#but eventually it's kind of glad it met him now instead

[cherubchoirs]

i'd love to know more about your take on v2 :]

or just see more of your art of it in general i love how you draw sm <3

YAAAAYAA i get to talk about my updated idea on v2!!! because i've done a lot of thinking on it!!

i still hold to the idea that v2 is a big dreamer and it's quite set apart from the other machines due to being trained on thousands of social protocols - even down into hell, v2 wanted to protect what was left of humanity as it was never given any other objective beyond its foundational instructions. however, i do now like the idea that v2 meant to spar with v1 in their initial encounter, somewhat naive to what its predecessor was and also just...idealistic. it was in hell, but v2 didn't fully conceptualize that in its rudimentary (at that time) sentience. upon its defeat, much of what v2 understood about the world as it perceived it was shattered - it had engaged as a "friendly" test of strength, perhaps to learn, and v1 met it with a swift, unrelenting brutality that saw it mutilated as it fled for its life. that. broke something fundamental in v2's programming. it learned this world is not about protection or learning. this world is cruel, and the cruelty of reality was packaged into v1, which it believed it had to outmatch in violence to survive. it followed that thread of logic wrapped in a deep sense of betrayal, attempting to train itself in that savagery to claim hell for its own even against supreme machines like its predecessor. because v1 must be their pinnacle, the most vile of them. yet this was contrary to what v2 was, a protector at heart, not a machine so woven into battle that it could freely absorb the pain it caused to renew itself without slowing. its rematch with v1 was always doomed, because v2 was driven to meet it where it was but never could when it was so singular as a machine meant to keep the peace. it knew when it ran a second time that it had been a fool and it was a dead man walking at that point. it never should have pursued. yet. in idealism it was destroyed...thinking at least it tried. it tried to stop v1, to stop the war from coming, it just wasn't good enough.

upon its revival, v2 is incredibly introspective and intelligent, refusing to ever again give in to cruelty. it may be in hell, it may be surrounded by desperation, but it cannot pursue that course again, even if that means searching for alternative means of fuel or constantly living on the edge of starvation. it doesn't care, it will not be molded into something it doesn't see itself as. it was made as a protector and at the very least, it will do no harm to the husks (and i think even occasionally protects them from demons or other machines). this is why i think v2 becomes a scientist of sorts - it's looking for other ways to survive, studying the mechanisms of hell, demons, husks, and angels when it gets the chance, just to see what recourse it has lest it die again (albeit on its own terms now). v2 struggles a lot at this point, coming to terms with the idea that it was an inferior by-product of v1's scrapping, only existing to recoup lost cash and almost sick with regret over how it squandered its first life. v2 is incapable of being gentle with itself, overthinking so much to the smallest degree and simply not coping well with being stuck in hell since this is so antithetical to what it is, what it feels is its heart. it has no place, not when it was made and not now that the world has ended, like it was never meant to be at all and existence itself spits it out. hell likely revived it just to make it insane.

THIS is the state it's in when it meets michael, who's initially not much more than a welcome distraction and an enormous curiosity. yet as it comes to know him (not...an easy task), it sees itself in him - michael was made to protect just as it was, and he was just as carelessly and clumsily forced to take the place of his predecessor when he was never meant to hold that role. he overthinks, a deep mind never given the chance to grow because he only ever had to do his job. and ultimately, he died due to his own foolishness, by going against his very nature. they are two beings that have never fit, not in the objective they were given or now in a world without their creators. v2, as a personality, is sharp and frank, given to a bit of teasing but highly observant in many of its remarks - it manages to cut through michael's aloofness and how he still cleaves to his title as prince of heaven. still, half of the time it makes him relent only because v2 isn't nearly as reluctant as he is to open up (v2 has wanted so deeply to be understood that holding back now would be ridiculous). its earnestness makes him begin to reciprocate and the clarity it offers without all the pretense of speaking to a high archangel makes him reconsider a whole lot about his preconceptions (plus it's very willing to disagree with him and engage in debates when needed, which a pushback michael desperately needs at this point). soon it's looking for a way they can both survive and it has a partner in that pursuit, a companion after all this time of feeling singularly left behind.

[blimpintime]

jade green prologue

azriel x reader

in which Azriel has a personal healer, and she needs to be saved.

word count: 830 words

warnings: light angst, head injury, rhys is an asshole!

unedited

Being a traveling healer meant a few things; one, knowing how to defend yourself is the most important thing next to healing. Two, paying attention to new science and healing techniques will always benefit you and your patient. Lastly, being kind to everyone you meet, will get you further than having people fear you. 

Well, for the most part. Sometimes defending yourself and staying kind contradict one another hence why you are running, no, rolling down a snowy mountain trying to outrun some bandits. 

The snow is wet and mushy, not quite the firm snow that Illriya gets further into the cold season, so you are having a hard time grasping anything to regain balance and stability. Your winter gear is starting to become soaked with the cold and wet ground you have been sliding in, and eventually, you are wet head to toe when you slide into a river with no way to slow yourself down or stop.

Your head reemerges from the frigid water rushing around you, face freezing and refreshed at the same time. The sky is a bright white reflecting off the snow on the mountain making it hard for you to see. At this point, you have no idea what direction you are even facing or heading towards, and your body is dropping its temperature rapidly. 

“Shit.” You manage to cough out, your bag of healing items now long gone in the river.

 You try swimming toward a branch you see floating near you but get swept by the current and smack your head on the branch instead, causing everything around you to go dark.

There is not much that will get a reaction of Azriel but seeing one of his close friends (who he hasn’t seen in years)  floating lifeless in the Sidra was a scenario that made his stomach drop to his feet. 

He isn’t sure how he recognized you, floating face up in the water and blueish gray, but he is glad he did because he quickly shot down to where you were and ripped your frigid body out of the painfully cold water his hands going numb with pain. Your hair glowing around your face no doubt your healing abilities trying to save your body a little, but it is clearly having a hard time considering you still have a large gash on your forehead dripping sticky blood. 

He lifts your lifeless body into his strong arms and winnows to Madja’s healers’ cabin. He feels your pulse faintly but at least it is still there. A bit of panic flushes through his body when he realizes how long you have been in this state. And then anger washes over him, who could do this to someone so kind? He thinks harshly to himself.

Where are you, brother? A voice appears in his head, Not now Rhys. He responds sharply. 

Oh, at a pleasure house? Finally, taking up my advice? Don’t forget about family dinner. Rhysand quips back in a joking tone, to which Azriel blocks him out completely. 

He could not care less about family dinner more than he did right now. You limp in his arms freezing cold with blue lips and eyes faintly closed with what looked to be ice crystals around your lashes and eyebrows. You who have saved him from the brink of death on more than one occasion. You were all that mattered in this moment. 

When Madja finally helped you in, you were lying there with your chest softly rising on the bed. He couldn’t leave your side nor did he want to. 

“It is good you found her when you did,” Madja spoke to him. “She was getting to dangerous levels of freezing. Without her abilities, I am fairly certain her blood would have frozen.” 

Azriel winced and ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t even know what she was doing here. I have never met with her in Velaris.” He responded softly.

“You know her?” Madja asked in the same tone.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, “Long time friends.” 

She nodded in response. “She should wake when she is warm enough. If there is anything else I can do just yell for me, but I will be in my office.” With that, she walks off and closes the door gently.

Azriel for once does not know what to do, sitting there feels like a waste of time when he could be hunting those down who did this to you. However, he does not want you to wake up alone and confused.

Then he thinks about how he is expected to be at family dinner with his happily mated brothers and the girl he thought he was infatuated with. He felt guilty for a moment thinking about his family being happy when you were lying here lifeless, but then felt anger towards someone he calls a brother. A pleasure house? He scoffs verbally. His soul aches for companionship but right now all that matters is when you wake up. 

a/n: it is a little guy but welcome to the prologue!

[pucksandpower]

Under the Influence

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc knows three things (1) wisdom teeth have nothing to do with being wise (2) his face looks like a chipmunk and (3) he really really really loves his girlfriend

Warnings: mention of minor medical procedure

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the nightstand. Bleary eyed, you reach for it and squint at the screen. 37 missed calls and too many texts to count, all from Charles.

It’s the big day — your boyfriend is finally getting his wisdom teeth removed this morning. You had wanted to go with him to the oral surgeon but Charles insisted he would be fine on his own.

Clearly, that was not the case.

The phone starts vibrating again and you swipe to answer. Before you can even say hello, Charles’ slurred voice comes through the speaker. “Ma choupinette! I misssss you!” He draws out the last word for several seconds. You stifle a laugh at how loopy he sounds from the painkillers.

“Hi, my love. How are you feeling?” You ask gently.

You hear some shuffling on his end of the line.

“I feel ... so good! I can’t feel my face though. Is it still there?” More shuffling noises. “Yep, still here! Wow, my cheeks are soooo big and fluffy now!” He descends into a fit of giggles.

You grin and shake your head. Your poor Charles is definitely still under the influence of the drugs. “I’m glad you’re not in any pain. Are you home already?”

“Yep! Safe and sound in my bed. But it’s so lonely without you here. You should come over and cuddle me!” His words come out muffled, no doubt because his mouth is still numb.

You glance at the clock — it’s still relatively early in the morning. “I would love to but I have a few things to take care of first. I’ll come by this afternoon to check on you though, okay?”

Charles lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fiiiiiine. Hey, did you know you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world? And you’re so nice too! I’m the luckiest ...” He trails off into incomprehensible mumbling.

You have to press your hand to your mouth to hold in your laughter. Anesthetized Charles is even more adorable than regular Charles. “Thank you, my love. You’re very kind. Now get some rest, I’ll see you soon.”

“Okayyyy, bye bye gorgeous!” Charles singsongs before hanging up. Still chuckling, you set your phone down to start getting ready for the day. Your productivity is short lived however, as your phone immediately starts buzzing again.

Charles is calling you back.

With a mix of amusement and exasperation, you answer the call. Before you can ask what’s wrong, Charles’ cheerful voice exclaims, “I forgot to tell you I love you!”

You can’t help but laugh out loud this time. “I love you too, Charles.”

“Yay!” He cheers. In the background, you hear a woman’s voice telling Charles to stay in bed and get some rest. It must be his mother looking after him. Thank goodness for her help today.

You talk Charles into hanging up and leaving you be for now. As entertaining as loopy Charles is, you do need to run some errands. You eventually make it out the door and head into town. While perusing the aisles of the grocery store, your phone buzzes again. Expecting it to be Charles, you don’t even look at the screen before answering with an amused, “Yes, my love?”

Instead of your boyfriend’s sleepy voice, you hear numerous screams and squeals on the other end. Before you can ask what’s happening, the chaos turns into a bunch of people chanting “Say it again! Say it again! Say it again!”

Your stomach drops. You pull the phone away to look at the screen. Sure enough, Charles is broadcasting on Instagram Live and waving at an alarmingly large crowd of fans gathered below his apartment. Dreading what you’re about to witness, you bring the phone back to your ear. The chanting continues until Charles finally obliges.

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you sooooo much! You’re the bestest, most bootiful, charming girl in the whole universe and I love you more than racing!” His confession is met with deafening squeals from his adoring devotees. You stand frozen in the cheese aisle, one hand clutching your grocery basket, cheeks flaming red. This is not exactly how you hoped your relationship would go public.

Charles is still slurring sluggishly into the phone, rambling on about how perfect and wonderful you are. You try to get a word in edgewise to stop him but his fans keep egging him on.

“Charles, honey, maybe you should get off Live and rest ...” you attempt feebly.

He gasps dramatically. “Wait, are you my girlfriend? Y/N? Is that you?”

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “Yes Charles, it’s me.”

The screams somehow increase in volume at this admission. Charles laughs with delight. “Guys, this is my girlfriend! Isn’t she the coolest? I’m the luckiest guy ever!”

Despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but melt a little at his ear-to-ear grin and heart eyes on the screen. He looks utterly smitten, even in his disoriented, post-op state. His fans seem to be eating it up too, flooding the comments with things like “My life won’t be complete until someone looks at me the way that Charles looks at Y/N” and “Charles is boyfriend of the year!”

You spend the next 15 minutes gently trying to persuade Charles to end the livestream and rest to no avail. He is having far too much fun gushing about you and interacting with his followers. You field a few questions from curious fans, keeping your answers light to avoid revealing too much. It’s clear they are enthralled by this lovestruck version of the normally private Ferrari driver.

Finally, after Charles has told the story of your first date no less than five times, his mother comes to your rescue. She appears on camera and tenderly tells Charles the “show” is over and he needs to sleep. He pouts adorably but allows her to tuck him back into bed and take away his phone. Just before the Live ends, he blows a loopy kiss to the camera and says “Love you, mon chouchou!” The fans go wild in the chat before the feed cuts out.

You slump against your shopping cart in relief. Your phone is already flooded with texts from friends and family who saw the Instagram fiasco. You shoot off some quick reassurances that you’re both fine and it was just the medication talking. Bagging the rest of your abandoned groceries, you check out as fast as possible. There’s somewhere you need to be right now.

Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on the door of Charles’ apartment. His mother opens it with an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry about earlier dear, the anesthesia made him a bit out of it as I’m sure you noticed.”

Charles perks up when you enter his bedroom. “You came!” He mumbles happily, making grabby hands at you. You settle onto the bed next to him and he immediately nuzzles into you like an affectionate kitten. His mother slips out to give you two some privacy.

You run your fingers soothingly through his hair. “How are you feeling now, my love?”

“Mmm ... sleepy. And really happy you’re here." He smiles dopily up at you. “Did I do something silly earlier? I don’t really remember.”

You debate downplaying it but figure he’ll find out eventually when the internet explodes. “You may have repeatedly declared your undying love for me on an Instagram Live ...” you say sheepishly.

Charles’ eyes go wide. “No way, really? Wow ...” He blinks slowly, processing this new information. A sly grin spreads across his swollen face. “Well it’s true. I meant every word.”

You kiss his forehead tenderly. “I know you did. Now get some more rest, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Charles looks up at you adoringly. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you more,” you boop him on the nose.

He giggles. “No way. I love you more-er.”

“Impossible. I love you most,” you insist.

“Nuh-uh,” Charles protests. “I love you most-est.”

You laugh at his stubborn persistence. “Alright, you win. Now close your eyes.”

Charles snuggles impossibly closer into your side and soon his breathing evens out as he drifts back to sleep. You brush a few curls off his forehead and whisper “I love you most-est-est.”

You make sure the blankets are wrapped securely around him and shake your head affectionately at your adorable, clueless boyfriend. Today certainly didn’t go as expected but you wouldn’t trade your Charles for anything in the world.

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part one

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi again! obligatory note to say sorry i didn't update a couple days ago i meant to but i got hit by a car and then i was working lmao (i'm fine but the ao3 curse did in fact find me)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Mister Snow." Coriolanus's head jerks up at his name from where it was resting against his palm, nearly having fallen asleep by the side of your bed. You were out cold and had been for close to a week now, but part of him hoped he would be there when you eventually stirred.

"We have to ask you to leave now, but you can come back tomorrow after seven," The nurse tells him, a sympathetic smile on her face. This was the sixth night in a row they'd had this exact conversation.

"Of course, thank you," he grumbles as he stands up, rubbing his eyes.

"How is your mentorship going?" she asks, just for the sake of making conversation. "It is very exciting. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks..." he hums, hand sliding over his jaw in slight discomfort. He had little to no interest in his tribute. It was clear Lucy Gray had no shot at winning, and he had an even smaller shot at the Plinth Prize thanks to her. Now, he could hardly even stomach looking at her. "The Songbird," as everyone called her. 

In reality, his best friend had been forgotten the moment Lucy Gray Baird set foot on that stage in District Twelve and began to sing, and he loathed her for it. The way that all eyes turned to you next to him during the reaping as soon as his tribute's lips parted and began to sing made his stomach turn even now.

Coriolanus's eyes parted from the screen to look over at you, a small teasing smile on his face as he reached out to nudge you with his elbow when instead he was met with an expression of horror on your face. He could see the way your neck tensed as you swallowed hard, and he looks around to see almost everyone else's eyes on you as well for just a moment at a time, stealing glances in your direction.

Your jaw tightens while you grind your teeth together. She was good. But you were better at masking your discomfort with the whole situation, looking down to smooth out your black skirt where it lay across your lap and ignoring all the eyes that had fallen on you.

"It's going well," he lies in response.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's got a real talent, that girl," She smiles, and Coriolanus knows she's not trying to take a jab at the girl lying unconscious a few feet away, but he couldn't see it any other way. "Well, best of luck to her. And you, of course."

"Thanks. Have a good night," Coriolanus replies almost under his breath, taking a final glance at you fast asleep in the cold-looking hospital bed, neck bandaged down to your bruised shoulders before he leaves for the night.

It's sunny out when Coriolanus makes his daily trek to the Capitol Zoo to feed his tribute, and his academy uniform feels heavier on his shoulders than what he's used to.

His tribute smiles as she gets up and brushes off the front of her rainbow dress, making her way over to the bars to greet him. "Good afternoon, Coriolanus. Doin' well today?" she asks as he gets closer, already digging into his bag for the food he brought her.

"Fine," he mumbles in response, holding the folded napkin out to her that contains a cookie he took from the academy lunchroom.

"Thank you," Lucy Gray says as she takes it, unfolding the small cloth from around it and taking a bite. Chewing on it, she looks up at him again, taking note of the bags forming under his blue eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

His eyes flick from the cookie she was eating back up to hers, a slight glare behind them as he swallows stiffly. "Yes, well, she's alive," he tells her, looking back down as she breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to him.

"No, thank you," he shakes his head, pushing her hand away with his own.

"You should eat. You look like you need the energy," she says sympathetically.

He sighs because she's probably right. He takes it from her hand carefully, already breaking off a piece. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lucy Gray knew their little routine by now. It was obvious when he brought her food the first time that he was going hungry. She had seen the signs enough back home to recognize it even here, hidden within what was supposed to be the endless opulence of the Capitol.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks as he begins to chew the tiny piece of the cookie, mindful of chewing and swallowing it slowly. He looks up at her again, confusion in his eyes. "Your friend, I mean." she explains.

"No." he answers quickly, shaking his head.

His semi-hostile response only leads Lucy Gray to believe that this girl she had seen get attacked meant something to him. Though, she already knew that when they walked into the zoo arm-in-arm like birds of a feather minutes before the girl was attacked, and her mentor had to be dragged away from her by Peacekeepers when a medical team finally arrived.

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About Y/N?" he asks, eyes softening just a bit.

Lucy Gray nods in confirmation, a small smile on her lips as she urges him on.

"She, uh..." Suddenly he doesn't know where to start with you. Your parents' names are what would traditionally come first in the Capitol, but he knew that would mean nothing to the girl in front of him. That you were his best and only real friend? That you were a singer, too, just like her, but you would likely never sing another note again? "She's a singer in training for the Opera House on Presidential Way. She is... she was very good."

Lucy Gray's eyes light up as he speaks. "She was a singer?"

Coriolanus nods, putting his focus back into eating.

"She must have been amazing," Lucy Gray says, trying to make comforting conversation.

"She is," he corrects her quickly, disguising it as agreement, despite having been the one to refer to your singing abilities in the past tense.

"Of course." She agrees, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean..."

"They are making some changes to the Games." He cuts her off, wanting to move on to avoid having to think about the current state of his best friend. It makes his heart sink and the accompanying dread causes that awful burning sensation behind his eyes that makes him want to cry. "So... you need to sing again. Get people to like you. Then I'll be able to send you things in the arena to keep you alive."

Lucy Gray seems hesitant, letting out a huff with the slight shake of her head, looking around before locking her eyes back on him. "I don't sing when I'm told. I sing when I have something to say."

Coriolanus is jarred by her statement, tilting his head a bit and clenching his jaw at the notion and her ferocity behind it. He can't help it when the sudden, stark difference between Lucy Gray and his best friend hits him like a thunderstorm coming in quick on a sunny day. 

She sang when she had something to say, you sang because you had to. This fact would keep him up at night for weeks.

The games had come and gone, and there had been no winner this year. Your tribute was shot dead the day she attacked you, and Dr. Gaul saw it as some kind of justice that after your assault, the bombing, and the deaths of your other classmates, the death of all those District kids would keep their home districts from rebelling. From seeing the Capitol as vulnerable, or something like that. You really couldn't care less. At least Felix and the twins were lucky enough to have succumbed to their injuries.

The hospital was cold and dark at almost all hours of the day. You couldn't do a thing besides sit there and wait. For what, you weren't even sure.

"She's not having a good day today," The nurse informs Coryo as he checks in to visit you. He comes by every day, sometimes multiple times a day to see you, and you have your good and bad days. He's well used to that by now.

"Has she eaten?" he asks, and the nurse shakes her head.

"Refused to touch anything we brought her," She sighs, but she's fighting back a smile, which makes him raise an eyebrow at her. Why would she be smiling at that?

"She will be able to go home tomorrow," She smiles, hearing the question he never verbalized. "I thought you might like to tell her."

"Oh... I see," Coryo hums, looking down the hall toward the staircase he would soon take to get to you.

"You don't seem pleased," She states quizzically, her grin fading.

"Why is she going home?" He asks. "She still can't even speak."

The nurse looks down, pursing her lips. "As the doctor mentioned, there's no guarantee that she will ever get her voice back. I'm sorry, truly, but there's nothing more we can do for her here. It's better that she's home with her family recovering somewhere more comfortable."

"Right," He swallows, nodding curtly at her. "Thank you," He replies simply, brushing past the nurse's station to go down to your room. 

He can always hear it before he sees it, the echo of opera music cycling through your favorite records time and time again, filling the quiet hall with something pleasant as soon as he opens the door from the stairwell.

"Y/N," You look up from where you're sitting in the corner, tilting your head at him. Coryo smiles as he walks in, and you wish you were in a better mood, to be a better host; as good of one as you could be when you were in the hospital and couldn't speak a single word to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips. The flowers people had brought you in your first couple of weeks were wilting, and then they stopped bringing them. Your whole life you had been praised for your voice; since you were six years old, the Capitol had seemingly been buzzing with hope for your future. You would be the most beautiful, accomplished singer Panem had ever seen - no one doubted it, but within weeks you had been completely forgotten. Replaced by the image of the girl who had sung at the reaping and once in an interview. Your room was quite a sad reflection of this, and you spent every minute of every day forced to wallow in it.

"Bad day?" Coryo asks anyway, but you just shrug, looking out the window at your sad view of the city that had abandoned you.

"Well, I've got some good news," He says, which draws your attention. You tilt your head at him, gesturing in a circular motion with your hand for him to go on.

He laughs, putting his bag down on your empty and perfectly made bed. "One second, here. In case you have questions." He pulls the small chalkboard out from the drawer next to your bed, holding it out to you with a piece of white chalk. You scrunch up your nose and wave rapidly for him to put it back. He knew it would bug you, that's why he did it, recalling the day he brought it for you and you almost threw it at him.

"I HATE writing with chalk," You scribbled quickly on a napkin with a pen you stole from his pocket, throwing the napkin at him and crossing your arms.

"What? Why?" Coryo laughed, dropping the crumpled piece of soft paper on the table next to your bed.

You shook your head, pursed your lips, and looked up, trying to find a way to explain the awful sensation without saying it. He watched you patiently as you thought, until you pretended to hold a piece of the white substance in between your thumb and forefinger, dragging it down the air slowly and pretending to gag. You shook your head again in disgust, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you felt so passionately about this," He drags the chalk down over the board, and you cringe, covering your ears. Coryo couldn't help but think that was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen.

That had been one of your good days, even though at the time your scar was still so fresh it was bandaged, and you were littered with bruises down to your ribs. The room was littered with fallen flower petals by now, yes, but also with what must be hundreds of notes you had shown to Coryo to express yourself in the only way you still could.

That memory still makes you smile, even if you do absolutely hate chalkboards. You walk past him and grab your notebook off the same table, picking it and the pen up as dramatically as you possibly can before sitting down on the bed and looking up at him.

"What?" He asks, just to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

'Get on with it. Also, you're not funny, and I hate you,' You write, turning the page to face him so he could read it.

"Oh, do you?" He chuckles, sitting down next to you.

You smack his arm with the book, motioning again that he should just spit it out.

"Okay! Okay, fine," He sighs emphatically, placing his hands on his thighs and looking down at the floor, just for a few moments to drive you more up the wall before turning his gaze to you. "They told me that you're going home tomorrow."

You open your mouth to speak, suddenly forgetting that you can't. You quickly shut your jaw, furrowing your brow and shaking your head. 'Why?' You mouth to him, neglecting the pad of paper in your lap.

He reads your lips, frowning at your lack of excitement. He was hoping you would be looking forward to it, but he knew you wouldn't be. Not really. "They said there isn't anything more they can do for you here, that you need to heal at home."

You stand up abruptly, throwing the paper down on the ground and clutching the pen so tight that Coryo fears it might shatter.

What do they mean "nothing they can do"? They could fix you, they could operate again, they could pump you so full of drugs that you could finally forget the hell that you're living in, that's what they could do. You couldn't even say that - or scream out your frustrations.

You turn back to Coryo, and the hurt look on your face crushes him. You want to speak to him so badly. Your lips fall open, and you try anyway. 'They're going to leave me like this?' You ask, but not a sound comes out. Not even so much as a whisper. Your throat burns regardless.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, standing up and reaching out for you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "Come here..." he says softly, already wrapping his arms around you as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall. You can't even hug him back, hands clutched to your chest as you shake under his hold.

"If I could take this from you, I would," He mumbles, shaking his head and resting his chin on your head as he rubs your back. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

What he wouldn't give to be able to hear your voice again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[immortal-archives]

Every starting villager of Phoenix drop! Explanations and backstory ahead:

Brendan and Kiki are identical twins hailing from Tu’la. Their family moved to Ru’aun after discovering that Kiki had magicks. They became farmers near Brightport. Their canon backstory proceeded from there. Eventually, Brendan went across the channel to meet new people. Kiki followed him.

Kiki used to look more like Brendan, but eventually grew out her hair and dyed it to look more feminine. She always has a little something for her animals in her bag. Kiki doesn’t stay in the village full-time, as she likes acquiring new animals for her stand.

Molly is a middle-aged woman who lives in the maiden house. Her partner, Dale, lives in the guard tower with their son Brian. For various reasons, they aren’t married yet— mainly, because marriage is incredibly expensive and living together unmarried is very dangerous in Ru’aun. But the two of them make the best of it. They’ve been scrounging together money so that they can afford a priest from Brightport to bless their marriage. Brian loves his parents, and wants to be a guard like his dad. Dale hopes Brian gets stationed in a richer village, even if he’ll miss his son. He won’t leave though— Phoenix Drop is his home

Emmalyn was born in Phoenix Drop not all that long ago. In her 20’s, she’s the youngest resident after Brian and Zenix. Her parents died to the undead when she was just a baby. But she grew a love for knowledge, and decided to pursue being a researcher. She left for Scaleswind to go to university, staying with her aunt. Now, she runs the library where she collects all sorts of books. Her current specialty is in curses and the various magical creatures of Ru’aun; however, she has many more books in her collection. Perhaps, even some from the time of Irene…

Zenix was a boy found by Garroth at 13 years old. He was incredibly malnourished and scared all the time. He often used to attack Garroth out of fear. But eventually, he realized he was safe in the village. Garroth says he doesn’t have to do anything at all, but Zenix decided to become a guard to pay him back for his kindness. His eyes turned permanently red at a certain point, but he seemed to have better control over his emotions. Garroth was glad to see he was getting better. He had no idea what Zenix actually did

Garroth is the mystery guard of Phoenix Drop that we all know and love. His cover story is that he grew up in Brightport with Azura— if anyone asks her, that’s what she says. He doesn’t like saying that himself as he feels bad lying— but will if directly asked. His number one priority has always been the safety of the village and its people. He’s never asked anyone to work, instead believing that what needs to get done will because it must happen. So far, the village is scraping by. But as every day passes, more money hemorrhages from the village’s savings and more people jump ship for a village that isn’t dying. In desperation, he turns to a hired contractor… to hire her for the unaskable task of running the village.

Most days, you’ll find Stephanie spinning wool into yarn. It was a good way to pass the time, and earn a little extra change for her eventual wedding. She’d been born in Brightport alongside her sister Merida— but she went across the channel after being charmed by Corey. Corey was from Scaleswind, and came to Phoenix Drop many years ago to look for emerald mines. Eventually, the meager ore deposits dried up. But he didn’t return home— he was charmed by the young woman from Brightport that he met. So he stayed, and became the village’s carpenter. Now he creates furniture, fencing, and whatever other strange thing the new lord needs

Lydia was born more inland. She was an orphan, kept in the orphanage. Her passion was for singing, and she had a beautiful preforming voice. However, there was no way for her to pursue this; singing was not considered real work, and she could not support herself. When she turned ten, as all orphans do, she was kicked onto the street. The only maiden houses in the village were brothels, or houses where the family of the woman pays for her stay. Because of this, she turned and left. It’s a miracle she survived all those years of traveling. But eventually, she came across Phoenix Drop; a village that asked nothing of her, and she asked nothing of it but a home. She’s now fiercely protective of the village and of other women in her situation; she will befriend women and direct them into their village to get them out of their circumstances. Garroth is happy to accommodate them.

[noodlesoup1819]

Day 2: Mental Disability - Autistic Ranpo

I didn't get to doing anything proper for this day, but Autistic Ranpo is featured heavily on Day 7, so keep an eye out for that. (this can sort of be read as the background for that post if you want to know what my personal interpretation is.)

Instead let's talk about some of my Autistic Ranpo Headcanons! (ft. Poe and emotional support animal Karl)

(these are my personal hcs based on my autistic experience and is not reflective of everyone's interpretation and experience of autism <3)

I think Ranpo went undiagnosed until several months of living with Fukuzawa. Because of Ranpo's intellect, no one ever really questioned the things he struggled with until Fukuzawa.

The first time Fukuzawa started thinking there might be something actually up (rather than Ranpo just being Ranpo) was the first time he properly got lost trying to navigate the subway. Ranpo ended up going missing for serval hours 4 towns over and Fukuzawa finally found him curled up on a bench having a meltdown.

Another thing that clued him in was food. Fukuzawa, trying to be the Responsible Adult™️, pushed a little too hard about not having so many sweets. It wasn't until there was a big blow-up fight about it that Fukuzawa understood that Ranpo wasn't just being picky.

It took a little time, but the two of them fell into a rhythm and Fukuzawa became a safe space for Ranpo.

Before the agency was set up properly, Fukuzawa kept stim toys and earplugs in his sleeves for whenever Ranpo needed them. (now he keeps them in his desk drawer)

After getting a diagnosis and settling into the agency, Ranpo manages his autism much better. The agency always has someone there to help him navigate, everyone respects him in spite of his childish demeanor, and he has a very set routine.

When things do get overwhelming, he still has places within the agency to calm down. Fukuzawa will always let him join him for tea in his office. Having made a bit of an adoptive sister in Yosano she let's him chill out in his office if he ever needs any down time (everyone's too scared of her to bother him when he's in there.)

The rest of the agency is good at accommodating him too. Kunikida has no problem using his ability to make stim toys or aids for him whenever they're out on a case. Dazai, while kind of a pain in the ass, gives him some good intellectual stimulation when they hang out that's hard for him to get elsewhere (they're besties you can't convince me otherwise). Atsushi carries around snacks for him. And everyone regardless of who they are will help him navigate transportation.

Eventually he also has Poe who he can either go to or call to come and bring Karl. The author has a really calming presence and having a soft animal to pet and play with always helps.

Speaking of Poe, their first interaction will always haunt him as one of his autistic blunders. Ranpo really respected him as a detective and wanted to complement his skills... but didn't quite realize comparing him to himself would sound like gloating. He's really glad to have met Poe again (even if it was through a 6 year revenge plot).

Poe also understands his autism in a way that most people don't, being autistic himself.

The first time Ranpo had a proper meltdown around Poe was before Ranpo had the chance to explain his autism to him. After calming down, Ranpo was super impressed with how Poe dealt with it and it led to a conversation about both of their experiences growing up and why Poe has Karl as his emotional support animal.

Ranpo also gets headaches frequently. He's never really found a cause, but he suspects his autism has something to do with it.

When he was young and lived with Fukuzawa, Fukuzawa would let him sleep with his head in his lap and play with his hair when things got bad. (He would still let him, but Poe does it most often now)

This got long 😅 but I hope you enjoyed! 💖

[burningcheese-merchant]

Beast-Yeast Episode 6 Predictions

Felt like popping in and listing off my ideas/predictions for the next half of the update before going back to work:

Burning Spice will not take the Soul Jam back right away. Against his better judgment, he will simply toss Golden Cheese down the cliff and lay back again. Both just to watch her suffer/squirm, and because he really is disappointed in their fight and wants more out of her, so he's being nice and giving her one more shot to get up and prove herself to him

Golden Cheese will be taken in by the kulfi monkeys, who will be extremely grateful for her essentially sacrificing herself to save one of their own (especially after they sort of threw her out of their village earlier). They, or at least that elder, will come to see that she's the god mentioned in their prophecy and will do what they can to nurse her back to health so she can get back in the ring and defeat Burning Spice once and for all

Smoked Cheese will reach the logical conclusion regarding the spices in the air being the ashes of fallen Wild Spices, and use them to create a whole army of zombie soldiers to hold the Spice Swarm at bay while Golden Cheese VS Burning Spice 2: Electric Boogaloo happens

Golden Cheese's revelation will likely be inspired by her reflecting on saving that kulfi monkey kid. Perhaps by touching on her previous thought "they're just like my treasures", on reuniting with Smoked Cheese, and on the people she's met on her journey in Beast-Yeast. She may think back to Burning Spice telling her "you will crumble and become dust, like all those trinkets you held dear" and realize that no, she shall not, for she still has trinkets to protect - her cheesebirds, Smoked Cheese, all of her citizens still waiting to be revived back home, and now, these spices she's come to care for so quickly and accepted as her own. She has endured great suffering, but she cannot and will not stand by and allow it to be inflicted on others while she's actually there to stop it

Golden Cheese's awakened form will take after Ra, the Egyptian god of the sun and leader of the Egyptian pantheon

Specific additions to above point: Awakened form will either A) look like the bennu bird (or the bennu heron), mythical animal/being in Egyptian mythology considered to be the soul of Ra himself, who rises from the ashes each morning and is seen as a symbol of creation and rebirth, B) be accessorized by all kinds of priceless jewels and minerals, as a more frank/simple nod to her love of wealth and opulence, or C) have technological augmentations of some sort as a nod to the digital version of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. (It could also be D) all of the above, but I doubt it)

Golden Cheese will win (duh), but Burning Spice will be less upset than anyone thinks. He will be glad that he finally managed to face the formidable opponent he'd always known Golden Cheese to be and was waiting to fight in the first place. Of course he'll be angry that he's been denied the return of the missing half of the Soul Jam, but... damn it, he had a blast and he can't be mad about that. But he'll be back eventually, of course... for the Soul Jam, but also - perhaps even more than that - to fight Golden Cheese again, because now he's got someone to keep him from being bored forever

The Wild Spices will be swayed to Golden Cheese's side and perhaps even want to fully become her subjects, as they respect strength/power and she just kicked their boss's ass pretty soundly so... (Not sure about Nutmeg Tiger, she'll probably be stubborn and stay under Burning Spice but secretly have her faith/loyalty shaken, if not completely shattered) Further proof of this occurring is the loading screen quote "The Wild Spices worship the Great Destroyer out of fear. But what if... they desire something more...?" Golden Cheese is that "something more". They'll see it. They'll turn away from Burning Spice and seek her leadership instead.

I'm sure I'm not the only one who's thought of these, but I wanted to jot them down anyway. Let's see how it goes.

You all have to come back here and like/reblog if any of these turn out to be correct.

[basilpaste]

GO MY LOCK FIGHT. TWOHATS SPOILERS.

[1,898 words below.]

(There is no one at the Favor Tree.)

(But… that’s not exactly true, is it?)

(The leaves of the tree rustle just out of sync with the wind, some of the branches dipping just a little bit too low.)

(...)

(. . . . .)

“Lock?”

(Silence.)

“Lock, say something!” (You shout.) “I know you’re here.”

〘“...”〙

(The branches of the tree shift, shooting up and sending a cascade of leaves to the ground.)

(When the scene clears, Lock is here.)

(It doesn’t say anything, it just looks at you. Straight at you. Letting you examine it clearly.)

(You knew, didn’t you? Even if it looks nothing like him, you’d recognize one of your closest friends anyways, wouldn’t you?)

(Isa.)

(It takes one of the lightless charms that hangs from the ring around its face, holding it up to the light.)

(It glints.)

〘“...”〙

〘“Siffrin.”〙

〘“Why are you here?”〙 (It brings the earring down, hands folding on its lap.) 〘“You won, didn’t you?”〙

〘“You did it! You finally actually did it. You’re free. The King is gone, your friends are safe, you made it!”〙

〘“... I’m so happy for you.”〙 (It means it, you can tell. You think that makes it worse.) 〘“You made it out. So… go. Live your new life. You don’t need me anymore.”〙

(You don’t know what to say. So instead you just stay put.)

〘“Go!”〙 (It says again, almost desperate.) 〘“Don’t just stand there! You’re free, Siffrin. Be free.”〙

(You don’t move from your spot.) “I—”

〘“Leave me alone here! I have nothing else to offer you.”〙 

(You want to argue. You can’t get a word in edgewise.) 

〘“Siffrin, I am a tool. Something here to aid you with the loops. And now they’re over! You made it! There’s nothing left for me to do for you.”〙 (Its voice shakes.) 〘“There’s no reason to come back here. To talk to me. No reason at all! You don’t need the shackle around your wrist now that the chain’s been cut. There’s nothing keeping you here.”〙

〘“So you should just go.”〙

(You don’t move.)

〘“What else do you want me to say? What else can I possibly say?”〙 (It bows its head, hands balling into fists.) 〘“You did it, Siffrin! I’m so glad!”〙

“...”

〘“Y’know… you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. I’m sure you get it. You’ve talked to Isabeau enough times to understand.”〙

〘“I’ve worn so many hats at this point that all I am is the rack that they sit on. When I — when he — met everyone, it was the first time he ever felt like he belonged.”〙

〘“He was a nervous child and a friendly, but distant, adult. The people he met on his journey… they were the closest thing to family he’s ever had.”〙

〘“And — and he didn’t want to lose them. He was too scared!”〙

〘“So he made the exact same kind of mistake that you did. Made a stupid wish, hoping that he could stay with them all! That he’d never have to just be a friendly face again.”〙

〘“He fought his way through the House, tried to fight the King, for so long that he lost track.”〙

〘“And eventually he lost himself, too. And he couldn’t keep going.”〙

〘“He gave up.”〙

〘“But instead of nearly destroying the world, he destroyed himself. Change is… destruction, y’know?”〙

〘“And then he made a new wish.”〙

〘“He wished that he knew what to do.”〙

〘“He wished that something would change.”〙

〘“He wished for someone to help him.”〙

〘“He wished for anyone to help him. So he didn’t have to be strong anymore.”〙

(...)

〘“And someone did help him, right?”〙

〘“For a long time, I thought it was the Change God. On a surface level it fit the bill — right? I was Changed. I became something totally different than what I was before.”〙

〘“But the Change God is a pretty lazy deity.”〙

〘“I realize now that it was the Universe. I made a wish, even if I didn’t know that I was doing it.”〙

〘“And the Universe granted that wish by trapping you in time instead. By making me into a tool to help guide you.”〙

〘“I was horrified.”〙

〘“My stupid, uneducated wish got Siffrin trapped in the loops instead!!!”〙

〘“And all I could do was watch. All I could do was give you as much information as I had and hope you wouldn’t make all of the same mistakes that I did.”〙

〘“Which you didn’t. You got out! You made it through!”〙

〘“...”〙

〘“And now… now you can go.”〙

〘“So please just go.”〙

(You won’t.)

〘“Please, Siffrin.”〙

(You can’t.)

(Lock gets to its feet unsteadily, hands wrapped around itself. Even without eyes, you can tell that it’s looking anywhere but at you.)

〘“Fine.”〙

〘“If you won’t leave on your own, I’ll make you leave.”〙

〘“Being a weapon isn’t that different from being a tool.”〙

〘“... Let’s just get this over with.”〙

[Down 1:] (LOCK cries out.)

〘“I’m not stopping until you give up and go.”〙

〘“Sorry, Siffrin. Did you forget?”〙

〘“I used to be in your shoes, y’know?”〙

〘“[If I die I, can just loop back.]”〙

〘“Hah…”〙

[Down 2:] 〘“The person I used to be never beat the King. Not in a way that mattered.”〙

〘“The only time he ever managed it, it all went back to the start! And he could never do it again. He tried. Not hard enough.”〙

〘“... Isabeau. He sits in front of the Favor Tree for a long time at the start of each loop. Before you get here.”〙

〘“I thought about it sometimes, y’know? How much time there is.”〙

〘“I could take his place before you ever left the meadow! Be a person again. Be him again.”〙

〘“But I’m not a person anymore. I’m just here to help you!”〙

〘“I’m here to help you. And I did that!”〙

〘“So why won’t you just LEAVE?! Learn how to quit, Siffrin! I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE.”〙

〘“Don’t you get that?! Do you have any idea how horrible it is to see these — these knockoffs of people you knew?”〙

〘“It’s awful, Siffrin! It’s terrible!”〙

〘“You don’t understand what it’s like to see the face that used to be yours and not recognize it!!!”〙

〘“I CAN’T REMEMBER MY OWN FACE.”〙

〘“I DON’T RECOGNIZE ANYONE'S FACE ANYMORE. NOT EVEN YOURS.”〙

〘“SO JUST!!!”〙

〘“LEAVE ALREADY!!!!!!”〙

[Down 3, End:] 〘“PLEASE!!!”〙

(Lock hesitates.)

(Seeing the opening, you strike!)

〘“Please.”〙

(Lock        can’t fight anymore.)

(You won.)

(. . .)

〘“Siffrin.”〙

(It sounds more exhausted than you’ve ever heard it.)

〘“I don’t — I know it’s selfish but I don’t want to be here anymore.”〙

〘“It’s not that I want to die, but… I’m tired.”〙

〘“This is the kind of burden you shouldn’t have to face. Not anymore.”〙

〘“Leave. Go be happy.”〙

(You don’t get it.) “... Wasn’t talking about things the whole point of this? Wasn’t it the reason I even broke the loops?”

(Lock               laughs.)

(It’s so weak you barely hear it.)

〘“Stars. That’s true.”〙

〘“I meant it when I said that you’re smarter than you think you are, Siffrin.”〙

(So…) “Why not talk about it, then?”

〘“You have a whole life to live now. People who love you.”〙

〘 “Siffrin I — I don’t.”〙

〘“They’re all… long gone now. And I’m not ever going to get them back.”〙

〘“You have something to strive for.”〙

〘“I don’t want to be the shackle on your wrist anymore.”〙

〘“So just… leave! Go! Live a good long life that’s worth living!!!”〙

〘“Kill me if you have to!”〙

〘“Just don’t stay here!!!”〙

(...)

(You want to do that. Live a good life.)

(You don’t want Lock to suffer like this, though. It hurts to see it so desperate.)

(It’s your friend! Even if it doesn’t let you call it that.)

(You want your friends to be happy. You want Lock to be happy.)

“I’ll leave soon.” (You say slowly, quietly.) “I just… I wanted to say goodbye.”

(Lock presses its lips together.)

〘“Goodbye, Siffrin.”〙

“And!!!” (You add hurriedly) “I wanted to thank you.”

〘“Thank me?”〙 (It echoes.) 〘“For what?”〙

“For everything.”

〘“What?”〙

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Lock!”

〘“I… I don’t—”〙

“Without you, I would’ve given up a long time ago!”

“But you were always here! Giving me advice and guiding me through the worst of it. Even if you didn’t have all the answers, you always did your best to help me out!”

“You gave me company, someone to talk to when I couldn’t talk to anyone else!” (You smile.) “But you were there, and it meant I wasn’t alone.”

〘“Stop.”〙

“It’s thanks to you!”

〘“STOP!!!”〙

(You toss your dagger to the side, into the grass. You’re kneeling over Lock right now, but you dip down and wrap your arms around it.)

〘“Siffrin…”〙

(You feel its arms around you.)

〘“I hate you.”〙

“No.” (You say.) “You don’t.”

〘“No. I don’t.”〙(It agrees.) 〘“I hate this.”〙

“Odile told me to thank you, too.”

“Everyone is really thankful.”

〘“Whuh— why?”〙

“You helped everyone, didn’t you? You guided everyone to the King?”

“They couldn’t have done it without you, either!”

“You helped save me. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

〘“Siffrin.”〙

〘“... Sif.”〙

“Thank you for everything, Isa.”

〘“Lock.”〙

〘“I… haven’t been Isabeau in a very long time. I’m okay with Lock. At least for now.”〙

“Thank you, Lock. For everything.”

(Lock doesn’t respond.) 

(You don’t think it can cry, but it hiccups against your shoulder.)

(The two of you sit like that for a long time.)

〘“Siffrin… I’ll be okay.”〙

“Will you?”

〘“I will.”〙

“Will I ever see you again?”

〘“... Yeah. I’m sure we’ll meet again eventually.”〙

(It pulls away from you and grabs the charm it had pulled from its ring earlier.)

(Grabbing your hand gently, it places it into your palm, shutting your fingers around it.)

〘“... Give that back to me the next time we see each other.”〙

(Oh!!!)

(You slip the charm into your pocket.)

(After a moment, you take one of the clips off of your cloak and hand it to Lock.)

“We’ll trade back next time we see each other!”

(It laughs. Bright and warm and lively.) 

〘“Deal.”〙 (It says, cradling your clip in its hand like something precious. 〘“Go live, Siffrin. I’ll… maybe I’ll start living, too.”〙

[lightlycareless]

warnings: none.

Naoya didn’t even wait to be officially dismissed before he was rushing—no, flying his way back home.

Always of a common occurrence for him to behave in such way, especially after spending days, if not weeks, away from the Zen’in estate. After a job well done, all that he cared about was relaxing, not having to worry about annoying teammates, complaining civilians, and the endless paperwork that always ensued, and just let the days pass alongside his family.

Those things were enough of a reward for him to actively look forward to the end the day, but after a special something blessed his life, it’s all he ever thought of.

“You’re back home earlier!” you’d chirp as soon as you felt the familiar strong pair of arms encasing you from behind, just short of leaving your bedroom. Due to the circumstances of this abrupt meeting, one could even say you were fated to meet your husband, and honestly? You were not complaining about it, if anything, you were elated to be given this surprise on an already beautiful day.

“I am” he responds, kissing the top of your head before turning you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to now kiss your lips once, twice, thri— too many times to count. “I missed my girls far too much, I had to come back.”

You giggle, tip toeing to kiss him back before tightly hugging him.

“Welcome home.” You eventually say. “We missed you too.”

“It was insufferable to be out there away from you” he sighs, taking in your scent and relaxing him.

“I can’t imagine” you respond, knowing that sentiment very well. “But that’s over, and you’re finally home with us…”

“I’m glad I’m home earlier” Naoya admits. “I was going mad if I’m being honest.”

“How’d you manage that? I thought you’d be gone for at least another week...”

“I finished some cases faster, that’s all” Naoya kisses the top of your head. “As I said, it’s impossible for me to keep away from my family—It’s either rush to come back or die.”

“Don’t say that” you pout, and he chuckles.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that” He kisses you once more.

You always hated the days he’d have to leave for work, specifically for longer missions where their end was unforeseeable for the near future.

Because the nature of his career entailed high risks, you’d always keep a close eye on your phone, quick to reach for it whenever getting a notification, hoping it was Naoya contacting you, praying it wasn’t with any bad news.

But you guess you couldn’t complain much—you knew exactly what kind of lifestyle waited for you when marrying him, and as much as you get to dislike certain aspects of his career, you also love him for it. After all, it’s how you met in the first place, and Naoya absolutely loves his job as a sorcerer too, regardless of the… other things he didn’t like.

So, you were going to support him no matter what, as well as admire his accomplishments which had led him to be considered as one of the best sorcerers in the whole country!

And who wouldn’t to have a man like that as their husband?

“… I know” you sigh “Well… I’m glad you’re back sooner! But that means I didn’t prepare anything for your return—have you eaten? Or do you want to take a bath instead first? Oh, you must be so exhausted—” you being to fret, and Naoya can’t help but chuckle.

“While I have to admit that all of those things sound very, very good right now—but” he gives you a smile, before it turns into a pout, shyly looking away. “…I was hoping to see someone first.”

Quickly understanding what he means, you waste no time to smile back before grabbing his hand and lead him down to your shared room, where his beloved ones were eagerly waiting for their father’s return: the twin baby girls you had welcomed less than a year ago.

An unexpecting blessing indeed—and not because the thought of a family hadn’t crossed your minds. That happened just a few weeks into your marriage, if not prior.

But rather, because your dream of having a big family ended up becoming true right from the very start.

“Twins?” Naoya breathed, checking one too many times the monitor in which doctor displayed your ultrasound, as if trying to decipher the image the man so identified as two babies, or discover it was a prank.

“Yes—twins. And I can see the gender too! It looks like they’re going to be—”

“No!” you gasp, tightly closing your eyes as to avoid seeing anything that might give away their sex, not that you could understand what he saw but… “I want it to be a surprise!”

It was refreshing to see you so excited to have two babies instead of one, in contrast of his worrisome response, undoubtedly terrified for the difficulties this situation will bring, as well as the many doubts that quickly arose.

“What are we going to do with two of them?!” Naoya frets once out of the doctor’s office, with you silently agreeing with him. While it might be wonderful to have two little Naoya’s or two little Y/N’s (perhaps one of each, they hoped) the truth is that this would be far more difficult to overcome, both mentally, and specially physically for you…

“I guess we’ll have to love them” you attempt to reassure him, and he quickly succumbs to the warmth of your words.

Thankfully, the pregnancy was one with little to no difficulties, and the two girls, named Naoko and Naomi, were born as healthy and beautiful as any parent could hope, perfect for all the love they had to give.

Naoya’s eagerness is what rushed him to open the door before you could even grip the handle, swiftly sliding it open and quickly glancing form one side of the room to the other in search of his lovely ones, eventually finding them playing besides the futon, on the playmat Naoya bought them (because he’d never allow his babies to touch the cold, rough floor! What kind of father would he be if he allowed that?!) alongside one of their many, countless toys you told him to not buy because it was growing a bit excessive… only for you to comply when their adorable puppy eyes convinced you otherwise.

The girls, Naomi and Naoko, seem to be completely enthralled by the colorful toys before them at first, unaware of their father’s presence.

One of them, Naomi, had a small frown on her face while carefully analyzing the toy in her hand, as if trying to decipher how something so bright and fun, yet stiff could exist.

While the other, Naoko, spent her time crawling from one side of the playmat to the other, trying to get used to the movement, perhaps even itching to stand and finally take a few steps of her own…

A notion that makes you and Naoya sad, for both know that it’ll only be a matter of time before they manage to stand up by themselves, walk, run—

Next thing you know, they’ll be leaving the house as adults, ready to dive into their new life.

Oh, neither wants them to grow… but at the same time, there was an eagerness to see them become into the wonderful, successful women you knew they’d be. Perhaps one of them, if not both, would follow Naoya’s footsteps and become sorcerers themselves! Or maybe, they’d settle for a completely different career, something a bit more… calm, less dangerous, but equally essential.

Either way, you and Naoya were more than ready to support them in whatever endeavor they were to follow… even if it meant that both wouldn’t be able to dote at them as much as they did now.

Well, if they ever get lonely, they were sure they could have more kids, right…? Or who knows? Maybe they’d be fortunate enough to have grandchildren!

“Bngh ah!” one of the babies eventually babbles when catching a glimpse of their father—a noise that once registered by Naoya, makes all his worries disappear and focus instead on the swift way they crawl towards him, chubby hands eagerly attempting to reach him, effectively showing that they missed him as much as he did them.

“Naoko-chan, Naomi-chan!” Naoya face lightens, scooping them as soon as they reached him and wasting no time to give their soft, round chubby cheeks a big kiss. “How are my lovely girls? Did you miss me?”

Naomi, the most talkative of the two, is quick to babble in such a manner that gives the impression she understood what he was saying. He smiles.

“Ah, I missed you too!” And Naoya takes this opportunity to give them another kiss, one that now makes Naomi and Naoko giggle. “It was horrible out there, you know? I couldn’t wait to get home with mama and you—I hope you two were good girls while I was away, hm?”

Naomi coos in response, fully engaged in conversation with her dada, while Naoko simply stares at him, placing her soft hand over his face before grasping a thread of his hair—she was always enthralled by the duality of its color, and it made you believe that when she’s older, she might want to dye her hair too…

“I know you were” he says. You always loved how responsive he was to her nonsensical babbles, it’s almost as if he understood her! Might be the reason why she was so interactive in the first place, because there was always someone playing along to her tune. “You’re my daughters after all!”

Naomi smiles, relishing the compliment, but Naoko only squirms, having gotten bored from his hair and wanting to return to her crawling journey. Her father kisses her one last time before putting her back on the floor, where she was quick to pick up from where she left off… but even then, Naoko doesn’t stray much far from her father, crawling around him instead.

You watch the whole scene with great awe, for your heart had greatly missed these heartwarming moments, your heart finding some relief in seeing your family reunited and safe once again.

A smile parts your lips as you decide to take a seat by the futon, with your husband joining you soon after, all whilst still holding Naomi in his arms.

“What did my girls do today?” he asks, obviously referring to you, but Naomi wins you to it as she starts to babble, making the two chuckle out of amusement.

The baby stops, giving the two a curious look as if wondering what they were laughing at. Naomi didn’t intend her reaction to be as adorable as it turned out to be, but you and Naoya just couldn’t help laughing again—unfortunately this time, her face deepened into a frown.

“Oh, it’s nothing baby” you reassure her while pinching her cheek—a gesture that at first has her further confused, but when she sees the smile on your face and the innocence of your touch, she can’t help but to give you a bright smile as well before continuing with the conversation.

“Ah, really?” Naoya says, stringing along with his daughter. “And did you have fun at the park?”

You blink. Did he just…?

Guess he does understand her after all.

“Ranta told me” Your husband explains, as if sensing the disturbance in your mind, masking you sigh. You had to admit you were a bit worried there, believing that you were miscalculating your skills as a parent… “Scared you, didn’t I?”

“A bit” you chuckle and Naoya just smiles.

Naomi would continue babbling on, occasionally raising her hands to add a dramatic effect to her retelling, which makes your husband’s heart flutter— in that aspect, she definitely takes after you.

“I’m glad you had fun, love” he responds. “Maybe next time I can join you and your sister.”

She nods earnestly, and Naoya’s heart finally burst out his chest.

“That’s it. I’m retiring from work; I’m never leaving the estate” he darkly promises.

“Naoya!” you gasp “You—I mean, you can but you’ll regret it!”

“How could you tell me that, when I have these beautiful babies at home?!” he cries back, and you must agree with him, if it were the other way around you don’t think you’d be able to leave them behind…

“Life is cold out there, void of any love. I’d rather be here with you, and my daughters, and dote on both till I can’t no more.”

You give him a tight smile, feeling nothing but empathy for him and the countless sacrifices he must make because of his career.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Naoya loves his family very, very much, and would go to great lengths to ensure their safety and happiness. And while you spend every single day appreciating him for it, there’s this lingering sensation on the back of your mind that suggests you should do something more for him—something special to demonstrate to him that he’s appreciated for all he’s done for you and your daughters. Because no one knows more about the efforts he’s put both into his career and family, than you.

It wasn’t much, at least compared to what he’s done you suppose (If Naoya heard you, oh, he’d be quick to tell you otherwise—to him, you’ve done nothing but the best.) but you were proud to have made a place where Naoya feels cherished and protected. Where he can be himself, your husband, and not the heir with unrealistic expectations everyone else burdened him with, sometimes even berated.

And you’d do anything in your power to keep it that way, as well for your daughters.

“When is your next holiday?” you ask, now holding Naoko who has been tugging at your sleeve for the past few seconds, growing jealous of Naomi’s position and wanting to be held too. She wanted to get up herself, and almost did so too! However, her legs were still not used to her weight, so she could barely take a step before almost falling, an incident avoided thanks to your quick reflexes.

“Not until next month, I believe” he responds while squeezing Naomi’s cheeks—he always thought that out of the two, the babies looked the most like you. Of course, judging by how easy it was for him to tease their cheeks, a curse you had unknowingly bestowed on your daughters. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing” you smile, shrugging. “Just something I was wondering…”

Naoya smiles, because after years and years of knowing you, he rightfully assumes you’re planning something—and surprises from you are always well received, so he lets the topic die soon after.

He sighs.

“I’m tired” he says, laying back on the futon and placing Naomi over his chest. Once she’s comfortable, he rests his hand over her back, caressing her softly.

“How was work, outside of exhausting?” you ask, trying to hold Naoko in place for she’d begun to squirm yet again, this time from seeing her sister comfortably laying over their dad. Victim to her adorableness, you quickly succumb to her desires and carefully place her over Naoya’s chest, who quickly accommodates her under his embrace without complaint.

“Awful” Naoya admits. “Everyone always has something to say, something to suggest, but of course, no one ever cares to do what needs to be done. And it forces me to step in and do their job along mine!”

“Bah!” Naomi exclaims, a frown on her face as she tightly clutches his chest, seemingly annoyed by the mistreatment of her father. Naoya laughs.

“I know! Sometimes it feels like I’m the only capable one there” he adds “I’m glad you don’t think the same, it’s hard to always be right, isn’t?”

You giggle.

“Only you understand me, Naomi” he sighs.

“Nah!” It’s Naoko’s time to retort, Naoya raises his eyebrows.

“And you too, of course! How could I forget?” Naoya is quick to apologize, hugging them closer to him. “There’s no one else that understands me better than the two of you, and mama of course. My closest confidants…”

“You don’t need to say that Naoya. I won’t get jealous, you know?” you murmur. “Although… I wouldn’t mind getting some of the attention… I’ve been a good girl too.”

Your husband immediately smirks, knowing very well what you mean by that implication, and honestly? It’s something he’s thought of, constantly, every time he’s away. And it’s the bare minimum he could do for you, after all, worship you as the goddess you are to him.

“I’ll give you all the attention you want soon enough—You’re my favorite girl, after all.” He promises with a wink, and you blush, his words filling you with anticipation.

“Don’t say that in front of the kids…” you murmur, beyond flustered at this point, which makes him chuckle.

“What? It’s not like they don’t know how much I love you” he responds, and you just keep getting warmer. “I love you.”

“I know.” you whisper. “I love you too.”

He smiles.

“I’ll have all day and the day after tomorrow off.” he reveals. “So, for the next few hours, I’m all yours.”

“Really?” you gasp, excitement twinkling in your eyes. This was such wonderful news, exactly what you wanted to happen! “There’s actually so many things I’d like to do.”

“Sure, go ahead” Naoya says, leaning further into the pillow as the weight of his two baby girls resting of his chest beings to soothe him. “What do you have in mind for tomorrow…?”

“Well, I was hoping we could go down to the village” you begin. “I was told by the staff that a market has been set up and I was hoping to check it out. Now that you’re here, I think we can buy some new clothes for our dumplings, hopefully some cute onesies for the upcoming cold weather—Ah, I can’t believe they’re already growing out of their clothes! I don’t want them to grow anymore…”

“Hmm, I know…” he admits with a murmur before sighing. “I’d like to get my hands on some street food for a change too…”

“That’s easy to arrange!” you say with a big grin, already envisioning the great day you’d have with your family. “Haruko-chan told me that a lot of food vendors set up so, you’re going to have many options to choose from! If not, she can always prepare something. Oh, and talking about food… Would you like me to get you something to eat? And maybe afterwards you’d like a bath?—You must be starving, and tired too.”

“Mmhmm…”

“I’ll prepare you both, then” you declare. “I just have to know what you want to eat, if there’s something you’d like in specific, or do you leave that choice to me?”

“Anything… really…” he yawns. “I don’t mind. I’m just… hungry…”

“Are you sure…? You just came back home and I wanted to do something special for you.”

“su…r….”

…

…

…

“Naoya…?” You ask.

…

…

Silence.

“Naoya?” you ask once more, noting that silence between the two only grew. “Naoya”

Too focused on the day you were planning, you failed to acknowledge the way his eyes slowly began to blink, his breath deepening, and his words becoming slurry… until he was finally, asleep.

But perhaps what moved you the most was how your adorable twins were quick to mimic him, resting their faces against his chest as they began to lightly snore.

It was always a feat to get the twins to fall asleep, sometimes an impossible challenge, but when it came to Naoya, it was nothing but a piece of cake—he just had hold them against his chest before they began to relax, slowly drifting away before inevitably succumbing to slumber.

In your defense, there was something comforting about his arms that even you fell victim to them. You’re not even sure if he’s aware of that, or perhaps he is and abuses that hidden power? Either way, you were glad that just as you were able to find peace in his hold, your daughters too. And of course, they would, he’s their father who loves them very, very much.

A smile parts your lips as you glance at the lovely image one last time before deciding to take your phone out and capture the moment with a photo, one that you’d send to Naoya later so both could gush at it.

After taking the picture and putting the phone away, you get this sensation of how comfortable it must be to join them for a nap, but then, the thought of tending to your husband’s return briefly halts you, pushing you into a discussion.

Should you relish this moment as a family, or move on with your duties…?

There was no struggle to endure—it had been so long since the four had been like this, you knew you had to make the most of it.

Thus, you crawl towards your husband’s side, where Naoko was resting, silently to not wake them up, and giving each a soft kiss on the top of their head before laying down, resting your head by his shoulder, and draping your arm over him.

Once comfortable, you glance up to him, the relaxed sight of him warming your heart as you lean to kiss his jaw one last time, before accommodating yourself once again.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes.

“Welcome home” you murmur sweetly, and a few moments later, you fall asleep.

Sir—I... I need to write more. Thankfully, I have another one in the works :)

[soupbabe]

Yoshikage Kira with a Shy! Child! Reader Headcanons

Anon asked: Hello!! I stumbled across your blog and I hope it's chill to request something with Yoshikage Kira and child!reader? Possibly Hayato's younger quiet sibling! At first they were scared and looked like they were 'suspicious' of him but it didn't take long for them to be extremely attached to him- they would only talk to him, follow him around a lot, hold onto him, etc etc! idk the thought of this menace being a dad.. sounds oddly nice ;u; I hope this is okay!!

It's okay!! Tbh a lot of my Kira stuff in my Masterlist is dad! Kira 😅😅 honestly I'm surprised I haven't written this before.

- Upon meeting you, Yoshikage would think you were kind of odd, but easily brushed you off.

- You were young, single digits, he didn't waste his time fretting over you as he did Hayato.

- Even if you did stick to your older brother's side all the time, Kira knew you were too young to fully grasp his theories

- But the bond between you and your "dad" grew during Kira's first few days of being Kosaku

- You noticed your dad being more outwardly affectionate, packing lunches, and sending you and Hayato off with a friendly goodbye

- It felt suspicious at first, you'd talk to Hayato about it every now n then, but it was hard to turn away from how nice your dad was being

- It was a pleasant change, and eventually you'd find yourself opening up to Kira.

- Every "what did you do at school today" was met with an actual response instead of a shrug, Kira and Shinobu would notice you smiling more

- Who knew that paying more attention to your kid could get them to come out of their shell 🤷

- While Yoshikage wanted and expected himself to be a better husband and father, he didn't expect his niceties to be reciprocated so quickly

- At first, he was annoyed. If he needed to go out and suppress his urges, he didn't want a kid hugging his leg and sobbing every time he left

- Give it a week and you'll get him to crack.

- He'll squeeze in extra time in his tight schedule to walk you to school and he'll pack you sweet notes in your lunch

- He still doesn't fully accept the idea that he loves you as if you were his kid, he thinks he came around to your "usefulness" to him. What's more normal than a dad that cares about his kid?

- Not to mention you report back to Hayato with nothing but good and normal things about him. Having you around eases suspension at all angles

- But y'know.. if he heard you were getting bullied he would kill for you. No doubt about it.

- Kira can't help but be that proud dad who's passive aggressively showing you off. He'd sign up for any school conferences just to brag about you

- He'd laugh at you hiding behind him or covering up his face, but he'll play it off and say that he's glad his child is so humble

- You being shy and silent didn't bother Yoshikage as much as it bothered Shinobu.

- He was a quiet kid too, and as long as you're keeping out of trouble, he doesn't see a problem with it

- In fact, he prefers it. He's happy he stole the identity of a man with two children that aren't over the top ankle biters, having you around gets him closer to the quiet life he's always dreamed of!

[apathyofthesympathetic]

@somerandomdudelmao oops my hand slipped

Donnie smiled giddily to himself as he plugged the tiny cord into Casey’s mask, absolutely stoked by the opportunity to analyse and pick apart something of his own creation that he’s never seen before. The technology crammed into every nook and crevice of the mask had him smothering an excited churr, treacherous tail wagging non stop as he wondered what amount of data and information could await him.

He was, for once in his life, so incredibly glad Leo decided to open that big mouth of his. It was, after all, his comment that led to them addressing Donnie’s curiosity and Casey nonchalantly handing over his tech.

His computer takes a suspiciously long moment to download all of the data, and suddenly he’s met by at least three dozen folders and files, all storing incredible amounts of data by the looks of it. The majority of them were labelled in seemingly random letters and numbers, except there was something about it that felt more organised for the purpose of looking random rather than actually being random. He opened one of the folders and was met with more folders, maybe fifty of them, all labelled in various kinds of gibberish. 

It took a good minute or two of wondering why the fuck would he organise files in such a way to recognise his simple-but-complicated titling system: the one Donnie’s been implementing into his recording files for years now. His brain began automatically translating the letters and numbers into their actual meaning, while something in the back of his mind screamed that this was an invasion of Casey’s privacy. 

Donnie soon realised he folder he’s currently perusing should be labelled with the year, but was instead labelled with a simple 21. Maybe it meant 21 years into the apocalypse? Casey never said how long it lasted, but he did say he’s sixteen, so it’s not too far of a stretch of the imagination that the apocalypse could’ve lasted that long.

He’s clicking on another folder just as he realised the implications of there being recordings stored in Casey’s mask.

He was, essentially, perusing through Casey’s memories.

That was bad. That was an invasion of privacy, and he should absolutely be unplugging the mask and telling Casey about this (assuming he doesn’t already know), and yet. 

And yet he doesn’t. And yet he doesn’t unplug the mask and he doesn’t delete the data, and he does select a random file and click onto fullscreen to watch something he may regret seeing.

He’ll only watch one.

Judging from the angle, the camera (probably something stored in the mask) was propped up against something, giving him a decent view of what looked to be some sort of medbay. Someone was lying beneath crisp white sheets on a bed mostly out of frame, and someone else…

… 

Donnie was seated at a surprisingly old looking computer, typing furiously away at a speed that’s more than a little impressive for someone with six fingers. He’s hunched over in a way Donnie knew wasn’t comfortable as he worked, occasionally leaning forward and shifting more of his face into the view of the camera. He’s covered in scars of varying severity and age and appeared to have gained several more markings, including three purple stripes that trail from his chin down his neck. He’s significantly taller by the looks of it, and was wearing not only a version of his battle shell, but also his mask and goggles.

It’s kind of like looking into a warped mirror, even though Donnie could only see maybe a third of his torso, the rest hidden by the camera angle. It made the breath freeze in his chest as he watched this twisted version of himself work in silence, eventually slumping in his chair as he stared at the grainy image of his future self.

Donnie - the one in the video (he’s going to refer to him as Donatello for convenience’s sake) - paused his typing and leant forward, furrowing his brow - god he had worry lines - and frowning in a way easily recognisable as his ‘I’m talking to an idiot and I have to be civil about it’ face.

Donnie couldn’t look away, even though, objectively, nothing interesting was happening. His future counterpart was simply typing, working on something while guarding a sick or injured patient. He silently watched at least two minutes of Donatello typing monotonously before something interesting happened: the person on the bed shifts.

Donnie couldn’t see who the patient was thanks to the camera angle, but his curiosity was soon satiated at the awkward little “uhh” sound Casey let out, sounding noticeably younger. Donatello jolted so violently at the sound a keycap literally went flying, and the small corner of his face Donnie could see displayed a very complicated emotion. Donatello was up and exiting the frame in less than a second, presumably grabbing Casey’s arms while a limb from his battle shell extended to grab something above the camera. Casey had just enough time to ask “Uncle Tello?” (oh come on, Leo and Mikey get master but he gets uncle?) before Donatello was speaking overtop of him.

“How are you feeling? Any pain?”

“No.“

“Hungry?”

“No?”

“Thirsty?”

“A little.”

Donnie heard another mechanical limb reach out and grab something, presumably a glass or mug.

“Want to destroy humanity?”

“Is that a symptom or a suggestion -“

“Do you need anything?”

“Umm…” A short second of silence. “Where is sensei? Is he okay?” 

Donatello moved to sit on the edge of Casey’s bed, allowing a small portion of his body to be displayed to the camera.

“I remember I attacked him,” Casey continued, and okay, what??

“Yeah, well.” A small sigh. “You didn’t succeed.”

“But I tried,” Casey’s voice wavered, “he’s not mad at me, is he?” 

“I don’t think so,” Donatello said, voice both soft and stern. “But he has his responsibilities, so he couldn’t stay here all day - he tried though.”

“Hm.”

Donnie could practically feel his future self panicking through the screen - thankfully, though, he seemed to be saved by the proverbial bell, and faint footsteps became audible as two people rapidly approached the medbay. Donnie managed to catch the end of “pretend I’m dead, and use your brain instead of mine for once” as he heard mechanical doors slide open, light illuminating part of the floor.

Leo - a very much taller and older Leo with a freaking metal ARM - dashed into full view of the camera, and Donnie barely had time to take in his appearance before, with a quick shout of “Sensei!” Casey practically flung himself into the turtle’s arms. The turtle in question looked suddenly very conflicted and concerned as his hands hovered over Casey’s back, listening to his little repetitions of “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to realise that Casey would not, in fact, fall apart at the slightest touch, and gently placed his metal arm (METAL. ARM) on his shoulder, patting Casey’s head with the other. “You don’t need to apologise, Case,” Leo said, sounding like his voice hadn’t aged a day despite the twenty-two years that’d supposedly passed, “you didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you did amazing!”

In one smooth motion Leo was suddenly cradling Casey in his arms and turning in a circle, a movement somewhere between twirling him and just holding him as he spoke, “You were literally too cool for the kraang! How can I blame you? Haha, Casey Jones is now certified cooler than aliens!”

Despite the joyous laughter filling his ears, Donnie felt dread creeping up his spine as their words began to paint a very unsettling picture.

“Maybe even I won’t stand up to him now!” Leo laughed, now holding Casey bridal style in a way that finally displayed his bandages to the camera.

“Pfffhaha!” Casey laughed, smiling so easily despite the bandages and cast covering his arms. He used the arm not in a sling to reach up and grab Leo’s mask tails, tugging on them with a smug smile that matched Leo’s as he successfully blinded the slider.

“Oh no! My only weakness!” Leo crowed dramatically, slumping onto the ground as if bested by a mighty foe, Casey giggling childishly as he slid down to sit in his lap. “Donnie,” Leo said, facing the direction of the purple genius, “can you help Raph lead the resistance instead of me? I think I’m defeated.”

And just as Casey let out another boisterous laugh and Donatello his own amused chuckle, the recording ended, displaying their smiling faces as the footage sat frozen on the last frame. 

Donnie exited fullscreen with a slow blink.

Was he misreading the situation, or had Casey been… kraangified? 

That… would explain a lot of his scars. Not that Donnie could exactly confirm or disprove his theory, because it would reveal that he knew of and had access to these recordings.

Speaking of which, he really should stop watching these. He really should unplug the mask and delete the footage from his computer, and finish his examination before giving the mask back to Casey with an explanation regarding the footage.

C’mon, Donnie, just exit the fucking files, you’re being insane. This was a ridiculous invasion of privacy and he’d probably try to kill - or at least maim - Casey if he did this to him but god damn it, his hand. Won’t. Move.

It’s like he’s hovering his hand over a hotplate. He had the autonomy and know-how, but no matter how much he tried he couldn’t even brush the red hot surface. His hand was hovering midair, only inches away from doing something part of him will inevitably regret, but that’s all it would do. Hover. His eyes were glued to the screen as he scrolled through the files, and god, there were dozens of them - hundreds, even.

Donnie exited the folder and perused through the 21 folder for a moment, before clicking the last folder listed. They seemed to be organised and labelled as different weeks, so this one would’ve taken place around Christmas time.

He clicked on the first file, entered fullscreen and pressed play.

“What? It wasn’t me, I swear!”





~~~





His brothers (plus Casey and April) were just finishing cleaning up after breakfast when Donnie burst into the kitchen, clutching Casey’s gear to his chest and with his purple hoodie slung over one shoulder, shouting, “SHUT UP LOSERS WE’RE GOING TO THE ZOO.”

Pretty much everyone did that slow blink of what the fuck did I just hear, staring at Donnie with expressions ranging from pure bafflement to startled surprise.

“…What?” Leo spoke up, putting down the plate he was in the process of drying. 

“I had a revelation while reviewing Casey’s tech,” Donnie started, holding out said gear to the human, “thank you, by the way - it was very informative.”

“You’re welcome?” Casey squeaked, accepting the gear and placing most of it on the table he stood next to. 

“But yes - the revelation!” Donnie slid the purple hoodie off his shoulder and began squeezing the fabric as a stim, smile spreading slightly when he saw how Casey eyed the fabric with recognition. “Casey grew up in the apocalypse, yes? That means that he’s missing quite a few experiences we deem normal nowadays, such as eating certain foods or watching certain -“

“Yes yes,” Leo interrupted with a roll of his eyes, “we’re working very hard to introduce him to fast food, science fiction and Lou Jitsu. Your point?”

Donnie smirked triumphantly as he slammed both hands on the table (a little louder than he intended), “Animals.” 

Casey blinked. “…Animals?”

“Animals,” Donnie nodded, “what with the those-that-shall-not-be-named rampaging across the world, it’s not hard to assume that a lot of animals would’ve gone extinct, or at least become very rare. Tell me, Casey - have you ever seen a horse?”

“What’s a horse?” 

“See!?”

“You don’t know what a horse is!?” Mikey exclaimed, practically materialising in front of Casey. “Even I’ve seen a horse! What else have you never seen before!? Sheep? Cows? At least tell me you know what a kitten is!”

“U-uhm, I do know what a cat is,” Casey stuttered, leaning away from the hyperactive teenager. 

“Have you seen one?” Raph asked, giving him a look that said ‘your life as you know it depends on how you answer this question’.

“No?” 

“We must rectify this!” Mikey shouted, darting out of the kitchen and ignoring Donnie’s mutter of “why do you know what rectify means but not imminent?”

“We must!” Raph agreed, practically sprinting out of the room. April rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, only to close it as a faint crash could be heard from somewhere else in the lair. She promptly disappeared to look for the source.

“Great!” Donnie said, “Now that that’s settled…” He turned back to Casey, holding out the ball of fabric that was his hoodie, “Wear this. Just for today.” 

“Oh, thanks Unc-Donnie,” Casey stuttered, accepting the outfit and promptly putting it on. It fit him almost unreasonably well.

“What!?” Leo exclaimed, and Donnie had the distinct feeling that if he was still holding a plate it would be shattered across the ground. “You’re giving him your hoodie!? You don’t give anyone your hoodie! Not even Mikey!”

“Oh shush,”  Donnie said, rolling his eyes and blushing slightly. “I do so, stop being dramatic. Besides, it’s cold out and Casey doesn’t have any winter clothes.”

“Then we can get him some!” Leo sputtered, gesturing wildly as he struggled for words. “Why are you giving him your hoodie!??” he eventually hissed.

“Would you believe me if I said out of the goodness of my heart?”

“NO!”

“Well then, I guess l’ll never tell you.” With that, Donnie walked past Leo into the living room, planning to grab his winter jacket from the cupboard, only to stop as Leo grabbed his upper arm and whirled him around.

“What’s going on with you?” Leo asked, voice low as he gave Donnie a surprisingly concerned look. He searched his twin's eyes for a long moment, taking note of his deep eye bags and his missing mask, and how he adamantly refused to make eye contact. He saw how his hands shook as they were folded against his plastron, and that he looked a little pale and off-balance.

“Nothing.”

“Donnie…” as Leo looked closer at his twin's face, he could’ve sworn he saw dried tears covering his cheeks. But that’s impossible, because Donnie never cried.

His mouth flopped open and closed uselessly for a moment, before Leo finally spat out, “Are you okay?”

His question was enough to startle Donnie into making eye contact. Eye contact with his brother who, objectively, deserved to be asked that question a thousand times more than him.

Donnie’s eyes wandered over to the cracks in Leo’s plastron, held together by fibreglass and covered by resin, and suddenly he was surging forward and wrapping his arms around Leo, burying his face in his neck willing himself not to cry.

They were both frozen for a long moment, before, slowly, Leo slid his arms around Donnie’s softshell and held his twin close. They both felt as Donnie’s breath stuttered in his chest, and as he pressed his snout deeper into Leo’s shoulder and neck. “I’m okay,” he whispered, and they both knew he was lying.

And with that, Donnie withdrew without another word, walking away and leaving Leo to ponder what the fuck just happened.

[say-al0e]

Second Chance

Rating: PG

Summary: Bradley was always the one who got away. Things hadn't worked years ago but sometimes in life, you're lucky enough to get a second chance. Warnings: None, just some fluff Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!Reader Word Count: 2k  Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Though nearly six years had passed since your last first date with Bradley, it felt as if no time at all had elapsed as you sat across from him. Memories of what had been filled your chest with a simmering warmth as you watched him animatedly recount yet another tale from his time at Top Gun.

That last first date, one that also spanned the course of an entire evening, launched a two-year relationship that made itself permanently at home in your heart. It found your first love, the first true romance you’d had the fortune of experiencing, and you felt a sort of deja vu as he easily rolled his eyes at another of Hangman’s antics.

This Bradley - years older, years wiser - was simultaneously comfortably familiar and so incredibly different. He still carried himself with an ease you found reassuring, armed with a mischievous smile and infectious laughter, but there were more layers now. Behind those warm brown eyes lingered a deeper understanding of the world, an understanding of life that hadn’t been present in your twenties, and you did nothing to hide the soft smile that lifted the corners of your mouth as he leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

“So, did Phoenix ever realize it was actually Bob hiding her shoes or does she still think it was Hangman?”

Empty coffee cups lingered on the table, long since cleared of your dinner plates, as the restaurant slowly closed around you. Hours had passed, spent lost in conversation - catching up on missed time, listening to the low rumble of his voice as he shared adventures - and you knew that you’d have to leave soon.

The bubble would burst eventually, pulling you both back to reality where you would have to decide whether to continue chasing the past. Still, rather than relaying that thought to Bradley, you leaned forward with a grin as you waited for his answer.

“I think she realized a few weeks ago,” he admitted, laughing as he idly wrapped a hand around an empty cup. “Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s waiting to get him back, though. Phoenix doesn’t get involved in the pranks very often but when she does, they’re brutal.”

Bradley spoke fondly of his new squadron, thrilled for the camaraderie despite his earlier struggles, and even recounted tales of having rekindled a relationship with Maverick. He looked at ease, far happier with his place in life than he had been years prior, and you were glad to see the contentment as you shook your head.

“You know,” you began, grinning as you thought about the last set of Top Gun pranks he’d been involved in, “it’s kind of comforting to know that no matter how much things change, some things stay the same.”

Both of you had grown since you last saw one another. Gone were your twenties, replaced by true adulthood - settled careers, lifelong relationships, responsibilities that sometimes seemed overwhelming - and it was evident in the conversation you’d had.

There was no longer talk of parties and bars, instead you’d spoken about family - his godfather, his squad, your parents - and friends that had long since gotten married and started families of their own. There was talk of work, of the inability to recover the way you used to and make time for things like a few drinks on a weeknight. There’d been a whole tangent about diets and playful complaints about the fact that spicy food tasted better than ever but grew harder to stomach the older you got.

But knowing that there were still those moments of levity, that the Bradley you’d met at the Hard Deck and fell in love with over too many drinks still existed, calmed any remaining nerves lingering in the pit of your stomach. It seemed that as different as things were, there was still a glimpse of the Bradley you fell in love with all those years ago and it made you hopeful that things might be different this time.

Bradley opened his mouth to respond, witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but before he could speak, a soft voice popped the bubble you’d spent most of the night in.

“Sorry,” she began, politely apologetic. “Just wanted to check in. We’re closing the kitchen, so, if there’s anything else you’d like, now is the time. And, if not, I’ve got the check.”

A quick glance at your phone had the pair of you blinking, both surprised at the time. When you spared a glance around the now empty restaurant, you grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” Bradley laughed, “didn’t realize how late it was. We’re good.”

“Yeah, we’ll get out of here so you guys can close. Sorry,” you repeated, following suit as Bradley stood from his seat and took the bill.

In a matter of moments, you were standing outside the restaurant, glancing back as the staff turned the sign and began closing up.

It was the briefest of gestures, a flash of movement, but it reminded you so distinctly of the past. There were nights where you’d close down restaurants, sit on barstools until well beyond last call, just to spend a few extra hours together before Bradley had to leave. You saw a flash of yourself, a bit younger and so wholly in love, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you began wandering down the sidewalk.

“I guess some things don’t change.” Bradley grinned, eyes bright and glittering in the city lights as he drifted closer to you. His hand bumped yours, body bleeding warmth as he tipped his head to glance at you.

“Can’t believe we spent all night sitting there. Felt like no time at all.” The observation was quiet, whispered into the wind as you wandered slowly down the sidewalk, and Bradley hummed in agreement.

“It was always like that with us,” he reminded you - as if you’d somehow forgotten just how easy things were for most of your relationship. “Even at the end, we could talk forever and not get tired of one another.”

Bradley was right. Though your relationship ended, it wasn’t because of incompatibility or a lack of love. The pair of you had always gotten along well, easy and light even toward the end, and you were reminded of just how well you and Bradley worked at every turn.

“I think the lack of a mustache helped back then.” Bradley rolled his eyes fondly, laughing as his hand brushed yours once more, while you ducked your head. “You’ve always been easy to talk to. You’re kinda captivating, Roo.”

It was easy to remember just how quickly Bradley had captured your attention and just how wholly he’d managed to do so. His voice, warm and honeyed; his way with words, always so thoughtful and intriguing; his general demeanor, easy and steadfast - everything about him made you want to lose yourself in him and you continued to be reminded of why you’d loved him so fiercely for so long.

“You’re one to talk, honey.”

There was little you could say in response, little your brain seemed to process beyond the question of why you’d allowed yourself to separate from Bradley for so long, so you opted for the next best thing. After a moment’s hesitation, you turned your hand and took his in your own, lacing your fingers together in a way that seemed achingly familiar.

From the corner of your eye, you saw his smile grow wider - bright, happy, even in the dim glow of streetlights - and smiled as you drew closer to the Bronco. The night was coming to an end, but as sad as that made you, you could see more nights like it in your future as you witnessed the brilliance of that smile.

Conversation tapered off into a comfortable silence, then. It was as it had always been, neither of you compelled to speak just for the sake of conversation, and it was yet another reminder of what you’d missed. With Bradley, there was always a level of ease no one else had ever been able to achieve and it was comforting to revel in the quiet, even as you climbed into the car and an old rock song began to play.

As Bradley tapped his fingers along to the song on the radio, you took the opportunity to study him. He sat, bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, side profile exactly as you remembered. There were a few minute changes - the mustache, most notably; he’d learned to style his hair, and he’d lost some of the chub of his cheeks - but you were reminded of why you’d always fawned over him.

There was something magnetic about him, something bright and beautiful that drew you in and kept you tethered in his orbit. He’d always been beautiful, both physically and mentally, and you were grateful for the chance to reconnect. It’d been too long, too many years apart, and there was little explanation other than fate for your reconciliation.

However, all too soon, you found yourselves parked in the lot of your building and heading up the sidewalk to your door.

“This was nice,” you conceded, breaking the silence that had lingered on as you stopped at the top of the steps. “I missed this.” With only a split second of consideration, brain working on overdrive to rid itself of any doubt, you admitted, “I missed you.”

Bradley, whose smile was as soft as you remembered and whose gentle gaze made your chest ache pleasantly, nodded. “I missed you, too.” The agreement was easy, ready, as he took a tentative step closer. “I’m glad you said yes to tonight. I was kind of afraid you wouldn’t.”

“I never considered saying anything other than yes.” There’d been no real thought, no other answer you could’ve given him. Though your relationship ended way back when, it was of no fault of his. The pair of you were simply in different places in life, both wanting something you couldn’t give at the time, and he’d always been the one that got away. Getting a second chance was more than you could’ve asked for. “I’m really glad we bumped into each other.”

It was a moment of serendipity, a coincidence you hadn’t imagined would happen, and you knew Bradley was just as happy for the chance as he nodded his agreement.

Another step closer, another soft smile, as Bradley seemed to weigh his words. “I didn’t know if we’d see each other again,” he admitted, voice quiet as he closed the distance between you. “I always wanted to, always thought about reaching out, but I… I’m just glad the decision was made for us.”

That fear you both shared - the fear that there would never be a right time, that a reconciliation would only end in heartache - went unspoken but you knew it was shared. And as Bradley lifted his hand, soft and warm as it pressed to your cheek, you melted into his touch.

“I want to do this right this time,” he declared, voice soft and washing over you as your eyes fluttered. “I don’t want to rush and fuck it all up again.”

“No one fucked it up last time,” you reminded him, tone matching his as you gripped his bicep softly. “It was just the wrong time. Things are different now, though.”

“Second time’s the charm.” His easy agreement was all you needed to close the small space between you once more, returning your lips to his in another soft kiss.

The second chance was what you both needed, another shot at a love you’d missed so dearly, and you were glad to have gotten it. No matter what happened, you were hopeful that this time, the second time would be the charm.

_______________________________________________________

Author's Note: Dunno, man. Just feeling soft. Working on some Hangman smut now, though, cause that damn photoshoot.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​, @silversprings-mp3​

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Both question and request :)

First off, I wonder where you’re from? You always update when it’s either super late or super early where I’m from and it makes me curious

Now for the request. I wondered if you could write about Tom and another guitarist having a real enemies to lovers kind of thing. Like for some reason they despise each other but eventually they end up being forced to interact more and more. Both of them would deny the other is not that bad ofc ;)

(Hello! Thank you for asking and I post a lot just when I have time lmao but I am from California! Nothing special and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Enemies to Lovers with Tom Kaulitz

There literally was no explanation

You just hated each other for no goddamn reason

From what you could remember at least

Your groups met up, and maybe he gave you a look, maybe you didn't like his attitude or you or him made a comment

You guys were very competitive over who was better at their craft so that was probably it

You guys just despised each other

Which was pretty bad since you guys had to be close together almost all the time

Why?

Your bands were friends with each other and your producers had the great idea to do some sort of Collab since both bands were similar

You and Tom were at each other's throats the entire time you had to be close together

And what was worse?

Fans seemed to not care, seemingly putting you guys together as a ship they thought was cute

It seemed like they wanted to torture you

They seemed to love the "tension" between you two, as the tabloids put it

And worse, you were scheduled to do photoshoots and interviews with Tom with just you two

Maybe it was the work of everyone together

Hint, it was

Mainly Bill and the lead singer in your band, they got annoyed with how much you guys would throw insults

So they forced you guys to be in shoots, interviews, videos, anything to make it get better

They didn't think it would work, but they indeed did try

At first it was rough, the worst it ever seemed to be with you and Tom

You thought he was an asshole and he thought you were stuck up and boring for thinking he was an asshole

But somehow and someway, you both seemed to dwindle together

It took so long, but the more and more time you spent together, you actually forgot why you hated each other

Instead of both of you being miserable, you forced yourselves to talk to one another to try and at least not annoy your band mates

And it actually worked

You found out you both had shit in common, liked certain hang out spots, had almost similar hobbies and obviously, you both loved being the electric guitar and guitarist for your bands

Somehow that was a even ground for you two

But it didn't stop there, Tom thought it would be funny to flirt and mess with you

And that's how you both ended up "playfully" throwing both flirty and actual insults to one another

One day you could be at each other's throats, one day you could be cool and be fine as hell

Nobody knew what to expect but it was certainly better than before

Everybody was just glad that you two seemed to finally get along, but were even annoyed more at how you both still kept up the act of thinking the other one was a bitch

Thinking the other is "not that great"

Or in your words

"sucks fucking ass"

You both refused to actually admit the other wasn't all that bad

Until you both were caught making out backstage of a set

Kinda hard to deny when your friends have video footage and photos

[akutasoda]

FLUFF HCS FOR BSD CHARACTERS BUT READER IS RESCUED FROM AN ABUSIVE ORGANIZATION? Reader used to be in abusive organization that mostly used their (and other members) abilities and now is working in the ADA for a short time (idk mbh a 2/3 weeks or a month its up to u actually)🔥⁉️ not very talktive and sometimes acts weird because of how they used to be treated in the abusive organization but seems to actually get along with someone🔥🔥⁉️

🌚…

would like to request Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai and Atsushi / Kenji (platonic ofc) + characters u want to add⁉️🔥⁉️

ILY UR WRITING❤️❤️❤️

new beginnings

synopsis - after moving away from a dark past, you quite quickly became connected with a new coworker

includes - atsushi, dazai, yosano, ranpo, kenji

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, comfort, implied past unhealthy relations, wc- 1.3k

a/n: hellooo! thank you so much!

you had been found by fukuzawa. found and swiftly taken in, the fate of your previous coworkers was unknown but you had made it out. fukuzawa had held your entrance exam himself, he understood your circumstances and therefore made the exception.

he had also made the decision to hide the reason for your sudden appearance in the agency and you always were very happy that people didn't ask you where you had come from. you tried to act like nothing had ever happened, but that was truly impossible. but, much to fukuzawa's happiness, you had started to bond with a particular new coworker...

atsushi nakajima ★↷

your relationship with the weretiger had manly stemmed from having temporarily sharing a desk during his first days at the agency. and in someway he had learned that you too had not been here long. and so he kind of started looking to you for help naturally, apart from when dazai was around.

he didn't think much of your strange nature, instead he just saw it as you. he even suggested early on that you both stick together - you both were rather new and could do with helping the other out! and to your own surprise you had accepted his simple offer, when fukuzawa heard of this he was simply estatic. and even when atsushi finally gained his own desk you still spoke to him the most.

it eventually got to the point where you two were practically joined at the hip, helping each other navigate through working at the agency. he never minded how little you talked he did admit that around you he seemed to talk a bit more - as if he had some new confidence. but you two had grown very close, his overly kind nature made you feel at ease in a way, and eventually you felt he could be trusted.

you never imagined telling anyone about your past, but here you were. a moment of weakness that wasn't exploited by atsushi and instead offered nothing but comfort. he could in a small way relate, after all his orphanage wasn't the best. but that meant you two could only support each other more, help each other even more.

osamu dazai ★↷

he was always eccentric, wether it was genuine or not you found it intriguing. you had felt naturally drawn to him but never imagined him holding the same interest to you ever. but in your first few days of working at the agency he had found intrest in you. firstly from your sudden appearance and weird lack of a collective entrance exam but then mainly from your personality and overall demeanour.

and thus started your relation with the man. it was quite unlikely, he was outgoing while you rather stayed to yourself but they do say opposites attract. and in that sense it worked. he never mided how you acted nor your weird personality, if anything it added to your charm. he always held the intrigue of why you were so suddenly part of the agency but was very glad he had met you.

he had felt that maybe this could be a genuine relationship with someone. he felt he could connect in a way that baffled him and the whole thing just felt right. and so your relation with dazai never wavered, it stayed very strong all the time and naturally you two just became closer and closer. admittedly he did bring out some more confidence in you.

and hence whatever way, it accidentally slipping out in conversation or you deciding he could be trusted, he found out about your past, why you so suddenly came to be at the agency. and in a way he sympathised with you, he too had come from a not so nice previous workplace - maybe he could tell you later. but that seemed to only strengthen your relationship, and now he wanted to help you.

akiko yosano ★↷

you had fist met the doctor through her striking up conversation with you. on your first day she had noticed how shy you had been but she kind of thought it was just initial nerves so wanted to make it less nerve wracking for you. and she reconned she may be one the best for a first impression, and thus striked up conversation. and in your opinion she did work in calming some nerves.

and overtime you would naturally seek out her company as currently the only person you didn't mind talking to, fukuzawa was very happy you both got along. she never minded how you acted. she had met her fair share of different people under different circumstances and thus she never minded she only saw it as you.

naturally after spending most your time with the doctor, you became very close. she was genuine and very kind towards you and that made you feel like she was trustworthy of the truth. and thus you had told her. and she was probably the best person you could've told. she had a similar experience with after the great war and maybe she would tell you about that and that meant she understood it on a more personal level. and therefore she would offer nothing but support.

ranpo edogawa ★↷

ranpo had interested you from day one. he was very confident and self-assured, something you no longer were. but no matter what you found him interesting but never imagined him actually taking an interest in you thus keeping to yourself. but in honesty, ranpo probably helped save you in the first place or atleast contributed in some way. so maybe he did already know.

and therefore, if he did, it would only be natural for you two to naturally gravitate towards the other. and therefore you felt as if ranpo was a somewhat safety net when first navigating the agency. and he was more than happy to do so. but it became more than that and therefore you two would be genuine friends.

and as mentioned before, he either helped and therefore knew or he did deduct why you acted the way he did - not that he minded. and thus it kind of spared you from telling him, and he had always helped you from day one of the agency and he would continue to do so forever.

kenji miyazawa ★↷

kenji had approached you on your first day at the agency. he was one of if not the first to actually talk to you and it was because he wanted to greet you and he found you interesting in your own right. you had felt compelled to indulge the boy and talk to him, but the more you did so the more it became genuine to talk with him. he provided a happiness that was very rare to you.

therefore you two had grown quite close, not that he'd admit but he did start seeing you as a older sibling or if not his best friend. he enjoyed spending time with you and didn't see a difference with your weird habits and behaviour, to him that was just who you were and he admired it. he saw you as a sort of role model to him and would always try and make time to hang around you.

you never wanted to burden the light hearted boy with your spotty past. instead whenever he asked you about the topic you would simply put it as a 'not so great time', to which he would offer you support and remind you taht it was all better now. but if you did tell him the truth for whatever reason, his support would only double tenfold, he can't stand seeing you upset.

[n-agiz]

F1 DRIVER! FUSHIGURO TOJI HCSㅤfluff + smut [ fem! reader ] cws creampie + fingering & oral (f) + minimal finger sucking ! MDNI

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who meets you randomly in a dinner his team held and that you had been invited to. you sat beside him, and he tries to argue with himself and convince himself that he can't hit on you — you are there with someone else, most definitely a boyfriend, and even if the guy sat next to you isn't your partner you're still most definitely taken by someone else, because there’s no way such a pretty girl doesn't have someone to go home to at night. so he stays in his lane, talking with his teammate instead, trying to focus on something or someone else, but then you tap his arm, and it's so gentle he almost misses it, but still turns to look at you, and can't help himself but almost chuckle in endearment at how cute you look, very clearly shy and maybe even nervous.

"i- i'm sorry, uhm, but i was wondering if i could get an autograph? i'm a really big fan of yours!" and toji almost cries at that moment because he has never felt so happy someone approached him first. he smiles at you, as charming as he possibly can, and says sure, this time actually laughing when you pull out a photo of him with his car out of your purse. he looks up towards the guy sat next to you, who has been watching over your entire interaction, and who he eventually learns is actually your brother who works alongside his team's director, when he says with a soft smile that you had been looking forward to meeting him, at which you turn to look at him with a sliver of anger coating your expression, slapping your brother for seemingly embarrassing you. toji chuckles, giving you your autograph and taking the chance to engage in a conversation with you, handing you a napkin with his number when your brother finally looks away from you two, having deemed your conversation innocent enough.

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who loves to talk to you about his job, especially because you're just as interested in it as he is! he answers your questions enthusiastically, and engages in conversation with you happily, loving how smoothly your talks always are, how it's easy to jump from one topic to another. he isn't cocky, which you're glad about because you did kind of expect it, and he never makes you feel dumb for asking something that might be obvious to him, also asking you questions when the theme switches to something you know more about, showing that he is genuinely interested in what you have to say, in getting to know you and the things you love and enjoy.

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who feels a bit taken aback when you two start dating and get spotted for the first time, knowing all the attention that will hit you now and how you might not want all of it. he is apologetic about it, saying he understands if you want to distance yourself a bit, warning you of the not so supportive comments that will come along with the congratulatory ones — so imagine how surprised he is when you say you're alright with whatever comes, sure that whatever random people say online won't change what you two have together, and that your trust in each other is what matters. toji hugged you tighter that day than he ever had before, grateful for having met you, and realizing just how lucky he actually was.

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who loves it when you come running to his arms whenever he achieves something good in his career, happy that you want to celebrate with him just as much as he wants to celebrate with you. he'll wrap you in a warm hug, fawning in adoration at how you giggle while stuffing your face into his neck, his immediate reaction being to lift you up and spin you around, feeling absolutely euphoric in that moment.

you'll say your congratulations when he eventually puts you down, a large smile adorning your features, and toji will inevitably lean down to kiss you, large hands cupping your cheeks in a peck that he stretches out on purpose, never ready enough to let go of you.

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who, when he gets pole position, always comes to your hotel room with a mischievous grin on his scarred lips, eyes already darkening in lust as he puts his hands around your waist, guiding you to lay down on the bed.

"i need good luck for tomorrow, will you be my lucky charm?" he asks, already undressing himself. you simply giggle at him and his stupid pick up lines, saying a happy "yes" before stretching your arms out for him, inviting him to move closer to you, starting to kiss him again — this time more passionately than you did before when there were people around, lust and desire lacing your touches as you drown yourselves in one another.

F1 DRIVER! TOJI who fucks you silly when he does well on qualifying or practice, but is even more merciless when he does actually win a race, adrenaline still running through his veins from when he crossed the finish line first and held the trophy in his hands as he rams into you, fingers wrapped around your wrists and holding them above your head while his free hand presses into your lower stomach, thumb toying with your clit rhythmically.

his hips snap against yours rapidly, strong thighs forcing your legs to stay open even if they instinctively try to close from the pleasure coursing through you. you'll never get tired of how good his dick feels stretching you out, how his tip kisses your cervix with every thrust, or how his cock twitches inside you anytime you clench a bit too hard around him. he fills you up so well, it almost feels like he has molded your pussy for him.

toji's cheeks always flush a pretty shade of pink when he fucks you this hard, small droplets of sweat making his hair stick to his forehead and deep groans and pants flying past his lips with every other thrust. you can tell he is close when he holds you harder and when his abs start to flex, his impending orgasm making his hips falter until he is finally filling you up with warm cum, guttural moans occupying the space when his movements finally stop for a second.

he is breathless, vision hazy with pleasure and body close to giving out — but toji still bends down to lay between your thighs, not happy until you have also cum. two of his fingers slide into you, getting wet with your slick and his own cum, and he gives you one last look before starting to move them slowly, bending them upwards to hit that sweet spot of yours, while also flicking his tongue against your clit, circling and sucking on the sensitive nub eagerly. with how close you had already been, it doesn't take you too long to hit your high, moaning toji's name loud as your thighs close around his head, your fingers wrapping around and pushing strands of his hair while he helps you ride out your orgasm, only backing away when overstimulation starts to hit you and you begin pushing him. without a second thought, toji moves up, hovering over you with his face centimeters away from yours, his eyes focused on you as he taps the two fingers that had just been inside your pussy on your bottom lip, pushing them into your mouth, making you taste himself and yourself, before he finally kisses you, groaning against you and at how good you two taste together.

N-AGIZ '23ㅤ REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED !

[sleepiexx]

Valeria Garza x fem reader. Reader and Valeria were once lovers until one day she disappeared and a few years later on a mission to capture El Sin Nombre the reader finds out what she has been doing all this time.

Back When I Loved You

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader

Link to Pt.2

Note: so sorry this took like for-fucking-ever, I’ve been working so fucking much I never write anymore 😭😭 I’m so glad I got this done, I needed to write this. Also, I switched to y/n instead of (Y/N) bc I did a survey and it said most ppl prefer y/n, tell me if u think that’s dumb

Summary: It’s been years since y/n had been stationed in Las Almas, returning opens some old wounds she hadn’t realized never healed.

Warnings: death mention (no one actually dies), soap is a slut, uhhh not much else rlly

Word Count: 3345

Quite a peculiar phenomenon, “the one that got away.” The idea of an old flame that was never allowed to fully ignite and crackle into something beautiful, never quite coming to fruition. The kind of love that leaves you wondering what could have been had circumstances been different, desperately yearning for even the slightest taste of something more.

The topic came up one day as the task force sat around at a bar drinking, waiting for the assignment that they would inevitably have the next day. It started as Gaz recounted the story of how he met a girl before graduation and fell madly for her. Their story ends there with the fact that the moment Gaz realized how he had felt for her, he was being shipped off to boot camp, never to see his lost love ever again. He spoke of how deeply he regretted not pursuing a relationship with her, and how every time he goes home to visit his mother, a tiny part of him hopes to see her again.

Soap went next. Lord knows the man had many, many regrets and many stories regarding his love life, yet one took president in his mind. “She had the softest skin,” he had said, story veering off the main point and getting caught up on the details as it had nearly a million times, once about her hair, three times about her eyes, and now about how “baby soft” her skin was. Eventually— with a little pushing from the others— he told the full story, how he was on vacation, a rarity for him, and how he’d hit it off with this woman. Usually with his one night stands, it was purely sexual, no emotional connection whatsoever. Yet this time, Soap had found himself enchanted. After what he described as a “magical” night, she’d disappeared, and he never got the chance to give her his number.

“What about you, old timer, I’m sure you’ve got an old flame who escaped ya’,” Soap beamed, turning the conversation towards Price who smiled and nodded fondly to himself.

“She was-“ he sighed, “well, she was something.” No matter what he did, he couldn’t escape the smile that creeped up his cheeks as he told the story. A kind lover, she was. Made him breakfast in the mornings, listened as he complained about work— he was just a Lieutenant back then, but she listened. And she was always there. Until she wasn’t. The Captain’s story ever so slowly changed from happily reminiscing and took on a much more somber tone as Price recounted the fighting that led up to his break up with the woman. He had been coming up on the end of his contract with the British Army and she had wanted him to stay with her, start a family, but Price had been in the military for a long time. He had no clue what life would even be like outside of the Army. And so he reenlisted. He spoke about how deeply he regretted that, how there were nights that he woke up and just imagined how his life could have panned out had he stayed with her. Would he be awoken by their kids pouncing up and down on him, rather than the ever-present nightmares he gets as his current wake up call? He would never know, and that would haunt him to this day.

Price took a big swig of whiskey at the melancholy thought, turning the attention toward y/n, “What about you, kid? You’re still young, hopefully no sad stories yet?”

Y/n shook her head, “I don’t see it as sad, more so I see it as I’m happy I got that experience. Yeah I’m upset that it never went anywhere but I’m glad that it happened period.” She smiled, happy with her answer but the others stared on with shocked looks. “What?” She asked.

Soap’s eyes were wide, “Well you can’t just say all o’ that and then just not tell us the story.” He shook his head, flabbergasted, “We all told you, save for Ghost but the man’s already very private, so now it’s your turn.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, “yeah, yeah,” she took a sip of her drink, a little liquid courage to help loosen the story out of herself, “I was stationed in Mexico for some time. Beautiful country, beautiful people, I loved every second of it. Every night I would go out with my American buddies on the town and we would just fuck around, have some fun. Well one night I’d gotten separated, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe they ditched me, I don’t know, we don’t really talk anymore so I don’t think I ever will. But anyways, as you do when you’re drunk and alone, I found trouble. Some man came up to me with a knife, tried to rob me, I was really in no state to fight back, but in comes this woman to defend me. I’d seen her around the base before, she was Mexican Special Forces, I knew that. I also knew how goddamn hot she was. With her tattoos running all up and down her toned arms, and how enchanting her deep brown eyes were.”

The team immediately got chatty at that, hyping her up. “L/n with the moves,” one of them had teased. She laughed, feeling blood pumping in her face.

“So anyways, she jumps in and fights the guy for trying to rob me while I was so drunk. I was absolutely slack-jawed. I’d never had anyone fight so fiercely for me in my life, especially not a stranger, and even more especially not a stranger I had a huge crush on. I remember her turning to me, once the dude was down for the count and just saying ‘you okay?’ I can remember her exact tone and god, it made me melt. She walked me back to my barracks and I was done for. The very next day I sought her out and told her I’d buy her a drink to make up for it. Thus started an epic romance.”

Y/n grinned as the others piped in with their little comments, excited to finally get to talk about her lost love after all this time.

“For months we went out together, dancing, talking, drinking, everything else that comes along with a relationship,” she smirked at that, face only dropping as she got the ‘getting away’ part, “and, uh, we were happy, y’know. I could see myself having a future with this woman. But as life has it, I was stationed elsewhere while she had been on a mission. I tried calling the base a few times.” She stopped to collect her breath, “but, uh, I was told that her and her squad went MIA on that mission. Likely killed in action is what they said.”

She sniffled a little bit, hoping it was unnoticeable by her teammates. Shaking her head as she finished her drink, and began to stand she turned to them for a final time, “I’m gonna turn in for the night it’s getting late.”

The rest of them nodded, waiting until she was gone to quietly chat amongst themselves. She was the topic of choice, of course. How bad they all felt for her. How guilty they felt for bringing it up. Ultimately it wasn’t their fault but they felt awful. Not too long after, they themselves all turned in, awaiting what the next day would have for them.

Months later, after many missions, and after the conversation they had had slipped away from them, the task force found themselves on their way to Mexico in search of the infamous cartel leader, El Sin Nombre. No one dared to mention y/n’s past, but of course, they weren’t completely discreet with their fleeting looks.

Despite their knowledge of y/n’s deployment to a base in Mexico, they were still shocked to see that the Colonel as well as some of the soldiers of the Las Almas base knew her.

“Y/n! Long time no see, last I saw you, you were still just a private.” Colonel Alejandro Vargas said, patting her on the shoulder in greeting as the group got off their chopper.

Y/n smirked, “could say the same to you. Wonder who died and made Lieutenant Vargas into the colonel of the Mexican Special Forces.”

Alejandro rolled his eyes and went to counter, but the man next to him made himself known with a contagious laugh. The task force could see sparkles in y/n’s eyes at the sound.

“Rudy!” She shouted, happily enveloping the giggly man into a hug.

“Hi, y/n.” He smiled, hugging her back just as tight.

In the midst of it all, Captain Price couldn’t help but clear his throat to get the group’s attention. “I hate to break this up,” he said, thick British drawl dragging out every word, “but we really do have some pressing matters to take care of.”

Y/n and Rodolfo split, standing at attention. Alejandro spoke for them, “you are right, there will be plenty of time to catch up once this is all over.”

They each nodded in agreement, eager to get to the task at hand.

It was no easy feat. Despite not really keeping up with the news in Las Almas since she had been gone, y/n knew just how bad cartels could get. That paired with the frustration that seemed to radiate from Alejandro every time El Sin Nombre was mentioned, he had to be some bad, bad motherfucker.

Soap went in under no guise or cover, walking right up to the front door and presenting himself like meat to hungry wolves. Y/n and Alejandro, on the other hand, terminated nearly half a dozen cartel soldiers, stealing their masks and outfits to fit right in to the party.

They surveilled Soap throughout, following closely behind, making sure no actual cartel soldiers noticed him. They followed him right to the third floor, right to El Sin Nombre. When the name Valeria left Soap’s mouth after looking through the snake cam, y/n and Alejandro made eye contact, both feeling a similar nausea at the thought.

But they shook it off.

It couldn’t possibly be her, right? She died on a mission targeting the son of La Araña, didn’t she? Sure she was officially determined MIA but a person doesn’t get lost this long, not like this.

Sure enough, as the door burst open, through the hail of bullets being shot across the room both to and from cartel higher ups, there she was.

The shock was evident on y/n’s face as she saw the woman kneeling on the roof. She saw short, dark hair and shook. It’s not her, it can’t be her. But it was. She could tell by the dark eyes carefully watching her every move as she walked behind the woman, pulling her hands down around the woman’s body and behind her back to cuff them.

Y/n prayed the woman couldn’t feel the tremor in her hands, but she knew all too well. Once upon a time the dark-haired woman knew every detail about her, it almost seemed as though that hadn’t changed.

Few words were uttered on the chopper back to the Vaquero’s base— save for a few “shut up Graves,”’s since the man refused to stop talking all smug, as though he was the sole reason El Sin Nombre had finally been caught— but a million things went unsaid as y/n avoided the Vaqueros’ gazes. The rest of the 141 were none the wiser to the fleeting looks that the Vaqueros shared.

The waiting period was long and drawn out as the woman was processed. Of course she had to have her prints and DNA taken, it’s never as simple as getting to talk to her first.

The anticipation was getting to y/n, who was anxiously chewing her nails down to the beds, leaving them jagged and slightly bloody.

The door clicked open, catching the room’s attention, “She’s been fully processed, whenever you’re ready you may begin the interrogation.” The soldier in the doorway stepped aside, clearing the path for the 141, the Colonel, and his second in command to pass.

They walked swiftly and with precision as they borderline-prowled their way down to the storage container that held the woman. Price took the lead as y/n and Alejandro fell behind, dragging their feet. Rudy followed behind the two, making sure neither avoided the inevitable.

Graves was the first to open his mouth, gesturing to both Alejandro and Valeria, “explain how you two know each other?”

Words, glares, and taunts were exchanged as they began the story.

“Go on, tell them.” Alejandro commanded.

Valeria scoffed, “I don’t take orders anymore, even the dogs in Las Almas know not to bark at me.” Valeria’s eyes caught y/n’s hesitant form as she spoke the last part.

Alejandro angrily shook his head, “she’s ex-military, we served together.”

Despite their distances, and their long time apart, the two shared a perfect flow when telling the story.

“Different squads, same unit.” Valeria began, “you were the wild ones, huh? Los Vaqueros.”

Alejandro grinned at her words.

Her gaze once more shifted to y/n, “my squad was clean cut señoras y señores.”

“Until the raid on the son of La Araña,” Valeria smirked at the sentence, Alejandro continued. “Her team was told to cordon of the city to ward off La Araña’s enforcers and prevent the bloodshed.”

“That’s exactly what we did,” she smiled.

Alejandro’s anger only spiked at her smug face, “What, you kept out his enforcers because you were his enforcers, eh?”

Her voice was taunting, “he was escorted to the mountains without incident, also to prevent bloodshed.”

Y/n felt her stomach turn. All the time she spent sobbing over Valeria and yet all the while the woman was running around doing all sorts of illegal activities.

Rudy piped in, almost as shocked at the realization as y/n, “he was supposed to go to prison.”

Graves grabbed Valeria’s shoulder, pulling her back, and further pissing off y/n. “So you killed him. And you took over.”

“I created a power vacuum, and I filled it. Las Almas needs me.”

The moment his hands looked as though they were about to wander, y/n was upset, nearly growling out a rage-filled “hands off.”

Graves lifted his hands off of the woman as if he’d been burned, holding them up. “Woah, woah, woah. What’s with you getting all feisty over the prisoner?”

Y/n just glared, gaze unmoving.

“Holy shit,” Gaz whispered, glancing between y/n and Valeria, “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Y/n’s eyes softened in confusion, turning her attention to Gaz, “Pardon?”

The rest of the team seemed to come to the same realization as him, moments before he spoke, “Her. She’s Her. You said you had a romance with a soldier while stationed in Mexico, a soldier who went missing. With what Alejandro said, the stories line up, Valeria is the woman you were in love with, isn’t she?”

Y/n broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed, still enraged, altogether hot in the face as she stared at the floor. “Yeah,” she admitted hesitantly, “yeah, it’s her.”

Valeria’s eyes were stuck to her down-trodden form, smirking at the fact that she now knew; y/n had talked about her. Y/n talked about her to her team. A sweet little thought.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,“ Valeria spoke cockily, “you sure weren’t ashamed of it when we were in love.”

When we were in love.

The words stung. The wound was old, yet here it had been ripped open as if it had happened mere days ago.

“Yeah, well that was before you left me to join the cartel.”

Valeria scoffed, “Join it? Please, I fucking run it. Besides, I think you forget that you’re the one who left.”

As the tension rose between the former lovers, the atmosphere in the room became rather awkward. The 141, the Vaqueros, and the few Shadows who were in the room sat staring dumbly at each other, wondering just how long they should let this go on

“You wanna go there? As I recall, you left weeks before I was deployed on what I thought was a mission. Turns out you went off with your little druggie friends to play gangster. I called the base a million times, they told me you were dead!”

Valeria stood from her seat abruptly, causing everyone else in the room to reach for their guns. Neither y/n, nor Valeria stood down. Y/n gestured for the others to leave the room, they hesitated but eventually followed her command. Now face to face, feeling each other’s breaths on their cheeks, the two seethed.

“I bet you would have liked that, huh?” Valeria started, eyes set into a deep glare, “me being dead would have made this so much easier for you, no loose ends.”

If y/n didn’t know any better, she would think this was Valeria trying to get y/n to kill her, death before snitching after all. But y/n knew her, knew suicide wasn’t her calling. This wasn’t a plead for death, this was a challenge. Fuck with me, I dare you.

Y/n’s lips turned downward into a gritty scowl. Even through her anger, tears managed to slip their way through her glaring eyes at the thought of her ever wanting Valeria dead.

“Never.” She whispered, voice cracking, “I cried every night for you for months, Valeria. I loved you so much, god, I still fuckin’ do.”

She reached into her shirt, pulling out two sets of dog tags and gripping tightly onto one of them. The ones she held, Valeria knew very well. They matched the ones she kept tucked under her shirt. An old pair that she had given to y/n way back when; they were the ones she was issued as a sergeant, before she reached lieutenant status and received the ones she currently wore all these years later.

And all at once, Valeria felt her heart shatter.

All these years she had spent letting her anger toward y/n fester and grow, thinking she had just abandoned her. All these years and yet all the while, y/n was devastated. They told y/n she died. Y/n thought she was dead. Y/n mourned her, cried for her, hurt for her. And here was Valeria, yelling at her.

She softened her stiff posture, cautiously reaching out for y/n. Valeria cupped y/n’s cheek, and for a while they just sat there like that. Time passed but it felt like nothing compared to the eternity they had missed together. Y/n finally looked up. In one fell swoop, Valeria crashed her lips to y/n’s

The kiss was all consuming, destroying any distractions in its path as the lovers made up for lost time. Caution was thrown to the wind with neither girl worried about their positions and duties. In this kiss they were not El Sin Nombre nor Sergeant l/n, they were just lovers. Just Valeria and y/n, reunited.

What felt like a million hours were lost in each other’s lips. As they separated, Valeria’s eyes opened, y/n’s stayed shut. Valeria stared, waiting for y/n to reveal her gorgeous eyes, yet when the moment finally came, it hurt. Y/n’s eyes shined with sorrow, something Valeria could see very clear.

Valeria tried to reach forward, but y/n stepped back, clearing her throat, “this,” she sighed deeply, fighting internally with herself, “this cannot happen again.”

She turned her back toward Valeria, knowing it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. Knowing she would lose all composure and fold. But she stayed strong, and in a few short steps, she was out of the room.