#besides pls entertain me tumblr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lostheretics · 2 years ago

Text

PLOT TWIST (4)

▸ chapter 4; the art of learning and overthinking

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner's luck, but will that be enough for the things you'll be facing soon?

✵ notes : 8k-ish. wow. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox (here). also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT.

☒ warnings: smut... like a wholeass breeding kink i laid it all there, once more. marriage talk, maybe a swear word(s) here and there, do remind me if i missed anything

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

"what's happening?"

"i think they're fighting."

"over what?"

"dunno."

"guys, why are you standing like that?"

"like what?"

"like clearly, fucking eavesdropping. who—"

"—ssshh! they're at it again. can you hear what he said to her?"

"not a single word."

seven men stood in front of hongjoong's office with their ears flat against the door, hoping they could get a hint of anything that happened inside. however nothing was heard, no clear words exchanged between you and hongjoong got out of the door, courtesy of his soundproof room. that was besides from hongjoong's screams alongside your own. your two voices went against each other, each time getting louder and louder.

hongjoong was livid upon your actions before.

yet you stood your ground still.

"—we just had this opportunity, y/n, and the one time, the one fucking time i trusted you to stand under the light, you fucking threw everything that we worked hard for away just like that!" he screamed, clearly driven by anger upon your actions back at the lee mansion. to the lee juyeon.

"i threw no one and nothing! i did what i was supposed to do, i was trying to save ateez!" you screamed back defending yourself.

to your words he almost laughed maniacally. ”save ateez? by putting us in jeopardy?”

closing your eyes, you sighed. the atmosphere was tense between you and hongjoong, and it was not something that you imagined would happen in the first months of officially being a part of ateez. as a part of ateez, of course it was your goal to make ateez better and powerful. yet hongjoong couldn’t seem to see it from your point of view.

exasperatedly, you sighed. ”have some trust in me. am i not a part of ateez?"

"precisely.”

he pressed, before continuing. “because you're a part of ateez, y/n, that's precisely why you should be more careful! anything that's gonna happen to you, gonna happen to us and it's all on you. you risk not only your life or mine, but our brothers. your husband. our allies. everyone that worked under and with us, can't you see it?"

"did i not secure our place in the gala? on my first night introduced to the underworld?"

hongjoong was immediately silenced. on that note, you were right. you secured ateez’ place in the gala.

on a special note, that is.

“hongjoong?”

turning to juyeon, hongjoong stuttered his words out, “mr. lee, please forgive y/n’s boldness, she only worked in the shadow before a-and never ha-“

“make sure you all come to my gala. the whole week, i expect you all to be there. i’ll introduce you to some of my friends.” juyeon cut his words. looking back, hongjoong caught juyeon’s eyes wandering to the corner where he just had his conversations with you, but to no avail when he didn’t caught you in his line of sight.

juyeon drew a small smile which surprised hongjoong, before looking back to him, “she’s intriguing. i should have more time to know her, and i insist it.” he then straightened his hand out for hongjoong to take,

“i should hope to see ateez more in the future.”

“what did you two talk about?”

it was a question, but you know hongjoong would demand an answer from you.

a shadow brought into the light, and not even in one night, was able to reach a place even hongjoong has never reached before. a higher league. anyone in their right mind would question it the way hongjoong did.

“what did he say to you?” you countered.

“don’t answer a question with another, and i asked first.”

with the staring contest the both of you were having and hongjoong’s stubborness, you know you wouldn’t win against your captain.

you sighed, “i just said something about admiring his father’s work, that he was a winner, then he just said i fascinate him and made sure i came to the gala. that’s all, i promise.” you explained.

“joong, i don’t know what else to say but i just wish you could see that i’m on your side. i want ateez to win, the way you want it. nothing else.”

silence took over as hongjoong’s thoughts done the same to his head.

"okay." he sighed after a few moments. "but i'm warning you, y/n. no more bold moves that i don't know of. behave." he pressed. he moved towards his table and sat down.

"you're dismissed."

and so you left the room.

it takes time.

it takes time, was the sentence you say to yourself repeatedly on daily basis. ever since you got tangled with ateez, married to one of its member. ever since you knew hongjoong and worked your hardest for his trust. that it would take time for hongjoong to fully trust you.

your intentions haven't faded still.

midnight strikes. the kitchen was cold and empty. sitting on the island, the bourbon in your hand had melted the ice as you hold it, just staring at it blankly. you chugged it in one go and filled your cup once again. a sigh slipped through your lips unconsciously.

were you too much?

the events that happened the last weeks played in your mind, as you go through it one by one, moment by moment, correcting yourself in your mind.

the first time hongjoong unofficially accepted you into ateez.

babel.

lee juyeon and the conversation you had.

it most definitely was the unexpected outcome, how you crossed the boundary, how, weirdly enough, he was intrigued by you instead of angered by your statements. how you secured ateez's place in the gala all because of he insisted you'd be there. based on that thoughts alone, you couldn't help but wonder what will happen at the gala soon.

and that man in the garden, with his piercing brown eyes.

strikingly handsome man.

it was quite an embarrassing scene, yet all through it he only showed his concerns. even after he picked you up and moved you to a quiet hall. even after you just said a quick thank you and hurriedly ran away from him, not wanting to cause another scene any further.

you didn't get to know his name.

not that you needed it, it was just for formality. he saved you, after all.

raising your cup, you sipped your bourbon again. you were just reaching the bottle to pour another, when wooyoung's voice halted you. "how many have you had?"

turning your head, you saw him standing near the arch with a disapproving look on his face.

"five... this would've been the sixth," you answered truthfully, chuckling to ease the air.

"you know i hate it when you drink. i don't want you to bring back that awful drinking habit of yours." he scowled. "i don't want you to get sick, baby. you know that, right?"

by bad habit, he might be referring to your habit of drinking those poisons like water. you'd drink when you're happy. when you're sad. when you got problems. for lunch, for dinner. any time you could drink you'd drink, and it had became a part of your life so much that you didn't think much of it. though you always stay sober instead of drunk.

and wooyoung hated it so much he cut off all access to alcohol after the first few months of becoming your boyfriend. it was a weird feeling, the withdrawal you had. yet you weren't being fussy about it, only coming back to alcohol on certain occasion like parties, dinner, and now, just casually thinking of life on a slightly deeper level.

you smiled, "you're worried. i understand." you put down your cup on the sink, and put away the bottle back on its rack. you sat back on the chair as wooyoung walked towards you. he positioned himself between your thighs. your hands instinctively circled his neck, as he caressed your thighs softly. a peck landed on your chin.

"a penny for your thoughts?"

the dreading question left his lips. the one question which has no definite answer, at least for the night. too much thing going around in your head with little to no way to explain it. you shook your head, only answering to him with that smile from before.

"was it hongjoong hyung? what did you guys talk about? he seemed mad." he urged still.

"you asked as if it was bad and you were ready to land a punch on him."

"that's because i might."

chuckling, you circled your hands tightly around him, assuring him. "i'm okay. we're okay. he's just concerned and he voiced it all so well. as he's supposed to do, as our captain." you assured him, adding a peck on his cheek to secure your statement. "don't worry, woo. it was just about the gala."

"you sure?"

"yeah."

"then there's no reason for you to stay up late anymore..." he pulled on your waist, "come to bed then? i hate sleeping without you." he whined.

he offered you his hand, which you took happily. hand in hand the both of you walked towards your room, ending the night. safely tucked underneath the warm blanket, protected by the arms of none other than your lovely husband.

there were papers scattered around the wooden table, the computer screen was on but untouched, and a half cup of coffee that turned cold by then.

messy table, messy head they say.

yet it was far from how juyeon looked standing by his windowsill. his shirt were still unchanged from last morning, but still fits him well with no crinkles. his tie was loose, with his sleeves rolled up. the clock on his table was the only reminder the day had changed and the sun will soon be up, yet there he was still.

lacking sleep and deep in his thoughts.

a knock arrived on his office door yet he didn't bother to look up, only doing so when his butler called his name.

"sir juyeon," he called.

breaking his train of thoughts, juyeon looked to the elderly man standing near his desk. "ah, park jipsa*."

"sir, the sun is almost up and you haven't had any sleep. you're not doing any of your job either. you're risking your health, sir." the elderly butler reminded him, which juyeon only replied with a chuckle.

"you sound like you actually care about me." he mused with a chuckle, not forgetting to give him a side look.

"that's because it's my job, sir. to make sure the lee family line goes on. it's always been a park's job to make sure of it, since years ago and for years to come," he countered back, face straight yet his eyes still hold a hard look in them.

"not to mention it was your father's dying wish for me to keep you safe."

ah, the lee minhyuk. dearest father. melancholy hit him, juyeon gazed to the purplish orange sky sitting outside his window. the sun was starting to show itself, welcoming itself to the morning.

"never thought i'd be here without him." juyeon murmured to himself.

"he loved you so much he designed everything through and through, just for you to be here,"

that old man had served the lee family since the time of juyeon's grandfather's reign. he had served lee jiyoung until her downfall, served lee minhyuk until his death, and finally lee juyeon himself. for those years, nothing about the man ever changed.

his tongue still sharp as ever,

and his loyalty remained strong as ever.

nothing but truth came out of his mouth. lee minhyuk was one of the fiercest man to ever live; despite his ways of usurping and his infamous act in backstabbing his own family. the world might remember him as a hero, as a villain, but to juyeon he was simply a loving father. loving enough to fulfill juyeon's need as a child even after his mother's death.

to put everything in, he simply missed his father.

juyeon blinked a tear away, sighing before he brought back himself to reality. "you got the thing i asked for?"

"yes sir." park jipsa took out a folder and moved forward, handing it to juyeon. juyeon took it from him, opening the folder himself and screened through its pages.

"jung y/n was an orphan. her lineage is unknown at all, our investigator asked around the orphanage and said she was just dropped there and have been there since she was a baby. the orphanage had a funding program which enabled people to fund for the children there, if they wish to help but not to adopt. that funding helped jung y/n to go to school and after that, she got a scholarship to pursue further education abroad,” the butler explained, before adding, "not much is found about her life there. after that she just went back here and took small jobs. she met ateez and jung wooyoung, courtesy of the dirty job her boss had with ateez. the rest are history, they got married and here they were."

juyeon hummed. "nothing else?"

"nothing else. nothing related to you nor the mafia world,” he answered. "may i ask who she is to you, sir? for you to look about her this way."

"that's what i'm trying to find out too, park jipsa." he grinned, closing the folder. "i just found her, and she's... enticing. i can't quite put it in words yet. like i've known her before. but alas, we haven't. but i’ll make sure we do.”

"ah, and that thing i requested?" juyeon asked once again.

his butler nodded, "it's almost ready and will be sent first thing after it's done."

juyeon let out a satisfied hum. standing up, he stretched a bit before retreating from his office.

"i'll be resting the whole day. don't bother cleaning up my desk. i'll be available for work tomorrow." he announced as he walked out.

the butler nodded and bowed.

"as you wish, sir."

the lee family gala week only started a few days after chuseok. with a few days off, ateez decided that they'd visit a family for the holiday. that family happened to be wooyoung's only remaining relative; his father who lived around the rural area of the town.

it's not like the rest of the members didn't have a family. however, wooyoung's father was the only elderly figure that aligned with ateez, as in being in underworld. he was a part of a small gang who understood a little of the underworld, only stopping when he had wooyoung. some said he sort of trained wooyoung to get into the underworld. the rest of ateez's relative aren't much involved; hence the bond was better with wooyoung's father.

jung ilwoo, but he was more famous as just mr. jung.

the air in the countryside sure was different from the one in the city. along the fresh air the smell of barbecued beef filled your nose. the members were preparing for dinner behind you, going back and forth.

"food's almost ready!" seonghwa shouted, and people quickly gathered around, finishing their tasks faster.

"guys, where's wooyoung?" you asked when you couldn't found him within the crowd.

"try the kitchen. he was in charge of making songpyeon." one of them quipped.

answering a quick okay, you walked into the house. you called upon your husband by his name, which he loudly answered back, telling you of his whereabouts.

there you found him, sitting in the kitchen comfortably, skillfully molding the colorful songpyeons by hand.

"woo, come on, dinner's almost ready,"

"hold on," he didn't even spare you a glance, "i'm trying to make the songpyeons as pretty as possible." he remarked while proudly showing you one of the songpyeons he made.

you tsked him. "they're gonna end up ruined in our stomach anyways."

your nonchalantness had him scowling. "it's holidays, we deserve something pretty. and they say if you can make pretty songpyeons, you'll make pretty babies." he insisted.

"you seemed to be interested in babies a lot these days." you noted, with a lighthearted chuckle.

but it didn't set a reaction you expected out of wooyoung. rather than giving you another witty remarks or anything light to the moment like he always did, he stopped a while, stunned, before lowering his head, consumed by deep thoughts in his head. that chuckle and smile on your face was quickly wiped out as you reach for him.

"woo?" you called, nudging him by his shoulders lightly with your fingers.

he raised his hand, grazing your fingers before taking it in his own palm. he took a moment of silence while holding your hand, tracing every marks in there.

"i've been thinking about making a family of our own. it's been a while," he blurted out.

"i know. san told me," your other hand went up to his cheek, caressing him softly. "why haven't you told me this face to face?" you asked him.

"i dropped hints. like a lot." he jokingly said. "but i guess anyone would take it as a joke as usual—"

"you're not a joke, never."

"—point is i was just afraid, i guess." he finished nervously.

"of what?"

"that maybe you don't want kids. that maybe we'd be bad parents, or worse, if i wasn't good enough to become a dad, considering my... line of work. and many more reason." he explained, eyes still looking down at his own feet.

there's only one jung wooyoung.

however the times you've spent with each other had made you both realize that there are many things you don't know about each other. like how hard it was for wooyoung to voice out his thoughts, preferring acts than words. as a capo he was more used to receiving commands, listening, doing things and getting them done, despite being able to have thoughts of his own and proving it more than once. having lived with it longer than he was with you, it became something that stays with him. he might be mouthy and loud when he was clingy or showing his affections to you and others, but not when it comes to himself.

i’m okay, it’s nothing much. those were the words that most likely would came out of his mouth. all those times when he came home bruised all over his body, or even bleeding. when he could barely move without wincing in every step he took, clearly in pain. when he came out of hongjoong’s office with his head down, always the same answer.

it took you hours, even days to extract it out of him. and you’d never forget to appreciate him when he finally came clean about his problems.

“woo, look at me.” you spoke softly, pulling up his chin softly to stare into his eyes. “i’m your wife, you’re my husband. remember? we made a vow.” which he nodded.

“i understand that you might need time to speak up, but i don’t want us to keep anything from each other. especially things regarding our marriage, our family.” you explained.

“and about that,” you quipped, “i’m not opposed to it. but i want us to be more ready instead of just being reckless.”

upon your words, a hopeful smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned crescent along with it. “really?” he asked, making sure which you answer with a nod. “does that mean we can start trying and preparing?”

you feigned a gasp, “i thought you’ve been trying since forever?”

you both laughed to it. the moment was soon broken by a shout from outside, loudly calling for dinner. "c'mon, let's not make others wait."

hollers welcomed you when you and wooyoung walked out of the house, joining the rest on the veranda for dinner.

“i hope you didn’t taint the kitchen. your dad cooks and eat there, y’know.” yeosang teased, eliciting laughs from others.

“how about i taint your ears, shithead?” wooyoung taunted back menacingly, “i’ll gladly move next to your room, if that’s what you want.” he ended. the smile quickly wiped out of yeosang’s face as it turned pale with the imagination of restless nights caused by your nightly acts next to his room. and with wooyoung's stamina? it'd be miracle to have a 3 hours quiet time.

after all, that's why you both got your own quarters, far from others' in the mansion.

“i’d rather have my ears stabbed then.” he deadpanned.

dinner started, along with chatters shared between the boys and wooyoung's father. though the old man preferred to answer shortly, being a quiet person he was.

you didn't talk much with him, with how he answered so shortly. yet you still care for him, constantly reminding wooyoung to come home once in a while or bringing things for his father.

"woo, aren't we gonna make offerings with the songpyeon and everything?" you quipped. dinner was done, you and wooyoung were in charge of washing dishes.

wooyoung raised his eyebrows and returned a loud, "huh? what offerings?"

"to your ancestors? it's a part of the holiday too, right?" you asked.

after thinking for a while, he let out a loud 'ah'. "my dad stopped doing that when i was like... ten? i don't know." he answered nonchalantly. "besides, my dad said my grandpa and grandma passed a long time ago, when he was younger. he kinda decided it's way past the time."

"not even to your mom?"

the question left him stunned for a while.

"right... she's dead. i don't know a thing about her though."

"i'm sorry, love." you offered an sympathetic smile. "was she bad, did she neglect you or something?"

he shrugged, "i don't know. dad never really talked about her, he was kinda dismissive about it. just said that she died not long after i was born."

he inhaled, then exhaled, seemingly deep in thoughts before speaking again. "but i don't think she's bad at all." he stated. "one time when i came home from school, i think i was around eleven or twelve... he set up an offering table. there were no photos, no name or anything. i asked him who it was for, and he said it was for my mom. he said it was an... important time and she would want to be remembered. so we prayed for her. and i asked one more time about her to my dad."

"what did he say?"

"he just said he believed that my mom would've loved me. it's just that fate didn't really allow us to be together. sounds cliche as fuck and i don't really get it even now. but i decide to believe that she did love me. it's easier that way too. i never asked much after that."

"so you never know anything about her? at all?" you queried, invested in his back story.

stopping his movement in wiping the plates, he leaned back and furrowed his brows, deeply thinking. then he answered,

"dad said my eyes were like hers, and she gave me my name. he also said she was brave and i took after her, just in a reckless way."

that conversation ended with laughs escaping from both of your mouths. and so did the night.

midnight passed, and you were sure everyone was fast asleep when you moved to the living room.

the songpyeons you had spared before were placed neatly on a plate, along with some other offerings like fruits. there were a bowl of rice and a soup. lighting the candles, you sat down in front of the table.

you've decided to pay a little respect for wooyoung's mother, if he and his father decided not to.

you thanked mrs. jung for bringing wooyoung to where he is now; as your loved one, while wondering what would she be like if she were still here. what would she see from you, and many things. you prayed that wherever she is now she'll do well, promising you'll do your best to be wooyoung's wife.

he might be a pain in the ass sometimes but thank you, he's the sweetness everyone needed in this bitter life.

you were just sitting comfortably in the silence when you heard someone clearing their throat just behind you. turning your back, your eyes found mr. jung standing there, just staring at you blankly.

"abeoji*..." you stuttered like a deer caught in the headlight, quickly standing up. awkwardness filled in, you knew you weren't wrong for doing it, but it feels unfair to do it yourself when wooyoung and his father didn't even do so. despite being in laws with mr. jung, you still feel like a stranger in the household.

he raised his hand calmly, dismissing the awkwardness. then he smiled at you. he took a closer look to the offering table you made for mrs. jung.

he then just stared at it longingly.

not a single word slipped out of your lips when he observed you and your midnight activity. he just sighed again, retreating.

"you really are something else." he chuckled with his deep voice.

"i'm sorry if this offended you." you apologized, but he just shook his head.

"you're doing something nice, how am i offended?" he said, "i trust she'll be at ease... now that you're here."

he then proceeded to speak more. "always a surprise, something else she was. i wish she could've seen wooyoung and how he grew up, what kind of man he will grown into."

"i'm sure she would've been so proud oof wooyoung and you. for raising him to the man he is today. i believe she'd do anything for you if she could." you said soothingly.

"hmm, it shows." he quipped. “for everything to fall this way, i can see why she chose…“ he stopped himself, staring at you for a while, before moving his eyes to the offering table once more.

“this.”

you raised your eyebrows upon the cryptic message, confusion written all over your face. upon seeing your contorted face, instead of further explaining things, the man chose to retreat, offering you a small smile.

“good night, y/n.”

it was a weird encounter with mr. jung.

however, you remembered wooyoung and hongjoong's words, about how cryptic and confusing the elderly man can be. and you were never in one thought anyway with mr. jung, so you decided to drop the thoughts of that night.

but surprise, surprise, oh the thoughts you were going to have today.

"...say what?" you dumbly ask once again.

your butler sighed, once again offering the fancy box in his hand. "it came just this morning, madam. a gift from lee juyeon for the gala, addressed to mrs. jung y/n." he explained.

the whole people sat around the table were silent as they watched the scene unfold before them. wooyoung rose to action first, snatching the box from the butler and putting it on the table.

upon opening the box, he was met with a neatly folded fabric of what seemed to be a dress, a set of jewelry, a pair of masks, an invitation and a piece of paper. he took both the invitation and paper, observing the contents. he found the gala theme to be a masquerade party, the lee family invited ateez to be a part of the gala for a week. he then moved his eyes to the other piece of paper, reading it carefully.

he decided to read it out loud. "dearest mrs. jung, i hope you accept this token of good friendship between us, ateez and lee family. come to the gala and— what the fuck? —and allow me to have a dance with you— what the," he seethed, "what is this royal bastard doing?! sending you these and- and a dance?! hyung didn't you tell him she was married?" he asked, voice going an octave higher.

"well he did use 'mrs. jung', so he should've known." yeosang quipped, back to eating his breakfast.

"hongjoong?" you asked him unsurely. he took the paper from wooyoung's hand, reading the content quickly before putting it down.

"we need this connection." he sighed, but proceed to look up to you, "how about you? are you okay with this? i know this is important and we kinda don't have a choice, but i wanna know how you feel about this. don't do it if you're not comfortable." he made sure, eyes glimmering with hesitation. you just nod, though hesitating, you sure want to give the best.

"we have no choice." you murmured agreeing with him.

"uh, excuse me? i'm her husband? shouldn't i be the one saying that?" wooyoung cut in the conversation, still salty and filled with jealousy.

"ooh, the green monster is showing." one of the boys said, inducing laughter.

hongjoong just chuckled. "hey, no one is in fault in here. i told him she was married, y/n explained to him that you are, no doubt, her husband." he explained.

"you do you, woo. watch on your wife, but remember," he pressed on his last word, "business is business. keep it professional. and i see there's a pair of matching masquerade mask in there. i think it speaks a lot."

standing up, hongjoong clasped his hands together, gathering his voice before announcing, "tonights is the start of the gala week. prepare yourselves, show up all clean, be ready, and be at your best behavior. i expect the best out of all of us. we're leaving at five this evening."

he raised his cup of morning tea, proposing a toast.

"to our glory."

the whole day, wooyoung has been pouting, seething, if not drowning in jealousy over the morning shenanigans. it was bound to happen anyway, with how possessive he could be. not that you're complaining, that side of him could lead to many passionate things to your marriage life.

passionate arguments, and even more passionate endings, fiery make ups.

you constantly teased him, drawing even more crinkle on his face leading to you laughing. he was still upset, but it went moderate when you found that juyeon not only included a pair of matching mask, but also a matching tie to your dress for wooyoung's attire, in which wooyoung complained with a ‘tie and a dress? that’s hardly fair.’

in the end, you both had to use the gift well.

"fuck, that royal bastard has a good taste, too." he murmured, on today's evening while waiting for you on the living room.

he was trying his best to still look upset, keyword trying. the only thing that made him angry in the first place was the fact some other guy gave you something personal; but can he truly stay mad when you look this good?

it was a long black dress, his favorite color. a sleeveless dress with a halter style top and a choker neckline. the piece being backless and having an absolutely low cut on the front part did not help at all, only accentuating the curves of your breasts. the only cute thing the dress provided was the frilly tulle skirt. the pair of earrings and bracelet only made you shine brighter, giving you that elegant look.

and it didn't help you the way wooyoung look with his all black suit and a tie matching to your black dress. his usually messy hair was now tied up. the rolex he got sat nicely on his wrist, giving him that professional look. as if he wasn't ravishing enough to begin with in his usual baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, he had to rub his handsomeness to your face this way.

"you look absolutely ravishing, wife," he couldn't help but blurt out, eyes still watching you like a hawk watching on its prey. he landed a smooth kiss on the back of your hand.

"and so are you, husband." you smirked. you boldly reach out, pulling on his neck to land a playful kiss on his lips which he happily returned.

"please, for the love of god, get a room."

at this point, none of the boys' complaints got into any of your brains. hand in hand, and still stars trucked, you both got into the designed rolls royce. you thought the sunset looked nice that day, but all wooyoung see was you, all the way to the lee family mansion.

the lee family mansion, to say it was nicely decorated wouldn't do any justice.

everything was decorated in a golden brown hue, the lights were set in a yellow tone. just from the lobby you could faintly hear a classical music played by orchestra, and you could see some art pieces here and there, the ones that were guarded and, maybe, were lent from museum.

talking about old money.

there are some guests chatting just around the corner of the great hall, while the rest busy themselves waltzing around in the middle of the room with their respective partners.

"tiger in. is everybody in the room?"

hongjoong's voice came through each of your ear pieces. you and wooyoung look at each other before nodding, confirming that you hear the same thing. pressing a button, you each confirmed of your presence.

"yeon in."

"uno in."

"mars in."

"lion in."

"howl in."

"bear in."

"fox in."

lastly, you spoke, "ocean in."

"remember. behave. dance or talk around, make new allies, and observe. dismissed." hongjoong's voice once again blasted, before a light beep came through, ending the conversation.

from the corner of your eyes you could faintly see the members starting to scatter around the room, some in pairs, some alone. your arm was still intertwined with wooyoung, as he lead you further into the great hall.

"i think we have some time for us." wooyoung remarked, stopping in near the dancing crowd. stepping in front of you, he offered his hand. "what do you say? shall we dance?"

smirking, you accepted his hand. "lead the way, husband."

he hold your hand in his, while his other hand rested on your waist. you put your other hand on his shoulder. he lead you both to the middle of the dancing crowd, feet tapping to the music as he swayed you in his arms.

wooyoung was undoubtedly a good dancer. he lead you in such a way you were easily swayed and moved, as if your muscles became his to move around. he spin you around, eliciting chuckles from the both of you when your tulle twirled with your movement. once again his hand landed on your waist, pulling you close to his body.

"you're so beautiful." he whispered.

"and you're so handsome. how many times more are we going to have this conversation?" you ask amusedly.

"until i forget how beautiful you are."

he lowered his eyes, taking your whole attire. the dress, the black with gold stripes mask similar to his adorning your eyes, the soft velvet gloves encasing your hands— you looked stunning. you looked so stunning he couldn't help his hand to go higher, resting it on your bare back, giving it a gentle squeeze. his breath went heavier as he felt your smooth skin under his palm.

you hissed upon his touch, hot against your skin. "woo—" you warned.

"i need you," he exhaled, "god, i need you so desperately. you're so beautiful it's driving me insane." he spoke breathily.

"baby, we're at work." you reminded him of the reality, but it didn't seem to bother him at all as he moved his lips near your ears, his breath ghosted around as he lightly nip your earlobe.

"it'll be quick, i promise. i'll make it good." his grip on your back went tighter, "please," he begged.

he moved his head back, staring at your eyes and lips for a second. lust were clear in his eyes, from behind his mask. he dived for your lips, kissing you lightly, though you know he's holding himself back so much as you were both in a middle of a crowd, while at work. the kiss might be light and seemly innocent, but not with the way he bit your lower lip when he pulled back, alluring you with his lustful gaze.

he pleaded once again.

in which you could no longer keep your stance, nor your needs, nor your sanity. a whispered yes escaped your lips, and he was fast in pulling you away from the crowd, away from the great hall, practically running to the farthest and quietest bathroom. patience be damned, as thin as ice when he backed you up against each hallway, kissing and groping each other as if there's no tomorrow.

thank the lees for having such a big bathroom.

wooyoung basically pushed you inside the room, making your waist hit the cabinet as he locked the room.

oh, the primal look in his eyes.

he took of his mask, threw it somewhere across the room. you did the same. he stepped forward, claiming your lips with his once again, this time with no restraint as no one was around. you could hear your breaths racing, the messy smacking of your lips against his, raising heat to your face and your insides.

"baby," you pulled, trying hard to hold him, "baby we gotta be quick," you reminded him.

he just nodded. "turn around for me." and you obeyed him, turning around to face the huge mirror in front of you. "watch us baby. don't take your eyes off the mirror." he commanded.

and you did.

you watched as he stared at you through the mirror, his hands busy in picking up your tulle skirt revealing your black panties. you picked your skirt from his hand, bunching some of the fabric in your hands, putting it aside.

he slid his hand through your (already soaked) panties, and you involuntarily closed. "eyes open, baby girl." he gripped your jaw. he quickly pulled his zipper, lowering both his underwear and pants just enough to let his dick out. you couldn't see it, the anticipation of it filling you, until you could feel him putting your panties aside, teasing your other lips with his tip before he pushed his dick inside your walls, up to the brim and stilling, catching his breath.

"stop fluttering around me," he whined feeling your walls massaging his cock nicely. "fuck, so tight."

you were already a moaning mess by the time he slowly moved.

"faster, woo," you begged already letting the greed take over. his faint smirk was visible through the mirror.

the snapping movement he created was so good you almost lost balance, but he caught you just in time as he brought his body closer to you, trapping you between the cabinet and himself. he put his hand near your stomach on the cabinet to save you from further unwanted pain, as he laid his head against yours, lips right beside your ears.

"my good girl, so dirty, so in love with me she'd let me take her in someone else's bathroom, at work," he groaned into your ears. "your moans are so pretty, baby. here i thought the dress was the only pretty thing on you."

praising or degrading, at this point you have no idea. not with how delicious his cock glided around your velvet walls. not with how his lips playfully glided across the column of neck, giving feathery kisses.

"y-you're fucking me so good, woo," you moaned out.

"yeah? always giving the best for my girl, no?" he asked you, and you nod obediently.

"look at how beautiful you are now, y/n." he gripped your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes open, "other men might give you this dress, and this dress looked so damn good on you, yes,"

so this is what it was about. partly.

"but only i can make you moan so pretty like this. make your pretty pussy flutter, make your face contort in pleasure prettily when i give you those mind blowing orgasm," he taunted, "only my dick can please you, filling you up with my cum the way you like it."

a loud moan slipped through you agape mouth, amusing wooyoung. "you always loved my cum, don't you? filling you up to the brim. fuck, could get you all round and pregnant. would you like that?"

"yes, yes, yes!"

"yes what, baby?"

"give me your babies, fill me up, i'll be pregnant for you, fuck!" you cried out, feeling the hot wave on your lower parts, "fuck baby, i'm—" your brain short circuited stopping your words, completely replacing it with louder moans.

"you're gonna walk around and dance around with my cum inside you. i don't want a bit of it spilled out. want you to remember that you're carrying me inside of you while you talk and move around with other men." he seethed. he slipped his hand under your skirt, easily found your clit and pressed it with his thumb, making fast figure eights on it.

you desperately turned your face, hand going behind you to pull him by the cheek closer to your face, wanting to kiss him so bad. he captured your lips in a messy kiss, creating strings of saliva as both tongue danced around. he fastened his movement when he felt your pussy fluttering around him and your moans getting messier, which only mean you're close.

you came with a loud moan, your essence wetting his dick and some dripping down your thighs. wooyoung chased his high, groaning loudly when he stilled, making sure he put his cum deep inside you.

"clench baby. keep it inside." he inquired as he pulled out slowly. he quickly put your panties back, getting some tissue from the cabinet to wipe the rest of your essence on your legs as well from his overly wet dick, before putting it back to its place.

he zipped himself up before helping you to stand properly, straightening your skirt to put it back to its proper state, then smiled as if you both didn't just sin in someone else's bathroom. you were still dazed and catching your breath. turning around, you circled your hands around his neck, pulling him for a sweet soft kiss for a cherry on top.

a ringtone blasted from wooyoung's phone, breaking the kiss.

"shit, it's hongjoong hyung." he cussed, but still pressing the green button, "hello?"

"where the fuck are you? and where's y/n? why aren't you both answering to your receivers?" hongjoong's voice blasted from the speaker so loud wooyoung flinched and had to put his phone away from his ears, trying not to be deaf in such a young age.

"hyung, chill, we were just stepping out for... a fresh air." he made up while holding back his own laugh. hongjoong might be absolutely mad over this shenanigans, but it's so worth it.

"get back here asap. juyeon's asking for y/n. and i've sent everyone out to look for yo—"

and just then, the door bursted open, revealing jongho and his face, contorting in disgust when he finally realize the scene happening in front of him.

"in the middle of work? really?" wooyoung could only throw a sheepish smile. he sighed, before answering to his earpiece, "found the two lovebirds. in a damn bathroom so far in the east wing doing god knows what." he almost gagged.

jongho stepped backwards, "let's go. y/n's wanted."

"never knew bathroom air could be so fresh." someone quipped through the receiver.

the crowd in the great hall once again welcomed you. you caught hongjoong and juyeon in the line of your sight, and you knew it was your cue to go. sharing one more quick kiss with wooyoung, you departed for the two men, leaving wooyoung and jongho behind.

you threw juyeon a sweet smile, "evening mr. lee. what a great party you have here."

"and attended by a great person, too. i see you're putting my token of goodwill to good use." he remarked, taking your hand and landing a kiss there. "and i hope this a way to say yes to a dance with me?"

"it's a yes, sir."

juyeon smiled back, excusing you and himself to hongjoong before leading you to the dance floor. his movement was slightly stiffer than wooyoung's but he proved to still able to lead a dance. never having to stood this close to another man made you feel nervous, obvious to your awkward touch on his shoulder.

juyeon watched your awkward body language with an amused grin on his face, "lighten up, mrs. jung. i can promise you it's not my intention to create any problem between our relationship. especially so early like this."

"so you're planning to do it in the future, then?" you teased, in which he replied with a curt smile.

"i hope not. i'd like to make friends more than foes."

you followed his lead in the dance, lightening up yourself before juyeon as you both chatted. lee juyeon is as smooth as he is light with his lips, in contrast to his usual hard look and rumored harsh personality. despite you being the one who had to approach him and initiate alliance, he talked more and eased the air around, sometimes even joking around.

after a while, you finally decided to push the topic you've been dreading for the past week. "so what do you think, mr. lee? of my proposal, alliance between us?" you asked, anxiety churning in the pit of your stomach.

juyeon went quiet upon your sudden intrusion, and you thought maybe you were too fast on confronting the issue. his eyes wandered around the room, trying to escape your gaze, you presumed. however he tightened his grip on you, bringing you closer to him.

"i actually have considered it, and i think it's a nice proposal, but," he stopped for a while, "i must make sure that this will work, the lees and ateez. so i can't just accept you working under my family just like that," he continued.

your heart almost dropped, and maybe so did your face behind the mask.

"however, i have a way to do that." he spoke again, and you quickly raised your head, awaiting his next response.

"look to your left. your nine o'clock." he commanded. you slightly turned to your left, eyeing the part of the room he mentioned. he then stated, "see the man in black and white suit, a black diamond pin on his necktie and plain black mask?"

you nodded, confirming that you saw the same man.

"his name is kim younghoon, from seoul kim family. ever heard of them?"

"yes. another mafia royal family. almost like your family, i think."

"not as mighty as mine, but yes." he asserted.

"what about them?" you questioned.

juyeon took a deep breath, readying himself as he explained. "the lees and the kims have been an ally for many generations. but unfortunately, after the thing... between my dad and lee jiyoung, it sort of created a gap between us." he added, "most of their families were supporters of my aunt." you nodded.

"their fields are similar to ateez's biggest industry at the moment. meds, drugs, et cetera. you'd found common ground with them and ateez will grow more. here's where you came in handy." he remarked, "i want you to act as a third party between our families. fix things between us. i'll introduce you to kim younghoon, pass you up for a dance. you'll work with them, and if your work is good, your bond with them will automatically be stronger, however, they won't be able to ignore the fact that i was the one that brought you to them."

"a good work to the kims means a good work for me and my family. a good work with the kims and lees means you have connections to two of the most powerful mafia families. a win-win, a perfect domino effect, don't you think?" he proposed.

you furrowed your brows.

truthfully, juyeon was right. it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. the lees are ruler of the south, and the kims held most part of seoul, not to mention the amount of their members that entered the politics and industries.

you’ve heard yeosang mentioning the kims more than twice. how they owned many hospitals, many other companies as well, but putting their drug company as their main family business. the kims are born from a line of doctors, professors of medicinal world, as well as businessmen dan businesswomen. some of them are even took part in the government’s ministry of health office, to maintain free passage for their own business. they don’t take much part in the dirty work within the mafia world, but they were still influential enough within it.

“taking a sweet time, aren’t we?”

“i’ll take the offer.” you quickly blurted out.

juyeon stared at your face, your eyes, trying to find any faults, any sign of hesitation, as this was considerably a hard job for a rookie no matter how easy it sounded. yet all he was met was a pair piercing eyes staring right back at him. “i won’t pull back. just like what i said before.”

the music stopped, just after you said your last word. you both bowed at each other, ending the first dance session perfectly. taking his offered hands to you, he led you away from the dance floor right to your awaiting guest. you walked just slightly behind him, letting juyeon take all the lead.

juyeon tapped on the said man’s shoulder when you stepped behind him.

juyeon let out a curt smile when kim younghoon turned around to face him. “kim younghoon,” he greeted shortly.

“juyeon.” younghoon replied just as short with a smile on his face. “nice party.”

juyeon hummed, “never a boring party with the lees.”

the cold and thick atmosphere between the two were unmistakable, clear to anyone’s eyes who dared to observe. juyeon and his piercing gaze, kim younghoon as his calm demeanor, yet straight eyes and body language, keeping his dominant persona in check.

when juyeon realized the meaningless chit-chat would lead nowhere, he pulled you forward placing you right beside him. “this is mrs. jung y/n of ateez. i told you about her just before the gala, remember?”

upon the introduction, you quickly bowed at kim younghoon out of courtesy. you wouldn’t dare to stare yet, but you could see him offering you a warm smile and a bow just from the corner of your eyes.

“i do remember.”

“well, in my opinion you should offer her a dance. she’s a great dancer, from my short yet unforgettable experience,” juyeon had said, pulling you even further for you to stand before kim younghoon. “she follows exceptionally well.” he implied.

“then i should find out by myself.”

he offered juyeon one last bow out of courtesy, which juyeon replied back with one. juyeon stepped back, before turning around and completely disappear from both of your presence to give you a space of your own.

a counting tap was heard, indicating the start of the next dance session. younghoon offered his hand to you, “may i?”

you took his hand in you just when the music started, and he quickly led the dance, bringing you to the middle of the dancefloor between the crowd.

it started off awkwardly, as you racked your brain, thinking hardly of what to say, of how to start a conversation at all. lifting your gaze, you were met with younghoon’s pair of soft brown eyes, already staring at you.

oh. oh. you felt something tugging in your stomach as your brain remembered and tried to recall the deja vu you just had. those brown eyes. the garden, the sound of your breath hitching.

“you…” your words were stuck, as you were stunned.

the man in the garden, your helper, your savior, was none other than kim younghoon.

younghoon smiled, you could see his eyes curved into a crescent from behind his mask making his brown eyes shine even brighter.

“miss,” he greeted softly. “i finally know your name now, y/n.”

what kind of coincidence was this?

also i almost lost my whole document (fic bits, drafts, etc) bc i stupidly brought my phone to the pool and now it's dead.

* jipsa; butler

* abeoji; father (sorta formal)

ok i think i might start aiming to write >5k for each chapter so WE. CAN. GET. IT. DONE.

also i feel like i'm gonna focus more on younghoon, juyeon, y/n and hongjoong in the next chapter bc i need to start building the plot up.

I HOPE U ENJOY

206 notes · View notes

woosunjpeg · 1 year ago

Text

enha hyung line when they get high

idk if anyones done this before but i got high and thought abt it and immediately needed to write abt it😭

warnings: weed(duh), swearing

heeseung

- device of choice: bong

- HEAR ME OUT!!!!!

- he just gives me the vibes of someone that has a bong collection

- loves loves LOVES!!!! indica

- smokes to relax more than anything

- trys to hit a new record for biggest cloud tho😭

- medium tier munchies

- will order a bunch of food just to eat one thing (jake eats the rest)

- will either fall asleep quick or be up for hours just talking

- would love to smoke with him

- convos ranging from favourite food to first time stories

jay

- device of choice: vapes or blunts

- will only smoke blunts he rolls tho

- doesnt smoke them a lot tho cause hes to lazy to do all that

- switched between indica and sativa

- depends on his mood

- smokes sativa when hes playing around with his guitar

- indica for when he chills with the others

- cause someone needs to be calm

- A WHOLE FIVE STAR CHEF

- like better than he is now

- doesnt get crazy munchies just have a few snacks

- makes sure everyone has water or some drink next to them

- 10/10 knows what hes doing

jake

- device of choice: pen 💀/ pre-rolls

- hes lazy (so am i tho so..)

- sativa 100%

- always smokes too much

- will say he wont green out but always gets so close to

- WILL NOT FUCKING STAY STILL

- a literal golden retriever

- needs attention the whole time

- bro wants to do anything and everything

- gets hella munchies

- lock your pantry or everything will be gone

- loves smoking with sunghoon

- both of them are awful influences on eachother tho

- 5/10 fun for the first hour then hes just annoying

sunghoon

- device of choice: pre rolls/ bong

- hee is his bff whenever they smoke

- does not rlly care what other ppl are smoking but only buys indica for himself

- smokes all of jake and hee's stash

- just a whole menace

- hes already loud as hell sober

- NOW IMAGINE THAT 20x WORSE

- does not give a shit if ur annoyed

- is right beside jake when food is put out

- will grab a bowl of chips and sit on the couch until the bowl is empty

- him and jake feed into eachothers stupid ideas

- 3.5/10 would hate to smoke with him by ourselves, .5 cause he would be the entertainment when with a group of ppl

ty for reading i wrote this high so srry if its bad 💀 reblogs help more than likes on tumblr! so pls reblog if u want

91 notes · View notes

m1ckeyb3rry · 3 months ago

Note

No because Karasu just has it all no one compares to him like Aoyama stressing for good reason LMAOO

Fr no in between….Mira once again serving the community with realistic dynamic representations….

LMAOOO EXACTLY that was my exact vision for Otoya!! I think it works esp well because we know he’s such a good with the flow dude…so he’d be like ok welp boxers are swag

FR im so excited for Karasu content because I’d imagine we’d get at least like two more chapters worth of Karasu panels soooo (please let him appear more in the main series too omg) another visual added to the manifestation circle

He’s so gorgeous in the epinagi series!!! I think it’s also because the artist has more time to like thoughtfully draw everything out so there’s not as many low quality npc type panels or moments LOL

LMAO good luck coming up with the au theme!! In Mira we trust part 15 but omg a title already…is this top secret….if not…..I’d love to hear it….

SHSHSH stop this has me kicking my feet we’re like y/n and tullia in the Miraverse but on tumblr LMAOOO but SAME sometimes crack is refreshing like I’ll never saw no to a goofy moment where no one’s dying but instead they’re just involved in crazy stupid shenanigans

HSJSHSJS you’re about to collect the entire bllk cast with that thinking /j it’s ok we steer you away and back to the tabietiaken side character agenda….but yeah something about ness just doesn’t do it for me LOL but FRR I remember following along with the chameleon/Charizard rebellious phase I ate up that drama

LMFAOOOOOO BRO BROCK I can’t that’s so funny….im ngl I always lowk made fun of Brock because he’d always go for all the nurse joys and office jennys and any adult female…maybe this was the first sign to your Otoya conversion HAHA ok but you are onto something….bro knows first aid and can cook well it fr is Otoya x Barou love child……kinda a player but I’d like to think he wouldn’t cheat and also husband material without all the yelling LMAOOO

Im ngl whenever I think of Brock I think of his croagunk coming to reign him in in the Sinnoh season and also his iconic line “I’ll use this frying pan as a drying pan” when they were running in the rain….so many good memories….

Ok responding to the other response here too so I don’t keep piling on asks

TULLIA >>>>> I’ll never get over her death in pi though…I was so invested I thought she’d end up happy with toge but no??? Anyways….but I see what you mean!! I think like a lot of the insert fics I’ve seen where the mc actually enters bllk it ends up just kinda following the plot of bllk but with the addition of the mc into the main character group and that setting makes it a bit hard to add canon divergent scenes that show character growth etc…..honestly the smau was perfect because we get to see the character interactions in the realm of “girls in bllk” while not having to worry about the logistical details of plot and whatnot LOL

LMAOO Otoya and Shidou a menace to everyone in bllk im crying Karasu getting constantly targeted and attacked was hilarious and it was honestly how I envisioned their characters to be like too sooooo (the head nod emojis crack me up in general they’re so goofy but SHIDOU using them just amplified the effect by like ten times)

I snorted at that part like bro really tweeted onto social media “please take me in as your child pls I need parents get married and hurry up”

THE GRAMMAR GUARDIAN + THE ALTERNATIVE INTERPRETATION OF TBE WORDS BEING A POINT OF TEASING ISAGI WAS GOLD like I read that part and really thought “this is so big brained omg this is hilarious”

PLS DO!! These were so entertaining to read LOLLL

ALSO apparently there’s some live/talk show going on in the next day or so with some of the vas where they’re gonna release new info on s2….will keep you posted if I see anything…..

- Karasu anon

words cannot describe how perf karasu is 😔 truly i feel like i haven’t liked a character this much in AGESSSS (besides nagi) like bllk really reignited smth in me!! and YES for sure there’s def a time constraint thing but also idk if you compare otoya or barou in epinagi with karasu specifically it’s just like damn…not even trying to hide who the fav is 😭 although maybe i’m just biased because he’s MY fav

i have a few titles floating around so ofc it’s subject to change especially based on what i actually end up writing abt but atm my fav is “dragonfly dance” 🤔 haven’t picked an au yet but i’m getting a very sad feel based on what’s brewing in my mind ☝🏻 not angry sad the way hollyhock is but like regretful sad if that makes sense 😰 smth abt fighting an inevitable destiny but knowing deep down you can’t really change it…we will see though maybe it’ll end up being smth more lighthearted!!

i think brock would be so happy to have a girl be into him that the thought of cheating would NOT cross his mind he’s like peak malewife material 🤩 PLS the frying pan like is so good 😭 he’s so iconic tbh the first few seasons of pokémon looking back were SO funny on a level that i as a child could not comprehend

LMAOOO i fr pulled up w a spin move there her death in pi was so brutal honestly 😓 but yk me letting my readers be happy is a new development and a bllkverse exclusive normally i’m much meaner!! and i will say that in this version in my mind mc is actually in a different wing altogether during the first selection…she was on the same first selection team as other characters we know (maybe like hiori and aryu??) and she was def on team z but not THE team z ☝🏻 meanwhile tullia was in yet another wing (maybe with shidou) so definitely opportunities to branch away from the main plot!! but then mc and tullia do end up as 2 and 3 during second selection (replacing aryu and tokimitsu) because they’re professional players so they can score 100 goals much faster than the others which means we do circle back to being alongside the manga storyline 😔💔 i don’t even have an issue with following canon because idm messing with that — it’s more so that there isn’t necessarily a CONFLICT for the mc besides being a girl?? but she’s a way better player than most of the bllk guys so it’s not a huge issue which means she doesn’t really need to develop much as a character 😬 plus my vision for her in the NEL is literally that she stays benched for the most part because loki thinks she’ll inhibit charles’s growth too much….so honestly i’m afraid a fully fledged story might not be too entertaining (although it certainly would have its moments…karasu x mc partnership plus a deconstruction/subversion of the “i can fix him” trope with nagi plus the tullia and isagi drama going on in the background) 😵‍💫 BUT smaus are perfect!!

THE HEAD NOD EMOJIS ARE SOO FUNNY and shidou would be the one to use them unironically 😭 pls karasu getting bullied was so good LMAOAOAO when he was like “it’s just one thing after another with you today” to otoya i think that was his best line he was so done 😔💔

can’t even blame hiori for that one because his only other options for a mother and father duo in this au are tullia + isagi which would be too friendly for him, tullia + barou which is just scary (mostly because of barou), anri + ego which is even scarier because they’re BOTH crazy, and mc + nagi which would actually be a worse situation than the one he’s in…nagi is NOT cut out to be the father that stepped up 😭💔 in a world of nagiy/n shippers (aka tullia and chigiri) hiori stands alone as the sole tabiy/n shipper 😓 besides maybe otoya but tbh otoya just roots for whatever he finds the funniest at the moment

LMAOOO i think my fav parts of smaus is making random characters interact when they hardly ever do in canon…like grammar guardian isagi and womanizer otoya hardly have any scenes together in the manga but they are beefing HEAVILY over twitter!! NOT TO MENTION OTOYA AND SHIDOU GANGING UP TO BULLY KARASU AND RIN 😭 like those two genuinely do not even interact but yet they just came together so naturally in the smau and i think half of the humor is just those random unexpected relationships that end up occurring HAHAHA

ooh definitely do keep me posted!! i’m always ready for more s2 info…because it means we’re just that much closer to tabieitaken on screen + the returns of nagi and barou (and the other characters ig 😩 preparing myself for the influx of aiku and sae content that’s abt to FLOOD my dash i’m sure)

#answered asks

2 notes · View notes

donnerpartyofone · 11 months ago

Note

i find you unimaginably cool and ive expressed to you before on anon the sentiment that i feel a deep kinship towards you for how you speak so candidly abt your own stupidity (pls dont take that as me calling you stupid) bcuz i feel exactly the same way abt my own stupidity and hate when ppl try to talk me out of it but ANYways i just saw your post abt writing a novelization of splice and i am literally reeling. i love that weird ass movie so much and i think writing a novelization of it is one of the most off the wall and amazing things ive ever heard of. i hope that you will share when it is published bcuz i cannot wait to read it. pls know that someone out there understands you (or at least understands you as best as someone can thru this parasocial lens of tumblr and how you choose to share yourself there) and that someone out there thinks you are basically what i hope i can be when i grow up. thank you for sharing. thank you for articulating yourself as well as you do (i too have the itch to tell you you are not stupid but bcuz i know how it is i wont do it but besides that, i think you are one of the clearest and most well articulated writers ive ever encountered online or elsewhere). sorry, this all feels insane to type. im off two tallboy ipas and i just think youre great.

Dearest Correspondent,

Oddly enough, just the other day somebody liked an older post of mine, and when I clicked on it to remind myself of what it was, the next post down was your last message. Anyway, thanks! The whole novelization business is really funny. Do people even know what they are anymore? I didn't know anybody still made them until I was hired to do SPLICE. I used to get them from the drugstore sometimes when I was a kid because my parents were very uptight about what I watched, but they wouldn't be caught dead restricting anyone's reading habits. During my initial conversation with the SPLICE publisher, we kind of bonded over our memories of the CHILD'S PLAY 2 novelization, of all things, that seemed to help me a lot in addition to my ideas about what SPLICE should be like on paper. I tend to think of novelizations as just another piece of merch, but when you write them, I don't know, like you really have to live out the movie in your mind over and over again to figure out what the characters are experiencing physically, environmentally, how their emotional experiences affect their bodies, etc. You have to fill in the blanks of what they think and sense just enough to make your transcription convincing, while staying within certain bounds to honor what the filmmaker meant to say. SPLICE started as kind of a lark for me, and then almost immediately it became extremely personal; when I was nearing the end of my first draft I thought, "OK, well, I guess everyone is about to find out how insane I am." I was afraid it just sounded "crazy" and wouldn't be what the publisher was expecting. But after I turned it in, the surprise encouragement I got from actual-Vincenzo Natali was pretty amazing, so maybe it's good! Maybe you really CAN'T tell how crazy I am, and it's just very entertaining. You'll have to wait and see.

Parasocial relationships are tricky, huh, especially here on tumblr dot com. The best thing you can do for yourself is just be very aware that they are happening within you, a test you seem to have passed. I think a lot of us come here seeking understanding of our weirdest parts, but the more you put out there to find the people who get what you're saying, you simultaneously get a lot of reminders that most people have no idea what you're talking about. There will be people who seem to hate you because they've misunderstood you, and there will also be people who love you but whose interactions prove that they have absolutely no idea what you're communicating. I recently culled a bunch of followers because they were just creating a lot of noise, even though they may have meant well, and I was losing the clarity I needed to keep doing this. I started to see every post as a worrisome opportunity to find out how poorly people can possibly read me, and suppressing the urge to re-explain myself every day was becoming exhausting. And ironically, around the same time, I was briefly mutuals with one of my favorite bloggers ever, and just as I thought we were becoming chummy, they unfollowed me. I didn't freak out, actually I just unfollowed them back because I was concerned about being annoying, but I did have all kinds of Thoughts about this event. I have spent a lot of time reviewing what my projections were about that person, and what my personal investment in their narrative says about me. I think there could be something good to get out of this audit, even though the whole episode is sort of embarrassing. But Tumblr definitely gives you a lot of opportunities to examine your own filters, clean them out once in a while, and get to know yourself a little better--even if other people seem to be getting to know you a little worse! You just have to stick to your own course and see what comes of it.

Uh. What the hell was I saying. I don't know! But I appreciate your messages, I feel "gotten" by them. Some of the follower upheaval recently did involve the way that I process my experience of my own stupidity out loud on here--like I know that sometimes folks are trying to be helpful by contradicting me whenever I sound "negative" (read: realistic), but being told (by strangers) how to feel about yourself and that you're wrong about your own experiences is actually really awful, confusing, frustrating, and undermining. So I don't mind being reminded that my signal is coming through for at least some people. I hope you're doing good this holiday season. I wonder what beers you had, they sound fun!

Good tidings to you,

PS Isn't "on here" a weird phrase? I always feel like a primate when I say it, but I have yet to find a different phrase that conveys the same thing as accurately.

7 notes · View notes

teklarn · 3 years ago

Note

hi, this is my first ever ask so I'm not sure I'm doing this correctly, if that's the case I'm sorry; I don't know how tumblr works just yet >:')

would it be possible for you to write something about bakugo, pining incredibly hard for fem!reader and initially hating how strongly he feels about her? because they're not even friends, they only exchange few words occasionally and she doesn't even glance at his way whereas he slowly finds himself unable to divert his eyes from her during classes? shes always with damn deku and his friends and doesn't even seem interested in him at all but his heart can't ignore the way she looks at him proudly whenever they spar together, the way she sends him small confident smiles as they fight each other with all they have; so he thinks that maybe, maybe he might have a chance. basically bakugo liking reader so much he's completely lost in self-hatred because he always thought feelings were for weak romantics and not great people like him, but everytime he sees reader doing some badass things (again, like sparring with him and basically matching his skills etc...) he's reminded of how badly he likes reader? but when he finally accepts he's fallen for reader, after ignoring and trying to forget about how she makes him feel, he masters up the courage to confess? and it's a very clumsy confession because he's awkward and has no idea how to deal with those feelings? and he tries so hard to make reader realise he's never been more serious than now? and reader is startled and speechless before rejecting him? and at that point he's just completely humiliated, so he nods and walks away.

it might be a little dramatic but I've always been into unrequited love and one-sided pining. thank you, its okay if you don't want to write about this, i'll understand <33

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader (my hero academia)

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

a/n: AHHHHH this is so cute <33 honestly this is super exciting for me and this ask made me so happy, lovey. i’m fairly new to tumblr, i’m usually just a reader but i wanted to migrate here from wattpad so this made me so happy. here u are my love <33 i hope this lives up to what u wanted !! :)) a bit lengthy, but i had a lot of fun writing it !!!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.

genre: fluffy, fluffier than the clouds istg, however the clouds are sprinking a little teeny weeny droplet of angst.

warnings: cursing (bakugou, duhh), one-sided pining (on bakugou’s part) second hand embarrassment (on bakugou’s part bc we can all agree he’s a complete idiot when it comes to trying to get someone’s attention), just bakugou being a jackass, i gave the reader a quirk

word count: 3,859

(pls excuse any typos or mistakes, i edited to the best of my ability but i miss some things sometimes !)

- - -

part 2 is here my loves <3

brutal. it was utterly ruthless. he couldn’t focus, couldn’t think right. his hands were already exceptionally sweaty, but gosh when he saw your damn face, he was ready to explode. literally.

what the hell was it about you? was it your stupid smile? or the way you just seemed to carry every battle on your back? was it all the undeniably sweet things you do for others ‘just because’?

it made him angry that he thought about you, but gosh he couldn’t wait to see you every day.

just like any other day, bakugou found himself staring at the large door to the classroom, awaiting the moment you would bounce into his day, skirt shifting around your legs, bag slung loosely around your shoulders.

his leg was bouncing eagerly.

bakugou didn’t know when the feelings came. his cheeks just started flaring up all of a sudden and one day you just looked...different. you hadn’t done anything different to yourself. it was just him. not that he would ever admit that, to you or anybody else.

you were insufferable. you were stupid and obnoxious and so...so damn...

“y/n! come look at this!”

you’d come walking into class just as expected, and as soon as you did, that stupid nerd had called you over.

it didn’t help that deku sat right behind him, either. the two of you had recently gotten closer. bakugou noticed it last month when he yelled at the two of you to shut up about all might and get to work. he’d turned around to find you leaning over deku, hands resting on his shoulders while you peered at his phone.

“sorry, bakugou,” you’d said, barely acknowledging him. you had waved him off like an annoying fly. is that all you were to him? some nuisance that got in the way of your oh-so-entertaining conversations with deku?

all he heard nearly every day was your chipper voice talking to deku. always, “oh my gosh, midoriya, did you see the fight edgeshot was in last night?” or “midoriya! i have something to add to our quirk analysis book!”

that was the one that took the cake. you two dorks shared a notebook, occasionally passed between one another, and filled it with junk about quirks and pro heroes. but no matter how much he tried to tune you out, no matter how he tried to zone off and think about something else, you were always there. it made him want to vomit how much he thought about you.

you were doing an adorable shuffle over to midoriya’s desk and leaned over the table as you usually did while he angled his phone your way. “did you see this hero report?”

deku let you slip the phone out of his grasp to get a better look.

“no,” you breathed. “was this just recent?”

“yeah,” deku said, taking the phone back. “last night.”

“holy—”

“can you guys shut up over there?” bakugou said, his voice quaking.

“sorry, kacchan.” deku scrolled through the article.

dammit, bakugou thought. “i wasn’t talking to you, nerd. i was talking to shitface over here.” he jerked his head towards you. his eyes flared in anger when he saw you were looking down at your phone, now focused in on the article yourself. “i was talking to you, asshat!”

your eyes flicked up to his. you looked around for a moment before slowly pointing to yourself as if to say, “me?”

his face scrunched. “yeah, you. you’re so damn loud.” gosh, he hated how his voice was cracking, how he could feel his ears and cheeks lighting up in a swollen, cherry red. his stomach flipped.

she’s looking at you, gosh i’m sweating. i’m going to throw up. she’s so gorgeous. what the hell? they’re ugly as shit, i don’t think anything of them.

his eyes bore into yours.

“did you...need something?”

your voice broke his trance.

“kacchan, are you okay? you dozed off there for a second. you look like you’re burning up.”

bakugou looked to deku who was currently stretching out of his seat, arm extended. he pressed the back of his hand to bakugou’s forehead. “you’re really warm, kacchan. should we call recovery girl?”

it took him a moment to realize what was happening. his vision got blurry every time he was with you. bakugou smacked deku’s hand away. “i’m fine!” his voice lifted at the end, cracking. “i’m not sick. don’t you think i’d take better care of myself?”

“i don’t doubt you take good care of yourself, kacchan, but everyone gets sick once in a while. there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“i never get sick!” besides, if i got sick, i wouldn’t want you to be the one taking care of me.

he was still pissed. he was always in a bad mood, however, more so right now because you’d gone straight back to your phone and that stupid hero article that was supposedly so damn interesting.

soon enough, the bell rang, and you were seated at your desk. it was jirou’s old spot, however, after much convincing, you two had switched spots so you could be closer to deku. just a few months of getting close to the idiot and you two are suddenly best friends. jirou hadn’t minded one tiny bit, claiming she needed a break from how loud that section of the room was.

late as always, aizawa came trudging into your room. thankfully, his entire body wasn’t obscured by a yellow sleeping bag that smelled of something unwashed and coffee and gasoline. (for some reason, aizawa’s clothes always smelled of it.)

“lucky for you,” he began while shuffling papers on his desk, “all of you are doing training for these first periods.”

the class cheered in perfect unison, followed by their individual chatter. you had erupted with glee along with them, and bakugou was sure he felt his heart clench and then explode. just a tiny bit. but he shoved the feeling down just as quickly as it had come up.

“go out to the field and wait for further instructions. don’t make a sound in the halls otherwise, i’ll expel all of you.”

this shut everyone up in almost a second, the sound draining out just as water does. the first years trailed out into the hall, single-file mimicking the positions baby ducklings would take when following their mother.

bakugou found himself walking faster when he saw you take up your spot in the line, hoping to land his spot right behind you.

unfortunately, this idiot who considered himself bakugou’s friend tugged him back. “bakugou!” a familiar voice rasped.

“shitty hair, let go of me.”

“hey man, chill out. wanna partner up if we’re doing training in pairs?”

bakugou glanced at the line, the spot that should have been reserved for him now taken up by sato.

bakugou tugged his sleeve from kirishima’s hand. “whatever,” he snapped.

“sounds good!” kirishima flashed him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up. the bubbly feeling in bakugou’s chest died down as he stood behind sato, the overwhelming scent of sugar filling his nose, various candies that would go straight to your arteries.

“you smell like ass, damn,” bakugou remarked, squeezing his nostrils together.

luckily, sato was tall enough to not hear the insult, as he towered over bakugou by just another head. the line began moving like a sloppy train down to the change rooms.

bakugou scoffed as he listened to your giggle. he should be making you laugh.

“you’ll be given partners randomly from this box.” aizawa held up a familiar red box. “inside are all your names. i’ll select one, then that person will come up and pick another name from the box. that will be your assigned partner for today. as soon as you have your assigned partner, i want you guys to get straight to work.”

denki raised a hand, speaking before being called on. “sensei, why are we getting random partners? we’re always allowed to choose.”

“in the real world, you’re going to come across different villains every day. you’ll never improve your skills or your quirks if you keep fighting the same person.”

denki sighed, slumping back.

dammit, bakugou thought, gritting his teeth together. there wasn’t any way he wanted to be partners with you. it’s obvious he’d win the fight in the first few seconds.

yes! exactly right! bakugou internally grinned. his fluctuating feelings had finally soothed themselves. you were just another extra, and he had no room for you in his head.

aizawa took a moment to fiddle with the slips of paper inside the box. soon enough, he pulled out a name. “todoroki.”

todoroki walked up, digging his hand into the box when aizawa held it out for him. he pulled out a name, delicately unraveling the slip. “uraraka, you’re my partner.” he deadpanned.

the brunette grinned. “great!”

the two found their own spot on the field, and the class’s attention was once again diverted to their grouchy teacher as he pulled out another name.

“bakugou.”

bakugou strutted up without a worry in his mind. he pulled a name to find...

“y/n,” he said, voice a low growl. instead of the annoying fluttering in his chest, his eyes met yours, and they were filled with a different, new ferocity. he crumpled the paper in one hand, letting it twirl to the ground.

you looked at him, unsmiling. your eyes gave away nothing, and to bakugou’s knowledge, all you saw in him was another opponent.

it took him a moment to realize you had both locked eyes for about a minute. perhaps the two of you would have stayed as you were if aizawa hadn’t snapped at the two of you to get moving as yaomomo’s name was called.

bakugou was on his way to the back of the field, you followed close behind. while there was plenty of room still, he chose a secluded area. while it was still open enough to view everything going on so nobody got hurt, it was often nobody chose to train here. for whatever reason, you weren’t sure.

“wait up, bakugou,” you said. after a bit, you caught up to him.

“if you can’t keep up, then...” then what? he looked at you from the side of his eye. “then don’t keep up...” gosh, here came the embarrassing, disgusting feeling of redness in his cheeks.

you laughed. “what?”

“shut up.”

“you’re an idiot, bakugou.”

“i said shut the hell up!”

“what, so you can call me shitface in front of the entire class but you get all pissed when i call you an idiot?”

so you had heard him!

he tongued his cheek, curling his hands around an invisible ball, explosions sparking in the centers of his palms. “don’t expect me to hold back, dumbass.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it.”

gosh he loved that about you.

bakugou caught his thought in the air.

ahem...gosh he hated that about you.

you both charged in at the same time. his cry was louder than yours, but you struck first.

he admired your quirk. while he’d overhead you explaining all the drawbacks it had, it was strong, and you were strong because you knew how to control it.

purple arrows flew from your arms, going in your desired directions. if you lost focus for one moment, they’d vanish and weaken. if you focused too hard or long, you’d be plagued by a splitting headache.

he’d spent too much time obsessing over your strengths and weaknesses.

your arrows were weightless, however they were solid objects capable of carrying any mass, any thing, and worked as extensions of your body.

the violet arrow had shot out at him, twisting around his right gauntlet and crushing inwards. it’d snaked around him without him noticing, slithering along his back.

bakugou struggled to get the air-light arrow off his wrist, but it was no use. he glared back, only to see your focused, furrowed brows. he’d expected to see your cocky ass smiling. it was nice to see you weren’t.

that was one thing that had also caught his eye. you never underestimate your opponent, but you never underestimate yourself, either.

you conjured a larger arrow. it snaked around your right arm as you hurled bakugou into the air, releasing your grasp on him. you shot your other arrow into the air, and it raced into the sky.

it swerved. bakugou’s eyes went wide as the tip of the arrow came down on his chest. if they weren’t intangible things, he would have been bleeding out.

another drawback: the arrows, while they could solidify, they couldn’t do any actual damage. you had to use your surroundings to inflict harm on your opponent.

he coughed out as the arrow shot him into the ground. he hadn’t even touched you, and here he was, vulnerable and so...so...

you stood over him, hands on your hips.

vulnerable and so lost in that adorable, winning smile.

“get away from me, idiot,” he grunted and turned onto his side, his back crying out in pain.

“i think i won this fight, bakugou,” you chirped, rocking on your heels.

“don’t get arrogant, shithead. you won’t be winning against me anymore.”

you grinned, arrows shooting out behind your back.

the dorms were exceptionally quiet. you were typing away in the common room, bakugou on the couch reading. everyone was off doing something else. it was the weekend, luckily. he’d expected you to go bounding out with everyone else, however you’d stayed back, claiming you had some homework to catch up on.

bakugou being classic bakugou had stayed back. he was excited to have the dorm to himself, but your dumbass was stuck here with him. couldn’t you have done your typing in your room?

you were so aggressive on that poor keyboard.

“oi, quiet down with your shit typing.”

you barely grunted in response.

“don’t ignore me.”

“i heard you, mom.”

“the hell did you call me?”

no response. only your aggressive typing is a bit less aggressive.

“i can still hear it,” bakugou remarked, eyes fixed on your back.

“‘kay,” you said. your typing slowed a tad, and your pressure on the keys lessened.

it was quiet now. bakugou should go back to his book. he shouldn’t still be looking for a reason to talk to you.

the pages crinkled in his fingers. he bit his tongue, keeping his snarky comments in.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? doing your damn homework. it’s due tomorrow.”

you turned, pursing your lips. “and how would you know what i’m working on? are you stalking me?”

“i- what? no. you’re such an idiot, of course i’m not—”

“i’m messing with you,” you breathed, face un-moving.

“o-oh,” bakugou stuttered out. he blinked awkwardly.

“gosh, what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re a jackass.” you returned to your work. bakugou settled with reading in his room. reading consisted of jumping onto his bed just as the stereotypical high school girl would in an eighties movie. he buried his face in his pillow, face burning bright red. he cursed you for making him feel this way, and hated himself even more for how much he enjoyed it.

the next day came swiftly. you’d left early to go train with midoriya. there were many improvements needed to be made, but you weren’t doing too bad.

you propelled yourself forwards with an arrow, and your green-haired friend shot back, lightning flickering around his body.

landing back on the ground, you panted and swiped the sweat from your brow. from the corner of your eye, you could make out both kirishima and bakugou coming to the training grounds.

bakugou stopped in his tracks, frowning at the sight of you.

it was evident he hated you a bit more than everyone else. he was always making his annoying comments, he was always snubbing you. you saw no reason to talk to him, so you didn’t. either way, even if you tried, he would still get angry for no reason.

it’d taken you quite some time to get used to his obnoxious attitude. tuning him out had been the best course of action, in your opinion.

the way you and midoriya had bonded was through bakugou, in a way. the first day of school, bakugou had snapped at you for tripping over your laces and nearly crashing into him. later that day, midoriya had stepped up and apologized for his old friend’s actions.

you two had never been too close until now. the recent incidents going on with the league of villains had snagged your attention, and it seemed you were the only person who didn’t mind listening to him ramble on about heroes.

you were just as passionate and just as dorky, but midoriya could talk your ear off. you never minded, and he always took the hint when you didn’t want to listen.

you brought your leg up, twirling in the air with ease and watched your heel collide with midoriya’s face. he grunted, stumbling back.

you were about to charge in again when a hand landed on your shoulder, big and rough. you turned to see bakugou standing behind you, a scowl on his face.

“fight me again,” he demanded.

“excuse me?”

“don’t act like you didn’t hear me.”

“i’m in the middle of fighting midoriya right now.”

“so?”

“so if you think that i’m just going to ditch my friend because you want to fight, i won’t.”

“you’re being stubborn.”

“i’m being reasonable. back off.”

“y/n?” midoriya rubbed his jaw—right where you had struck him. “what’s going on?” he jogged up to you and bakugou.

“he wants to fight me in the middle of our fight. it’s nothing serious. don’t worry about it, midoriya. let’s just ignore him.”

bakugou made a sound someone would only make if they were choking. “the hell did you just say?”

“we’re ignoring you!” you waved him off and placed your hand on midoriya’s shoulder, wandering away.

it was new to him, not getting what he wanted. and what he wanted right now was to be around you. again, it wasn’t like he would ever admit that to himself.

“dude? you good? i thought you went off to fight y/n. i was so ready to cheer you on, dude,” kirishima’s chipper voice piped in. “she’s not fighting with you? why not?”

“the dumbass was just probably scared of getting her ass beat by me.”

“dude...that sounds really weird.”

“whatever, shitty hair. let’s go.”

the clock ticked. his ears were on fire. again.

gosh, it was happening again. it was all you. his face scrunched up, his voice would surely crack if someone were to ask him what was wrong.

bakugou was once again stuffing his face in his pillow, hiding his expression from no one. why did you have to go train with that shitty nerd? why were you always around deku? deku, of all people. what did he have? why was he so great?

bakugou was a man of many insecurities, but losing to deku? that was possibly his biggest fear.

perhaps he wasn’t the nicest, or the most soft person out there. bakugou could admit that, at least. but he was smarter than deku. he was stronger and he was better and people liked him more. right?

what was so...amazing about deku?

it was often bakugou would find himself obsessing over little, insignificant things such as these.

you were what he was thinking of most of the time. just yesterday, he’d gotten a test returned. he was expecting an eighty at the lowest, but more so expecting a high ninety. it’d come back exactly sixty percent.

sixty. percent.

bakugou vividly remembered staring at your face. he also remembered not being able to focus because of it. his grades were dropping because of you.

you were the only person to be able to do this to him.

his heart grew quiet, but the pounding of his didn’t cease. he lifted his head.

“alright, fine,” he said aloud. “you win, y/n. you win.”

he settled with getting over his feelings the way he’d read them in his collection of romance manga.

bakugou left his room and knocked on your door. (he was banging on it, but it was his nice way of knocking.)

you answered, looking around awkwardly. “yes?”

his hands shook. how was this supposed to go? sure, he’d seen it in romance movies and read it in books but it was always easy to tell whether the guy would get the girl or not.

in this instance, bakugou was clueless. for once in his life, he was clueless. you stood, tapping your foot with a hand on your hip, waiting expectantly for him to tell you why he was here.

“um.” he scratched behind his neck. “you uh- i uh...i’m sorry i called you a, um...a shitface.”

“okay? is that it?”

what? come on! it was already unlike him to apologize. what else did you want from him?

“did you...i’ve been thinking, maybe? maybe we could..train together as...friends?”

“...what?”

gosh dammit, as friends?

“whatever, um...the uh...” oh gosh, what did the boys do in all the books he’d read? right! bakugou stretched out his arm, resting his forearm on the door, leaning to the side.

although he didn’t, really, because like the clumsy jackass he was, bakugou missed completely and nearly toppled to the floor.

this earned a snicker from you.

his stomach flipped and churned, and bakugou found himself unable to reach your eyes. “uh, would you maybe..? okay, um. do you want to go on a date with me? you absolute fucking dumbass.”

your eyes flew wide. “...what?”

“no, that’s not what i— i mean i didn’t mean the last part. um, i meant the first part. the first two parts. the part where i was asking you if you wanted to go on a date with me and then before that when i said maybe because it’s still a maybe until you say yes. or...or no because that’s an option too.”

he swallowed.

you resisted the urge to mock him, just a little bit. “um, bakugou, listen.”

he leaned closer. “yes?”

“it’s going to be a no. i’m sorry, but i’m just not interested in you like that.”

it took him a moment to register everything. his shoulders sagged. gosh that was brutal.

“oh, alright.”

“yeah, uh, sorry about that.” you offered him a weak smile, still a bit shocked yourself. he did his best to return it, and when you closed the door, his face was ready to explode.

it was so damn difficult to deal with these feelings, but maybe it was better this way. knowing where you stood on your end, he knew he wouldn’t miss out on anything.

perhaps it was alright to admire from afar. things could happen in the future, right?

right now, he’d just wait. for a long, long time. bakugou pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat. maybe it was alright to not have you right now. perhaps he could better himself for you. just for you.

333 notes · View notes

mystic-kitten-writer · 3 years ago

Note

Omg smut pls 😭, i’ve been starved from yue zuko smut i keep reading pls chapters!

Here it is- I have to get back into the groove of smut writing, so here's my baby step 👀

Also, this was an ask I got a while back, in relation to Yue's heat smut I wrote. I was trying to find the original ask but I can't find it, but anon, this is for you 🥵

Love you babes, and take care~

AU: Limerence (A/B/O AU)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem. OC (Ying Yue Jiang)

LINKS: 01

Masterlist

Ruts weren't a foreign concept to Zuko.

More often than not, proving a nuisance.

A quick jerk, drowning himself in paperwork, often did the trick for the week. But this time? Zuko swore, his head dropping and hair cascading downwards like a curtain as his fist slammed against the wooden bed frame.

He was sweating despite wearing nothing more but loose-hanging slacks, the windows open and allowing a breeze to enter. But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.

It was like his skin was prickling, senses in over-drive as goosebumps rose along his skin. Heavy pants, Zuko's chest rising and falling like he just ran a marathon - fighting the urge to trail his hand down his torso, imagining how cool her fingertips would feel against his burning skin. Her nails tracing every divot of his skin as her touch sank lower, the shiver that ran up his spine.

Always so shy, so submissive; on her knees like the good girl she was, playing with the band of his pants with glossy lips, swollen from her eager nibbles. Her doe-like eyes were staring up at him with a lust that could challenge his before moaning his name with a hunger.

"Fuck." Zuko growled, his toes pressing onto the wooden floor.

A ticking time bomb, groaning as the mere sensation of his pants rubbing against his hard cock had him cracking. His eyes rolled, a temporary relief as his heavy palm fell over himself. A shaky jerk over the fabric, grabbing his length, and he could feel the thick drop of cum leaking from his tip.

He was throbbing, pulse rushing, and skin dewy as his testing jerks grew in intensity. The uncontrollable groans that tumbled from his lips, bucking into his touch to seek more pleasure. So fucking desperate to tip over that edge for the first time since his bloody rut started.

But it wasn't enough; it was never fucking enough.

No matter how fast his hand moved, his thumb brushing the crown of his dick as he teased himself. It was like a fucking wall, blocking him right before he could fall over the sweet edge. The coil that twisted deep in his gut, his cock growing as he so desperately wanted to cum as Zuko's groans grew in volume.

So close, so fucking close every time but-

The shout of frustration as Zuko's fists slammed against the bed frame for the nth time this day because he was losing it. His rut was testing his patience beyond belief because Zuko knew; that even if he jerked himself off, he wouldn't be able to get off.

His nails were intending the wood as defeat, rage coursed through his veins. He was in so much distress, sexual frustration at its fucking finest as his balls felt heavy, and his cock begged him to get off just once.

But he can't unless-

"I need, Yue," Zuko wheezed, a haze falling over his mind because the whole room smelt of her.

A drug, and Zuko was sure he was currently overdosing.

How beautiful she'll look.

Yue's body sprawled on the bed, littered with bites marks from the inside of her thighs to breasts. Zuko able to look down over her body, watching as his cock would so easily slip into her needy cunt. His thumb strumming her sensitive clit with heat, the uncontrollable twitches from Yue's body as he would draw orgasm after orgasm from her.

A beautiful breeding toy for his sick entertainment. Yue's cries of bliss music to his ears; fuel for his insatiable lust.

Yue's tight walls milking and driving him to ruin her, break her and claim her as his. She'll look so pretty, cum trickling from between her legs. A sticky mess as Zuko would push back whatever cum would slowly drip from her sweet pussy with his long fingers before bottoming, her belly swollen with nothing but him.

And as if the spirits were testing him, he could hear her.

It was like the call of a siren, Zuko's head snapping to their bedroom doors as a bead of sweat plopped down his temple, his lips parted as he growled.

This was dangerous; he wouldn't be able to control himself, to hold back but- the twitch from his cock, another sweet bead of pre-cum dribbling down his length and further dirtying his trousers. Envisioning Yue back on her knees and dragging her tongue along the underside of his dick before swallowing him down her throat.

"Zuko is in a rut, Princess-" Zuko heard someone whisper-shout, and he couldn't stop the twitching of his fingers listening to someone so close to his precious. A protectiveness, Zuko's body, inching itself closer to the door as his sanity slowly started slipping through his fingertips.

"But he needs me, Sokka! Let me in!" Yue cried.

Oh, those sweet cries of her squirting around his fingers as he fingerfucked her on his lap. Maybe he could have her sitting right up against the mirror so she can watch herself cum as his fingers curled inside of her.

No. Yue leave, Zuko begged mentally as he hissed under his breath, taking in that he was currently forcing himself not to rip open their bedroom door and draw her inside.

"Zuko said to keep you, out" Sokka reasoned, but Zuko could hear the determined pout on Yue's lips. Lips that would look so good around Zuko's length. Gagging as he seized her long locks and fucked her mouth, his hips snapping-

Zuko didn't even realize what he was doing until he saw Sokka and Yue before him. The both of them staring up at him like prey that had just been caught, each holding their breath.

"Zuko-" Sokka would blow, but it was fruitless.

Zuko's eyes locked with Yue; pupils blown as he stared at Yue with a wanting that even had Yue quivering in her spot. But despite the pregnant pause that fell over them, Zuko licked his lips because he could see.

The gulp Yue took as she nibbled on her lip, her fingers toying with the front of her dress as a flush painted over her skin. And Zuko swears he could taste Yue in the air. So luscious and delicate.

"Zuko?" Yue would rustle, her hands reaching out to caress his bare chest, but with a wince, Zuko rose his hands, stopping her. His mind was racing, but he knew the moment Yue's skin touched his, he would be far too gone to control. The hungry looks Yue sent him alone were close enough to make him lose it completely, her eyes studying his physique as Zuko combed his hair back.

"Yue, we need to go now," Sokka warned, fast to grab her, but the snarl Zuko unleashed at Sokka had everyone stilling.

It was a warning, the only indication Zuko would give to Sokka because the thought of Yue having another scent on her besides his had him boiling with fury. If only Zuko could have his way, mate her, maybe have her walk around the kingdom every day with his cum dripping from her core to make a damn point.

"I'll make this quick, love." Zuko finally spoke, voice rasped.

His throat felt dry as he fought with the last of his willpower not to pin Yue against the door and fuck her senseless in the hallway. The fact that he was sporting the most prominent hard-on, in view of everyone, didn't even bother him.

Zuko's mind was hyper-focused on Yue. Every time she breathed or blinked, it didn't go ignored by Zuko. And he took a dangerous step forward, his frame towering over her. In seconds, Yue found herself cornered against the door and him, Zuko placing his hands on either side of her face.

"Zuko." Yue questioned, and Zuko spoke, "This is your only warning, love. You run off and stay far, far, away from me. Or-"

"Or?" Yue perked with a curious simper.

"I claim you, no holding back cause I intend to break you." Zuko hushed, and Yue merely giggled.

Such a light-hearted giggle that despite the overwhelming hormones of his heat, Zuko found himself taken aback. It was so out of place, but the way Yue's eyes shined as she looked up at him, continuing to nibble on her lip and batting her eyelashes.

"Break me, Zuko," Yue whispered, and Zuko's eyes shut with a shaky breath as he felt her fingers run down his chest.

Every fantasy, dirty thought that ran through his mind was now coming to life as her soft lips pressed against his, "Claim me like how I claimed you."

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters besides any original characters I have created.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

349 notes · View notes

wardenannie · 3 years ago

Note

Hurt Levi pls

I normally don't take tumblr prompts, but for you, anon whose identity is a total mystery to me, I will accept

NSFW under the cut. Also warning for some torture that happens about midway through. Nothing too graphic tho.

Kenny captured him as they dueled in the streets of the capital. Levi didn't see the net coming until it was too late. His eyes were locked on the gunslinger, body moving like water as he spun past bullet after bullet, slate eyes trained on Kenny's exposed jugular.

When the net struck him it took his balance with it, and he tumbled two stories to the ground, confused in a pile of weights and rope. He landed with a sickening crunch, the right side of his body slamming brutally into the paving stones.

Levi was stunned, body wracked with agony as his broken bones screamed in complaint.

He could hear his squad calling out for him; "Heichou!" But he could not make out their faces as his vision blurred and dark shadows began to loom over him.

One of those shadows- the tallest, the most menacing- laughed, and then spat in his face. Kenny.

"Gotcha, runt," Levi could hear the sneer in his voice, words dripping with the venom of sordid joy. He struggled, breath coming ragged as panic began to set in.

"Knock him out," Kenny ordered.

A sharp pain radiated up the side of Levi's skull, then everything went black.

He awoke in a dark cell, suspended by iron manacles that dug harshly into his wrists. His shirt was gone, body coated in a fine sheen of cold sweat that shimmered in the dim light of a single, paltry torch.

Levi's head throbbed painfully. The right side of his body was mottled with blue-black bruises. It hurt to breathe, to blink, to think.

But Levi was a survivor, so he pushed through the pain, recalling everything that had brought him to this point. He remembered battling on the streets of the capital. He remembered Kenny shouting his name boisterously. He remembered Nifa's brains being splattered across the rooftops, and he remembered falling, and falling, and falling.

"Shit," he cursed, and he pulled at his restraints. The movement only served to dig the metal more painfully into his flesh, fresh blood running hot down his forearms.

Levi drew in a ragged, fortifying breath, then shouted with all of his remaining might, "Kenny!"

The low tenor of his voice echoed through the subterranean dungeon. A peppering of dust fell from the rafters, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Panting, chest heaving as he bit through another full body wave of pain, he shouted again, louder, with more power and rage behind the name; "KENNY!"

His muscles went limp, body hanging weakly from his shackles, toes dragging on the filthy floor. Everything hurt. It hurt so much. Every fiber of his being seemed to be crying out in red hot pain. His head throbbed, eyes pulsing in his skull. There was a constant pressure in his chest, digging into his lung, a broken rib, more like than not.

Levi huffed a broken sound, hanging his head. He was useless like this, strung up like a fresh kill. He shut his eyes, waiting helplessly for his fate to arrive.

Hange would come for him. He knew she would.

He recalled their parting moment, the people she had loaned him, the people he had gotten killed. He remembered the trust she had placed upon him, that had swirled behind those wine-colored eyes, and somehow he felt even more broken.

"Hange..." He sighed her name, lids fluttering.

He'd been so caught up in his memories that he hadn't heard the telling sound of footsteps on the bricks. Two grizzled, calloused hands gripped the bars mockingly.

Kenny grinned at him from the darkness of the corridor, freshly shaven. Face porous and lined and aged.

"Hey there, runt," he goaded, fingers drumming softly on the bars. Two more people appeared beside him, men, their faces obscured behind black torturer's hoods. Their black eyes flashed menacingly in the torchlight.

"We have a few questions for ya," Kenny produced a key from around his neck and slipped it into the lock. The heavy, barred door opened with a metallic shriek and a muffled kerthunk. He slipped into the cell, body long, thin and skeletal. Behind him the two torturers followed.

Now that they stood in the light Levi could see that they wore the instruments of his torture across their bodies like bandoliers. The knives and scalpels and scrapers all gleamed orange by the light of the torch.

Levi swallowed thickly, giving another weak pull at his shackles.

"Now," Kenny's smile never waned. He laced his fingers behind his back, standing up straight and proud. "Are ya gonna cooperate? Or will we have to do this the hard way."

Levi's lips curled into a snarl. They wanted Hange's location, the location of his squad.

They could rot in hell.

He demonstrated as much by spitting onto the floor in front of Kenny's boot.

"Fuck off."

Kenny puffed his cheeks amusedly, and took a small step backward to make way for the torturers.

"These fellows are good at what they do," Kenny explained softly as they began to pluck their implements from their chests. "They were loaned to me by the king himself."

Levi bared his teeth, refusing to give Kenny anything more than his ire.

Kenny cracked his knuckles, smile shifting to lopsided and entertained, "Alright then, let's begin."

Levi stayed strong. Through it all, he endured. He kept his lips sealed, biting on them until they bled like his exposed nailbeds, like the parallel lines they drew across his belly with their razor sharp knives. He endured when they began breaking nailess toes, and he endured when they moved on to his fingers, peeling the skin back to the first knuckle.

His blood painted the floor in crimson-black drips. His grunts of agony echoed through the dungeon halls in a torturous symphony.

"Where is Hange Zoe?" Kenny asked, obviously beginning to grow exasperated.

Levi showed his teeth, red with blood, red dripping from his nose, "Never." He choked, tasting rust in his mouth. He would die before he gave Hange up. It was her face that lingered in the back of his mind, that bolstered his resolve against their blunted rods as they beat his already broken ribs.

He remembered her smile. Her laughter. They way she smirked when she teased him over his height and cleanliness. He remembered her touch, the fire she awoke inside of him, in his skin.

He remembered Hange. His Hange. And he endured.

Eventually they left him alone. Making sure to snuff out the torch as they went, Levi dangled weakly in the dark. The only sounds were that of his own breathing and his blood dripping steadily onto the floor.

His vision began to fade, sounds growing distant, as though he were submerged beneath dark waves of white hot water. He struggled to breathe, to keep his eyes open.

Ultimately his struggle was in vain. He fell into viscous, black unconsciousness.

Hange Zoe had never before known fear like this; this terrible, gripping thing that settled in her chest and constricted around her lungs like a parasitic snake. It radiated outward from her center, down her limbs and into her fingertips, numbing them as she gripped the triggers of her ODM gear.

He had to be alive. He had to be.

How would she survive if Levi were gone. What would she do? She couldn’t imagine it, that agony which she was barely holding at bay. Were the worst to come to fruition it would surely consume her.

They busted through the doors of the anti-personnel squad compound. Shattering through them with a battering ram, shards of broken wood raining down on the occupants of the adjacent room; splintering and slicing them.

Hange grabbed the first man she saw by his collar, hoisting him into the air as her muscles burned. She pressed the edge of her blade to his throat, flashing her teeth, vision blurring red with complete and utter rage.

“Where is he?!”

Moblit and Levi squad apprehended the others in the room. Binding their hands and feet. Hange simply wanted them dead.

The man dangled in the air, grasping weakly at Hange’s wrist where she held him aloft, “I- I um...”

“Spit it out or you won’t have a tongue to speak with!” Hange demanded, pressing her blade more insistently to his throat.

“D-downstairs,” he pointed towards a door with a shaking finger.

Hange grunted and threw him roughly down onto the floor, leaving him to the rest of the squad. She rushed for the doors, prying a torch off of the wall as she descended into the dark depths of the dungeon.

Let him be alive, she chanted to herself. Please, whatever gods there may be, let him be alive.

Kenny was nowhere to be found. The fighting upstairs cleared quickly and soon all of Levi squad was trailing the Section Commander through the dark labyrinth.

It only took another few moments for them to discover him hanging by his wrists in the dark. He was filthy, covered in blood, sweat, and bruises. His eyes were closed, chest barely rising with stilted breath.

“Levi!” Hange rasped, gripping the bars. “What did they do to him?”

She ground her teeth to the point of pain, leaning all of her weight into the bars like she could bend them through sheer force of will alone. The sight of his blood pooling on the floor made her stomach twist, her heart ache. Her mouth was dry and a salient mixture of horror and utter rage pooled in her center.

Armin was already working on the lock. But it wasn’t fast enough.

Hange shoved him out of the way and slammed one of her blades down into the rusty lock mechanism over and over. It creaked, shuddered, and then cracked in two under the force of her assault.

Leaving the rest of the squad in the dust, Hange rushed to Levi’s side, wrapping her arms tenderly around his waist and lifting him so his wrists were no longer being cut by the shackles.

“Hange,” he choked her name weakly, then spit blood onto the yellow of her shirt. His slate eyes were hooded and distant, dissociative from the pain.

Armin and Mikasa were working on his restraints.

“I’m here,” Hange breathed, careful only to touch him where she had to. “I’m here.”

She wanted to scream at the sight of him. His body was a warzone; brutalized, left sallow and broken. His skin was clammy, breath tinged with the scent of blood.

“Levi...” she exhaled shakily, and finally the manacles came lose and Levi crumpled into her arms. He buried his face against her neck, and she heard him inhale sharply, painfully.

Hange bit her lip, cupping the back of his head, stroking his greasy hair gingerly.

Moblit cupped her shoulder gently, his eyes wide with concern, “Section Commander, we need to go.”

Hange nodded, lifting Levi protectively into her arms. She wouldn’t let anyone help her. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone touching him but her. She guarded him carefully all the way back to their hideout, keeping his head nestled safely in her lap as their cart wheeled bumpily along the city streets.

Hange treated his wounds as best she could. She wrapped his tortured fingers and stitched the wounds in his abdomen. She tied his broken toes to unbroken ones and gave him water each hour on the hour. As for his bruises? She could only hope that they were not set too deeply into his muscles and organs. She could only caress delicate fingers over his cheek and pray to whatever merciful gods might exist that he would come out of this trial relatively unscathed.

Though he would always bare the scars. Reminders of her own failure to protect him; the man she...

She utterly refused to leave his side, not even to report to Erwin. She sent Moblit in her stead.

And how could she leave him? Her Levi? Her partner in crime? How could she possibly rationalize leaving his side when he was so close to death, when she had nearly lost him.

She cried softly at night, sat up against a stark brick wall, just feet away from the Captain. She cried because she realized for the first time that she really, truly loved this man. She loved him with each individual fiber of her imperfect being. She loved him, and she had nearly lost him.

Levi had nearly died.

“I feel so helpless,” she whispered, blinking back her tears. “Levi, I’m so sorry. If I had just gotten there sooner you might not-

“Shut it, four-eyes,” Levi groused painfully, blinking to wakefulness. His voice was groggy, eyes blurry, but he still managed to reach out and touch Hange. He laid his bandaged had over her own.

“You’re awake,” Hange exhaled in relief, and she leaned over him slightly, scooting nearer. She could feel the reassuring heat of his body, watch the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Did you...” Levi let out a painful wheeze when he tried to rise onto his elbows. Hange gently coaxed him back into the sheets. “Did you treat me?”

Hange nodded, sniffing, “I did. We’re still in hiding so we couldn’t call on any actual doctors.”

Levi swallowed thickly, wounded fingers curling gingerly around her own, “Is Kenny dead?”

“No, he wasn’t there when we raided the compound.”

“Shit.”

“Levi...” Hange leaned closer, looming over him. Her eyes flashed with genuine concern. Her throat suddenly felt too tight, too hot.

Levi went very still, and for a long moment they simply stared, gazing into one another’s eyes. There was a spark of recognition in Levi’s grey as he reconciled the emotion swirling in Hange’s russet irises.

“Hange...”

She kissed him, leaning carefully over his body and sealing their lips in a wet, tearful kiss. Her tongue traced along his lower lip, and he granted her entrance with a soft moan, mimicking her action in turn. Hange cupped his cheek, thumb brushing along his chin.

When they parted a soft sob wracked through Hange’s body, breath tickling along Levi’s parted lips, tears peppering his cheeks.

“I almost lost you,” Hange choked.

Slowly, Levi raised his good arm and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for another; slower, more reverent kiss.

Hange shifted her position over Levi’s body as their tongues and lips worked in tandem. She straddled his left thigh, her own thigh pressing very near to the crux of his legs where he was obviously hard, wearing only a thin pair of sleep pants that Hange had scrounged for him.

“You almost died,” she said when they parted again. Then she peppered his face with kisses from his forehead to his chin. “I almost lost you, Levi.”

“We’re soldiers,” Levi spoke, but there was no conviction behind his words. “Soldiers die.”

Hange shook her head, more tears welling. She bit her lip painfully, and when she opened her mouth to speak only a pained noise managed to eek past her lips.

“I knew that you would come for me,” Levi admitted after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “I knew you’d be the one.”

Hange nodded fiercely, then kissed him again. Her fingertips teased along the waistband of his pants, and he hummed in silent consent. Hange needed this, they needed this. This kairotic moment to which they had been building for years. This physical expression of their shared need, desires, and- though they did not give it voice- their love. All of it precipitating from such exquisite pain as nearly losing one another.

When she sank down onto him is was with a soft sigh. He filled her up, made her feel whole in a way she had never known she was missing. She was careful of his broken body, setting a slow, even pace that drove the both of them mad.

“Hange,” Levi whispered her name. His bandaged hands lifted to hold her hips as she rode him.

“I love you,” she admitted, ducking her face to hide behind her hair. “I love you and I almost lost you, Levi.”

Tears continued to pepper his face and chest as they made love, Hange gliding gracefully back and forth on him. He even managed to cant his hips slightly to meet her, drawing a quiet moan past her lips.

They reached climax quickly, peaking together in a moment which Hange could only describe as one of pure light.

Afterwards she tucked herself into his good side, head resting on his shoulder, cum dripping between her thighs.

“I love you, short stuff. I love you so much it hurts. And to see you so broken, in so much pain... I can’t.” The tears were flowing again, dampening the sheets.

“Easy,” he touched her hair. “I’m alive, four-eyes. You saved me.”

“Not before-

“Hey, enough of that shit,” Levi demanded, though his voice was soft. He inclined his head to kiss Hange’s hair. “I’m alive four eyes. I’m alive because you came for me.”

Hange blinked away her tears and nuzzled into Levi’s neck. Muffled against his skin she breathed, “I love you.”

Levi closed his eyes. Body still aching, in tatters, but with Hange by his side he felt as though everything might turn out okay.

He loved her, too.

#levihan #my writing

82 notes · View notes

leoprosy · 2 years ago

Text

Monster High Live Action THOTS

welcome to thots :)

im ur host leonidas thotticus and today we are talking Monster High: The Movie (2022) with some spoilers ! it is all OPINION and only on the viewing of the movie versus my own MH opinions. Mostly on character portrayal and designs! and i had fun writing this lol

tbhh honestly i am not a good critic because a movie that entertains me is a good movie.

I think the best viewing experience is thinking of it as separate from the original because they aren't the same, and comparing them is kind of pointless, and i'll try to not do that but it is hard.

I'm only giving opinions here cause I haven't done any research besides like scrolling the tag on tumblr lol.

My fave was Frankie, obviously. Nonbinary, neurodivergent representation!! I felt very seen, and represented!! I wish i was that cool in high school! They're full of knowledge, don't really know social rules (and even comment on the fact that there seems to be this rule book that everyone but them has read) and man MOOD. I love their outfits, they are the right amount of ugly that i personally love to sport and yeah <3 big love for Frankie.

Draculaura made me kinda :/ initially because she's kinda a bitch at the beginning. but! she isnt meant to be G1 Draculaura! I wish she was kinder but she comes around. I really related to having parents that have insane expectations of you (the whole 'a 92% is failing' thing was like. wow mood.) and not wanting to let them down so you aren't your full self around them? heart breaking. love u draculaura. also loved that Dracula was a little pink lol.

Clawdeen was alright. Her actress was very um.... Disney in the 2000s acting wise. But like it wasn't bad! I think the half human half werewolf thing has the potential to be cool but they were really fast to be like 'hey we actually are cool with humans!' and outed Clawdeen which is weird like? i feel like the other students weren't just gonna be accepting immediately. Like, idk way to put a target on her. Her outfits were definitely not the most fashionable but i did like some of them! Also the ears were really cool :3 she also has a pretty singing voice ngl she killed it

Cleo was boring. i miss her being a mean girl who also supported her ghouls and loved them. like. she only comes around cause Clawdeen saved her? also dont understand Deuce's reasons for leaving her? were they bullies together and he didn't want to be anymore? i think that's what i got from that? wack.

Ghoulia also wasn't given very much screentime, and they took away the whole zombie genius thing!! which sucks cause i really liked that she was so smart even though people couldn't understand her all the time. But!! Cleo and the ghouls could and always trusted her!! she was such a side character in this movie. I get that maybe they didnt have the budget for the other characters to have bigger storylines or whatever and thats cool. I hope they do more with everyone in the animated show, cause it seems like it follows the same lore as the movie thus far.

Deuce actually still very swaggy even though he looks like Jughead. I miss his sunglasses cause how tf do normal glasses protect people !?!?! maybe they explained it and i missed it

Heath :( my poor flamey boy. :( the cgi was so bad. and he barely did anything. but again, not enough budget and time whatever. pls more heath in the show <3

I loved Bloodgood but her jacket was like. so cheap looking. the lining stuff on the collar was so weird? like they didn't completely cover it? and the buttons were weird? idk it didnt vibe with me.

Mr. Komos did look like Jackson and then wound up being Hyde's son which is cool! fun twist! easy to see coming but still interesting i think. His full monster design was kinda funny though. like not super scary. the power to take other monster's powers?? pretty sick ngl.

Some of the outfits were boring, some of them were alright and fun even! Frankie's were my favorite obvs. I think they gave Draculaura a darker aesthetic which is cool and witchy but i also hope they bring back some of the more like dainty victorian looks to kinda idk? balance it? clash a little in a good way? they were more modern designs for sure and i get that, and that it wasn't ever going to be as alternative and gothic as the original and thats okay! i think they could've done more but hey. budget i guess.

OVERALL

it was as cheesy and goofy and plot-hole ridden as any other MH movie I've seen. Was it a Cinematic Masterpiece? No. Was it pretty okay? yeah! fun, silly, definitely a kids movie I would've enjoyed as a kid. I'd say if you're gonna watch it- pirate it! and maybe don't go in thinking you're gonna hate it cause then i mean, yeah you're gonna hate it. it isnt G1, don't expect it to be.

thank u for coming to my thots, i might do this more often because its fun :) there are lots of movies i've never seen that everyone ever has seen so maybe? i'll do that! idk like and subcscribes

#leo thots #leonidas thotticus #monster high live action #monster high spoilers

2 notes · View notes

omegawolverine · 4 years ago

Text

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

62 notes · View notes

dayseternal-blog · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Days! I'm a huge fan of your work and your tumblr blog bc you give so many naruhina fanfic recs and talk about your stories, etc.

To sum it up, you're my favorite person lol, I'm a bit shy so I'm asking this as an anon, but I wanted to tell you something random just because I've always just thought about it and maybe you would agree or comment on it.

Have you ever listened to mitski? If you haven't I recomend you do bc she's amazing, but anyways I was listening to a song of hers called "washing machine heart" and it reminded me of naruhina, like the fic "together you and I" but different you know, like naruto only married hinata because he couldn't have sakura, she was his second option and every time he looked at her he wished and pretended it was Sakura, so Hina tries her hardest to look pretty and try to be the person he wants, always getting saddend by the idea that she isn't the one he wants, she knows his heart will only belong to Sakura. She let's him trample all over her heart and use her because she loves him unconditionally, maybe cry to her on some nights because he longs for Sakura's love that will never come.

I've read so many fanfics and I've never encountered one using this concept, I'd write it myself, but I'm not good at writing, maybe I'm reaching but it could inspire an angst story made by you or just a prompt or idea/concept for anyone to use. The hurt in this could be inmaculate and I bet a good writer could bring everyone to tears if they read a story like this. You don't have to do anything ofc I'll love you either way, I'm not meaning to push you to write a whole story with this concept by any means or to even post this ask, it's just something I made up/ related to this certain song, so I wanted you to see it, perhaps share your opinion or thoughts on it or just think about it. I love pain a lot hahaha bc I'm not a narusaku shipper in any way, I actually dislike the ship a lot.

Thank you for reading this and pls keep up the awesome work!! I'll always be a fan and support you and your spectacular writing❤️❤️

GAH What an awful fic idea you have 💔

“The Ring that Binds” by softwind - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Incomplete. Naruto and Hinata are married. So why is Naruto calling “Sakura” in his sleep?

“Girl No 10″ by meeiwen - Rated M, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. Naruto makes a mistake with a dancer one drunk night. Years later when he meets her again, he begins realizing his perfect life is a lie, but he’s too late to fix it.

And

“Territorial” by @bunny-hoodlum - Rated M, High school AU, Multi-chapter, Complete. When Hinata takes advantage of Naruto’s desperation for love, they’re both a little too much for the other to handle.

Are similar to what you have there.

HERE’S MY VERY QUICK AND INCOMPLETE STAB AT YOUR PROMPT IT’S UNEDITED UNREVISED CANON-DIVERGENT AU RATED T FOR LANGUAGE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I COULD COME UP WITH 😘 THEY ARE NOT MARRIED BECAUSE I WOULD BE TOO SAD

...

Naruto finally makes it to the Hokage’s office, having had trouble shaking off fangirls on his way. He can immediately tell he’s the last one there, even though it’s the eve of the Rinnegan Festival. Tense expressions greet him, the atmosphere somber.

Sakura whips her attention back to the desk before them. “Rokudaime, with all due respect, I don’t think Naruto belongs on this mission.”

Her behavior has confused him all night. First moving away from him so that Hinata would sit between them at Ichiraku when Hinata could have just sat on the other side of him. Then pushing him to follow Hinata back home. He said aloud that he’d be seeing her later, and that he wanted to catch up with everyone first, but Sakura just glared at him...

She’s been pushing him away, more and more every day, breaking his heart to smaller and smaller pieces...whether knowingly or not, he’s not sure about that, but she’s never rejected him from being her teammate on a mission.

Worried, he meets Kakashi’s gaze.

“I understand your concern, Sakura.” His tone is heavy. His usual careless attitude nowhere in sight. “Call it just my gut-feeling...you’re going to need Naruto’s strength for this mission.”

Hanabi was kidnapped.

Hiashi and Hinata are nowhere to be found.

“What do you mean...?” Naruto finds himself asking. “I just saw her. We just saw her. Not even an hour ago.”

“When Sai reported Hanabi’s kidnapping, believe me, Naruto, we moved to notify her family immediately. Anbu can’t find them.”

“What?” The last memory he has of Hinata abruptly leaving dinner and running off without hardly a word nags at him, inexplicably tightening his chest. “She’s fine. Hinata’s strong. She can take on anybody. No one would dare-”

“Naruto,” Sakura interrupts, her gaze cutting sharp. “She’s nowhere to be found. And as much as you believe that, no one is invincible. Not even Hinata. We need to form a plan, otherwise we’re losing precious time.”

“No one is invincible. Not even Hinata.”

An emptying numbness invades his insides, discomforting slickness muting him.

This isn’t his fault, is it?

What if she needed to tell him something?

She was acting strange at Ichiraku.

Quiet, unusual for her as of recent...

But how was he supposed to notice? Should he have followed after her, like Sakura said? But they were supposed to meet at his apartment later on anyway, so why did she have to come out early like that and ruin the good time he was having? She knows how he hasn’t given up on Sakura.

She knows everything about him. She’s been his rock after Sakura tried to shut him down for good. So how can it be that she’d just disappear? There’s no way.

There’s just no way that she disappeared right after she left...

Hours.

Hours of wandering around in abandoned, desolate, war-stricken villages in god-knows-where, and nothing. No one.

He’s asking for the hundredth time, but he doesn’t care, he’s past the point of desperation, and anxiety-laced tension fills the air. “Taku, you really don’t see anything?!” The Hyuuga they have on their team led them into this godforsaken wasteland.

Taku turns on him aggressively, getting in his face in reaction, and yells, “What about you?? You think I’m not trying my best?! This is my family! Just because you’re Hinata’s boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re any more worried than the rest of us! You don’t sense her??”

No. He doesn’t.

His Sage Mode has never been so useless. In fact, he senses no one besides them in this place, and it’s with terrible unease that he begins to entertain the thought that she’s gone for good.

“There’s no one even here besides us! Nothing! Why’d you take us down here? Where are we even?! How do we get out of here in the first place?!” he argues back.

“Sakura-san was right! You don’t belong on this mission! I don’t know what Hinata-sama could ever see in you, I haven’t seen her smile in months!”

“What do you mean by that?! She smiles all the time! I’ve never seen her act so cheerful in my life!”

“So you fucking know it, too!” Taku glares at him with an incredulous expression. “That she’s just acting!”

“What the hell do you mean by that-”

And he doesn’t know what happened next, but Sai’s grabbing onto Taku and he himself is locked in Shikamaru’s shadow manipulation. Chakra’s sparking off his own hands, while blue embers warp along Taku’s.

“Calm down,” Shikamaru orders both of them. “We’re not getting anywhere if the two of you keep fighting.” He waits for Taku to loosen his stance.

Sai lets go of him.

Taku throws an insulting glare around before sauntering off.

Shikamaru sighs. Hard. “Go cool your head, Naruto.” He retracts his shadow, and Naruto wastes no time walking off in the opposite direction, far from wherever Taku is heading.

Yet Taku’s ridiculous words ring in his head. “That she’s just acting.”

But she said that she’s happy to be with him. That she doesn’t mind that he’s still in love with Sakura. She said that she’s just happy to be with him.

She said that. She did. And she wouldn’t lie to him, right?

She was just acting?

“You’re not going to finish your ramen?” he asked her on their date last month.

“No...” Suddenly, she smiled brightly, something she’s been doing more often ever since he mentioned that he’s always liked how genki Sakura is. “Do you want the rest of mine? I’m dieting.”

He scrunched his eyebrows at her. “Dieting? Why?”

“Well...” She looked thoughtful for a moment before seeming to come to a decision. “Naruto-kun, you like thin girls, right?”

He knew she was talking about Sakura. “...I guess...”

“I want to make you happy,...” she started. She bit her lips for a hesitating moment before continuing, “so I’ve been trying to lose a little weight.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to make of that. Unbidden, he looked her over.

“Can you tell?” she asked, her characteristic shyness lowered her lashes, yet she didn’t fidget under his examination, and he could tell how she was trying her best to have that confident persona he admires in his former teammate.

Despite her recent changes in attitude, Hinata’s still been so physically small compared to himself and everyone else. Under her jacket, he couldn’t tell if she looked skinnier or not, and even if she was, he doesn’t think she really needed to be skinnier.

But then she looked up at him with that heavy, hopeful weight in her gaze, and he couldn’t let her down. Not when she’s trying so hard for his approval.

He fibbed easily. “Yeah. You look really good.”

She shined another smile at him that made him feel good. Even if their relationship wasn’t traditional, he could at least still make her happy. He could at least tell her some sweet words and see her sweet smile and-

She was lying.

She wasn’t happy?

He never made her happy?

Then what was the point of any of it?

No, she must have been happy, right?! She said so! She told him so! Many, many times!

After all, he asked her. All of those times he thought she was faking her smile, he asked just to make sure, and she vehemently told him that she was really happy to be with him.

She said he could talk to her about all of it. That she could take on his heartbreak because her feelings were so much bigger than...

“Uzumaki Naruto.”

The unfamiliar voice has him leaping to his feet.

A man as pale as a ghost with piercingly icy eyes is floating down to him on some strange platform. “You’re really as pitiful as I expected.”

“Who the hell are you?!” He readies his stance. He’s not in any mood for games, and he’s ready to let loose some of his stress on this very suspicious character.

“Hinata’s fiance.”

“Hinata?!” Fire races through his veins, heating his feet, and he’s ready to leap at this guy. “Where is she?!”

“With me.”

His heart rate exponentially explodes, beating into his ears, his skin practically bristling. “Let her go,” he demands, and the threat of his words leaks from every pore of his being. “Now.”

The man almost snorts. “What makes you think she wants to see you? You only ever used her, broke her...” His collected expression hardens, and Naruto can sense that he has no intention of releasing her. “I’ll make her happier than you ever could.”

Several thoughts fly too quickly through his mind to properly process any of it, leaving only residual uncertainty and that deepening sense of his culpability in her sudden disappearance. But he doesn’t linger on the unpleasant sensations. “What the fuck do you know?!” And he’s charging at him, a Rasengan heavy in his hand.

The enemy is far more powerful than he appeared, immediately blowing him back with some kind of focused chakra. “Weak, pathetic.”

“GIVE HER BACK!” He replicates himself a dozen times, each of them throwing Rasenshurikens at the man.

Yet more of that strange yellow chakra protects him. He’s unscathed even under his shadow clone onslaught. “No. I gave her a choice, and she came with me. I’m just here to get rid of you, take revenge against you for her sake.”

He hardly comprehends the nonsense spewing out of the enemy’s mouth, and he rallies his clones into close combat, but the man manages to avoid many of the attacks while landing hits of his own.

Clones poofing away only to be replaced by more, frustration and fury starting to blind him into sloppier and sloppier moves.

“I love Hinata. That’s why I deserve her.”

He chokes on his own breath, and in his momentary loss of concentration,...

He’s falling.

------------------------*

aaannnnd that’s as far as I want to go with that. Imagine the rest of the team arriving in time to notice Toneri making his escape toward the sky, and I guess the rest of the story would sort of follow the rest of The Last...Naruto self-reflects a lot in a bundle of depression for a long time and yeah.

...ahhh... I encourage you to write the fic you want to see in the world ❤️

#anon #thank you for thinking i could do your fic idea justice #but in the end 😅 i'm sorry that this is a letdown #i'm not much one for angst you know #who wrote white lilies not me #thank you for laying the praise on thick 🥺 don't know if i'm deserving #thank you for reading!

47 notes · View notes