'd tried to push out of your mind for the sake of your own sanity, came rushing back. Your body went stiff.

But of course, you could never even begin to tell Adachi the truth. As much as you wanted to help, you'd be written off as crazy within seconds — saying people could enter an alternate dimension by stepping inside the TV screen was not exactly within the bounds of sanity.

Besides, you still weren't even certain how all that stuff worked, having decided to rid your mind of it and not ask any questions. Even if he was willing to humor you enough to experiment with your claims, what if it didn't work for him? You could envision it now, putting his hand on the TV screen, only for nothing to happen, and the horrible embarrassment to follow.

Then again, the alternative could be even worse — if it did work, what kind of Pandora’s Box would you be opening? Would you be putting people at risk? He was, in the nicest way you could put it, a bit of a dimwit, and you wouldn’t want him doing something rash and getting himself hurt trying to go in.

No, it wasn't even worth entertaining the thought. You clasped your hands together, looking down at the ground, coming up with an explanation on the spot.

“And ever since Konishi was…” You shook your head, pausing for a moment before you continued. “…A lot of those kids have been talking to the faculty… they need someone for comfort… counseling. It's been hard on them. Hanamura and Narukami just happened to come to me.”

“Right, right.”

The phrasing itself was assurance, but somehow, his response didn’t sound entirely convincing, as if insincere, and pressed you to stammer out whatever further defense you could find.

“A-and, ah, Narukami himself is still getting adjusted to living out here and all. He's… from the city, you know.”

“Ah, aha, that makes sense.” He kept up the awkward smile. “I was worried for a minute there… that you were one of those kinds of teachers.”

You blinked, eyes going wide open as the response came out of your mouth on instinct, without any real thought, simply the obvious thing to say to such a statement. “No, no, nothing like that, I…”

You trailed off, not even sure how to continue. The sort-of-accusation hit you with total bewilderment, felt completely unexpected. In what world was that an appropriate thing to ever say to someone, especially with so little evidence? Why would his mind even go to such a trail of thought? It was only the sort of conclusion you could imagine some kind of perverse deviant drawing, and you couldn't imagine him as someone like that.

But you refrained from any strong negative reaction, outwardly at least.

You liked to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was just one of those people that had difficulty understanding social conventions and standards of appropriateness — you'd had students like that in the past, and you liked to think you were a particularly empathetic and understanding person when it came to things of that nature.

“Ah, well, don’t worry, I get it now. Sorry about that… now I feel a little dumb for having asked, hah…”

"Oh, it's, ah, it's fine."

Your response was equally awkward. You knew your discomfort had to be palpable.

He flashed you an awkward smile, but it only lasted a mere second.

And then—

“Well, guess that's it for questioning.”

With those words, he reached over to the small table beside the couch, and turned the light off, leaving the room only dimly lit by lights in the outside hallway, coming in through the half-open door. He then stood up, the dated leather of the couch on his side of the table making a slight sound at the moment.

“A-ah, um, what are—”

Your jaw clamped shut as he quickly ventured around the table and sat down next to you — directly next to you, your thighs touching each other’s. You went rigid, hands clasped together on your lap tightening their grip on each other.

“Don’t worry, I had a feeling you weren’t that sort,” he said, a much lower, more hushed voice. “Still, you should really be more careful… it'd be easy for someone to get the wrong idea.”

Your mouth felt dry. You sensed that the pause was intentional, giving you room to say something in return, yet the utterly bizarre and off-putting shift of the conversation, combined with the sudden proximity and invasion of your personal space, left you silent, slack-jawed, and thus, he filled the silence when you didn’t respond.

“…Speaking of, you're getting kinda up there, age-wise, you know. Kinda surprising you're all by yourself.”

He leaned back against the couch. Alarm bells sounded in your head. You didn't want to be rude, you didn't want to risk overreacting — maybe you had the wrong idea, maybe you were misunderstanding, and then it would look really bad on your part if you acted on that misunderstanding, maybe he wasn't aware of how it was coming off, the possibilities of what was happening flew through your mind all at once. You sat still, but stiff.

He didn't seem to notice.

“You really should start thinking about your future.”

You felt every nerve ending in your body ignite with the discomfort and alarm of unfamiliarity as his arm wrapped around the back side of the couch, coming to touch the back of your neck, forearm resting on your shoulder. The casual hold around you grew tighter, his arm pushing you inward towards him.

“You know, ‘cause most women your age are getting into serious rela—”

You moved on pure reflex.

Your body sprang back in the opposite direction, feet scrambling against the tile. Your hands reflexively pushed outward, shoving against him, and you found yourself tumbling off the couch and falling flat onto the floor, grunting as your tailbone hit the harsh surface.

For a moment, the pain that it sent up your spine consumed your attention, distracting you for a few seconds as you winced, pulling yourself to sit upright.

And then, you processed what you'd done. Your head snapped back upwards to look at him. “A-ah, I…”

He looked caught off-guard, momentarily wide-eyed with the sudden startle, having been moved slightly to the side by the force of your push.

And then, his face fell.

His eyes went half-lidded, smile disappearing. A total shift in expression, to one you had never seen the young officer wear before — one you wouldn't have thought his face was capable of.

His voice dropped low, a flat and empty tone.

“…You too, huh.”

You blinked rapidly, heart only beating harder and faster at the feeling of dread and alarm that began to rise up in your stomach. You pushed yourself backwards, hands pushing at the ground to move your body away from him.

“What… what do you—”

“And here I thought you were such a sweet girl.” His voice interrupted yours as he took a step forward, a cold dramaticism to his tone. “So nice… you really seemed to get me.”

You blinked in bewilderment, cold dread beginning to bloom in your gut. You barely knew the man, having only spoken to him a handful of times, most of which were about the case, and a few passing words when you ran into each other in town.

He stopped once he reached you, his shadow looming over your sprawled form. His eyes narrowed.

“But no, you're just another snobby little bitch, aren't you.” His nose wrinkled with his expression of disgust. “Think you're too good for me, don't you?”

You scrambled up to your feet, stumbling on unsteady legs. You pulled your hands up to your chest, curling them into fists, a defensive reflex. Confusion and panic rapidly began to take over, you could feel your heart beginning to pound heavy and fast as the reality of the situation settled in.

“No, no I—” you swallowed, shaking your head in an instinctive reaction to the sudden hostility. “I didn’t mean to—I was just startled, don’t…”

You found yourself trailing off, unable to summon coherent words through your alarm.

He looked you up and down, expression of apathetic disdain unwavering.

“And to think I gave you a chance.” He sighed. “Thought you'd be different from those two.”

You blinked. Something about those words hit you like a punch to the stomach, but you couldn't tell why. Like a siren going off in your head, a chill that ran through your blood, your gut instincts unmistakably commanding you to get away — and you would, except for the fact that, as you realized with the sense of alarm in your chest growing exponentially, he stood between you and the only exit from the room.

“What… what do you mean those—”

Your words cut off.

Time itself came to a standstill. You stood, motionless as a corpse, as a chill pierced your chest. A deep, profound sensation of cold that spread out from your heart, into your blood. You were certain you could physically feel the ice spread out through your veins, to every cell in your being, an all-consuming cold.

You realized that, as he said those words, his gaze shifted over to the side. Your eyes followed his line of sight.

He was looking at the TV, tucked away on a stand in the corner of the room.

Why was he looking at the TV?

You could feel your pulse in your chest. You could feel your pulse in your neck. You could feel it in your head, your fingertips, the way the blood began to rush through your body, the way your heart began to pound, an electrifying sensation setting every nerve in your body alight.

The direction of his gaze, his words, the sudden shift in demeanor so drastic it felt as if he’d swapped places with a different person entirely— it made the hairs on your body stand on end, goosebumps spreading across your skin, and a deep, unnerving sense of nauseous dread as your frantic thoughts began to align. Your muscles went tense, shoulders bunching up.

Words came out between your lips, words you heard more than you spoke, as if your mouth moved on its own. A low murmur, just barely above a whisper.

“…Did…”

You took a step backwards. Your body twitched, shivered.

“…Did you…?”

Silence hung in the air.

You would expect someone in his position to look shocked, panicked, regardless of the truth of the matter. To rush to their own defense, to immediate respond.

But he did not.

There was a few seconds of pause. For just a moment, his eyebrows raised, but his expression was otherwise neutral.

And then, the officer's eyes fell half-lidded, and ever so slowly, the corners of his mouth pulled upward.

Something inhuman stared down at you, a malicious, sinister grin spread across his face, stretched just far enough to look inhuman, uncanny.

Your heart began to speed up. Your voice grew louder, but it audibly wavered with panic.

“You… you put them in there?”

That time, it was his turn for his eyes to go wide, an eerie smile slowly spreading across his face. He tilted his head, the motion seeming almost mechanical.

“Oh…?”

A jolt of panic ran through your veins as you caught your mistake. Your hands instinctively darted to cover your mouth, but it was too late. He took ominously slow steps towards you, each one making a harsh clack as his soles made contact with the tile.

“’Put them in there…?’ What an odd choice of words…” His voice grew lower, deeper, eyes still plastered wide open. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you know some things you have no business knowing.”

You took a step back.

He took a step forward.

“How might that be…? Those kids, maybe?” He cast his gaze over to the TV once more. “I had a feeling something like that might be going on, with you talking to them so much.”

Then, his eyes slowly turned back towards you.

He kept smiling. The same expression, yet so far removed from the cheerful, dopey one you were so used to, the face almost didn't register with your recognition, as if you were looking at a different person.

And then, it grew so much it made his eyes narrow, from mere malicious amusement, to sadistic glee.

“…Intentionally withholding information from the police is a pretty serious offense, you know. ‘Obstruction of justice.’ It’s a felony.”

Your stomach churned, you felt nauseous, muscles tense with the urge to move, but forced still by lack of option. You could only move back further, further away from both him and your only way away from him.

“What… what about the other people that went in? Was that you, too?”

His face fell, almost comically, shifting from eerie to unamused, as if your question was so exasperating it made him drop the intimidating act.

“…God, you are really, really stupid, you know that?” He sighed, shoulders falling. “You just realized that saying too much is a bad idea, and then you immediately do it again?” He shook his head, letting it fall downward with mock exasperation. “Geez, lady.”

But then, you saw his expression perk up with amusement once more.

“But, guess that means I was right… you are collaborating with those brats. I had a feeling.”

Your heart pounded harder still. You kept stumbling back as he crept ever closer, torturously slowly. You held your hands up to your chest in a natural, reflexive instinct of defense, shrinking back.

“…You’re not… saying you didn’t… do it…?”

He shrugged.

“Don't see much of a point in that now.”

He wasn't denying it.

But the simple fact itself was not what made every hair on your body stand up. It was a slow buildup of dread, blooming in your chest, and as the thoughts processed, it was those words, more than any others thus far, that made your blood run cold.

He didn't care if you knew.

He didn't see you being a threat. He wasn't worried about you telling anyone.

Then—

You felt cold. Time seemed to slow down. You were hyper-aware of every muscle, every nerve, you could feel the blood rushing through your body.

“Guess we were both hiding something,” he said in a low tone, taking another step, forcing you further back.

And then, the inevitable happened, causing your blood to run colder still, the fear in your system amplified tenfold in a single second.

Your back hit the corner.

You pressed into it as hard as you could out of instinct to get away, as if it would give way if you did.

But it did not. You were trapped, a little animal cornered by its hunter.

“Ah… ah…” Your breathing grew ragged. Your body trembled, your eyes began to water. “I… Adachi-san…”

The only light was that which came in through the hall, hitting his back, casting a shadow over his face, only the whites of his eyes and grinning teeth standing out — nightmarish, something that could only be recognized as sadistic ecstasy. Pure, unadulterated malice.

He was going to throw you in. He was going to throw you in there and you’d die. The image ran through your mind, so quickly retrieved now that it was irreparably burned into your brain, the shape caught up in the wires, a black outline in the early morning light, how you’d told yourself you were just seeing things, that your brain was spooked from the news of the prior murder, before the rising sun made the image undeniable.

The way you’d squinted and facial recognition hit your body like a punch to the stomach, taking the breath out of your lungs, how you felt the horror slowly rise up into your chest like ice cold water filling your body, how you’d dropped your phone and struggled to dial the police from how hard your hands trembled.

It would be you. You’d be strung up on the wires, dangling by your limbs in a manner almost graceful if not for the entrenchment in death.

You could tell that he could see it all playing out on your face, the thoughts and realizations and terror, by the way his smile split at the line, whites of his teeth standing out in the darkness.

“Well then.”

You didn't have time to move. Before you could even react, he had the collar of your shirt in his hand, twisting the fabric, pulling you upward.

You stumbled around, only the balls of your feet able to even touch the ground. “Wait, wait, stop— I’m sorry—”

“What was that?” He said, voice mocking, cynical. “You said you were sorry?”

You nodded profusely. You weren't thinking too much about it — your only instinct was that trying to appease him might save you.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to— I was just startled, I wasn't trying to push you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!”

You spoke so fast your words slurred together, your voice was shrill and cracking. Tears began to pour down your cheeks. Your body shivered beyond your control, a fear unlike anything you'd known in your life.

There was no movement, no harsh dragging and jerking and inevitable pushing you might have expected.

“…Hm.”

You could only make out the shape and colors of his face, unable to see his exact expression through the blur of your tears. But his voice was hesitant, pensive, as if the blood-pumping rush of the moment were brought to a sudden stop.

Your heels connected to the ground as he lowered you, but he didn't let go of the fistful of your shirt. His other hand reached up, and although you winced in anticipation, all he did was wipe at your eyes with his sleeve. Trembling, teeth chattering, you slowly turned your head up to look at him, his face now so much closer than it had ever been.

The smile was smaller, fainter, but still present nonetheless.

“…You know what? I like you, Little Miss Teacher.”

He reached up to grab your jaw, a harsh and painful grip.

“Look at you, apologizing like that… so meek.” He leaned his face closer to yours, lowering his voice to a husky murmur. “You seem like you know your place, recognize your mistakes…” His voice lowered to bitter mutter as he finished, “instead of doubling down on being a bitch.”

He pulled your head to tilt further upward, forcing a degree of eye contact no matter which way you looked. He spoke lower, quieter.

“Self-awareness is a good trait to have.”

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Your throat was strained, your mind ran blank. You could only stare with wide eyes, fighting every instinct to claw at his hands, what little rationality you had left telling you it would only worsen your situation.

“But I still think you're a little full of yourself.” His fingernails pushed into the flesh of your face. “You could use some humility.”

You whimpered, a pitiful little sound. You could see his smile grow as it met his ears.

He let go.

You crumpled to the ground, knees hitting the surface painfully, hands pressing to the floor to keep you from toppling over entirely.

He took a few slow, nonchalant steps back towards the center of the room, pausing as he reached a small table close to the door, turning back towards you and leaning against it.

“Hey, how ‘bout I give you a chance to redeem yourself?” He titled his head. “If you can prove you're sorry, I think I can let this slide.”

He reached one hand over to the opposite hip. Before you could even make out in the dark what he pulled out from underneath the veil of his suit jacket, the recognition hit as he extended his arm back out to point the object at you, and a heart-stopping, unmistakable click.

“Go on. I'm waiting.”

You trembled, reaching one hand to clutch to your chest again. “What… what do you want me to do…?”

His face turned unamused once more, voice equally so as he gave a blunt, low-voiced reply.

“You’re not that stupid.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your throat. You swallowed, looking down.

For a moment, you hesitated. Your mind scrambled for reasons why he couldn’t kill you. He couldn't — right? Your blood would get on the floor, he wouldn't have the ability to clean it out well enough, right?

But no one else knew you were here. No one would know to look here. If he cleaned it up and threw your body in, that would be the end of it.

There was no other option.

Your trembling hands reached down to your outfit — a cardigan, a button-up and a pencil skirt, the general standard for your profession — and slipped the outermost layer off. After a moment of uncertain hesitation, you resolved to simply throw it into the floor. Then, you began unfastening the first button at the top of your shirt, struggling with how hard you shivered.

“You wear that to school?” His words broke the momentary silence. “In front of a bunch of teenagers?”

You clenched your jaw. You didn't think it was in any way inappropriate. “I… it’s not bad…”

“Wonder how that's even allowed,” he continued, as if you hadn’t spoken. “You get off to high school boys staring at you, is that it?”

You shifted uncomfortably, shaking your head. “N-no, I've never—”

“God, you are that kind of teacher after all. Haha!” He laughed aloud, reaching his other palm upon to his face. “I knew you were. I could tell just by watching you walking out the school gates every day… always talking to that brat.” He shook his head, then sighed. “No wonder girls these days are such whores, with role models like that.”

You stopped mid-motion, hands clenching at your shirt as the meaning of his words registered. Images flashed through your mind, all the unique and loveable young girls in your class, and of her. Even in your dread, you found spiteful anger bubbling up in your chest, voice coming out weak and wavering, but defiant nonetheless.

“Don't… don't say things like that, you—”

“Did I tell you to stop?” His head snapped back in your direction, nose wrinkling with an expression of disgust.

You winced, mouth snapping shut. With tears prickling at your eyes, you continued.

Your jaw was clenched, face growing warm as you undid the last button, hesitating for a moment before you let it fall off your shoulders, weakly tossing it to the floor as well before going for the zipper on the side of the skirt, shaky fingers pulling it downward.

“So mechanical about it…” He sighed, disappointed. “If you're not gonna even try and make this part entertaining, the least you can do is hurry it up.” He gave the pistol a light shake to emphasize. “C'mon.”

You bit your lip, forcing your pace faster. The skirt hit the ground, and you pulled your tights off your legs so quickly that one side split open as you did. Your feet pulled out of your shoes, tile cold against your bare soles.

Then, you hesitated. Embarrassment washed over you as you looked down at all that was left.

Your eyes darted up to the man pointing the gun at you once more. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head with that cocky smirk on his face, nudging the pistol in the direction of the pile of clothing now by your side.

You closed your eyes and reached your hands behind your back, elastic material snapping as you undid the clasp. You pulled the waistband around your hips downward, and tossed both to the side.

The air was cold against your skin. Goosebumps covered your body, far more for from fear than the chill.

You reached a hand up over your chest, pressing your legs together, trying to find some semblance of dignity.

“Aw, shy? That's adorable.” He chuckled. Snide grin unfaltering, he reached his other hand up, gesturing with a finger for you to come forward. The other arm didn't move, deadly weapon still pointed directly at you.

You tried, but your body wouldn't move. The instinct to stay away was too strong, an inherent gut reaction bred into your brain by who knew how many millions of years of survival of your species.

Prey animals didn't run right into the gaping maw of their predators.

But you had to. You had to.

You took a deep breath, and forced one of your legs to move forward. Then another, forming a forward momentum that you just had to keep going, more a matter of letting your weight glide forward and catching it again and again, rather than forcing each step individually. You kept your gaze at the ground. If you looked up, you knew you'd freeze again, and you didn't know if you had the willpower to force movement from stillness again.

You stopped when his legs were visibly right before you. Your heart was pounding, beating so fiercely you could physically see the pulsating of your wrist moving with the flow of blood.

“There, see?” He reached forward, placing his hand atop your head. “You know your place after all.”

Even through the overwhelming sensation of heavy dread, the burn of humiliated fury made its way through. You clamped your jaw harshly, teeth grinding, but not letting that anger lead you to any foolish action.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes as his hands then brushed against your shoulder. The touch was cold, leaving a trail of sensation as his hand trailed down your arm, the electrifying feeling lasting on each spot even after it was touched. You winced at the gentle clack sound as the gun was set down on the table’s surface.

And then, you went tense, inhaling a sharp breath as his hands harshly grabbed at your arm and your neck, roughly turning you around and pushing your upper body downward. Your feet stumbled to steady your stance, and your hands reached out to the nearby wall. The panic in your chest felt as if some accumulating bubble of emotion had burst, the intense chill of suddenly rushing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but stand there — a bitter helplessness, a burning fury at your own pathetic weakness beneath the terror.

“Oh, and hey,” his fingers dug painfully into your arm, “feel free to scream or whatever. I made sure to pick a night no one else would be here.”

You stiffened. Even in your fear and panic and confusion, you managed to make the words out well enough to infer the implication. You turned your head over your shoulder to the best of your ability.

“You—you… planned…?”

“Mm?” He raised an eyebrow. “Obviously. I needed the station to be empty in case you made me kill you, y’know?” He said it nonchalantly, as if it were a trivial matter. “But hey, it was only insurance, just in case… I knew I probably wouldn’t need it. You seemed like you’d be good for me.”

He pulled harshly at the fistful of your hair.

“And whaddya know, I was right. Third time's the charm… or whatever that saying is.”

Bitterness welled in your chest. Your head hung heavily against his hold, pulling at your scalp.

“Now…”

You winced and yelped as he turned you around and your face hit the table, pain radiating from the spot of impact. Your immediate reflex was to put your hands on the table and push upward, but his hand in your hair kept you shoved downward, with an added hand pressing your back into an arch.

You didn't get any moments of mental preparation, much less physical. No sooner had you grunted in pain from the impact than you felt the sudden harsh burning sear of friction to the most sensitive flesh, your body being forced apart by sudden intrusion. You inhaled a sharp, gasping breath, instinctively trying to lurch forward away from the sting, but his hands easily pulled you back, pushing further inside of you until you felt the fabric at the front of his thighs meet the back of yours, hips pressed up against your ass.

“God, fuck.” You heard his voice from behind you, spoken more like a harsh whisper of breath. “…’s warm…”

He pulled back. You gasped and whimpered at the sensation of flesh dragging against your insides, onto to squeal, body jolting as he slammed back inside in one swift motion. Twice, a third time, each making you go tense, shivering, walls spasming.

“M-Maybe you're not such a slut after all…” he murmured. “You feel good.”

You said nothing, unable to summon any words, merely letting out a miserable little sound as the rough motions continued, pressing your forehead to the flat surface below as tears fell down your face and a soft string of under-the-breath curses made their way to your ears.

And then, the motion came to a halt.

“But you're so noisy… listening to you squealing like that is giving me a headache.”

A moment of pause, heavy tension, deliberately drawn out. You felt the faintest shift of muscle against your backside as he turned his upper body over in the direction of the television.

You grunted as he pulled out, leaving your hole twitching. His arms wrapped around you waist, lifting you just enough that your feet left the ground, somewhat awkwardly making a few steps over to where the screen sat in its place on the stand. Your heart felt as if it were going to burst out of your chest, a cold rush ran through your body.

His hand reached up, taking a fistful of your hair once more.

“And you know what else…”

He came to a halt, sheathing himself back inside of you with a harshness that made your jaw clench in pain, taking a few heaving breaths before practically growling into your ear.

“You're not afraid enough.”

Your own breath was ragged, more panic than you'd ever felt in your life causing your heart to pound like it never had before. “No, no please don't—don’t—”

And then, taking a fistful of your hair in his hand once more, he shoved your upper half through the screen.

Out of pure logical instinct, you tensed and squeezed your eyes shut as to brace yourself for brute impact, for shattering glass that would cut your scalp and scrape your arms.

But instead, there was a sudden void. All the noises of your scuffling movements and the low hum of the air ventilation system in the station was suddenly gone, replaced by only hollow quiet, only broken by the low, eerie groan of the atmosphere itself.

Your arms reached out, desperately seeking something to grab, to hold, to push back on, but you felt nothing, limbs merely frantically flailing into the yellow void.

You squealed, but that time, it echoed around you, surrounded by a thick, heavy fog. You could make out the deep yellow atmosphere around you, but you were being jerked back and forth so harshly, and the tears in your eyes and the fog itself so deeply blurring your vision, to the point it was impossible to make out anything.

You couldn't hear him anymore — but even so, you could still feel him pounding into your body.

He tilted you forward. You felt his arm, having pushed through the screen, latch onto the back of your shirt to keep you from falling. Your feet left the ground, your weight shifting from being mostly on the other side, to most of it falling forward on the side of your upper half. You were entirely suspended by his strength.

If he were to let go, you'd fall in completely.

You shrieked. A high-pitched wail that echoed all around you, a sound of pure terror. Your hands reached out in an attempt to push yourself back, but found nothing, merely flailing in the air.

And then, you were jerked backwards.

Your squealing continued until he slapped his hand over your mouth.

You could hear it again, the slapping of skin on skin. Your body was fully back in the real world. Your back hit his chest.

“Was that the sound you were making the whole time your head was in there?” There was mirth in his voice, laughing out the words themselves. “You wanna go back in? Kinda nice in there, isn’t it?”

“No, no!” You shook your head rapidly. “D-don’t, please, I don't want—”

“You could go all the way in, you know.” He pulled on your hair harshly as he jerked his hips forward and came to a halt, holding you still, pain shooting through your scalp. “It would be so easy,” he hissed into your ear. “All it would take is one little push.”

You gasped for breath, unable to respond beyond shaking your head further.

“You haven't been on the Midnight Channel, either,” he added. “Those little brats wouldn't know to come looking for you ‘till it was too late.”

He chuckled, a deranged, low sort — and then went quiet. His torso leaned further forward, face brushing against the side of your neck in a gesture that, in any other context, could have been affectionate. Still sheathed inside your body, he slowly rolled his hips again, a long-drawn out movement, savoring the feeling. Your face scrunched up with uninhibited despair as he spoke again, through labored breaths, as he began to speed up the pace again.

“…But you know what? I don't need the TV to kill you.”

Then, his voice lowered. The playful mockery vanished, something far darker that had been bubbling beneath the surface finally broke through — a low growling voice, a deep, furious malice.

“Stupid fucking woman. I could snap your neck. I could put my hands—”

His hand reached up—

“—On your throat and just—”

It squeezed hard. You jolted and gagged as your airway was cut off.

“I could kill you with my bare hands, right here. Is that what you want?”

You didn't give a verbal response, merely shaking your head rapidly, animal-like whines of fear coming out of your throat.

But that wasn't enough. You heard a low, growl-like sound in your ear, and his voice came out equally so, almost inhuman.

“I said, is that what you fucking want?!”

“No! No, please, Adachi-san, please don't—”

Tears, snot and saliva coated your face. You shook your head, whimpers fragmented by each harsh, rapid thrust that shoved your body forward, each jerk of his arms that pulled you back, and muffled by your asphyxiation.

You could feel his breath on your ear as he continued.

“Then you want me to keep fucking you, don't you?”

It was obvious, of course, that that was what he meant — the only alternative to death. You nodded, choking out your words.

“Yes, please…”

He didn’t respond immediately, moving fast enough that he had to take a few heavy, ragged breaths before hissing the words into your ear through clenched teeth.

“Then beg for it.” His fingers curled further, nails digging into your flesh — yet lightening the pressure on your throat, allowing you to breathe, even if only with heaving effort. “I wanna hear how good you can beg for me.”

You whimpered, mouth hanging open as you tried and failed to summon any words, emotion and stimulus so overwhelming it hindered your ability to even think. His cock stretched you apart, the circumstantial fear causing you to clamp down so hard that he was practically constantly pushing inward with force, rather than your body pulling him in as it might have done with someone you were willingly allowing to do these things to you. Each movement drug against your insides with coarse, burning friction.

He huffed in impatience.

“C’mon. Do it—”

He snapped his hips forward especially harsh, ramming your whole body forward with the force.

“—Like your life depends on it.”

The jerking motion snapped you out of the momentary stupor. Your voice trembled.

“Ah, ah, Adachi-s-san, please, I—”

“Oh, come on. Is that how you call your lover?”

Your brain scrambled to rectify the matter, but he was such a near-stranger to you, you couldn't remember. Maybe he'd said it once, but even as you desperately tried to recall, you couldn't.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I don't… I don't know your…”

There was a pause. You heard the soft, disdainful tch from his mouth.

“Tohru.”

You swallowed.

“T-Tohru…” You squeezed your eyes shut, words coming out uneasy, blatantly forced and foreign. “Please, Tohru, don’t… d-don’t stop, don’t…”

It must have been good enough, as you felt his fingers dig into your hips harder, felt his body shudder against yours.

“Heh… haha…” The amusement in his voice made a bitter burning swell in your chest. “You get off to this, don't you?”

Your mouth opened to protest, to say no.

But you stopped short, a throaty whine coming out of your mouth. Your priority was survival.

You nodded your head.

“’Course you do,” he mumbled, voice growing increasingly husky and laden with labored breaths. He jerked your hair again, pulling you even further towards him, ensuring his chest was firmly pressed to your back. “Little whore… it's always the girls that look so wholesome that are into the freakiest shit, huh."

You could hear the strain in his voice as it began to waver. He leaned in closer, breath hot on your ear.

"This was probably what you wanted, wasn't it? The whole hard-to-get shtick is fun for you, isn't it?"

Once more, you ignored any emotions or knee-jerk reaction of such an accusation, repressed the bitter fury, merely nodded your head. "Mhm, mm..." Your lip trembled, tears leaking out and trailing down your cheeks.

His hips moved faster and faster still, the movement growing frenzied and erratic.

“Of course you’d turn— turn out to be such, such a slut… I knew you’d want it, I knew you—shit—”

He came to a sudden halt, one final jerking pull of your hips to meet his, sheathed fully inside. You felt his cock twitch inside your body.

And then, everything was still.

With the sudden end of the slapping of skin on skin that had reverberated around the room, there was a sudden void of quiet, near silence, barring ragged breathing. You kept perfectly still, the shock and emotion that still coursed through your body so intense, you didn’t even shiver.

Your mind felt as if in a fog, a heavy daze that left you feeling cold and numb, everything felt far away, not real, distant. You kept still, staring forward.

It wasn’t until you felt him slide out of your body, releasing his hold, that you snapped out of the daze, stumbling forward, falling to your knees, legs far too weakened and stiff to support you.

For a moment, you kept your gaze at the ground. You tried to let your mind slip back into the stupor, desperate for some sense of escape, to savor the few precious seconds you could let yourself be anywhere but here, that you could shut him and the reality before you out, that you could delay facing having to look at him again.

But it was only the briefest of seconds before the light from down the hall was cut off again by the shadow looming over you. You began to shiver, chest heaving with breaths that burned your lungs.

Slowly, with eyes and expression blank with the remnant shock and daze, pathetically curled up on the floor, you turned your head upward.

“…Congratulations, Miss Teacher.” You could see the smile once more, the whites of his teeth practically glowing against the shadow, the cruel mockery in his voice crawling under your skin. “You’re way too meek. I've decided killing you would be no fun. Aren't you happy?”

Each gasp for breath burned in your throat, your chest. The words didn’t register immediately — several quiet seconds passed as you slumped over, staring up at him in a dazed stupor, body shivering with aftershock and weariness.

“Th-then… I…” you swallowed, body trembling beyond your control. “I can… go…?”

His eyebrows raised, a momentary look of surprise.

“Huh? Oh, no, no, you—” he cut off with a small bout of laughs, holding his palm to his face and tilting his head upward as if you'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. “Ahaha, don't tell me you actually thought I was just going to let you leave? That's—” He cut off with another laugh.

Your heart felt as if it sank. You felt cold.

And then, he went quiet. He slowly turned his gaze back to you, voice growing lower, quieter, a dramatic ominousness exuding from his body with his words.

“What kind of protector of the public would I be if I just let such a suspicious person walk right out of here?” Hands on his hips and eyes closed, he tilted his head downward and sighed, slowly shaking it back and forth in a mock gesture of exasperation. “You withheld information from the police, regarding a murder at that, and you seem to have knowledge of the killer’s M.O…. that’s what we call a ‘person of interest’ in cases like this, you know.”

And then, despite his momentary attempt at mock seriousness, his restraint seemed to crumble away as the corners of his mouth turned upward, malicious glee breaking through the act. His eyes opened just enough to look at you, narrowed by the grin spreading across his face once more.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to remain in police custody for the foreseeable future.”

You curled in further on yourself, shoulders hunching up, hands curling into fists before you brought them up to your chest in a meek, defensive instinct. Your throat felt dry. You felt your heartbeat pounding in your throat.

The way the smile on his face curled further made it clear the despair showed on your face. He chuckled.

“Well, c’mon. Put some clothes on.” He tilted his head in the direction of where they sat on the floor. “You can't walk out there naked.”

Your eyes widened. The words gave you a sinking feeling in your stomach. “…Out… there…?”

He sighed.

“God, you really are dense. Did you not get that? I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t really know what you expected, as the conclusion from his earlier words was obvious, yet hearing him say it so directly made another surge of panic course through your body. Instinctively, and perhaps against better judgement, you shook your head.

“But, but I can’t— I don’t want—”

“…Oh?” His eyes narrowed, unamused and dark expression on his face. “Well, if you don't wanna come with me, then…”

His eyes trailed back over to the television.

Even as exhaustion wore over your body, fear still gripped at your chest, and your answer came on instinct.

“N-no, I'll go with you, I'll…” You swallowed, squeezing your teary eyes shut for a moment before looking back up at him. Your body was shivering. Your next words came out in a hushed, high-pitched whimper, audibly verging on tears. “…I'll go…”

The smile returned to his face.

“Good girl.”

The words made you shudder, revulsion and disgust a twisting feeling in your gut.

After a brief pause, he gestured to your clothes again.

You looked over, but the fear kept you frozen. After a few still seconds, realizing you weren’t moving, he sighed, walking over himself, grabbing the bundle in a few swift motions before throwing the loose pile over to you. You swallowed, hands shaking and dropping the pieces more than once as you forced yourself to put them on, little by little, albeit now dusty, wrinkled and disheveled. You kept your gaze to the floor as you did, but you felt his piercing gaze on you all the same.

And the moment you fastened the last button, with no hesitation, you felt his hand latch onto the back of the collar of your shirt, harshly pulling you upright.

“Come on. Don’t try that stalling shit.” His voice was now impatient, irritated.

You stumbled on shaky legs, forced to grasp onto him to steady yourself. “I, I’m not—” you swallowed. “…Sorry…”

He didn’t respond for a moment, merely wrapping his hand around your upper arm in a tight, bruising grip, jerking you forward harshly. You stumbled as you were rapidly dragged forward, quickly exiting the room, out into the hall.

“And don’t worry,” he spoke again, “I’ve got a nice little closet to keep you in ‘til I can work something better out. Won’t that be nice?”

You didn’t respond, until you felt a sudden harsh squeeze in the grip on your arm. You closed your eyes and nodded. “I, yes…”

He seemed satisfied with the answer, continuing on, “Besides, being a cop has it's advantages. I can get more handcuffs, monitoring devices… it'll work out just fine. And hey, if you're really good, maybe I’ll hurt you a little less, yeah?”

You bit your lip.

It was all happening too fast to sink in, your mind struggled to process. You were leaving, he was taking you, you had to get away, but you had no way to get away, it wasn’t real it wasn’t happening it wasn’t right—

He halted as you reached the front of the police station. The sudden stop made you stumble forward in your momentum, clinging to him to steady yourself once again. You looked up at him in fearful confusion, and he cast another heinous grin down at you.

“Now, I’m not gonna cuff you just yet, ‘case we run into someone, that would give people the wrong idea and all… but don't think about trying to run or scream or some other stupid shit, either. I dunno if you’re dumb enough to think you could outrun me, but…”

He reached his hand over so that the edge of his jacket was brushed back, unveiling the same gun from before that had since been holstered back to his belt.

“Personally, I'm pretty content with the holes you already have… but I'd still be happy to blow a few more into your legs, if need be.” He tilted his head. “And that river down at the edge of town’s real nice and deep, if you decide to go screaming and drag some poor bastard into this. Got that?”

You lip trembled. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

“Good, good. Now…”

He pulled you forward again, the stride bringing you close enough to the front that the automatic doors slid apart. The cool, humid air hit your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, right. One more thing.” He cleared his throat, turned to you with that godawful grin of cruel amusement, and in a mocking, dramatized voice, said, “you have the right to remain silent, miss.”

Your chest burned with fury. Tears welled in your eyes, your face pitifully contorting with bitter anger.

It was the reaction he wanted. He laughed once more, holding the hand that wasn’t gripping your arm up to his face.

“Ah, that’s adorable. You’re fun to mess with, you know… that’s good.”

With that, he drug you forward again, out through the door.

Your shoulders jerked with a silent sob. Your fingers curled into a fist, and your lip quivered as you spoke in a hushed, but hissing tone, filled with fear and hatred.

“You're a murderer.”

You got only a sigh in response.

“Yeah yeah, sure, whatever.”

With an iron grip on your arm, the police detective led you out into the rural streets, the night air freezing against your bare skin. You followed with stumbling footsteps, legs trembling in trepidation. Unable to do anything but follow.

You realized, as the last strands of hope in your chest faded away, that even if there was someone out there, they might not even see you, with the visibility so low.

Likewise, you turned your head back towards the station, but within just a short distance, it was already completely obscured by the fog.

[dumplingsfordays]

fiery embers

pairing - vampire!wriothesley x reader

genre - VERY suggestive fluff.

summary - one dark night, you take refuge in a seemingly abandoned castle which, unbeknownst to you, houses a vampire.

cw!: suggestive, mentions of blood, wrio kinda uh bites you several times, reader is implied to be a little drunk

note - holy cow I am so sorry I took so long to write this, I was kinda busy with hw and a couple bdays so uh yeah 😭 I also feel like this can be applied to blade + maybe dainsleif?? sort of dark n brooding characters lmao-

And as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Your feet had never felt so sore before in your life as you approached your (hopefully) saving grace. It was a giant castle in the middle of the woods, with craggy black trees surrounding it on all sides - you were in the middle of a forest, after all. Sure, it seemed creepy and probably abandoned, but what were you gonna do when you have no other choice? Sleep outside, on the bare ground? No way. At least you could see a glimmer of orange light coming from one of the ground floor windows, most likely a fireplace. Ah, you were already imagining warming your frigid fingers by the flame...

Just a little more to go. Just a little, y/n, come on.

You shivered, your breath escaping your lips in puffs of mist as you approached the tall oak front doors. They were surrounded on both sides by crimson roses, their petals darker than any roses you've ever seen before, and their thorns were much sharper and longer. You paid them little mind as you pushed on the wood with your palm.

To your surprise, a door creaked open rather easily, and you entered the dark building with caution. When you turned back around, closing the door, you sensed heat coming from an adjacent room - thank God you weren't imagining things when you saw that flickering in one of the windows.

Hurrying over through a dark corridor to the room to the right of you, you arrived at a dim, and quite dusty, library. It was much larger than the bookshop in your village - bookshelves rose all the way up to a tall ceiling, and all of them were completely filled with the multicolored leather spines of books, illuminated by the gentle flickering flame emitted from the fireplace to your right. A mahogany writing desk sat in a far corner, and if there was something on it then you couldn't see it, it was too dark. Near the fireplace stood a loveseat furnished of the same exquisite wood, with crimson covers and golden detailing, almost daring you to sit down.

And sit down you did - with a relieved sigh, of course, and when you bent over to heat your hands by the warm fire you heard something shift in the corner.

You immediately whipped your head around. "Who's there?"

"I should be asking you that," came a baritone voice from the same corner, and following it, the figure of a tall man emerged from the shadows.

"I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please, I was just cold and I was so desperate to find shelter," you start to ramble, eyes widening in fear as you jumped up from the chair to face him. "Was I sitting in your chair? Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I'll leave now, I just needed to warm up a little-"

"There's no need to do that," the man interrupted calmly. He gestured you to sit back down, and, of course, you obeyed, albeit reluctantly. He pulled up a smaller chair some distance away from yours but still in close proximity to the fire and put his feet, donned in black slippers, up on the stone mantle.

You both sat in silence before he spoke up again.

"Are you from Carran? The village quite a ways from here?"

"Yes," you replied meekly and quietly, the overwhelming sense of guilt at breaking into someone's house (well, in this case, castle) flooding your system.

"Hmm." He paused in contemplation. "I don't know how you made it all the way here, it's freezing outside. I'm happy to provide anything you need, though, like food or clothes, in case you still feel cold."

At his mention of food, your stomach involuntarily growled - you forgot that you hadn't eaten in such a long time, you didn't have breakfast or lunch or dinner and it was probably late into the night by now.

"If it really isn't too much of a hassle or anything, I know that I just kind-of barged into your house and everything, but could I please have something to eat? I haven't done so in a while and I'll be grateful for anything."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile and stand up.

"Come along," he beckoned, "I haven't had dinner yet, so this is really the perfect opportunity to eat."

You followed him uncertainly to the kitchen, a large, open space with dark wooden shelves and a stove in the corner. There was an island, whose countertop was a big slab of (you guessed it) wood. The man, walking over to the stove, lit a match and started to heat up a pot, which, once it started to emit a pleasant, cozy smell, you realized to be full of chicken noodle soup.

When you sat to have dinner, you finished your meal way quicker than he did - such was your hunger - so you, as politely as possible, asked for seconds, which he gladly gave to you. Finally, after a tidbit of conversation, he brought up the topic of names.

"I should introduce myself," he started. "I'm Wriothesley. Well, Duke Wriothesley, officially. And you are...?"

"y/n. It's very nice to meet you, Your Grace."

He let out a short, booming laugh. "No need for formalities. You barged into my home, so I think it follows that we're past pleasantries by now."

Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment as you looked down at your second serving of soup, the broth glimmering in the gentle flickering of the candles around the room. You looked up momentarily, though - Wriothesley wasn't eating. But he said that he hadn't had dinner yet, and he implied that he was hungry...

"This sounds a little rude but..." you trailed off, trying to find words that sound a little more pleasant than 'you said you were hungry and you're not eating, so what's up with that'.

"Yes?" He glanced towards you and you swallowed.

"Why aren't you eating?"

The dark-haired man hummed a short note before answering. "I'll eat later. My appetite... lessened."

For a split second you caught a faint sparkle in his eyes when he said 'appetite', and that freaked you out, before you concluded that mealtimes were his own choice and you shouldn't really judge a person based on that. Shrugging it off, you continued eating.

As you finished up your second plate, Wriothesley, like a gentleman, scooped it up and placed it into the sink before asking if you cared for some wine. You, of course, accepted - what duke wouldn't have exquisite wines in his cellar?

You went back to the library to drink. The fire was warm, and with the alcohol in your system, it felt like you were wrapped up in a nice, cozy blanket while you sat by Wriothesley on the couch in relative silence, occasionally having tidbits of conversation with the man and taking a sip of wine every time another pause ensued. Eventually, you couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol making you feel this warm or just the fire - either way, you felt your previously nervous muscles relax, and instinctively, you shifted closer to him. Which was a mistake, as when your hand briefly touched his, you realized just how icy it was.

"Um, Wrio," you started, using a nickname that you assigned to him a couple conversations ago, "why are you so cold?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him turn his head to meet your gaze questioningly. "Am I really?"

"Yeah, you're freezing."

"Oh, I thought you meant unfriendly," he chuckled, "I just happen to be colder than your average human."

"Human?" you smile. "You sound like a werewolf or a vampire or something."

"And what if I was?"

"Well... I probably wouldn't care." Yeah, the alcohol was definitely in your system now.

At your answer, Wriothesley raised a curious brow. "Don't you think they're vile? Scary? Threatening?"

"If you were a vampire, you haven't bitten me yet," you reply matter-of-factly, "so I don't think that you're terribly dangerous."

In a flash, he was on you - trapping you between himself and the couch, he leaned forward, almost forcing eye contact. You were helpless to do anything but lock your eyes onto his ice-blue ones.

"And if I bit you right now, would I still be dangerous?"

"Depends on if you chicken out or not."

Wrong choice, y/n!

"Well then." He dove to the crux of your shoulder, letting his surprisingly warm breath tickle your neck before grazing his teeth across the delicate skin. "Let me know if it gets too much, hmm?"

Resolving yourself to your fate was really the only thing you could do right now. You stared at the dark ceiling as you felt his rough hand caress your hair, tilting your head to the side for easier access, and finally biting down.

It stung at first, like two needles being injected within close proximity of each other, before the pain melted into excruciating pleasure after a couple of seconds. Wriothesley removed his fangs, favoring to lick the flowing spring of blood little by little.

"God, you taste sweet," he groaned, running his tongue along your neck. You writhed in his hold, clawing at his back, pressing him to your form, begging to bite you again and again and again-

He retracted his mouth from your neck, his absence making you whine pitifully as you tried to bring his head down, back to your shoulder.

"Look, I can barely look at you without needing to bite, I just feel... a little wrong if you don't want me to."

His steely-blue eyes locked onto yours, desperation and desire clearly evident in their depths. Please let me bite, sink my teeth into your soft skin. Fucking please, please, I need to or I'm gonna die.

"Yes, just do it, 'm begging you," you cry, letting out a relieved moan when he scraped his fangs across your skin where he bit you previously. And then he bit again, this time lower, trailing down to your shoulder. His hands started to roam, one finding purchase in your hair and the other holding his upper body up so that he didn't crush you beneath his chest.

Never in your life did you think that a vampire sucking your blood was going to feel so intoxicating. You couldn't help but gasp as he ghosted his cold lips across your fiery skin, indulging in real human blood (sheep and cow blood were getting very bland, almost seeming to him as dog food would to a person) that, to his added excitement, came from such a beautiful body. He pulled out every single noise that you could make out from your throat, sounds that compelled him to kiss and nip and lick your tender skin with urgent attentiveness.

Soon you began to feel lightheaded - a state which you couldn't tell if it came from the wine or the loss of blood - but you let Wriothesley know anyway by tapping him on the shoulder.

"Mmh, you taste so good, sweetheart," he praised, "what is it you need?"

"I'm feeling kind-of lightheaded n tired," you whispered in reply. His eyes widened for a split second, but returned to normal as he pulled himself off of you, making sure to press a finger to where he bit you to stop the bleeding.

"I'll get a bandaid, but thank you for letting me, thank you," Wriothesley sighed as he licked his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He stood up from the couch, grabbed a blanket from a nearby shelf, and draped the heavy material over you, sort-of tucking you in before leaving the library to fetch a bandaid.

Now alone, you turned over to your side to look at the flames. They were dying now, embers flickering a deep orange as they cast light onto the surrounding bookshelves and you, and the heat emanating from them was pleasantly warm. Folding your knees up to your chest, you closed your heavy eyes and at last succumbed to sleep.

[ktdragonborn]

Another Spencer. (Chapter 1)

Carlton Lassiter X Female Reader (Shawn's Sister)

Summary: You finally moved back to California after almost 15 years away. When your mom and dad separated, your dad got Shawn and your mom took you. (Don't ask me why it's just what they agreed on). But now you're back! And you never expected to meet such a dashing Detective that would sweep you off your feet.

Characters: You, Carlton, Shawn and Gus, Juilet, Henry Spencer (dad), Madeleine Spencer (mom), Chief Karan Vick, mention of many other characters.

Warnings: None as of now! There will be smut and other graphic scenes as the story progresses.

~This story follows the show Psych. Plots from episodes are mentioned and some chapters will have you added to them. I do not own any characters from the TV Psych, just a big fan of the show and a bigger fan of our boy Lassie. I couldn't ever find something that hit my craving for Lassiter so here I am. This will also be a very long story. Very long. I'm starting it towards the end of Season 2 and plan on writing it throughout the whole show, skipping some episodes but in the end, it'll be very long.~

Please let me know what you think in the comments! This first chapter is kind of janky ngl, just wanted to try and establish the characters. But Lassie will the in the next chapter!

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<Chapter 1>

Shawn and Gus were sitting in their office, scrolling through information for a case when Shawn finally remembered vital information he had forgotten to tell his best friend. “Oh, dude!” Shawn exclaimed and Gus looked up at him with a frown. 

“Yeah, Shawn?”

“I forgot to tell you. (Y/n) is moving back to town.”

“Are you serious? When? Does she need help moving? Are you two still all weird?” Gus made a little gesture with his hands and Shawn rolled his eyes.

“No, we’ve been really good for the past year honestly. We call every week or at least try to, and text when we can. I think she’s here right now honestly, I know my dad was gonna help her move in.”

“Is she living with him?”

“No, she got a house near the beach I think.”

“Does she… you know,” Gus trailed off and raised his eyebrows at Shawn. “Yes, yes, she knows Gus of course she does. She’s my sister.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” Gus moved his head and went back to his research. There was a loud ringing that echoed in the office and Shawn grabbed his phone and had a big smile on his face. He answered and Gus tried to remember when he last saw Shawn happy to answer his phone.

“Hey, little sis!” Gus immediately understood and had a smile on his face too. You three had always been tight until you moved away with your mom in the divorce. Gus knew Shawn held some resentment towards you, leaving him alone with Henry, but Gus was happy that you two were friends again. 

“At Dad's house? Why not yours?... Oh you know your cooking is fine…Ah, yeah Dad is better at steaks than you are…Sure tonight works, can Gus come?... Perfect, we'll see you tonight!” Shawn hung up the phone and looked at Gus with his arms stretched out. “Dinner tonight at my dad's with (Y/n)!” Gus pumped his arms in the air and they both celebrated in their office before another phone rang. 

“It's Lassie, we gotta go!”

~I know,  you know~ 

You hopped out of your car and adjusted your shirt before grabbing the desert you bought on your way over. You smiled as you looked at your dad’s house. Not much had changed. You walked up the path to the house and saw that the main door was open, with the screen door closed, letting the cool air from the sea. You heard noises of pots and pans coming from the kitchen as you entered your dad's house. It had been years since you set foot in here and when you did it felt like a blast to the past. There was slight humming coming from the kitchen and your smile got even wider. You hadn’t seen your dad this happy in years, and with catching up with Shawn now and then you know your dad has been the same grumpy man towards your brother. “Hello?” you called out as you walked into the kitchen and your dad spun around with a big smile. 

“(Y/n)!” He exclaimed and walked over to you to hug you. You hugged him back with a laugh. 

“You saw me earlier today Dad and you’re still this excited to see me?”

“I’m excited for a lot of reasons. Shawn and Gus come over all the time but I can’t remember the last time I had all three kids in my house for dinner.” You smiled as he pulled away and took the dessert away from you, putting it in the fridge.

“That’s a good point, it's been so long since I’ve seen Shawn and Gus too, I’m kind of nervous.”

“Nervous for what?” your Dad inquired while he spun around and leaned against the counter. 

“I’m not sure exactly. I mean Shawn and I have been doing so well recently that I don’t want to mess us up again.”

“You know you did nothing to mess up your relationship with him. It was really just your mother and me. Once you and she left, Shawn became such a rebellious kid.”

“Well that and the fact that he had a cop for a dad doesn’t help,” you laughed and your dad laughed too.

“Don’t blame yourself, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong. Unfortunately, you and Shawn got pinned against each other in the divorce and that wasn’t fair to either of you.” You nodded along with what your dad was saying and stayed silent for a second to see if your brother had arrived yet. 

“Dad…is it true that Mom left you?” Your dad looked a little sad at the memory but gave a gruff nod in response. “Shawn thinks you left her. I didn’t say anything because I figured you or Mom should tell him, but why didn’t you tell him?”

“He was already so angry, but I couldn’t let him be any angrier at your mom. In his eyes, she took you from me and him, I’m not sure what reason he thinks that was for but I can’t imagine it's good.”

“Thank you for protecting me and Mom,” you said in a small voice with a tiny smile on your lips. 

“Anything for my girls,” your dad smiled and gave you another hug. “Now, help me set the table!”

~That I’m not tellin’ the Truth~ 

Shawn and Gus arrived right after your dad finished cooking the steaks. “Gus!!!!” you nearly squealed and ran up to him. He let out a high-pitched squeal right back at you and you both embraced in a huge hug. Gus wrapped his arms around you to pick you up and spin you once before putting you back down. 

“I can’t believe you’re back! I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again!”

“Well even if I didn’t move back here I would’ve come to visit!”

“Uh huh, almost 15 years and you never came back to visit,” Gus said with a matter-of-fact attitude. 

“Fair point, fair point, however, I was working on my degree so I couldn’t totally afford to travel.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shawn said while shaking his head. You gave him a big goofy smile and he did the same. You two embraced in a much more tender hug than the one you just shared with Gus. You both held each other tight, before pulling away and smiling at each other. 

“How are you, Shawn?”

“Better now that you’re back in California. Maybe you can help take some of the heat off of me from Dad.”

“I don’t know,” you laughed and started to walk to your seat at the table. “I don’t get into nearly as much shit as you do.”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Santa Barbara has something out for us ‘Spencers’.” You laughed and all sat down at the table while your dad brought the steaks over from the counter. 

“I’m not even gonna let you guys ask about me,” you stated as you filled your plate with the sides of tonight's dinner. “Tell me all about this Psych business.”

“Oh, I’m not sure-” Gus started, taking a big bite of his food. “After all, you’re the one who's been gone.”

“Exactly! And I’m back now so you’ll have plenty of time to hear how my life in Colorado was. After Shawn would tell me about a case you guys had I would try so hard to find somewhere I could read about it but it never really worked.”

“Fine, but we need to hear about you too.”

“I swear, I’ll tell you some stuff, but my life has not been nearly as exciting as your guys.”

“Why do you say that?” Shawn asked. He had known about your accomplishments and was shocked you were downplaying them so much. 

“I mean all I did was graduate high school, graduate college, get my Master’s degree and I started my own practice after receiving my Doctorate.”

“And you’re only 26 right now!” Shawn exclaimed and Gus raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. 

“That is pretty impressive.”

“Well when you’re doing the same thing as your mom, she tends to have some pointers about how to get things done quickly.”

“How is Mom?” Shawn asked and you shifted your eyes to your dad, who had been very quiet since dinner started. You assumed he just wanted to watch and listen to all three of his kids talk and get along. You knew the side of Shawn that was showing right now was not something your dad saw often. Your dad’s eye shot to yours and he smiled a little when he saw you looking at him. 

“She’s good!” You continued, taking the smile as a ‘go ahead’. “She’s kicking ass in her own practice. She’s actually started traveling all over, performing psych evals on current and new law enforcement officers. She inspired me to do the same. So, although I have my own practice, once or twice a week, I’ll go around, not just to law enforcement, but to any business that wants to do psych evals on their staff.”

“Look at us! Two siblings who created their own businesses,” Shawn said excitedly and looked around the table. Gus shook his head and swallowed his food. 

“Shawn, I love what we created, but it’s not nearly as impressive as your 26-year-old sister. We’re both 30-year-olds running a made-up business.”

“It is not made up!” Shawn declared and put his hands on the table. “We solve very real cases and earn very real money.”

“Sounds real to me,” you defended as you took a bite of food. “Best cases, go!”

“Solved a murder at the spelling bee.”

“Oh, we helped a guy with multiple personality disorder. If he’s still in town you may wanna talk to him. One of his personalities was trying to get gender reassignment surgery without the main personality knowing. And the other personality didn’t like that and started killing all the psychiatrists they went to,” Gus said as he pointed his fork at you. 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanna hear after you tell me to talk to someone,” you replied sarcastically. 

“We had an alien abduction case where a married couple was drugging and stealing from single men who went to a speed dating thing at a bar.”

“Where did the alien abduction come from?”

“That’s what all the victims said happened to them. They used some powerful drugs,” Gus explained. His eyebrows shot up when he remembered another case. “(Y/n), do you remember Scary Sherry?”

“Yeah, the lady who jumped out of the window of the asylum?”

“We had a case that involved that!”

“Yeah, some sorority girls accidentally scared a girl and she fell out that same window,” Shawn continued. “The dead girl's adopted sister went on a killing spree. Almost killed one of the detectives of the Santa Barbra Police Department because she was undercover.”

“Wow. All over some some prank because of an urban legend?” Your dad finally laughed and spoke up. 

“These two numbskulls weren’t supposed to watch what happened. And technically they didn’t. They saw Sherry in the window and then when they opened their eyes she was gone. I was able to grab her and pull her back into the building before she jumped.” You looked at Shawn and Gus slackjawed. 

“You’re telling me, you two started an urban legend?”

“That’s exactly what we did,” Gus said, very proud of himself. Shawn smirked before going back to their cases. 

“I unearthed a T-Rex skull.”

“We, unearthed a T-Rex skull,” Gus corrected and you laughed. 

“Like an actual full T-Rex skull?”

“Yeah, it's in the museum right now actually. I’ll have to take you to see it someday.”

“Before that, we made it to the finals on American Duos. We were Nigel St. Nigel’s bodyguards. He was the target of multiple assassination attempts.”

“Was he as much of a dick in real life as he is on the show?”

“Yes,” all three men at the table chimed in and you all laughed. 

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen all three of you agree on something. He must’ve been a real pain.”

“He also scored us poorly on what should have been the winning Duo of the season.” You could tell Gus was definitely still angry about that. 

“We helped prove Jimmy Nichols's innocence in a murder case too,” Shawn added. 

“You mean he didn’t actually kill someone? That’s out of character for him.”

“Hes a jockey too. Didn’t grow at all after middle school.”

“There was also that ring of thieves with the nanny cover. We found that because the Chief of the SBPD just had a baby and needed a full-time nanny.”

“The Chief hired you for that?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be easy but Shawn had to read into everything like always.”

“And look what I got us, an organization that would rob people's houses by using their security cameras that come with the nannies.”

“That is pretty intense, I won’t lie,” you said and stood up, taking everyone's plates from them and cleaning up the dishes. Your dad got up to help you while Shawn and Gus kept talking about their cases. 

“Dad was also a part of a creepy secret lodge. He didn’t want us involved but someone was murdered with the slightest venom of a snake from Brazil. The venom was put in the weird masks they had to wear.”

“Dad you were in a secret club?” You questioned and watched him frown as he grabbed the dessert you brought and started plating up the food. 

“Yes, I was, but I wasn’t in it for long. Too many politics.”

“I love that for you. Your own secret club,” you laughed and took the plates of dessert back to the table. 

“Those aren’t all of the cases we’ve solved though. Just the most memorable ones as of now.”

“Well I’m glad Psych is doing so well,” you smiled and ate some dessert. “If you guys ever need help just let me know, I’ll be happy to help. Especially right now, I don’t have as many clients as I did in Colorado just yet.”

“You know the SBPD might be hiring for a head psychiatrist position. We could put in a good word for you if you want,” Shawn offered and smiled at you. 

“I’ll have to think about it for sure. Once you are your own boss, it's hard to go back to regular work.”

Everyone agreed with you and focused on their dessert. You and Shawn started reminiscing on old times and Gus and your dad would chime in every now and again. You were a big family again, and it was almost as if you hadn’t been gone for the past 14 years. And that’s exactly how you wanted it to be.

Chapter 2.

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[newlondohollow]

I FUCKING HATE RINGS OF POWER

On fuckass adaptations (i like the castlevania anime) (heavy ranting below)

This is ASTRONOMICALLY random as it’s barely about Castlevania and more about something i normally don’t post about but I’ve been keeping this topic inside me for far far too long. 

I fucking despise, as much as i am humanly capable to bear pure hatred, Rings of Power. I always see people complaining about the “Netflixvania” adaptations being terrible, and I do agree that they’re not accurate to the games, but heavens gracious those people have NOT seen what an actual bad adaptation is like. Sure, Castlevania got an inaccurate adaptation, but at least the adaptation, considered as its own piece of media, is decent. good even. Not the greatest thing ever written or that I've ever seen but it was, objectively, well written and animated.

Unlike that jackass shit filled abhorrent abominacion by goddamn Amazon DestroyingArtPrime that is Rings of Power. I don’t mean to hate on people who enjoy it, not at all, but to those who do, I am begging you please raise your standards, honey you deserve better than that. So. So. SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER MAN.

Every single thing about that series pisses me off in ways I wasn't even aware I could be pissed off until my parents forced me to watch it with them because “well it’s lord of the rings!!”. I did enjoy spending time with them (though i was literally, physically coerced to do so) but i so fucking wish we had spent it watching something better cuz the whole experience was beyond frustrating. The fact that it no joke is the most expensive series ever made? Are we being for real?? One. Goddamn. Million. of dollars went into creating that fucking insult to not only Tolkien’s poor dead ass, but to cinema and the art of moviemaking itself. Every single scene is so obviously, clearly edited and oversaturated with after effects and I could count on one hand the scenes that were recorded without a greenscreen. The costumes seriously look like Halloween and Carnival props a single mom on a budget would buy to her kids and I’m not even exaggerating I so very mean it it’s true just LOOK AT THEM VRO SOME OF THEM HAVE PRINTS ON THEM PRINTSSSSSS THEYRE SO OBVIOUS AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE HEAVILY INSPIRED BY MEDIEVAL CLOTHING DAWG I CAN'T DO THIIIIIIIIIIS. Do you think it ends there? NO IT FUCKING DOESNT IT GETS SO MUCH WORSE. If the visual aspects of it were the only thing bad about it i wouldn't be here dumping a textwall but good god merciful above the writing is genuinely enraging. Like its not just personal pet peeves or small stuff level of frustrating, no it’s ENRAGING. Every character is both incredibly arrogant and rude and fucking stupid, yes even the good guys, EXPECIALLY the good guys, actually. The plot is as compelling as one of Jeff Bezos’ shit stained ass hairs and the dialogue is so dogshit and senseless i dont even know how delusional and self centered you have to be to sit down, write that, hear it being acted out and think “ah yes this is a great script”, that goes for the making of the whole series as well.

I won't sit here and explain why exactly it all sucks as i said cuz there’s plenty of youtube videos that do so (sadly some of them are fucking filled with bigotry i want to shoot myself) and i will instead move on to what pisses me of the most.

Some lunatics are actually, seriously saying that RoP has the same vibes as Peter Jackson’s movies.

Yes the same movies that are considered a cinematic masterpiece and classic, the same movies that won awards over awards over awards, the same movies that inspired every single fantasy movie that came after them. I’m well aware they aren’t accurate to the books either, but again, like Castlevania’s first anime, they are GOOD. They are great in fact, and no one can say otherwise without being objectively wrong. That trilogy’s vibes will never ever be reached or equated again, for the very simple reason that art and passion are fucking withering away in today’s world. The costumes for that set of movies were hand manufactured and weathered by the actors themselves CLIMBING UP MOUNTAINS. The weapons used were REAL. REAL, METAL FORGED WEAPONS. VIGGO MORTENSEN ALMOST GOT AN ACTUAL DAGGER THROUGH HIS FACE BECAUSE THE ORC’S ACTOR MISSED. AND YES HE DID BREAK HIS TOE BECAUSE THE HELM HE KICKED WAS REAL, EVERYTHING THAT COULD BE REAL IN THOSE MOVIES WAS. BOOKS, MAPS, EVERYTHING. ALMOST EVERY SCENE OF LANDSCAPES WAS SHOT IN NEW ZEALAND, A REAL PLACE. 

Tolkien hated the idea of someone adapting his works, yet i am certain that if he would have seen the Peter Jackson movies, knowing that they were made out of sincere passion and love for his works and as a tribute to it and him, he would have appreciated them. He certainly is rolling in his grave because of RoP though. It’s not just bad, it's soulless. Completely hollow. Filled to the brim with sfx and fake props, even the musical score composed by the same composer who made the Lotr trilogy’s score just sounds plain, not because it’s bad but because it so clearly belongs to something better than that. RoP wasn’t made out of passion for Lotr it was made for mere profit. One of the directors fucking made fun of a Silmarillion fan who simply asked a question about the goddamn Fëanorian crest, in public, for everyone to see. Those people aren’t Tolkien fans, they're soulless evil corporate pigs, they’re everything Tolkien, and I personally, despised and despise. 

It genuinely makes me so sad that, as badly recieved as it was, many series and movies AND HELL EVEN BOOKS AND GAMES are eerily like RoP these days, the death of art we’re witnessing is soul crushing and concerning.