#and “their man” is usually also someone elses man

[fluffylino]

Slow Down Bugboy

you're watching the news when you hear someone outside your window. is it a burgler? is it a ghost? oh wait, its spiderman?!

-contains soft themes (some injuries)

heavily inspired by that one scene from the amazing spiderman.

jisung is so spider coded🕸❤️‍🩹

enjoy~

keyboard clacking while you glued your eyes to the laptop screen. trying to make sense of the words and phrases you needed to write for an english assignment.

for some reason, you just couldn't focus.

maybe it was because jisung hadn't texted you since afternoon. glancing up at the clock to see it was an hour past 10pm.

your eyes now plastered onto the tv screen. the news flashing vividly. headlines popping up one after the other.

<Spider Man was seen fighting the giant reptilian>

<Who is this SpiderMan?>

the news anchor only raised more questions. dwelling into the details of this commotion.

you had mixed opinions on this so called 'man', who shoots webs out of his wrists. you'd rather call him

'weird insect man who crawls up buildings'.

was he a hero? i mean, he seemed like one. do you think you'd ever want to come face to face with him?

maybe? spiderman seemed chill.

anyways jisung!

right. where the hell was he?!

<ji, are you alive?>

.

<message me rn>

.

<are you okay? just mssg me if you're okay>

.

<JISUNG. HAN JISUNG>

.

looking away from your phone. you gulped down the lump in your throat.

was he accidently caught in the whole 'lizard incident' at the school...?

you didn't want to lose your friend. your bestfriend.

<i love you man, please tell me you're fine...>

"spiderman please...im really begging you to protect him if he's hurt" praying under your breath. heart pumping slower than usual while you took deep breaths.

the smell of your mom cooking a late night snack downstairs travelled up to your room. on any other occasion you wouldve eaten like a hog. but right now, you couldn't.

knock knock

soft thud

body taking a screenshot in fright. someone's outside your window. with how dark it is at this time of the night and only the moonlight, you think its a burgler.

That is until you see the silhoette of a masked man. the suit he wears is webbed, with colours of dark blue and red.

knock.

this time he presses his palm flat onto the glass, body slumping.

you throw your laptop on the bed, running to slam your door shut before making your way to the window.

"s-spiderman?" you mumble under your breath.

gasping as the man falls right into your arms. legs still dangling out. a catch a whiff of perfume that instantly makes your brain shortcircuit.

raising an arm to help him get the mask off. the mop of hair gives away his identity.

"sung..."

"han jisung! what the fuck happened to you?!" you exclaim, heart dropping when he rests his head on your shoulder. limply trying to hold onto you.

"i'm...uh s-shit" he mutters, grunting as you hold him up.

he plops onto the couch with a pained groan. you stand there dumbly. too much was happening. 

A heavy scent of blood filling the air. quickly shutting the window before kneeling down by his side.

"are you okay? what happened ji...please tell me"

cupping his face. his eyes widening briefly. shakily bringing his hand up to hold your wrist.

"lizard man VS bugboy...i hurt him more than he h-hurt me..."

even in this state, he finds the time to joke. laughing weakly until he notices the pain in your eyes. not just from seeing him bleed but also from the fact that you weren't aware that he was THE spiderman.

"i'm sorry for coming uninvited...t-there was no where else i'd feel safe"

jisung whispers, nuzzling his cheek apologetically into the warmth of your palm. you can't control your body or your thoughts.

carefully pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. theres a small cut over the bridge of his nose. his bottom lip is busted harshly. he's sweating as you caress him.

clean up his wounds. yes.

right now, what mattered most was stopping the bleeding.

"where are you going..." his voice trails off. puppy like eyes locked onto every little movement.

"sit up....as much as you can"

a soaked towel and disinfectant in your hands. jisung does sit up quietly. its surprising.

"baby it r-really hurts...mh" the boy whispers, staring at you with slight fear.

'baby' was a nickname he often used. but right now, it made your heart do a summersalt. without asking, he begins to take the suit off.

revealing his battered torso. bruises and cuts from the 'battle' he was in.

silence fills the room, apart from the soft hisses leaving his mouth.

hands weakly grabbing at your wrists to pry your hands away from the slash across his abdomen.  stomach muscles rhythmically tightening in discomfort everytime you applied a layer of medicine.

without much thought, you inch closer. feeling his heavy breath right next to your ear. along with a choked out grunt.

lifting your head up slowly, only to meet his gaze.

"i'm sorry for s-showing up like...this"

jisung whispers, scooching closer. your noses nearly touching. lips grazing against eachothers. you hum. far too out of it, to even get mad at him.

knowing he was spiderman put you at peace. knowing that he was safe was all that mattered.

injuries or not, you would take care of him regardless.

"say its okay" he whines softly, pressing his lips innocently onto yours. its too gentle to even be considered a kiss. you can't stop the grin that grows on your face.

realising how much your acceptance of him, mattered to him. sucking in a sharp breath when you peck him with more feeling. the subtle tangy taste of blood flooding your senses. his lip was still sensitive.

butterflies erupting in your stomach when he gently cradles the base of your neck. pulling you in for a deeper kiss.

"easy there bugboy..."

you tease, not letting him have his way. revelling in the toothy grin he lets out. laughing against you.

"i'm not going anywhere"

you reassure, threading your fingers through his hair. moving into his embrace.

"i want chocolate." he blurts out in a hushed tone.

"what-"

pecking you once more. and another time until he doesn't pull away. kissing you slow and passionately. pouring all his emotions out.

maybe spiderman wasn't so bad afterall...

.

.

.

.

.

teehee

[timmydraker]

CW: Implied SA, P3dophillia, (dubcon) sexual content

Jason hates galas the most out of his siblings.

Coming from his Crime Alley background and his death, it’s always uncomfortable with the subtle grimaces and obnoxious remarks.

The only reason he goes is because if he doesn’t Bruce won’t give him any allowance even though he’s twenty three, but it’s hard being a crime lord so he’ll take the money.

As usual, he sneaks off after a solid hour. He gives Dick a nod to let him know he’s leaving just so his older brother won’t freak out upon not being able to find him, and makes his way down the hall of the building he’s in to find the elevator.

Unfortunately it’s one of those stupid rich people ones where the elevator looks like a normal door so he has to look for the buttons, which leads him to get turned around a few times until he hears something interesting.

The sounds of obvious sex, cringy and almost fake sounding, makes the asexual in him gag but the crime lord curious.

A few times now he’s blackmailed rich folk with evidence of them cheating so if he can get someone else to give him some pocket money, he won’t need to come to the next gala…

As Jason carefully gets closer o the door, pulling out his phone, he can really tell that one voice is way too high and practiced. Fake, like those pornos his men watch too loud in their communal lounges for some bloody reason.

Apart of him is giddy at possibly finding some random richy guy being a shit fuck, if only because he finds the whole thing funny.

He opens the door slowly, making sure not a sound is heard from it, before peaking in to see what the situation is.

The first thing he sees is a guy who can’t be younger than fifty jerking his hips rapidly and huffing like a puffed Chihuahua, pathetic and kind of concerning. He’s on a couch angled so Jason can’t see his face, but the greying hair tells him everything.

It makes him have to hold back a snort but then his eyes trail over to the person underneath him.

Unlike the older man, the person is young and clearly not enjoying himself.

Jason only has a moment to realise this is probably a closeted gay man when his brain catches up and he realises who the other person is.

He only had a second to be disgusted because oh ew, gross gross gross, that’s his baby brother before shit that’s his baby brother.

Tim is the one making those performing noises.

Tim is the one being pressed down by a guy three times his age.

Tim is the one who’s making noises like he’s enjoying himself but is looking off to the side with a mostly blank face.

Tim, who’s only been eighteen for two months, is the one being used by some crusty old fuck and is seemingly pretending to enjoy it.

Jason wants to rush in and start attacking, to rip the guy off his brother and maybe punch his face into mush, but then he meets Tim’s eye and he feels his heart break.

Because Tim looks so ashamed, so disgusted with himself as he spots Jason and looks away with clear guilt in his eyes. He looks like he wants to crawl aaay and hide forever and Jason gets that because duh, his older brother just caught him having sex, but something about the situation just doesn’t feel right.

Jason thinks he should leave and give Tim some kind of talk later but then the older geezer on top of him speaks, “Fuck, Tim, you-god you’re so fucking tight, so perfect, such a good little bitch! Missed you little hole for months-“

The growl Jason lets out isn’t entirely human, something unholy that probably came from the pit, as he throws the door open and barges into the room.

Tim shakes his head as if to tell him to stop, but Jason is quicker.

He’s also quicker than the man who, ones his rips him off his little brother before he even process the door opening, he realises is a senator. He throws the man down, kicks his stomach in three times before driving a boot to his head.

Wordlessly he turns to his brother who is tearily pulling his dress pants and struggling to hold back sobs.

Jason holds out his hands in offer of a hug and is relieved when his brother accepts, because it means that physical touch hasn’t been ruined for him completely.

After just a few moments he mutters a warning to his brother that he’s going to pick him up and takes him out of the room with a last kick the man’s head.

He probably won’t die, but the brain trauma will be enough for Jason.

For now at least.

Jason holds his baby brother close to him as he takes him down to his car, finally finding the elevator with Tim’s silent help, and takes him back to his apartment.

On the way he sends a message to the demon brat, simply saying:

Don’t let anyone look for or bother me and Tim and I’ll buy you a snake.

[sunsets-and-crows]

I Wanna Be Yours - Chapter 3

Pairing: Sylus X Reader

Words: 5.1K

- - -

Tasked with infiltrating the life of Sylus, the most wanted man in the N109 zone, you're torn between what is right and feels right, blurring the line between duty and desire. As danger escalates, you must decide whether to carry out your mission or succumb to the magnetic pull of the man you're meant to destroy. In this game of power and obsession, betrayal could cost you everything.

Content warnings ⚠️

Dark Themes, Yandere! Reader and Yandere! Sylus! Power play. Violence and Gore. Smut: mutual masturbation. Stalking/surveillance. Reader slowly losing her mind. Sylus being hot and a menace. TRIGGER WARNING: stalking and dubious consent (Reader doesn't know Sylus is also watching her and gets a little handsy with hersef)

If you feel there’s any other warnings I need to add then please reach out and let me know!

You lay frozen in bed, breaths shallow, the silence pressing in, turning your own apartment into something like a cage. Outside, the city’s hum felt distant, indifferent. You stared at the ceiling, your phone still clutched in your hand from when you’d called in sick that morning, informing Captain Jenna that you would stay in Linkon until you felt better. Your usual weekly report would have to wait too.

The call had been brief, your voice cold and controlled, but brittle at the edges. “I’m not well,” you’d said. 

You hadn’t offered an explanation beyond that, and Captain Jenna, perceptive as she was, hadn’t pressed. “Take a few days, then. No one’s else can cover for you so the mission has to be paused until you’re better. Just… rest.”

Rest. As if that was possible.

Every corner of your apartment felt claustrophobic, the sharp lines and muted lights closing in, mocking you. The stillness, almost unbearable. The shadows cast by the dim lighting stretched too far, crowding the corners of the room, while outside the city pulsed with its usual dispassionate hum.

You’d killed a man - for him. Pulled the trigger, watched his body collapse in the darkness, the knife still inches from Sylus. The memory looped in your mind, every instant replaying in agonising detail. Your hand had moved on instinct, your shot trained with precision you couldn’t remember planning. The whole scene burned behind your eyes, refusing to fade.

And still, even as you felt the weight of guilt twist in your stomach, you couldn’t stop the darker thoughts clawing up through the silence. The way he looked that night, standing so close to danger, his strength an unbreakable presence. No one else could pull you into madness like he did.

You couldn’t deny it any longer: it wasn’t instinct. It was him.

That damned pinboard drew your eyes like a magnet. His face stared back at you from every angle: the piercing red eyes, the sharp, almost predatory jawline, the messy silver hair that looked too perfect in its disarray. And that body - muscular and powerful. A god of chaos and control wrapped in one dangerous package.

As the hours passed, you began to try and justify it to yourself. But no amount of rationalising could erase the truth: you’d killed for him. Your mind circled back to the moment, instinct gone wild, your gun trained on someone whose life ended at your hands, all for Sylus. 

You told yourself. If you hadn’t acted, he would have killed him. And Sylus… well the Hunter’s Association wanted him alive, didn't they? You tried to believe it - tried to tell yourself that saving him would count as part of the mission, that it was the right thing to do. But even as you repeated the word, you knew there was more to it.

The thought twisted in your mind, seeping into something darker. You’d killed someone for him. It had been quick, instinctual - your gun aimed and fired before you could think. And the traitor had collapsed in a heap, his life snuffed out in an instant. You hadn’t even thought about it at the time.

But now, in the silence of your apartment, the weight of what you’d done crashed down on you like a suffocating wave. You’d murdered someone. You, the hunter. The enforcer of justice. How could you justify that? How could you look at yourself and think it was acceptable, even for a second?

Your heart began to race, your breath growing shallow as the image of the dead man replayed in your mind. His body crumpling, the blood pooling beneath him. It was like a scar that wouldn’t fade, burned into the back of your eyelids whenever you closed them. What kind of person did that make you?

But you couldn’t sit with that thought for too long. Taking a deep breath, you calmed your racing thoughts and justified yourself.

No. You’d saved him. You would have done it for anyone, wouldn’t you? If anyone had been in Sylus’ position - if they’d been about to be stabbed in the back - you would have acted the same way. You would have saved anyone.

Liar.

The word echoed in your mind, taunting you, but you pushed it down, suppressing it until it was nothing but a whisper. You had to believe it wasn’t just about him. It couldn’t be.

But the truth gnawed at the edges of your thoughts, and you knew, deep down, that you were lying to yourself. You’d done it because it was him. Because the idea of Sylus being hurt - of him being vulnerable - made your chest tighten in ways you couldn’t control.

You stared at his image on the pin board. Him walking in the N109 zone, him in business meetings, him in his office, him, him, Sylus. Each picture seemed to distort under your gaze, his eyes drawing you in, his presence - his power - taking up more space in your mind until nothing else mattered.

You dropped your head into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to chase the thought away. He’s dangerous. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. But the more you tried to push it down, the more it bubbled to the surface, the more it consumed you.

You sighed, it was getting harder and harder to fight your feelings. You rubbed your hand over the crease in your brows, trying to soothe away the headache that had formed there. This time, it was clear that you were obsessed with him - every inch of him, it couldn’t be mistaken for young love and infatuation. Would it be so bad to just give into it?

The clock ticked steadily in the background, marking the slow passage of time, but you remained frozen, trapped in the tug-of-war between your obsession and your guilt. Just the thought of turning him in filled you with a visceral unease, a sick twist in your gut. How could you betray him? And yet, how could you justify not doing it?

You stabbed your fork into the cold dinner on your plate and forced yourself to look away from the pinboard, How could you betray him? How could you hand him over, not knowing what his fate would be? The idea filled you with dread, your stomach twisting at the thought. 

The truth settled like a weight in your chest. It wasn’t a decision you’d made in a moment - it had been building, creeping into your mind, just like your infatuation with him. You weren’t just following orders anymore. The mission had become something else, something darker and more twisted. 

You told yourself to let it go, that you would stop watching so closely. You wouldn’t interfere again. If Sylus got hurt - if he made a mistake - it would be on him.

But even as you made that vow, you felt the tug, dark and undeniable, pulling you under. The truth was as unyielding as it was terrifying: you’d fallen too deep, and there was no climbing out.

The second day of your sick leave dragged by in slow motion, every tick of the clock scraping against your already frayed nerves. Each passing minute felt heavier than the last, your apartment a quiet reminder of everything you couldn’t escape. Your usual clean standards were nowhere to be seen, the fork in your dinner from last night still resting on the plate you hadn’t bothered to clean, almost mocking you.

A soft buzz from your phone jolted you from your spiralling thoughts.

10:32: Tara: Hey! Miss you! How’s it going? Feel up to grabbing a coffee later? We can catch up! :)

Your thumb hovered over the reply button. A part of you baulked at the idea of stepping back into normalcy, as if facing Tara and pretending everything was fine would unravel the fragile grip you still had on yourself. But Tara was your friend, and she hadn’t pressed for any details when you called in sick. You owed her this.

10:47 Me: Sure, let’s meet at Café Preston in an hour?

10:48 Tara: Perfect! See you there! :D

You sighed, tossing your phone onto the couch before heading to get ready. 

The bell above the café door chimed softly as you stepped inside, the warmth of the place wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked goods filled the air, mixing with the subtle crackle of a fireplace in the corner. Wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, giving the place a rustic, homely feel, and soft jazz music played in the background, adding to the cosy atmosphere. 

Tara waved excitedly from a table near the large window that overlooked the river outside. The sunlight filtered through the leaves of the autumn trees, casting golden patterns onto the wooden floor. For a moment, you almost forgot how heavy the weight in your chest felt. Almost.

As you moved closer, the slight happiness you felt began to dissipate. Sitting across from Tara was Xavier. The air seemed to thicken in your lungs. You swallowed the unease that rose in your throat, plastering a smile on your face as you made your way over to them. 

You hadn’t expected him to be here. You didn’t dislike Xavier - he’d been your partner before this assignment - but his presence always carried a weight, one you weren’t prepared to shoulder right now. Especially not with the things you couldn’t say.

"Y/N!" Tara greeted, her voice bright and full of cheer. She jumped up to give you a quick hug before pulling you into a seat next to her. Tara beamed, her enthusiasm infectious as she pushed a cup of coffee toward you. “I thought you were dying or something. But then again, I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for too long.” She winked, nudging you playfully. It was so typical of her—sweet, worry mixed with teasing, always trying to lift your spirits.

You laughed, though it felt a bit forced. "I guess I just needed some rest. I’m fine now." 

You avoided glancing at Xavier, focusing instead on the warm wooden table in front of you, the gentle flicker of a candle casting soft light across the surface. But he made his presence known anyway. “How have you been?” He asked. “Captain Jenna said you were sick, do you need to visit the doctor?”

You forced a smile, "I’m okay. I think I just needed a few days off. Some time to relax and recuperate."

Tara, always the bubbly one, didn’t waste any time. She immediately launched into talking about work, asking you if you’d managed to see anything interesting on your mission so far. She kept things light, but you knew her well enough to catch the undercurrent of concern in her voice. Xavier, on the other hand, sat quietly, giving you the occasional glance that made you shift in your seat.

Tara smirked. “You’ve been off the grid for a couple of weeks. There must be some big developments.” Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, but you knew better than to indulge it. You shrugged, taking a sip of your coffee to buy yourself a moment.

“Nothing I can really talk about Tara, unfortunately all of those juicy details are confidential” you said, giving her a little bop on the nose with your finger and grinning at her.

Xavier, who had been quietly watching you with that ever-present air of concern, spoke up again. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You’re looking…tired.”

Tired. If only he knew. But you brushed off the comment, giving a dismissive wave. “Good to know I look as good as I feel,” You joked, but you could see how he winced, like he knew that his comment was out of line. You took pity on him, “Just a lot of paperwork. The usual boring stuff.” You lied.

Tara pouted playfully. "Confidential, schmofidential. I just want to know one thing-" She leaned in closer, her grin turning mischievous. "Is Sylus as good looking as they say? Because if he is, I might have to request to take your place!"

For a split second, the café around you seemed to blur, and all you could see was Tara. The irrational surge of anger that welled up inside of you caught you off guard, your hand twitching as though ready to strike her. You could see it in your mind- her cheek reddening from the force of the slap. But then you blinked, and the image vanished. Your hand remained still on the table, and Tara was there, smiling, oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you. You shook your head, trying to dispel the irrational thought.

You forced a casual shrug, your voice steady even as your mind buzzed. “He’s fine, Tara. I think people just like to exaggerate for drama. Nothing special.” The words came easily, but your chest tightened with the effort of pretending.

“Oh please.” Tara waved you off with a laugh. “You expect me to believe that? Come on, Y/N. I’ve heard the rumours. The man’s practically a god in that zone. Dangerous, sure, but also… Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing what all the fuss is about.”

You bristled, letting out a laugh that sounded more strained than you intended. “I guess your informants are liars, Tara. He’s really not all that. Trust me, you’re not missing anything," you said, though your mind was already flooded with images of Sylus and his unfair good looks. She was actually missing a lot and you’d like to keep it that way.

But Tara wasn’t buying it. She gave you a knowing smirk, leaning back in her chair. “You say that, but I can tell when someone’s hiding something.”

Your jaw clenched, “Let’s talk about something else,” you said sharply, and Tara, sensing the change in your mood, raised her hands in mock surrender.

The conversation shifted after that, with Tara steering it towards lighter topics - missions, work, and just catching up. You were grateful for it. You nodded and smiled at the appropriate moments, but your thoughts were miles away.

The café’s atmosphere continued to hum softly around you - quiet chatter from other patrons, the occasional clink of coffee cups and plates, the gentle rustling of leaves outside. It felt far too peaceful for what was happening inside your head.

Xavier, sitting across from you, seemed to be biding his time. Every once in a while, you caught him glancing your way, his lips pressed into a tight line. It was more like staring honestly. Eventually, Tara excused herself to grab another round of coffee, leaving you alone with Xavier. The comfortable hum of the café only served to heighten the awkward silence that stretched between you.

"So, Y/N," he began, voice low. "Are you sure you’re okay? I haven’t seen you in a long time. I missed you"

You shot him a glance, keeping your expression neutral. "I’m fine, Xav really.” You reached across the table and patted his hand which caused a blush to break out across his face. You quickly retracted it. “Just tired, I promise." You sighed before saying “I missed you too,” It wasn’t a complete lie at least.

He paused, clearly debating something, before leaning forward slightly. He smiled sheepishly before saying, "I’ve been meaning to ask…  I was wondering if you’d… want to grab dinner sometime?” he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. “Just us. I- I’ve liked you for a while and I would like to see if there’s a chance that we could move our relationship from friendship to something more ”

His rushed and inelegant confession hit like ice water, sending a cold jolt through your chest. You should have seen this coming - the quiet concern, the lingering glances - but your mind had been too preoccupied to notice. Your stomach twisted, and you couldn’t bear the thought of sitting across from him, pretending that your thoughts weren’t consumed by someone else. You couldn’t do it. You wouldn’t.

"I-" You hesitated, trying to find a kind way to turn him down. "I don’t think that’s a good idea, Xavier. I’m… I’ve got a lot on my plate right now." You forced a smile trying to show him that you didn’t mean to upset him. 

His smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment passing across his face. He nodded stiffly, his forced smile not reaching his eyes. 'Yeah, I figured. It’s fine.' The words were casual, but the silence that followed felt like a weight pressing down on both of you.

Just as the conversation threatened to fall into an even deeper awkwardness, Tara returned, oblivious to the tension between you and Xavier. She sat down with the coffees, flashing you both her usual bright smile. "Alright, let’s change the subject! No more mission talk. How about we discuss literally anything else?"

You smiled, but it felt like a mask - one Tara didn’t seem to notice, though Xavier might have. The warmth of the café felt alien compared to the storm inside you, a reminder of how far removed you were from this comfortable, ordinary world. How long could you keep pretending everything was normal?

The rustic charm of the café, the flickering candlelight, the soft jazz—everything felt jarringly out of sync with the churning inside of you. As if the world was moving on, oblivious, while you were sinking deeper into something you couldn’t explain or stop.

Sylus felt the absence of your usual shadow almost instantly. That persistent presence - always there, watching, hovering just at the edge of his awareness - had become almost... expected. For a hunter you sure were interesting. There was something about the way you moved, the way your gaze seemed to linger just a little too long, that had started to... interest him. 

He found the empty space you’d left behind strangely grating. He told himself it was only curiosity - a predator missing familiar prey. And yet, the thought of your absence itched at him, unsettling in ways he hadn’t expected. 

He found himself restless, a slow irritation building within him as he moved through his daily routine. Where were you?

“Boss, there’s been no sighting of the Miss Hunter for two days in the N109 zone,” Luke said, his voice breaking through the silence. The twins hung in the doorway of Sylus’ office, far too nervous to go inside. He’d been more volatile than usual with your sudden disappearance. “Shall we keep looking or…”

Sylus leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him as he contemplated your absence. For a moment, he considered simply letting it go. You were just another hunter, after all. But something about this situation gnawed at him. The last time he’d seen you, you’d killed a man to protect him and then seemingly horrified by your own actions, spiralled. He knew you were alive, of course, Mephisto’s only job recently was keeping track of you and relaying the footage to his master. But why had you abruptly left the N109 zone? Why had you abandoned your mission, him? It was puzzling.

“Keep watch,” Sylus murmured, his gaze sliding to the surveillance feed on the screen before him. He watched the live footage of your apartment with rapt attention, trying to figure out the mystery that was you. 

It was on the first evening that his attention became firmly fixed on you, his business meetings all but forgotten. There you were, sitting at your small dining table, a single plate of food untouched in front of you, your gaze fixed on something across the room. Sylus leaned closer to the screen, eyes narrowing as he followed the direction of your stare.

The pinboard. His face, his movements, his operations - everything you had gathered about him was pinned up in meticulous detail. But it wasn’t the board itself that drew Sylus’ attention. No, it was the way you stared at it, like you were seeing something more, something deeper than just the details of a mission. The way your fingers traced over one of his photographs, lingering on the lines of his jaw, the shape of his lips.

He watched as you lifted your glass, sipping at the wine while your eyes never left his picture.

“Interesting,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes glinting with amusement. 

He’d watched as you paced back and forth, clearly torn between your loyalty to the Hunter’s Association and something else that gnawed at your mind. His lips quirked into a small smirk when you grew frustrated and stabbed your fork into your dinner, then abandoned it.

Watching you slump against the wall, arms wrapped around yourself as if you were holding back something darker, sent a strange thrill through him. There was a breaking point coming, and he found himself leaning closer, caught by the intensity of it.

He’d seen the same look in others before, but there was something about watching you go through it that tugged at him, a pull he couldn’t explain. He knew you were battling more than just the mission - there was something else, something darker simmering under the surface. It made his pulse race in anticipation.

You were strong though, that much was clear and Sylus could almost hear the cogs turning in your brain. You’d seemed to have made a decision of a kind, nodding firmly and then retiring to your bedroom.

By the next day, his irritation had settled into anticipation, curiosity pulling him back to the feed as if by instinct.

Things had been different. He watched you through Mephisto’s eyes as you met with your friends - Tara and that man, Xavier. Sylus was fine at first but the more he watched the more he grew to dislike the blonde boy sitting across from you. How he stared intently at you and acted like he knew you so well. Sylus mused to himself ‘if only Xavier knew what was really on your mind’. He grew to hate the way Xavier looked at you, that sense of familiarity. 

Eventually, it became all to clear that Xavier had feelings for you, the poor fool had an unsettlingly easy to read face. That, coupled with the way he got too close to you, pissed Sylus off. An unexpected possessiveness twisted low in his gut as he watched Xavier lean closer, speaking to you with a familiarity Sylus found grating. And when he saw that telltale smirk on Xavier’s face - the one that told him exactly what was coming - his fingers had drummed a rhythm of irritation against the desk.

Xavier had asked you on a solo dinner. Just the two of you? A date? 

The audacity. Sylus' teeth had clenched, anger pulsing just beneath the surface. How dare he? Xavier, with his hopeful smile and thinly-veiled intentions, dared to make a move on you. For a split second, Sylus’ mind wandered to thoughts of teaching Xavier a lesson - a harsh reminder of who was in control. Perhaps he could meet him in a dark alley, where no one would hear the crack of bones or the gasps of pain. Sylus pulled himself back, clearing his thoughts. No, that was irrational.

But still... when you turned Xavier down, a wave of satisfaction had rolled over him. Sylus’ lips had curled into a smirk as he watched the way you dismissed the offer with an air of indifference, your voice calm and uninterested. You had just rejected Xavier - but he wished that you had crushed any hope he had in a single breath instead. Still, he was almost proud of you in that moment. And yet, what pleased Sylus most was the flicker of something else in your eyes. It wasn’t just disinterest - it was disgust. You hadn’t wanted Xavier at all.

By the time the third evening had rolled around, Sylus had nearly decided to call off Mephisto's surveillance. You were no longer a threat, he reasoned. The intensity from your first day off had dulled, and you had seemingly returned to your usual routine. You’d seemed to have no intention of returning to the N109 zone. He was about to turn away from the feed, his fingers hovering over the button to recall Mephisto, when something unexpected caught his eye.

He leaned forward, narrowing his gaze as the screen displayed a familiar sight - you, sitting in your apartment, your eyes locked on the TV. The candle light bathed your body in a warm glow and Sylus would admit that these were his favourite moments of the surveillance on you. The way you relaxed in your own home, wearing your everyday clothing or even better, like tonight, your pyjamas. Shorts that were so short he could see the way your ass hung out of them. A little silky strappy top that did nothing to hide your breasts, or the way your nipples pebbled in the night's chilly air. He felt his trousers grow tighter at the image of you.

But tonight, he noticed something different, something that sent a thrill through him - you were watching him. Not his movements, not his tactics, just him. The screen displayed an image he knew well - himself, seated at his desk from weeks ago, pouring over a pile of documents. The footage was mundane, unremarkable. Yet, you seemed transfixed, the look in your eyes more private than anything he’d seen before.

He leaned in closer to the screen as he watched, riveted, as your expression softened, your lips parting ever so slightly, gaze lingering on his image as though he were something more than prey to you. The realisation sent a surge of satisfaction through him. 

Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, your hand began to move, dragging down your body and toying with the waistband of your underwear.

His breath caught as he saw your hand drift to the hem of your shorts, fingers tracing idly, your gaze never leaving the screen. Interesting, he thought, his eyes darkening as he leaned forward. What began as an absent touch turned intentional, your hand slipping beneath the waistband, a small, almost imperceptible sigh escaping your parted lips. Sylus felt a spark of heat surge through him, more intense than he’d expected.

You shifted on the couch, shorts sliding lower, exposing the soft curve of your hips in the candlelight. He watched, captivated, as you gave yourself over to the moment, oblivious to the world beyond that screen. Your fingers teased along the edges of your underwear, movements delicate, almost tentative - until your resolve broke.

Heat flushed through him and his cock grew hard at the sight of you. Sylus' breath hitched, eyes darkening as he watched you succumb to your desires, fingers moving in sync with the rhythm of the footage on screen. The way you were completely lost in the moment, oblivious to everything else, sent a thrill racing down his spine. You wanted him and that thought drove him crazy. 

He watched as your movements became more intense and then with a practised ease you pulled down your shorts. He could see the way your pussy glistened in the candle light. You were wet. Wet for him.

He could see your gasp as you played with your clit. It was mesmerising to see how you toyed with your own body, clearly well experienced with bringing yourself pleasure. 

Sylus used his Evol to close and lock his office door ensuring his and your privacy in this intimate moment. He didn’t want anyone else to see the way you bared yourself for him. 

His jaw tightened as he took in the scene, the heat in his own body mirroring yours. Without breaking his stare, he reached down, freeing himself from the confines of his trousers, his breath steady but deep as he matched his movements to yours, never taking his eyes from the screen.

Your head fell back against the cushions, eyes half-lidded, lips parted in an unguarded gasp. The candlelight traced over your exposed skin. His grip tightened, the intensity in his gaze growing sharper as he watched you, imagining your hands replaced by his own, feeling your skin, your heat, your desperation. 

Legs spread wide on the couch, your wet pussy was completely at the mercy of his hungry gaze. Your fingers rubbing your clit torturously slowly. He groaned as he thumbed at the top of his cock, smearing his precum over the head and down the shaft to ease his strokes. 

His eyes had drifted closed for barely a moment before snapping open, irritated with himself. He didn’t want to miss a single detail, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that left him as exposed as you were. The sight that greeted him made him nearly lose control. Your fingers were stuffed inside your pussy, thrusting in and out as your thumb stayed firmly against your clit. You looked tight and he felt his dick twitch in his hand and groaned loudly. Your strappy top had fallen down, becoming almost useless and your breasts completely visible. God, you looked perfect for him, like a sin. 

He picked up the pace on his cock in time with the thrusting of your fingers, imagining it was him stuffing your pretty pussy with his cock instead. Fuck! Your face, your figure, your tits and of course that pussy. He desperately wanted a taste, you’d be sweet he just knew it. 

A low, primal sound escaped his throat as you pushed your fingers deeper, your thumb grazing along your skin with a rhythm that matched his own pace. He could nearly feel your movements, the way your body would tense beneath his touch. He matched each of your breaths, the controlled rhythm dissolving as his grip tightened, his eyes tracing the way your body arched. God he wished he could hear you. 

His cock was painfully ready for release but he held back, he wanted to cum at the same time as you. No, he needed to. To see the way your face would flush and your expression would shift. 

You were close, he could tell that much, your movements focused entirely on your pleasure, no longer teasing at all. You bit your lip hard and Sylus wished that he could take its place. That you would bite his lip so viciously. Just a few more thrusts of your fingers inside you and your thumb moving over your clit and that was it. You were cumming. Your hips moving uncontrollably and your pussy clenching around your fingers. You threw your head back and he wished he could hear the way you moans pounded. Maybe he would have to plant a bug in your apartment for next time.

 He fought to keep his composure as you came undone, your body arching, but the sight of you, looking so beautiful as you came, was his undoing. He moved faster, his hand tracing the length of himself as he watched you unravel, imagining the heat of your skin, the sound of your voice, and the feel of you clenching around him.

As you finally stilled, your breaths slowing, he let himself fall over the edge, his own release spilling over his hand. He bit back the groan that rose in his throat, a deep satisfaction flooding through him as he watched you sink back against the cushions, unaware of how intimately he’d shared this moment with you.

He looked at you on the screen and nearly lost his control at the sight of you sucking on your fingers. It was so unexpected and dangerously erotic. He watched as you stood up on shaky legs and headed into the bathroom before cleaning himself up and stuffing him back into his trousers. The shirt would have to be dry cleaned. 

A deep, satisfied chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned back, a dark resolve settling over him. This, he realised, was only the beginning. He would give you exactly what you wanted - and more. Even if you didn't know what that meant for yourself.

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

Chapter 3 is here! Please let me know what you think  ❥ Like, reblog, comment, message me, ask me something, literally anything - I live for your feedback on this  ❥

[yandere-paramour]

Why is noelle so openly unhinged towards darling? Does it stem from hidden fears? At least the others try to find common ground.

Noelle has DEEP psychological problems stemming from her childhood. Basically, Noelle grew up in a shitty 3 bedroom house with her mother, 4 sisters, and a rotating cast of stepfathers. She shares a father with her older sister, Odette, but is half-siblings with her younger sisters. She has no idea who her father is because he dipped when she was a young toddler.

Noelle's mother is a... complicated woman. To put it simply, she was a serious alcoholic more interested in trying to keep a man than she was raising 5 daughters, which left Odette and Noelle with most of the responsibility. After school, they would both go home to make bottles, give baths, clean the house, cook dinner, and basically raise the other sisters. Mom brought home a paycheck, but it was sparse and usually only enough for rent and a few groceries. Odette and Noelle went without food more than a few times so the younger ones could eat. It was worse when they were younger, but once Odette and Noelle got to their early teens, they started working to supplement the meager income.

In addition to this, Mom was also not too selective with the men she brought home. There was always a new man sleeping in the house one door down, and the bedsprings were always squeaking, making another little sister to take care of. Multiple men were creepy with the many girls, but Noelle always managed to threaten them/scare them off before anything too bad happened, but it seriously scared her; they never slept without the doors locked. Noelle and Odette escaped because they did well in school and got scholarships, but they are both deeply scarred by their childhoods. Their mom is older now (40s), and it's harder and harder to keep a boyfriend, so she mostly drinks, leaving the younger sisters home alone. They're teenagers themselves now, and Odette and Noelle send money home to help out and visit when they can, but they don't interact much with their mother. None of them really do.

Obviously you can see why Noelle is the way she is. She doesn't eat because she's used to skipping meals to feed her younger sisters. She has insomnia/sleeps very lightly because she's used to staying up to study/watch the locked door. She works/cleans/controls constantly because that is all she knows how to do to keep herself sane. Every aspect of her adult life is controlled by her shitty childhood.

This clearly spills over into her relationships too. The reason Noelle takes so much time with stalking gathering information and getting to know her Darling during dates at first is because she doesn't want to make the same mistake her mom continues to make over and over again. She needs to know you, needs to know how you'll react and if you'll be able to love her because any uncertainty scares her. Once she knows she loves you, she can't let you go. She can't let you walk out like everyone else in her life.

She keeps you inside because the inside is safe. She can control the inside, she can keep you safe and pure away from a heartless world that will crumble you up and spit you out, god knows she knows that. She wants to keep you pure and unspoiled by the horrible facts of life, untainted in the way she isn't. Your virtue and loveliness purify her, make her feel like her past doesn't have to haunt her so bad because you are here and you love her so maybe she is worth loving. She loves you so so so so much, she just wants to keep you close and safe because she doesn't want you hurt, she has to protect you.

Since Noelle does so much surveillance with you, she also knows you quite well and tends to pick a Darling that she knows will be receptive to her love and (eventually) love her as much as she loves you. Noelle's Darling tends to be someone who is overwhelmed and exhausted, afraid of the endless painful choices of life, and who wants someone to swoop in and take care of them, treating them like a precious treasured spouse while they sit loved and adored on a soft pedestal. Noelle will absolutely do this for you. She will shower you with gifts and luxury as long as you're a good girl who listens to and obeys her. She knows what's best for you, she loves you more than she loves anything, just let her protect you and everything will be okay.

When she lets you out of the house, even if you're with her and in her sight, she feels like she can't breathe. The world is dangerous and unpredictable and if something random happens and hurts you and she can't prevent it, she'll never forgive herself. She can bring anything you need inside, or she'll ask Ata for a favor and make sure no other people will be at the event to hurt you. She can protect you, she's not a little kid anymore, she's stronger now. Just please please let her protect you.

She doesn't know if she can handle it without you there at home, knowing you are waiting for her with a cuddle and a kind word, making her feel like she's worth something.

[deadnatura11]

I think we need to deconstruct the 'Risky Business' scene and take a step back -

I just watched a video where someone put Ryan's dancing and the actual scene with Tom Cruise side by side for comparison and it was... pretty spot on. Like maybe a 95% accuracy rate.

Now from a production perspective, we write this off as a fun homage and reference to an older movie that was probably pretty popular with the writer's room, which tracks given what we know about the bts workers for the show.

However, if we think about it from a story perspective -

Why would Eddie, in his first allowed moment of actualized joy, recreate the Risky Business dance scene?

On its face, Eddie has probably never lived alone in his life. He went from his childhood home to the army to then sharing a house with his wife and child to then only his child. That man has never had an actual moment of privacy. Here he is essentially 'alone' and he is learning how to be by himself, how to be okay with being alone, which he would have had to learn how to do anyway once Chris goes to college. Chris being in Texas is making Eddie reckon with this much earlier. And in doing so he is learning how to take care of himself and his needs. Circling back to the airplane disaster earlier this season, he needs to put his own mask on before he can help anyone else with theirs. He can't be a good parent to Chris without working on himself. And part of that is giving himself the space to be alone in his house, dancing in his underwear, naked. He is learning to let go of his shame, which we see happen by not even bothering to put pants on when he sees Buck. Usually, when this scene was recreated in other shows, the person "caught" dancing in their underwear feels immediately embarrassed and tries to walk it back. Eddie did no such thing. This is a step in the right direction.

Furthermore, Risky Business was a movie that came out in 1983 (and also was the catalyst for Tom Cruise's long-standing rumors that he was a gay man, which I won't get into here, discuss the validity of these claims, nor how it also relates to Eddie's journey). Given what we know about Eddie, he is a 90s baby. He was born a decade AFTER this movie came out. So by the time he saw it, it was not at the height of its popularity.

Like I've mentioned, this scene has been recreated throughout media since its debut, so there were many opportunities for him to learn about the movie on his own.

But the choice of pulling a Risky Business allows us to infer:

- dancing around is something he has wanted to do

- dancing the Risky Business dance was something he has wanted to do for a long time

Furthermore, the step by step recreation means that Eddie has had to have watched the movie, watched that scene, hundreds of times to do it so flawlessly.

Now imagine a young Eddie Diaz... sitting in front of his living room tv... late at night... the movie muted... rewinding the tape in his VHS to watch Tom Cruise dance around in his underwear and wondering why he can't stop watching and why it makes him happy.

I'll end by including this link to an OUT article about the cultural significance of Tom Cruise in 'Risky Business' to the queer community.

Tl;dr - Eddie saying he is straight means nothing as he was able to flawlessly recreate the 'Risky Business' dance scene from memory.

[melanieph321]

Can you write one for Kenan and can you make it in two parts

P.s I hope you have a good day

I made it a three part baby, just for you ❤️

10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 4)

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Deal Breaker Part 1/3

PART 2 PART 3

Summary - Reader meets Kenan during dinner at house.

Enjoy! 🤭

The sun had gone down by the time your best friend Tati pulled her car up to your house. The lights were on in the dining room, meaning you were late for dinner.

"So, are you coming to the concert tonight or not?"

"Not, and that's my final answer."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. This is Arctic Monkeys we're talking about. We've had these tickets for months."

You shrugged in your seat. "Sell them. I don't care."

"You don't care?" Tati's eyelash extensions batted vigorously at you. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that Marco and his friends are also going to the concert?"

Your silence was evident.

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Marco is a piece of shit that broke your heart two weeks ago. It's time to move on, and you can do so by joining me to see Arctic Monkeys tonight."

"I don't know about you, Tati. But two weeks is a short time to mend a broken heart. I'm not going anywhere tonight, and that's final."

"Come on, Y/N."

You got out of the car despite Tati's protesting shouts.

"Don't make me go alone! How lame would that be."

"Sell my ticket!" You shouted over your shoulder. "Or better yet...." You snapped back around once you were halfway up the driveway. Tati was hanging out of the car window, the engine still running. "Just give it to someone else."

Your best friend did not look convinced. It was hard for her to get a hold of those tickets, and she'd be damned to give up on you without a fight. "The concert starts at midnight." She spoke softly. "I'll come by to pick you up at eleven. Be ready."

"Tati." You sighed hopelessly, watching her car speed off into the abyss.

You were really not in the mood, which made the remaining walk up the driveway a torture in itself. Once inside of the house, you were met with music playing throughout the chandelier lit villa.

"Honey, there you are!"

A pair of heels made their way out of the dining room and into the hallway where you stood. Your mother, dressed in an expensive dress with expensive jewelry to go with it, greated you with urgency. "Did the library change its closing hours? What took you so long?"

You shrugged out of her manicured hold of your face as she inspected it. She was devastated to see a shimmering nose ring still hooked into your left nostril, after you vaguely promised to remove it in time for dinner.

"It doesn't matter." Your mother waved dismissively. "I've laid out a dress for you to wear in your room and make sure to tie your hair up with that blue ribbon that I like." She leaned forward, sniffing you down with her nose. "Have you been smoking?"

"What? No mom."

"It's that friend of yours, isn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and headed for the stairs.

"I want you back down here in ten minutes!" She instructed. "This is a very important dinner for your father."

Weren't they all.

Once upstairs, you dipped into the bathroom for a quick shower. Your dad was having an important investor over for dinner tonight, and as always, he wanted all of the family members gathered to watch him work his magic. Or, in other words, watch a grown man kiss up to another grown man in hopes of receiving money for some lucrative real estate project.

You had attended a hundred of these dinners before and knew how to play your part well.

Your mother, whose job was to entertain the investors wife with talks of fashion, cooking, and other feminine occupations. She had gotten so good at this that it was almost impossible to tell whether it was all an act or not. Perhaps this was the exact reason why you feared becoming like her.

Your job was to simply entertain the investors' family members, their kids, usually your age or younger. You were supposed to find common interest like sports or music, seemingly to create an relaxed atmosphere around the table so that your dad and the investor wouldn't feel too guilty about engaging in talks of business amongst other dinner guests. This could only work if everyone played their part, your dad remind ever so often.

"There she is!" Your dad rose from the table as you entered the dining room, pampered and dressed up, ready to play your part. "A beauty, isn't she?"

"Beautiful indeed." The man sitting opposite your father nodded. He must be the investor, judging by his slick back hair and piercing gaze that seemed hard to shatter.

To the left of him sat a boy your age. He had previously been engaging in a vivid conversation with your mother, seeing as she had no one else to talk to. The investors hadn't brought his wife, just the boy, whose gaze lingered curiously on you as you took your seat around the table.

"You look lovely, honey, really." Your mother said, with that fake smile of hers. In reality, she was furious that your piercing was still attached to your nose. It's not that you forgot to take it out. However, doing so was just too painful. And seeing your mother flush with embarrassment for her only child was probably going to be your only entertainment for the night.

Or so you thought.

PART 2 PART 3

DON'T MISS - 10 DAYS OF REQUESTS

(DAY 1)

(DAY 2)

(DAY 3)

[emilsendo]

Can you please make a muzan oneshot, smut with aftercare and muzan being alittle protective of m! Reader...

Thank you! <3

With pleasure I'll make this request! Take care💪🏼✨️👀

Also, I apologize for any errors in the text. I hope you will enjoy it.

_______________________________________

It was a day like any other, everyone looked the same. You, as a rank 0 higher moon demon, AND as the husband of the demon king, had a wide reputation among demons and humans alike. However, Muzan Kibutsuji didn't treat your strength like the others, he loved you too much to care if you were powerful enough. For him, you were and are his property, which he must protect against possible threats. Mainly rivals created by your handsome appearance. But who would dare to endanger the MUZAN himself? Probably just a real suicide.

Y/N was currently walking through the forest after mercilessly killing a man from the village he was passing by. As an Upper Moon demon, he must eat quite regularly in order for his strength to remain the same or even greater. Even if he sometimes has some signs of humanity in his heart, he still doesn't care much about this feeling. He had long since rid himself of the feeling of guilt in his soul, all in order to be able to kill more effectively and faster. He is about 600 years old, has adapted to living in the body of a creature and killing those who resist his actions. Y/N remembers almost nothing from his past, except for the feeling of weakness... his heart only remembers how he felt then, not what he was like and what his life was like, did he have a family? Did he have a wife and children? Was he someone important? Nothing. Emptiness.

While listening to the sounds of nature, he heard another sound, but of feet pattering behind him and then next to him. It was as if this person was fast enough to somehow teleport. Y/N looked at them, his c/e eyes meeting rainbow ones. It was none other than Doma, who no one likes because... he's the least bit annoying.

— Hello, Lord Y/N~! How is our handsome boy? — he asked with a practiced and false tone of joy, something that was probably the reason why no one liked him. Y/N remained unfazed by his presence, but he felt a certain irritation. Doma moved in on him far too many times, as if he wanted more than a punch to the jaw.

— How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Don't you have anything else to do? — he replied with a great show of dislike towards the demon next to him, looking at him out of the corner of his eye with his deadly gaze, which usually made every demon and human bend more than one knee. But not Doma, this type has too much of a disregard for other people's needs.

— Aww~ Ice cold as always, huh? I'm just trying to be nice to Muzan's lover~.... — he said. And his voice and facial expression were like a child who didn't get what he wanted.

—You'll be nice when you get out of here.— Y/N finally looking at the shorter man with his full perspective. However, instead of an answer, he received a kiss, which shocked him. He automatically pushed him away and punched him in the jaw hard enough to tear off half his face, staining his hands with blood. Doma looked at him with a strange look, maybe if his face was intact it would look better... The man smiled slyly as if he was proud of what he had done, lightly touching his newly regenerated jaw.

Muzan won't be happy with the fact that his "property" has been touched and Y/N knows it, which is why he felt a slight twinge in his stomach from the stress. Because he'll get hurt too.

—Who the fuck are you? — a deep and loud voice asked, while the sounds of limbs and bones being torn to shreds echoed throughout the room. The muzzled hand was tearing apart Doma's body, and Doma was not reacting much to any of these harms. The brunette's blood-red eyes scanned the demon in front of him, who was kneeling.

—How dare you disregard my order? How dare you TOUCH something that belongs to me? — he grabbed the blonde by the forehead, his claw drilling a hole in the skull. He then caused his cells to slowly melt Doma's body.

Upper Rank 2 began bleeding from the inside, choking on a red substance. Pulsating, almost purple veins appeared on his skin.

—I should kill you....But you are a useful demon because of your loyalty. However, one more move like that... and I will personally expose you to the sun.— Muzan threatened, letting his brother go free.

—Muzan....I'm sorry, honey. I had no way to react to protect myself from Doma's kiss... I didn't expect it. - you whispered, your voice sounding completely different because of the way the veins that carry Muzan's blood tightened around your weave. You were in a kneeling position in front of your husband, who was sitting on a chair, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes down on your apologetic form. He had you like this for a while now, letting his anger out on you.

—.....— Muzan closed his eyes and then stopped controlling his cells, letting you breathe. His gaze moved to the side, ignoring you. You could see from a mile away that he was still pissed at you.

The moment you gained access to breathing again, you gasped. Coughing heavily from the dryness in my throat and the lack of oxygen. But you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself, you had to console Muzan somehow, before he will kill useful demons.

You stepped closer to Muzan, resting your head on his knee.

—I love you, you know?— you said, knowing that this sentence would calm Muzan down instantly. The man finally looked at you, his gaze still as cold as ice. But his eyes became less wild, clear evidence that he had calmed down. His hand gently grabbed your chin, stroking it lightly with his thumb.

— I know. I love you too, you're like a toxin that makes me sick. But it is also very....addictive.— Muzan pulls your body up by your hand, he also stood up. Making you both switch positions, where this time you are sitting and he is kneeling.

— However, I want you to make me realize this by fucking me.— he said with a smirk. His tone was seductive and his eyes were filled with lust and horniness. Your member twitch at that sight, you couldn't resist your husband's "request", when it was clearly what you desired too deep down. Before you answered, Muzan already was working your pants off, he rip them off to be honest. Exposing your big and hard length that he loves so much, his tongue licks his lower lip, getting ready to the delicious taste he will have on it by a few seconds.

He opens his lips wide, already trying to deepthroat your dick with his tight canal. Making you hiss from pleasure and tighten your grip on the chair, claws digging into the wooden furniture. Your King sucks every good spots, pulling away for a while to spit on your cock to make it more wet. His tongue lick your tip, kissing it passionately as if making out with it, before going back down to your shaft. Licking up and down, massaging your balls and squeezing them from time to time. Making your head be on cloud 9 and resisting the urge to fuck your husband's throat. He wets your cock so good that it made such a sloppy sounds that made Muzan's mind go crazy, he only wants you to rile him like the last whore and then shower with affection. That's why he grabbed roughly your wrist and put it on his head, signaling you to control his movements.

You didn't waste any time in making him choke and gag all over your large cock, you could feel his nails pressing into your skin on thighs from pleasure and the feeling of your rough treatment. The feeling of a colossal hand gripping his hair, that clearly belong to you made his own dick almost cream his pants from excitement. And when you finally came in his mouth, he swallowed it eagerly like a treasure. His lips all red and swollen from sucking and having his mouth filled with something so thick.

— Take my clothes off. Now.— he damanded, but his voice sounds so needy and almost desperate. While he tried to mask it by cleaning your dick off from the rest of cum. You pull him on your lap with one move of your arm, making him gasp a bit. Before you took off his whole clothes, your gaze fixed on his expression that showed a pure lust. Muzan's mouth instinctively wrap itself around your fingers, wetting them as if he knows by the look on your face what you want him to do.

— Good slut.— you said with a smirk and satisfaction, even if your husband doesn't seem to like this nickname. (He feels butterflies in his stomach but his mind refuse to accept it)

— I am NOT a slut.— he said with serious tone, sounding a bit stern.

— Then I'll have to prove you wrong. Cause sluts like you can take cocks like mine without preparation.— You said, making Muzan look at you in confusion and he understood in a second what you meant.

— Oi, no!— he tried to protest in panic, his eyes widen, a loud scream from pleasure and pain left his mouth as you slam your cock inside him with one, smooth move. You groan at the tightness around your cock, it almost felt like it's sucking you inside.

— Don't cry, honey... I know you like it. Good slut-husbands like you are experts in satisfing your beloved.— you whisper in his ear, wiping his tears off from his cheeks. You looked at his expression that was a mix of pleasure and pain, his teeth clenched from the feeling of you deep inside him, touching his prostate with the tip of your cock.

Muzan was quiet for a few seconds, before he chuckles from esctasy and his red eyes fixed on you. He tighten his gummy like walls around your member to tease you and motivate you into fucking him.

— Of course.....I'll take care of your crotch like a good husband slut.— Muzan's lips kissed your face, starting with you forehead and ending at your lips. He really do love you for agreeing for you to call him this way....

Next thing he knows was you making him bounce like a desperate bunny on your dick, making sloppy sounds from going in and out of his entrance. The sounds of his loud moaning, mewling and your grunts and groans spread all over his office. Muzan's hair were messy and wet from sweat. His eyes unfocused. His sharp nails digging intl your shoulders. His legs shaking. His walls clenched and unclenched from pleasure and overstimulation. You hit his prostate over and over again, making him wanna cry to heavens.... or to hell.

Suddenly, you stand up with him in your arms, surprising him a bit as he got placed on his desk with legs spread. His back met the surface of the wooden furniture, he pants like a dog as he watched you put his legs on your shoulders, making your balls made a contact with his ass. He whimpers from that feeling.

— Fuck me.....Fuck your slutty husband.....fill me with your hiers and have the satisfaction of owning the King of demons~— Muzan said with a smirk, chest going up and down from breathing hard. That words went straight to your cock, twitching inside your lover. Your gaze like a predator, as you move oncr again. Hips snapping back and forth hard and deep, as if you were seriously trying to make him pregnant or break. He grip onto the edges of his desk, almost destroying it with his demonic strength. The pre-cum made it easier for you to go in and out of his warm and wet ass. His entrance sucked you greedy in, as if not planning for you to leave it.

— Such a good slut for me, huh? Your tiny hole seems not to want me to let go.— you said between moans, rubbing his pale waist in your hands.

— Uh-huh.....Haah...haaah...haaah...Not let go....haah...HAAH....HAAHH...— he said dumbly, without thinking twice before saying it. Feeling stupid from esctasy.

Hours passed, it was already morning and you two only just done having sex. You slip your cock out of his hole, making the cum drip from Muzan's ass. You looked at your dear husband that you spent your whole life as a demon. Admiring his appearance that looked so messy. It's kinda sad that the marks you left regenerate faster than you blink...But you still felt satisfaction, because you owned THE Muzan Kibutsuji.

— Very well, Y/N......you kept me satisfy.— Kibutsuji said, his voice breathless but his gaze intense. He pulls you towards him with strong grip, making you lay on top of his body. Rubbing your back and head with his hand.

— But you have to make me a bath with rose petals.— he demand, looking down at you with a smile. You snuggle against his chest, squeezing his nipples between your fingers. Making him glare at you.

— Control yourself. I want bath.—

— Hehehe....— you laughed nervously.

[huopilled]

⤷ COUPLE UP — k.mj

masterlist | next

ೃ࿔࿐ CHAPTER I — GAME START

the cameras were focused on her, the studio lights making her sweat a little. she hoped they weren't able to see the beads of sweat through the cameras. yn always got a little nervous when she was in front of a camera, it was ironic that her whole career was built on cameras and other people.

"okay yn you ready?"

she cleared her throat as silently as she could, "yes."

"great. three... two... start!"

yn had to do something for her intro before talking. she decided on a simple wave, as her fans talked about how cute she looks while waving. she decided to play it safe.

"state your age and name please."

"lee yn. nineteen."

"nice to meet you yn. first we will explain the details and the rules of the game to you. is there anything you'd like to ask?"

she shook her head.

"great. so this game..."

they had explained everything thoroughly before she even signed the contract to agree to play the game so she knew what they were talking about. deciding to tune the mc out, yn nodded here and there letting the man know that she was listening. i mean she wasn't but... whatever.

"so yn, what do you think about the game overall?"

she'd tried to come up with something cheeky to say but she couldn't find anything. but she hoped it wouldn't matter how much fanservice she did right now because the game was full of fanservice anyway.

"i think it's great! i've never seen something like this before so i'm exited. i'm also very happy to meet new people!"

well she didn't lie that much this time, she really was excited. she was also nervous but no one had to know about that part. i mean if she even said it no one would care, and her fans would probably try to look into it and come up with crazy theories. god, she really didn't want to deal with that.

when the shooting was over they let her sit around for a little bit before getting her into the car that would take her to the house she would be staying at. she liked car rides, minus the part where she would get carsick. she usually preferred sleeping through the rides but she had to talk to a camera this time. it was okay i guess, she just felt weird talking to a camera all by herself.

"hey guys," yn smiled, a little shy, "did you miss my pretty face? i'm kidding, or am i?"

she continued to talk for five minutes before stopping the video and closing her eyes, hoping to get some sleep before a tiring day.

after a while, yn opened her eyes. coincidentally they had just parked the car and opened her door for her to get out. after stepping out of the car she looked at the building in front of her in awe. she hadn't expected it to be this big but it made sense, since there would be seven other people staying in there.

after going inside and looking at the rooms yn was told to sit down at the table that they temporarily put inside of the living room. after she sat down, they quickly started recording.

"okay so, you're going to choose someone after reading these papers and that'll be your partner from now on, so choose wisely."

"oh this is interesting..."

she started to read slowly, sometimes raising an eyebrow or two, sometimes smiling. she'd read all four papers when she picked the third one.

"this," she showed her paper to the camera "is my partner."

"okay," said the main mc "can you tell us what made you choose that person?"

"um... the fact that she can speak three languages is pretty cool. and it says here that she likes eating ice cream in winter and wearing mostly black clothes. we have those in common."

"okay great. thank you yn."

she smiled and nodded, slowly getting up from her seat and going over to one of the rooms. she laid on one side of the bed and slowly drifted to sleep. an hour later a staff member woke her up, telling her that she had to get a few photos taken. yn nodded and followed the staff out of the room.

after the shooting, she realized she had to eat or else she would be too hungry to sleep after. she opted for ramen, a quick and easy dish, also quite tasty for a packaged food.

as she was eating she began to wonder who her partner would be and what games they would play. she hoped it wasn't someone mean, she really didn't have the energy to deal with a mean person especially for a long time.

she sighed and decided to stop thinking. she didn't want to ruin the surprise by trying to guess who she'd be staying with anyway.

taglist— @saysirhc

[puff0o0]

Gromsko Dating HC

Flirting

♡ When I tell you that this man is so serious when he flirts with you, i mean it. It started off as just simple compliments- complimenting your skills if you're a soldier, complimenting new clothes, comparing hand sizes (yes he's one of those guys, it gives him an excuse to hold your hand and he takes it)

♡ Eventually it becomes less subtle and more bold, bad picku up lines to make you laugh despite him meaning every single word, just straight up holding your hand, complimenting every part of you. Many would think you're already dating, especially if you flirt back

♡ When you do, or if you do flirt back, he has to stop himself from going wild. His heart is beating in his chest, his hands are stiffening, he loves you so much and now it's hitting him full force

Dating

♡ He confessed first, making sure it was perfect for you and him. The scenery had to be perfect for both you and him- if you're someone who hated being around people it was in a secluded place, if you were someone who preferred staying outside, it was outside. He wanted this to feel just as great as it felt for him

♡ When you accepted his confession, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and held you as close as possible, thanking you for giving him such happiness. You gave him even more life than he had just moments before

♡ He loves PDA, but if you don't he's fine with not giving it to you. But he will still have a hand on you somehow, whether it be hand holding or finding an excuse to lead you somewhere so he can hold your hand or the small of your back

♡ He loves using nicknames and he also loves recieving nicknames. Any nicknames are fine with him, even if they're satire ones like babygirl or male wife (he will most likely die if you address him as husband in any way however. It is his favorite above all else)

♡ If there is ever a moment where you're sad or hurt, he does everything he can to make you feel better. Usually it's watching comedies or just doing something you want to do, but he understands that sometimes you just want to be held and he will gladly do that for you

Dates

♡ They're usually always fancy and at restaurants that you both like. He saves up a lot of money specifically for these dates. He wants you to feel like royalty, and what better way to do that?

♡ If you don't like restaurant dates, he keeps that in mind. He then goes for dates at the zoo or the aquarium, ice cream dates, sweet and simple stuff like that. Anything that brings a smile on your face is enough to add 5 years to his life. He does everything he possibly can

♡ If you're not having fun at a date, he will quickly move locations. He has a backup plan to his backup plan to his back plan. He wants it to be perfect for you!

[mymegrokosmos]

"You good?"

Your head whipped around at the voice, the laughter warm in every word. He was smiling when you craned your head from where you knelt, struggling with the zipper on your backpack, to look at him. Of course he was. Jeong Yunho, class clown and unofficial prince of your whole cohort.

You snorted, rolling your eyes at the pretty man fiddling with the strap of his bag. "I'm fine. You can check off your quota of helping out damsels in distress for the day and find someone else to fulfill that requirement."

His expression shuttered at your harsh tone. The deadpan way you parroted the words like you were reading them off a script while your fingers worked furiously in an attempt to charm the zip unstuck. It was silent for a minute and you almost thought he'd left, only you hadn't heard any footsteps.

He was still there when you glanced up again, chewing on the end of one of the strings hanging perfectly from the talisman of truth hanging off the shoulder strap of the beat up messenger bag he wore slung over one broad shoulder.

"Are you always this mean?"

You shrugged.

"I'd say I understand why you have no friends, only that isn't true. You always have those two wolves hanging all over you. Your pack maybe? That would explain why they put up with you."

You sighed.  "Do you always speak every thought you have out loud? It's rather annoying. I'm trying to focus."

Instead of leaving like you hoped, because why on earth would you ever be so lucky, he knelt beside you instead. Talisman forgotten completely as he ducked his head to get a better look at what you were doing. He nudged your hands aside and with a few deft movements of his own he had your stubborn zipper sliding back into place in no time.

"You didn't have to make that look so easy."

He wiggled long fingers in a way that sparked something familiar in your brain. You knew those gestures. Or, you should know them, anyway. You recognized a sigil of smoothing and a charm of repair. You sighed. Why did he have to be good at all the subjects you shared?

"Thanks."

You didn't spare the man another glance as you stood, swinging your newly functional again bag over one shoulder. He sprang back up to his full height with a grace you usually only saw in shifters and you remembered he was also an athlete. Of course there wasn't anything the golden boy of year 9 couldn't do.

You suppressed another roll of your eyes, just barely, and glanced over at your desk to make sure you'd gotten everything. It wouldn't do to leave any of your things behind, not here. It would be easy for any of your classmates to read too many secrets into any notes or objects they found lingering around. You couldn't have that.

You turned to leave, narrowly avoiding bumping right into Yunho's sweater clad chest. You put a hand out to stop yourself colliding with him, hand landing right on the soft cheery yellow fabric, and quickly pulled away at the little electric zap that followed. He frowned at you. You didn't stop to explain, just pushing past and angling your hip so no more of your body brushed against his as you hurried out of the room.

"I'm Yunho by the way. If you even care to know."

You threw the steely haired man a look that you hoped conveyed your disdain. Something you weren't entirely sure you were feeling but he didn't have to know that. The faux flame lighting crackling overhead along the lecture hall ceiling gave the silver of his hair a blue tone you found oddly appealing. You blinked those thoughts away and shook your head to clear it.

"I know who you are Jeong."

"Good, then can I call you by your first name next time we meet like this?"

"There won't be a next time."

You'd have to make sure of it. You couldn't afford friends. None besides the two you couldn't shake anyway. You really couldn't afford any distractions. Yunho was a very very big distraction in the making. You didn't give him time to get any more words in. This was the first, and last, conversation with Jeong Yunho you'd ever have.

Or so you told yourself.

[parafic]

Mostly it's that I've been reading and absorbing fandom personalities for them (Izuna dramatic and showy, Hikaku The Sane One) for... however many years, and I'm trying to do something a bit different with their personalities, but those standard ones are still ingrained.

So for Izuna, what caught my attention is that apparently he's described in the data book as something that gets translated as 'peace-loving' or 'harmonious' (and probably other things, but those are the ones I've seen). Which is kind of a contrast to the very little we see of him, in which he seems very eager to fight and distrusting of peace.

It could just be that he's in favor of peace generally, but distrusts the Senju specifically and we just don't see his opinion on peace otherwise. But I think, combined with how Madara and the Uchiha fell apart without him, it's also reasonable (and to me, more interesting) to interpret that as a reference to someone who values/is a source of interpersonal harmony. Izuna is the one who notices and redirects a conversation before an argument starts, soothes ruffled feathers, listens to peoples' concerns and persuades them to give Madara's latest strategy a try, finds an excuse to have a celebration when people need to be cheered up, notices if a clan member is being excluded and figures out what's up and how to fix it. He keeps morale up and everyone working together.

But the flip side of that is someone who's really conflict averse (emotionally speaking), and to do all that effectively for a whole clan, he's constantly putting on different personas. So like, that common characterization where he's dramatic and demanding might be how he acts around Madara, because Madara likes having a baby brother, but he doesn't do it around anyone else. And he'll have a bunch of other different ways of acting for when he's around younger shinobi, older shinobi, various groups of elders, kids, parents, etc, based on what they expect of him/like him to be. (Everyone does this to an extent, but I'm thinking Izuna does it a lot more than most.)

And at the same time, when things upset him, he's likely to let them go because he doesn't want to start an argument, people would be upset if he asked them to stop, etc, and if he just ignores it then nobody's upset so no harm done, right? So the end result is an Izuna who's barely (if at all) more aware of his own emotions than Tobirama is, he just has a very different mask.

So from a writing perspective, that is a complicated character to write anyway, and it overlaps enough with the popular characterization I see that sometimes I'm not entirely sure which I'm writing. Also this is a weird and extreme situation that Izuna has no preestablished way of acting for, so in-story he's struggling to figure out how to act to begin with. So it's a lot to balance, basically.

Hikaku is a little simpler! The way I'm characterizing Izuna overlaps some with Hikaku's usual only sane man/The One Who Gets Things Done role, so I want to give Hikaku some other traits so that he doesn't feel redundant. I also think he deserves to get to be Uchiha dramatic sometimes too, but I don't want to just give him a copy of Madara's/Izuna's/Sasuke's usual personality.

So I'm aiming for him being quieter than they are, but without just being calm, and more willing to argue and criticize (or just snark) than Izuna usually will be. But he's also starting out in an extreme situation that has him very off kilter emotionally, so he wouldn't be acting exactly like himself anyway, so I'm trying to figure out like, his baseline personality, and also how that's going to be affected by what's going on at the same time, so it's kind of doing two steps at once. (And is part of why I've been using his POV so much; it helps me work all that out when I can just write out all his thoughts as I go.)

Honestly the tunnel visioning is probably most of what ADHD Tobirama will mean for this fic; it's more that I just looked at how I usually characterize him and went 'yeah that sounds like ADHD'. Though Hikaku mentioning that Tobirama is "even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration" is a bit more deliberate reference to Tobirama showing ADHD symptoms (since fidget toys are not exactly abundant in this setting, and he'd probably consider them too undignified to use himself anyway).

The sensing bloodline limit is all me! One of those headcanons that technically kind of contradicts canon a little but like. I prefer it. (Though @domoz is using a variant in the Hanahaki-adjacent AU!)

Basically the idea is that usually, a person's chakra system is like the circulatory system: it's more or less closed off from anything external, your body produces and uses it, but anything from outside is going through the stomach or lungs or something first.

But in the Senju, chakra is a little more permeable. It's a little more like, say, the water in a bay: it's distinct from the ocean but it's not cut off from the ocean by any means, and there's always some amount of flow back and forth.

So, because they're always having a little bit of chakra flow back and forth with the chakra around them (both natural and other Senjus' chakra), they get passive sensing. Which is not entirely as useful as it sounds; range is based largely on how much chakra a person has (though they can extend it or pull it back with conscious effort) but learning to distinguish chakra signatures and place their location is difficult and much rarer for someone to be good at. Hashirama for example technically has a bigger sensing range than Tobirama, but he can't distinguish signatures or estimate distance well, so it's not much use for him. (Though he will be able to tell that Tobirama is still alive while he's trapped on the island.)

All Senju (with this trait) do have the advantage of being able to feel when another chakra signature is present though, since basically no one else knows this is a sense to hide from. Senju can also read shifts in peoples' chakra the way that other people might read facial expressions, which again other people don't usually learn to control or hide, so the Senju get a nice edge there.

(In this headcanon the sensing jutsu, which Hikaku uses in this fic and is used in canon, was invented in the past to both give allies access to some of the same information the Senju had, and to cover up that what the Senju were doing was not a jutsu. Which is why both exist.)

Senju might also have a bit of an advantage at using elemental and/or sage jutsu, because their chakra is always a little bit bleeding back and forth with natural chakra, so it's more familiar to them. Not a huge advantage though.

The vulnerability is poison. Most poisons target the physical body and very few target chakra itself (with the exception of chakra suppressing poisons, which are more common). But when a Senju is hit by something that turns their chakra toxic, it will spread to every other Senju in their range, and then in all those Senjus' ranges, and....

So best case scenario an entire team gets wiped out. More likely it's several teams in the same area. Worst case scenario someone gets hit with something while Hashirama is alive, it spreads to his chakra, and from him it spreads to every other Senju with the same trait, and that's how the Senju clan disappears.

Tobirama escapes because he happened to be in his lab at the time, which is shielded against chakra going in or out, in case he accidentally invented something chakra toxic. And some Senju, presumably including Tsunade and Nawaki, just don't have the trait to begin with so they survive. But most of the clan falls over dead within about an hour, which Senju generations ago more or less saw coming, which is why they kept the bloodline so secret and tried to breed it out.

(Some non-Senju in allied clans that intermarried would probably also have had the trait and died along with the Senju too, but I have not planned anything detailed about that because that is the bad ending AU and I don't enjoy those.)

a lot more focused on the results of interaction than the often annoyingly intricate path to get there "correctly", except people put a lot of stock on the "correct" path of behavior and WILL react weirdly if you don't follow enough of it.

Yeah! Tobirama is very focused on efficiency and getting things done, and he thinks everyone else ought to be equally focused on practicalities, so he has no interest in wasting time on being indirect.

I do think he can be polite if he has to--he's a clan heir, he's going to get stuck doing politics and diplomacy to some extent, so he doesn't really get a choice about learning this, and he's the type to learn how to be excellent at it because it's important even if he hates it. (And he's aware of appearances, demonstrated by scolding Hashirama about dignity in public and such.) But getting him to use those skills when he's not in an explicitly diplomatic setting (or maybe in disguise) isn't likely.

(Which does again make him kind of the opposite of Izuna; Izuna is compulsively diplomatic, because he sees value in building rapport and connections with as many people as possible. Izuna is building a tightly-knit community while Tobirama runs a well-oiled machine.)

You're welcome, I'm glad you like the songbirds! If you haven't read it, you might like @denialcity's hanahaki AU, for adoration grow. Somewhere in there is a scene where Izuna sings for Tobirama and Tobirama discovers that music can make him Feel Things.

(I also have equivalent headcanons for the Senju and Uzumaki collective hobbies, but they're not musical.)

Sparring will lead to yet another culture clash, in which the Uchiha decide the Senju are insane and Tobirama is judgy (after he gets over being freaked out).

The Uchiha aren't having too difficult a time; Kagami isn't old enough to know most sharingan secrets, and Ruri is old enough to know what not to say. Plus there's a general politeness norm among shinobi of not asking about clan secrets when clans are interacting in a polite way, so all the kids generally know not to ask (and probably don't know too many secrets even if they were asked).

Tobirama is having a bit more difficult a time keeping Uzumaki seals hidden, because the Uchiha can copy any seal they see him make and that would be that. But again, the Uzumaki kids are mostly either too young to know seals or old enough to remember not to share them, so Tobirama mostly has to hide his own work. Which is a bit inconvenient, but he can just tell the Uchiha to leave so he can make a seal, and can sense whether anyone is close enough to watch him, so it's workable.

They also don't really care much about other clans' secrets. If a kid from one water country clan gives something away to a kid from another, that is not their problem and they have bigger things to worry about. Rescue your own kids next time if it bothers you. Aside from the Uzumaki the clans here are too distant to be allies to either the Senju or the Uchiha, so they have no obligation to care and are already doing these clans a huge favor by rescuing their kids, keeping them alive, and eventually returning them.

Thank you! The jutsu definition headcanon is mostly Domoz's, although I did adopt it immediately.

And there actually aren't really secrets to worry about in that case! The Uchiha know that if a Senju uses a jutsu, that Senju will probably also know several 'related' jutsu; that's not something the Senju could or have attempted to hide. It's basically a semantic difference; the Senju label something on jutsu and the Uchiha label it a cluster of related jutsu, but everyone's still aware that the options exist.

Izuna specifically has been expecting Tobirama to show up with a 'new' water dragon jutsu for some time, so his reaction is more along the lines of 'of COURSE you can do this now'. Though he WILL be annoyed at Tobirama insisting that they're all one jutsu. Izuna takes pride in how many jutsu Tobirama has invented to fight him with, stop trying to ruin his score!

(It will probably come up very late, though; the most likely prompt for this is Tobirama being introduced to the Uchiha jutsu library, and that is a post-relationship thing motivated maybe by Izuna and Hikaku innocently trying to give him a gift and possibly by hopes of interesting him in the sex jutsu section.)

Tobirama has at minimum collected some hints about Uchiha organization! He's trying to figure out exactly how hierarchy works between Izuna and Hikaku, and who Hikaku is that he seems to sometimes have equal authority to Izuna.

The Senju have basically one hierarchy: Hashirama at the top, Tobirama second, and everyone in charge of various things they've delegated answering to them. War and missions are all built into the same system, and shinobi are sent where their talents are needed, because the down side to having a wide variety of talents is that you often only have one or two people that can do any specific thing. So a Senju who's good at sneaking in and stealing things, for example, will be sent to steal the enemies' battle plans and that valuable vase some lord wants but can't buy.

The Uchiha basically all learn the same style of fighting, the same types of jutsu, etc; obviously there's some variety but nothing compared to the Senju. They also might just have more people in general. So they have basically two hierarchies; the war/battle shinobi (who are led by Madara and Izuna) and the mission shinobi (who Hikaku is in charge of). The two operate in parallel, and shinobi generally only are part of one, not both (other than kids/young shinobi still figuring out where they fit).

(This could also have gone the other way around, and had the clan head running missions primarily and someone else handling the war. But uh, Madara and Izuna are both very war-oriented. In other generations it's been different.)

As a result of that, since they're on a mission, Hikaku is actually officially in charge here. But Izuna is the clan heir (and functional co-clan head) in addition to co-head of the war, so Hikaku is used to deferring to him and Izuna is used to being in charge, and Tobirama's presence is another argument for Izuna to take the lead because Hikaku has no personal experience with Tobirama. So Hikaku and Izuna are kind of unclear on who's in charge here, which is fine because they trust and respect each other and agree on their goals.

So that's what was going on when they're trying to plan how to attack, and Izuna says he's outvoted and makes Hikaku do the negotiating instead; if Izuna was actually in charge of the mission he couldn't be outvoted. And Tobirama doesn't know exactly what's up there but he's sure something is, so he's Observing. (And also why he asked about whether Izuna would follow the plan he and Hikaku made; he expects Izuna to outrank Hikaku the same way Tobirama would outrank any teammates he had on a mission, and Tobirama wouldn’t necessarily be obligated to keep an agreement/follow a plan any other Senju made, so he thinks it’s weird and suspicious that Hikaku is making the plans instead of Izuna.)

He was also fishing for information during the "you deserve to suffer slightly less than bloodline thieves" exchange; he's trying to figure out Izuna's opinions on peace/alliance, since that's a thing Hashirama wants.

(But also yes, he feels very bad about giving away the healing jutsu thing and will try to apologize to Hashirama about it when he gets the chance.)

That works really well for the limits on Hiraishin! It did always seem odd to me that two unrelated people could use it but no one else. (Though for Typhoon Island it's just not invented yet, otherwise Tobirama could teleport off the island and we wouldn't have weeks of pining to inflict on them all.)

...are you trying to show off for the pretty guys, Tobira? >__>

XD Not quite yet! (I mean, he might have been trying with the first fish, but that was general pride + "see I am a Useful Ally, now how about we stop this whole 'war' thing".) With the second fish he's just very sneakily being a little shit, because he thinks them freaking out over An Ordinary Fish is funny. (And unimpressive. But he can judge them AND laugh at them just fine.)

(He won't admit it. But this is the Tobirama version of a prank.)

You're welcome, and thank you! I'm really enjoying getting to talk about all this.

@starstuffduster You are SO right about needing distractions, unfortunately I am working overtime so it will be even later than usual before I can write

(Do send me lots of asks though! I'm off tomorrow so I can write plenty then)

In the meantime, have a couple of incomplete later scenes from Typhoon Island (which will probably get rewritten but they're fun for now)

Hikaku finds Tobirama sitting under the ledge, where the rain is blocked but some light still filters in.  His eyes are closed, and his face is perfectly blank as he traces ink blindly over his face and throat.  A seal, clearly, though what it’s meant to do, Hikaku can’t imagine.

Tobirama is too skilled not to have noticed him, even rapidly bouncing his heel against the floor the way he seems to do when deep in concentration.  How Tobirama managed to train his skills so that he is always aware of the people near him, but has missed sunrise, sunset, food placed beside him, and being rained on, all in the few weeks they’ve been here, Hikaku still hasn’t figured out.  But a surprised shinobi reacts violently, and Tobirama is no exception, as proven by the times a sudden movement has startled him.

So Hikaku knows Tobirama is ignoring him for several minutes.  As Tobirama is currently placing the most intricate seal Hikaku has ever seen on his own face, and doing it blindly, that’s more than reasonable.

Tobirama stops abruptly, his heel landing sharply on the stone.  Hikaku doesn’t glimpse the handseal that pulls rain into a bubble over Tobirama.  The bubble bursts and splashes over Tobirama’s face, blurring most of the seal and drawing the ink in distracting trails down his throat.

Hikaku sets that aside for later.  “Difficulties with the seal?” he asks.

“Obviously,” Tobirama says shortly.  He wipes some of the water off of his throat, smearing the sealwork there further.

Hikaku still doesn’t know whether Tobirama is aware of his own rudeness.  He has learned that ignoring it is usually enough to end it.  “Would a mirror help?”

Hikaku doesn’t have a mirror, and neither does Izuna.  But they could probably work out something adequately reflective, if the seal is important.

“Hmm.  Unlikely,” Tobirama decides.  He unfolds from the rock he was sitting on and starts back toward the main cavern, and he’s still somehow taller than Hikaku remembers.  “The seal is meant to be used in groups, applied to each other.  The difficulty is in applying it backwards.  Seeing it would likely be a distraction.”

Hikaku will never comprehend the Senju mind.  “What sort of seal is it?”

Tobirama hums.  It takes several seconds for him to answer, and they get close enough for Izuna’s voice to reach them, slightly distorted, singing a children’s training song.  Several of the children have joined in, with a much larger range in skill than Hikaku expected children so old to have.

Mostly in the direction of less skill.  Do other clans teach their children nothing except to fight?

“It is a snorkeling seal,” Tobirama says.  “By drawing on the user’s chakra, it draws air from the surface into their lungs, and allows them to remain under water indefinitely.”

An incredibly useful seal, then.  It would be a deeply concerning one as well, except that most of its uses are pointless in Fire Country.  Fire Country has many streams and creeks, but even the Nakano, which is the largest river in the country, is only rarely deep enough for a person to truly hide in its depths.  Mostly, a submerged shinobi would only look like a fool, trying to hide a few feet below the surface of clear water.

But in a place like Water Country, much less these Whirlpool islands… Hikaku is glad that the Uchiha so rarely venture outside of Fire Country.

Still, it gives him an idea.  “If it is not given chakra, does it do anything?”

“No.”

“So it’s safe?”

The question earns a quick flick of Tobirama’s eyes in his direction, before they return to the tunnel ahead.  “Children use it.”

“If you were to draw it on me, then,” Hikaku says, and even having concluded there would be no danger, his heart rate picks up, “Izuna could watch, and draw it on you.”

Tobirama pauses, a fractional delay in his steps as he glances in Hikaku’s direction again, this time longer, almost actually looking.  But he shakes his head.  “It is an Uzumaki seal.”

“I have not yet found a limit on the complexity of what the sharingan can copy,” Hikaku says.

“The Uzumaki are protective of their secrets.”

Ah.  A different issue than Hikaku assumed.  The Uzumaki are Senju allies, but it’s not a seal for war.  “Is it that valuable?  I can’t see it being used often in Fire Country.  I’ve never seen a river or lake large enough to hide in.”

“Fire Country doesn’t have lakes; we only have ponds,” Tobirama says, as if reciting the opinion.  “Every seal is valuable.  If not for its own effect, then for what it will teach about sealing.”

“I see.”

Izuna stops singing the moment they reach the cavern, and most of the children break off after him, uncoordinated.  Kagami continues alone, his voice clear until he finishes the verse.

“Izuna-san is teaching us Uchiha music!” [Uzukid] announces.  Izuna’s face goes strained.

“Is it very similar to Uzumaki music?” Tobirama asks, apparently interested, which sets all the kids off.  Uchiha music isn’t much like Uzumaki music at all; the [idk water bloodline] have some similar music but it’s not [waterkid]’s favorite; the Hyuuga have the same song, with only a few different words.  Tobirama listens with solemn interest.

As soon as every child has shared their comparisons, Tobirama focuses on [Uzutween].  “[Uzutween], are you familiar with the snorkeling seal?”

She nods, looking slightly confused by the question.

“Good,” Tobirama says.  “Come with me; I am going to use it to go fishing, and I am not able to apply it to myself.”

--

“Look!  Abalone!”

[Uzukid] is grinning when Hikaku glances over, holding up a palm-length, brown shell with six holes in a line and oddly triangular spots.  She, of course, is looking at Tobirama, who pauses in his demonstration of prying mussels off the rocks to seriously examine the shell she hands over.

“Very good,” Tobirama says, and hands the shell back to her.  “Your family works with abalone, don’t they?”

“Yeah!”

Tobirama nods again, and turns to include the other children in his explanation.  “We likely won’t find many abalone here, but they’re valuable and harmless, so collect any that you see.  [Uzukid], would you like to explain how to identify them?”

“Yeah!”

The rest of the kids cluster around and [Uzukid] holds up the shell, pointing out the shape, colors, and shiny interior.  The Uzumaki eat the snails, and make the shells into all kinds of jewelry and decoration.

Tobirama listens, but his eyes keep sliding away, scanning the pool and the area nearby.  Izuna glances over, sharingan flicking on to catch the image of the abalone’s shell, and then goes back to hunting through a pool closer to the water.  Hikaku listens while he keeps prying mussels off of stone and tossing them up the beach toward dry land.

The kids spread out again, now mostly ignoring the abundant mussels as they stick their faces in the water and peer under rocks in search of abalone.  [Uzukid] turns rocks over a little more strategically, and keeps chattering.  “An’ when you grind the shells up really good, you mix ‘em in with ink and make star seals!  That’s what my family does, for the whole village!”

“What are star seals, [Uzukid]?” Tobirama asks.

“You’ve seen them!  On the roofs!”

“I have, but not everyone here has,” Tobirama says.  “Kagami, do you know what star seals are?”

“Not yet!” Kagami chirps.

“They’re sparkly!  And bright!”  [Uzukid] gestures, hands flying out in a burst of implied light.  “We put ‘em on the edges of the roofs so the old shinobi don’t fall at night!”

[Uzukid]’s descriptions make it sound as if every day is a festival in Uzushio.  It’s a shame, Hikaku thinks, that he won’t get to see it.  But the Uzumaki have been the Senju’s allies almost as long as the Uchiha have been their enemies.  Hikaku will no more be allowed to see Uzushio than Tobirama’s bedroom.

“What if they’re too bright?” Kagami asks.

“They’re not!” [Uzukid] declares indignantly.  “They’re star seals, not… not sea-glare seals, or something!”

Kagami nods seriously.

“Seals that create a bright light as their primary effect are called flash seals,” Tobirama says.

“Yeah!  They’re not flash seals!”

“But flash seals are one of the primary types of seal which Uchiha encounter,” Tobirama says.  “So it’s reasonable for Kagami to think of them.”

“And fire seals,” Kagami adds.

“Explosive tags,” Tobirama corrects.

“Izuna-sama hates those,” Kagami shares.  “He says fire’s ours so it’s not fair Senju can fake it without learning real jutsu.”

Tobirama smirks, a flicker at the corner of his mouth that vanishes before he raises his voice enough to make it carry.  “Well, next time he says that, you may tell him that Senju use fire jutsu, too; he just hasn’t seen.  And he should know better than to make assumptions like that.”

Kagami grins and nods.  A few other children giggle.

Izuna looks thoroughly annoyed, but he turns away instead of saying anything.  He’ll have plenty to say later, Hikaku is sure, once Tobirama and the kids are out of hearing, but for now he tosses his hair back and peers deliberately into the water.

“Are there lots of kinds of seals, Senju-sensei?” Kagami asks.

“More than I can list at once,” Tobirama says.  “Seals are even more varied than jutsu, only less commonly used.  Now, how many mussels have you found?”

The Uchiha are collectors of jutsu.  Every jutsu that any Uchiha has seen since the beginning of the clan is recorded, both in written form and in memories passed down across the generations.  Many of those jutsu are useless—there are dozens of campfire-lighting jutsu, invented by different clans in different countries and different generations, and the Uchiha only need one.  But they are kept anyway, for any who want to study jutsu creation, or in case an Uchiha needs to disguise themselves as a member of another clan.

Among those jutsu are thousands that have no use at all in war.  Jutsu to make food more flavorful, to shape wood and metal and stone with greater precision than a handheld tool, to send messages, to embellish dance, to amplify music or sensation.  Most Uchiha learn a handful of them.  Jutsu for singing and sex are the most popular, and those that are useful with various crafts.  Hikaku has at least glanced through most sections of the library, looking for interesting options.  Each recorded jutsu also records the source, and every Senju jutsu Hikaku has ever seen is for war.  Hikaku used to be sure that meant the Senju simply didn’t know or use jutsu for anything other than battle, sabotage, and the like.

But once this season is over he’s going to have to go home and add an entire new section to the library for jutsu that heal.  Not merely by shaping a needle out of a broken blade or pulling gravel out of wounds, but actively.  It’s still technically for war, but it’s an entire category of jutsu that the Uchiha didn’t even know were possible, which the Senju seem to have been using for generations, the way Tobirama acted about it.

So maybe, being a Senju, Tobirama doesn’t know the full variety of uses jutsu can have.  Or maybe the Senju are very good at keeping secrets, and seals can do things Hikaku hasn’t even imagined.

It really is a shame that he’ll never see the Uzumaki compound.

Hikaku pries the last mussel worth eating off the rocks, tosses it into the pile with the rest, and straightens.  The children are enthusiastic, but very distracted by all the unfamiliar creatures in the pools, and Tobirama is similarly distracted by watching and teaching them all.

Hikaku and Izuna, then, will have to do most of the foraging.  Which isn’t worrying, really; Hikaku is no longer concerned about starving while they’re trapped on this island.  But he’d rather not eat every meal from the same single fish for a week again, nor would he like to see what bigger fish Tobirama could possibly find. 

[this is followed by Hikaku picking up a blue ringed octopus, and Tobirama being Totally Rational And Calm And Not Panicking in response. As he always is, of course]

[godsworstson]

love calling my mutuals' faves "their man" as if their man isn't a 50 something year old married man

[cubbihue]

Does Mr. Turner like rubbing his “son’s” successful career in Dinkleberg’s face??

He does! He brags about Timmy's success to every person within the neighborhood's vicinity. Mr. Turner loves how successful his son is! It really secures his reputation at the neighborhood HOA meetings they host at their house.

Timmy's worked very hard to gain more successes than failures. The more successful he is, the greater his family's social standing!! And the less he gets to overhear his dad ranting to the neighborhood about his failures.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[moeblob]

So does he, Gallagher.

[bakughosts]

I think something that’s incredibly unique to loving bakugou is that even with god awful trust issues, you can always be sure that he loves you and would never cheat on you. he just wouldn’t have pursued you if he was gonna do something like that. why would he waste his time doing that dumb shit?

and if he liked you enough to pursue you—that’s it, my guy. he’s Into You. you are the desktop wallpaper of his brain. you are the person he wants to tell the odd things he overheard on the metro that morning. you are the first thing that comes to mind if he deflects a blow a little too slowly when he’s in the field. and if you by some chance don’t end up with him (spoiler: if you’ve put up with him to the extent that he cares for you, then you’ve seen enough of the man beneath the curated image that there’s no way you aren’t already in love with him or at least halfway there), then he will absolutely be so hung up over you for the next two-to-five years that he won’t look at another person with even a Shred of interest

his brain is just wired so Incorrectly compared to the way other people experience love and desire but that’s one of the things about him that makes him so extremely irresistible. I want to eat him like a slice of complimentary honey-wheat bread at an outback steakhouse

[jamietwat]

Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too