#clearly a result of boredom

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a gamer reader who asks him to do gacha pulls for the new 5 star character (just imagine, you dont even have to go whale with such luck)

The House Always Wins

Summary: Aventurine is asked by you to perform a gacha pull for the coveted new five-star character. Confident in his legendary luck, he accepts the challenge. With a playful grin, he turns the moment into a wager: if he succeeds, you owe him a homemade dinner; if he fails, he’ll owe you a favor. To your amazement, he pulls the rare character on the first try.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Light Humor, Gamer!Reader, Playful Banter, Lighthearted, Manipulative Charm.

The evening glow from the city outside filtered into Aventurine's sleek, penthouse suite. The dark glass walls reflected the opulence within—roulette motifs on his tailored blazer, the gold trim of his accessories glinting faintly in the low light. Aventurine lounged on the velvet couch, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes lazily following your pacing figure.

You, on the other hand, were anything but composed. Clutching your phone tightly, you let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please, please, Aventurine," you begged, holding out your phone as if it were an offering to a deity. "I’ve been saving up for this banner for months, but I’ve got a streak of bad luck that’s—frankly—embarrassing. I need your touch. Your magic. Your insane luck."

He tilted his head back, a smirk curling on his lips. "Oh, darling, flattery will get you everywhere." His voice dripped with amusement as he gestured lazily for you to sit beside him. "But are you sure you want me to take the reins? What if I squander all your hard-earned currency on nothing but trash?"

"Not possible." You plopped down next to him, clutching your phone like a lifeline. "You could do a ten-pull blindfolded and still get the banner character and their weapon. You’re basically a walking gacha cheat code."

Aventurine chuckled, clearly relishing your faith in his supposed supernatural luck. "Very well, but remember: the house always wins, darling. I make no promises."

With a flourish, he plucked the phone from your hands and studied the screen, his eyes darting over the details of the banner. His finger hovered over the ‘Summon’ button, but instead of pressing it, he turned to you, his enigmatic smile widening.

"Let’s make this interesting," he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "If I manage to pull your precious five-star on the first try, you owe me dinner—cooked by you, naturally. But if I fail…" He paused, his smile turning sharp. "I’ll owe you a favor. Anything you desire."

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat—not just at the prospect of the pull, but at the idea of Aventurine owing you something. "Deal."

"Wonderful." He tapped the screen with a dramatic flair, as though sealing a pact with fate itself. The summoning animation began, glowing lights swirling on the screen.

The first few results were three-stars. A predictable disappointment. Aventurine clicked through them with mock boredom, his expression unreadable. But when the screen erupted in golden light, signaling a five-star pull, he raised a brow, his smirk deepening.

"And there it is," he drawled, turning the screen toward you. The banner character's splash art filled the display, the rarest gem of the event staring back at you in all their glory.

You blinked, stunned. "You—how? On the first pull?"

"Darling, I did warn you." He handed the phone back with a smug flourish, leaning back on the couch as if the whole affair had been beneath his notice. "Luck follows me like a loyal hound. Or perhaps…" He trailed off, his gaze locking with yours. "Perhaps it’s just your influence."

Your face burned, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of flustering you completely. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

"Ah, but you love it," Aventurine teased, his tone dripping with self-assured charm. "Now, about that dinner you owe me…"

You groaned, half in exasperation, half in disbelief. "I’m never living this down, am I?"

"Not a chance," he replied, his smile softening just a fraction. "But I’ll make it worth your while. After all, life’s a gamble, and tonight, you’ve made quite the winning bet."

[honeykaes]

inside/out

wriothesley x convict!reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, convict!reader,  fingering, squirting, marking, biting, piercings, rough sex, hate sex, office sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, you and wriothesley are exes, angst, degradation, domestic disputes, set in fontaine before the traveler comes, fontaine plot points references, discussions of legal systems and injustice, mention of drugs, discussion of murder, open ending for interpretation, unedited

synopsis: you swore that you would leave the fortress of meropide when your sentence was done. And when you do, your relationship with wriothesley sours as your two break up. Five years later, you're shocked to end up right back in the iron prison where he’s there waiting for you.

The world seemed so distant to you. The whispering throughout sounded as if it were an untuned violin as they lapped up the drama they so desperately craved in their lives. The Oratrice Mécanique D'analyse Cardinale clicked in the irritating orchestra about to come up with its verdict. 

The lawyer next to you fumbled with his papers with a look of shame and defeat in his eyes. Out of everyone in this room, you felt for him. He would surely bounce back with the next chum in your position.

The loud smacking of a cane caused the whispering to dissipate as you finally lifted your head up to witness the Iudeux of Fontaine.His eyes seemed heavy with sorrow. This wasn’t the first time you had witnessed this expression directed at you. Your eyes flickered to your God, Furina yawning as she whispered something to herself in her boredom.

 You can’t help feeling irked at her expression; at all of their expressions.

Why were these people allowed to judge you? 

The only answer you could find was justice was only for the privileged lucky, and you clearly had run out of it.

The contraption glowed, as Neuvillette collected your sentence.

“Under Article D of the Fontainian Code of Law, you are found guilty of fraud. Under Article J of Fontainian Law, you are found guilty of tax evasion…” he rambled on as you bit your lip.

It seemed that the rumors were right, after all. Most people who come out of the Fortress of Meropide find themselves right back in.

”And finally you are guilty of 1st degree murder of your former business partner, Henry Maugham. As a result, you will be serving a life sentence at the Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette announced.

You couldn’t help chuckling, covering your mouth from the cruel smile on your face. The whispering sparked once more, heavy eyes judging every movement you made. You finally lifted your hand away, smiling at the judge, but your eyes remained cold on Neuvillette’s somber ones

”Glad to see you never change, Monsieur."

The Melusine officers escorted you down to the Meropide, with only a small sack of clothes you were allowed to bring. From the photos, to the pat downs, it all seemed nostalgic to you. How many familiar faces would you see? You assumed quite a few.

This underwater prison you desperately wanted to escape from in the past, would be your sole future.

Finally finished with orientation, you threw your sack on your assigned bed sitting down, looking down on the steel ground.  With the bed squeaking, your roommates whisper, feeling the heavy air as they make their escape and let you have some space.  

Just as you sigh, thankful to have the room briefly to yourself to process, credit coupons hovered in your view as you looked up to see a tiny girl. Her long ear twitched in anticipation, ruby eyes gleaming at you, but at the same time, held pity in them.

”It’s nice to see you again. I really thought I wouldn’t have the opportunity once you left five years ago,” she chimed, brushing a bit of her baby blue hair.You looked at the tickets trying to give it back to her silently but she puffed her cheeks and shook her head.

”No! Think about it like this; this is for all the birthdays I missed,” she reasoned. You sighed, moving to massage the headache threatening to form.

-”...Sigwienne…why are you here? I’m sorry but-”

”Don’t apologize!” she interrupted, ears slightly drooping. “I, of all people, knew how much you wanted to get out. I-I’m here because the Duke wanted to see you.”

”No.”

”Please! I thought you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore,” she pleaded as eyes blew wide, pleading.Your gaze grew more bitter: 

“So he sent you to soften the blow or some shit,” you grunted. Sigwienne furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment before you clicked your tongue catching your mistake.

”Sorry…language. I know…” you muttered. Your eyes looked up to see a guard at the door, glaring down at you. It seems she was the nice “cop” and if you kept refusing her, he would get involved. You turn back to Sigwienne’s pleading gaze.

”Fine. Lead the way…” you grumbled getting up from your place. Sigwienne smiled, clasping her tiny hand with yours. 

”Off we go then!”

The only solace Sigwienne gave was a timid smile, waving as the door to the Duke’s office closed, leaving you with a man you haven’t seen in five years.

Your former boyfriend. Honestly, the man you naively thought you’d have happily ever after with.

He took a sip of tea before sighing, throwing papers on his desk as he leaned into his chair that creaked from the shifting weight. His hair was the same, black with odd streaks of gray hair he always had. He had a few new piercings on his ears though. 

”In all these years, I didn’t think I’d see your face again,” he murmured.Your jaw tense and eyes narrowed. His voice seemed as irritating as he’s ever been.

“You think I wanted you to see your sorry ass again, Wriothelsey?” you barked back. -He clicked his tongue, rolling his icy eyes.

 “I can see you’re not over our breakup..” he grumbled, drumming his fingers on the desk. You crossed your eyes, looking down with him with all the defiance you could muster up.

”If that’s what you want to call you being a selfish prick, sure,” you replied back.Wriothesley's nostrils flared but he didn’t spout any insults back.

”I thought you said you wanted to change for the better,” he asked, grabbing a file and holding it up. Of course he knew everything. He knew the second you were preparing to dive down to the Meropide.

”I did and I was. As if I wanted to come down here again. You know that out of everyone! But, I forgot something, people are cruel. And now, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life,” you raised your hands out, proclaiming loudly.

”...Just like you wanted.”

”I did not want that and you know it!” he shouted. It seemed his temper had started to reflect out. Tension was thick in the air as you laughed.

”Oh, right. My mistake. No you wanted to stay in this shithole and be the king of it, how could I forget? Your heart only had room for one person—the Meropide— not me!”

He rose from his seat, face beginning to go red in anger.

”Don’t! I’m not playing this game with you! You know how much I loved you. I loved you so much but you knew there’s nothing out there for me.”

Nails dug in your palms hearing his response as your emotions were beginning to get to you. 

 “Well you would have made something with ME out there!” you yelled, tears beginning to weld in your eyes. You turned away, wiping your tears and shuttered. You felt embarrassed being right in the same position as you were when the two of you first broke up and crying in front of him again after years.

”...I wanted us to build a new life together. Our sentences finished at the same time. You could have left with me, but you didn’t,” you whispered, angrily wiping your face. Silence fell the both of you besides your occasional sniffle and his heavy footsteps walking closer to you.

-”...And I wanted us to build a new life together here. But I wasn’t going to stop you from getting out of the Meropide.”

A frustrated grunt ripped from you as you couldn’t hold your irritation anymore. You marched to him, glaring at his form towering over you. 

To your surprise, he leaned down and kissed you. And shocking you both, you kissed him back with just as much fervor. 

”Selfish. Blockheaded. Smug dick--” you stammered out  among the heated kisses, claiming your lips with every second. Nibbling on your bottom lip, his tongue darted in your parted mouth as you threw your arms around his shoulder. His kiss was of the familiar taste of Earl Grey you remembered he was so fond of.

“Moody, Frustrating, Manipulative asshole,” he grunted back. Article after article of clothing, fell on the floor as you fell onto his couch with a plop. Your hands ran across his firm stomach and chest.You gasped feeling his large palm cup against your sex.

”Still wearing the same underwear I smuggled in for our anniversary. I see you’re still a cheapskate or are you just sentimental?” he grunted  in your ear. His finger firmly brushed across your clit, pleasure soon beginning to reverberate throughout  your lower form. You groan, hitting his toned thigh.

”Shut the fuck up!”

Wriothesley slid your panties down until they caught on your ankle as his fingers glided along the bare cunt. He rubbed your clit with his calloused thumb.

”I see you still have rough ass hands,” you chimed. Wriothesley rolled his eyes, before chuckling.

”Yet you can’t get enough of them as always” he shot back. Fingers slowly sank inside of you as you threw your head back. His digits curled and stretched you out, tenderly pumping at a decent pace as you squirmed under his touch.

His hips bucked slightly against your thigh where you could feel how hard his cock was, desperately pressed against his gray slacks.He hitched your legs over his broad shoulders as he nibbled your inner thighs—leaving a wake of discolored marks and soft bite marks.

”Fuck! Fuck!”you whined out, hands shooting out to pull his soft hair. Your legs caved in closer to his cheeks as he pumped his faster.

He leaned in, letting his tongue brush against your clit as it was the last thing to push you over. Back arched, fluid spraying from you as he continually lapped at your overstimulated cunt as the liquid made a mess of his face and the couch. 

As your body fell, breath heavy from your high, his fingers pulled out of you—walls unconsciously tightening, wishing they would stay. Satisfied with your fucked out expression, he smirked wiping his hand with his chin from your fluids. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him swirl his tongue around cleaning his fingers that were coated in your essence.

”Your face, it’s pissing me off,” you grunted. Wriothesley briefly laughed. Your heart fluttered momentarily. You hated how much you missed it.

“Said the person who squirted on my face. Been a long time hasn’t it, hm?” he teased. You glared before his eyes softened to something genuine.

”..Yeah, me too.”

He sat on his couch, shifting his pants down as his cock slapped on his lower stomach

He stroked his length as it pulsated in his grip. Every once and a while, a wavering moan left his lips. It seemed he had a new piercing too.

A Prince Albert piercing, glinting from the light and precum budding at his flushed tip.You shifted your hips, contemplating if you should go to the next step of someone that was your ex, but seeing him shutter, muffling his mouth and hearing your name was the push you needed.

”Fuck I missed you inside of me,” you groaned, kissing him. You hovered over his cock lining yourself up before sinking down. His hands found their way to the globe of your ass, grabbing the mounds tightly before you managed to reach his hilt.

”Like old times…” he whispered  out, hazy lust gazing over his eyes.

”Just like it…” you moaned.

His pace was relentless as you called out his name. His jaw was clenched, watching your slick dripped down your thighs and his cock as he continued to slam you down on it. Your whole body jumped, as his hips moved up to meet him pulling you down his cock.

”I missed you so fucking much. Your smile. Your voice…fuck your scent. I couldn’t sleep properly for months when you left.” he groaned. 

”I-I couldn’t either…fuck! There! Right there!!” you yelled out. HIs cock continued to press against your soft walls, hitting the spot that caused your voice to reach higher and higher, stomach churning as you almost hit your release.

“ ‘Thesley,” you cried out, nails harpooning into his back as you brought him closer to you. Your body shuttered, walls quivering and tightening. He clenched his jaw, having a harder time bouncing you on his cock.

”...I still fucking love you!” Wriothesley grunted, sinking his teeth into your neck. With one final rough thrust— his hips faltered—as thick ropes of cup jet out and inside of you. He slowly thrusted, moving to try to nurse down his high.

You shifted your neck, leaning his chin up before you kissed him once more. 

For a second, just for a second, it was like you never left him. That you two were still together.That you were in your early twenties, dumb and in love.

Wriothesley broke the kiss first as your fantasy was briefly shattered. His eyes were soft but clearly searching for something within yours. 

“...You still never told me why you are back here,” he replied. You groaned, and rolled your eyes pushing his face away as he grunted. You rose from him, his cum and your slick drooling from your hole before you went to grab your panties and put them back on.

Wriothesley merely sighed, lifting his boxers and pants back on. 

”...I was framed,” you admitted, putting your bra on. Just as Wriothesley was about to put his shirt on, he looked up in shock.

”What”

”Out there, I owned a small cute cafe. You know the one I always talked about based on a beloved classic, Les Aventures d’Alice au Pays des Merveilles,” you chuckled to yourself, recalling reading it to Sigwienne with Wriothesley at times. 

“ I didn’t have funds. Who would fund an ex-convict, y’know. But I met Henry, the aristocrat who promised my dreams. I thought things were going well until I discovered he had used the business as a front to sell absinthe.” You looked down, finally buttoning your shirt on and looking at Wriothesley’s somber face.

“He tried to kill me, I killed him first.”

Wriothelsey briefly closed his eyes processing the information before buttoning his own shirt.

“..But you know this country more than anyone else. He had power after death, and I was pinned with the crime by his frustrated associates,” you whispered, adjusting your color to hide the marks you knew Wriothesley left.

“I can help. We can catch them and get you back--” 

“There’s no point.” you sighed, but smiled. You chuckled humorlessly, walking to the door to his office. You clenched the handle, your back turned to hide your expression. 

Your real expression.

”I guess I wasn’t meant to be out there after all."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Player Number Forty-Four

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Baseball Player!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Tittyfucking, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sitting amongst thousands of baseball fanatics makes you realize one thing: You fucking hate this sport. You don’t get the point, you don’t know what’s happening half of the time. Maybe you’re just refusing to get the point because you didn’t want to come here in the first place. You were dragged here by a friend who got some last minute tickets– She claimed she got the best possible seats for a low price, and her date canceled on her. She didn’t want to come alone, and now you’re watching the game from what you assume is a great seat.

Too bad for you, you don’t understand much of what’s happening. You’re yawning in boredom because there’s not one interesting thing catching your attention. Baseball just isn’t the sport for you, you much rather would’ve liked sitting in the stadium for any other sport. Maybe soccer or tennis. 

You’re just watching Shoko sip on her beer, occasionally yelling but overall, her team seems to be doing well; you wouldn’t know if they weren’t doing well. She’s dressed just as you expected. She wears a jersey for the team that she’s supporting, the “Demon Dogs” (You found the name so fucking funny), and jeans.

“Shoko, when does the game end?” You ask, but she isn’t paying attention to you. Her eyes are staring at the pitcher that’s walking to the pitcher’s mound, and you watch her expression change. The back of her hand is slapping your collar bone, her eyes widening. Your eyebrows are furrowing as you look at her, extremely confused. “What the hell is up?”

“They’re bringing in Fushiguro.” Shoko informs you, but you have a big issue… You have no idea who Fushiguro is. You assume it’s the pitcher that spits onto the dirt as he walks to the pitcher’s mound that is outlined with a white circle. You blink slowly, getting her hand off you. You slightly shake your head, raising your eyebrows.

“I have no idea who he is.” You end up chuckling. It’s the man that’s about to pitch, you don’t know why she’s upset. The man that holds the baseball mitt is certainly a sight for sore eyes. At least from this distance. You just know that you nearly cry when his back is turned to you, leaving you to look at the number forty-four that’s on his jersey. 

“He’s their best pitcher. Maybe the best pitcher in the whole league.” Shoko answers. The little hope that the team that she’s rooting for would win, is now completely gone. Her arms are crossed and her lips are now pouty. “Probably were testing the waters with a new pitcher since Fushiguro can’t play forever… But that clearly didn’t work.”

“What was even happening?” You question, and she tries to explain how awful the first pitcher was: throwing bad pitches, which kept resulting in balls– You didn’t quite grasp the concept. You were too scared to ask anyway. You watch as the man turns his body forty-five degrees, raising his left leg before he throws the ball, and your eyes widen because that’s the fastest you’ve seen a ball travel. You hear Shoko huff, probably accepting that her team is going to lose. It happens two more times until the player is finally out, and another one walks up. “I’m no genius but you were right about Fushiguro.”

“I hate him.” Shoko rolls her eyes, causing you to laugh. You certainly don’t feel the same. You throw your arm over her and then lay your head on hers. 

“Why don’t you root for the better team? I think they’re selling their jerseys.” You joke, and she pushes you away. Before your conversation is over, Fushiguro has striked out another player.

“Why don’t you buy a jersey for that other team since you’re clearly rooting for them.” She says, and you’re nearly about to get up to do what she tells you. You feel awkward since you’re wearing a tank top and a push up bra, so you’ve definitely been getting stares. 

“I just might.” You answer. You almost miss the moment where the batter finally hits the fast ball, if you hadn’t paid attention, Shoko wouldn’t have gotten up to catch it and she would’ve gone home with a bump and bruise on her head– Or, the more likely outcome, someone else would’ve caught it. There’s a grin on her face as the batter runs from home, goes through all bases, and returns, without a sweat, back to the home base. 

She shows off the ball and hands it to you. You examine the ball before turning your attention to her. She looks smug before she tilts her head and asks, “Think you might change your mind?”

“Does your team have handsome players like Fushiguro?” You respond before you turn your attention back to the field. She taps your shoulder and then points at the player who just hit the homerun. He doesn’t look that bad, but you’re not too close so you can see him

“Don’t you think he looks good? He does have a girlfriend but–” She begins, and you roll your eyes. You block her out, watching the game at hand. You watch how Fushiguro does the same thing again, and even though you were expecting to see the ball move ridiculously fast, this time it seems like it curves. The batter hits it though, and it makes Shoko grip to her seat with a smile coming to her face. She shuts up about what she was talking about, but before the ball even hits the ground, it’s in Fushiguro’s hand. You almost laugh at how Shoko’s expression changes. She ends up sighing before saying, “Oh yeah, I was saying I wanted to fuck his girlfriend.”

“Who? Fushiguro’s?” You ask, making her click her tongue. She doesn’t bother reiterating, so you’re left clueless. You don’t care all that much either. You keep watching until Shoko’s team is on the pitching side and your Fushiguro’s team is on the batting side. You lose focus when you don’t see the man that you’re rooting for up there and batting. The man that’s pitching is the same man that Shoko was talking to you about earlier. What makes him stand out is his head of white hair. “How long is this game?”

“Why are you in a rush to leave?” Shoko sounds offended as she asks the question. You can’t even believe it because you thought you had made it obvious how you weren’t into the game at all. She doesn’t seem to pick up the cues though.

“I want him to sign the ball.” You keep it brief, and you assume that she immediately knows who it is. The same man that you’ve been talking about the past couple minutes. It amazes you how Shoko can sometimes… Completely miss the point.

“Who? Gojo?” She replies, and you exhale, holding back your laughter. You don’t even have an idea who Gojo is, but you assume it’s the pitcher, the one who hit the homerun. You shake your head.

“Fushiguro.” You answer, and she rolls her eyes.

“He didn’t even hit that ball.” She reminds you, but you so clearly don’t care. Before you can defend yourself she points to the field and informs you, “Speak of the devil, he’s coming up to bat.”

That’s what makes your eyes go to the field again, and then to the big screen that displays the field and allows you to look at the game better. Fushiguro’s brows are furrowed, his lips downturned as his eyes focus on the pitcher. You don’t care about his stance– Or maybe you do when you notice how big and muscular his arms are. Maybe you understand why people become fanatics of this boring sport because if you were to see a man like Fushiguro in every game, you’d devote yourself to the sport. 

Fushiguro gets a strike, and you almost groan disappointedly. You’re not into the game enough to actually express any sort of disappointment though. If he loses, he loses. He won’t stop being hot. But the second time around, Fushiguro hits the ball and almost knocks it out of the field. It makes you turn to Shoko and ask, “Do you know what his type is?”

“Why would I keep up with that loser?” Shoko responds, and sometimes she makes it so painfully clear that she’s into women. You try to keep up with the rest of the inning, but it’s hard when all the attention isn’t on Fushiguro. You attempt to speak with Shoko but she’s focused on the game, probably praying that a miracle will happen for her team. You have a couple comments about Fushiguro but it’s best if you don’t share. They’re too vulgar to share right now. 

You don’t even notice a break begin, until Shoko begins to talk more, focusing her attention on you. “I heard he’s a deadbeat. Some shit like that. He has a twelve year old son and according to the mom–”

“I don’t want a relationship with him, I just want to fuck him.” You cut her off. You really don’t want her to ruin your source of entertainment tonight. Once you know that Fushiguro is a horrible person, you won’t find him as hot while he plays. You feel ashamed for admitting that out loud so you try to correct yourself, even when Shoko knows what you mean. “I mean… I just don’t need to know all that about him.”

“Of course you– Oh my god, you’re on the kiss cam.” Shoko points out, and you look at the big screen to find yourself there, with the guy that sits next to you. He’s awkward, unsure of how to approach the situation. He looks like he wants to kiss you… But you don’t want to kiss him. Maybe it makes you shallow but you’re not kissing a random stranger because he has a great personality. He just isn’t your type. 

“Save me Shoko…” You mutter, and she laughs before her hands cup your face and she pulls your head in. Her lips meet yours, and just as her tongue swipes over your bottom lip, she pulls away with a smile on her face. You end up chuckling, before thanking her.

You keep your eye on the field, watching player number forty-four closely. Fushiguro is the real star in all of this. He apparently seems to be doing well in his field, but you consider him the star simply because he looks so damn good. You keep your eye on him until the game ends. 

Shoko is clearly mad at the fact that her team lost, and as the great friend that you are, you begin to comfort her until you remember your great idea. This is the only opportunity to do it, after all, you doubt that after this you’ll find Fushiguro again. This isn’t their home town, and you’re not putting yourself through the torture of sitting through another baseball game in the upcoming season just to get his signature… or well, to get him to notice you. You can comfort Shoko some other time, either way, she’s a sore loser so nothing you do will bring her spirits up.

You still have the ball in hand, and you get up from your seat and run down– Admittedly pushing some people out of the way, until the railing stops you so you can’t go further. Fushiguro is walking to the dugout, baseball mitt under his armpit, wiping the sweat on his chin with his shirt. He won’t notice you if you just stand there, especially since people are walking behind you. You yell his name as loud as you can, and it causes his eyes to dart your way. You show off the ball that’s in your hand and he walks over to you. 

“Do you have a marker?” He asks, and you feel your face get warm as your brain processes the question. Of course not, you weren’t planning on getting anything signed. You bite down on your lips before you shake your head. He ends up chuckling before he yells, “Kong! Get me a marker!”

“You were really good out there.” You comment, slightly tilting your head, giving him a sweet smile. Fushiguro knows that look in your eyes– Well, he thought he did because he’s pretty sure you’re into chicks. He saw you kiss that girlfriend of yours or whatever… He can still do some harmless flirting. He smirks at you, and he’s so focused on you that he nearly misses the marker that’s being thrown at him. He opens the black marker and takes the ball from your hand.

“Really? Did you enjoy the game, pretty girl?” He licks his lips, his eyes focused on signing the ball that he has in his hand. His gaze shifts though, from the ball to your cleavage. He tries to disguise it, but it’s clear what he’s doing. You hum in response, trying your best to keep an alluring smile on your face. 

“I loved watching you play.” You respond because you really don’t know what else to say. Should you ask him out? Would he reject you? He keeps looking at your cleavage so maybe he’d accept, but that also doesn’t mean anything. He probably gets asked out a lot, so it’s best if he makes the first move so you know if he’s really interested.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He hands you the ball, and you’re hesitant before you take it. You have to say something before he leaves but you don’t know what; something that’ll really stick in his mind. You take the ball, and you’re biting your tongue, you have an idea but it isn’t prudent. You bat your eyelashes before you ask him,

“Will you sign something else?” He raises his brow until he realizes what you’re talking about. You’re pretty much shaking them right in his face… Will your girlfriend get mad or something? His eyes are on your boobs and he’s tempted. His eyes search for your girlfriend in the sea of people, and when he doesn’t see her, he shrugs.

“You sure you want me to sign your tits? It doesn’t come off easily.” He warns you.

“Do it.” You nod your head, and with that assurance, you feel the marker on your cleavage as he signs his name across your breasts. He doesn’t keep it small, he wants to make it as big as he can. He smiles when he sees the work of art, his name on your chest. You bite down on your lip before saying, “Thank you, Fushiguro.”

“Please, call me Toji.” Toji says, a smug smile on his face as he puts the cap back on the marker. Is he immoral enough to ask a woman that seems to be in a relationship out? Oh, he is. He definitely is. “Will you–”

You know what’s about to leave his lips. He’s going to ask for your number. But he knows that he just wants to fuck and for some reason his conscience is telling him not to ruin a perfect relationship just for an hour or two. Since when did he become a good human being? You’re clearly throwing yourself at him, for fuck’s sake, he just signed your boobs. 

You tilt your head, “Will I what?”

“Will you tell your girlfriend to root for the better team?” He ends up saying, and the word doesn’t fully process in your head. Before you can get a word in, he’s walking back to the dugout and it hits you. Does he mean girlfriend as in your romantic partner or your friend? 

“I’m convinced that he would’ve asked me out if I hadn’t kissed Shoko.” You tell your friends, who aren’t all that interested in what you have to say. Shoko invited you out to a bar along with another mutual friend, and the date that canceled on her. The woman probably feels awkward as you keep babbling on how you kissed Shoko. Admittedly, you’re not attracted to each but it’s still awkward to hear about how your date kissed someone else.

“He’s not all that great anyway. Maybe you could try to hook up with Gojo so I can–” Shoko begins and when her eyes land on her date, she shuts her mouth. She chugs half of her drink, wiping her mouth when the glass hits the table again. “Move on, drink something and–”

“And?” You ask when Shoko stops in the middle of her sentence. She’s glaring at the entrance of the place, and it makes you turn. She’s gripping her bottle, asking what the hell they’re here. You realize that this is your chance.

A couple days after you last saw Toji, he walks inside the bar with three other friends… Or teammates, you’re not sure which word describes their relationship better. You smile at your friends before saying, “Maybe the universe has other plans for me.”

“You’re not going there.” Shoko sounds clearly annoyed. She can’t believe how you’re a traitor. You want to flirt with Fushiguro even though she’s a fan of the opposing team? You’re not much of a friend. “He’s a whore. If you sleep with him, he’ll give you a disease.”

“There’s always treatments.” You’re saying under your breath as you stand up. You smooth out your skirt before walking toward the man who wears a navy blue sweater and jeans. You won’t lie, you like the baseball uniform better but he still manages to look so good in his outfit. You’re not exactly sure how to approach him, so you tap his shoulder, causing him to turn around to find you with a sweet smile on your glossy lips. He smiles back at you.

“Nice to see you here, pretty girl.” Toji’s words make you feel as if you’ve known him for an eternity. It makes your face warm. The people who he came with are also looking at you. “She’s the girl I was telling you guys about.”

“The lesbian?” A short woman with long dark hair speaks up, asking the same question that everyone in the group has. When Toji nods, you chuckle. They end up walking away, the short woman intertwining her fingers with the blond man’s that accompanies them. You recall seeing him, he’s a catcher in Toji’s team. They’re gone before you can correct them.

“I’m not a lesbian.” You tell Toji, and he raises his brows as a smirk comes to his lips. He throws his arm over your shoulder and instead of going to the booth that his friends are at, he heads to an empty booth. You take a seat across from each other, and you ask him, “Care for a drink?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Toji jokes, and you end up laughing. He clears his throat before saying, “I’m going to get a glass of water, do you care for anything?”

“I’m good, thank you.” You respond, and you watch him walk to the bar to get himself a drink. You wonder why he’s sticking with water, but it’s not that hard to decipher that he’s probably the designated driver for the night. The more you think about it, the more special you feel. He came here to spend time with his friends, yet he sat down with you. 

It’s clear he wants a hookup, and he didn’t do anything at the stadium because he thought you were a lesbian; you find it ridiculous though, considering he signed your tits. He sits back down and you smile at him. He takes a sip of the water before he asks the inevitable, “Was that your girlfriend? The woman you kissed?”

“We’re just friends. Friends kiss sometimes.” You answer, and he purses his lips, wondering if that’s true for girls. Certainly not true for him and his friends. While he stays quiet, you add, “Kiss cam landed on me, there was an ugly guy next to me so I asked Shoko to help.”

Toji would judge, but he gets it. He wouldn’t kiss an ugly girl even if she had a great personality– He doesn’t know when he became so shallow, he wasn’t always like this. But that doesn’t matter anyway since the woman that sits across from him is anything but ugly. 

“Nice to know you’re into men. Only reason I didn’t steal you after the game was because I thought that was your girlfriend back there.” He shares, and you end up laughing. You could gather that by the way he reacted when he saw you, but it’s nice to hear him actually say it. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

You introduce yourself to him. He makes sure to compliment your name, a comment that’s insignificant so you don’t pay much attention to it. You still mutter a thank you. He then asks a question that leaves you confused, “So what do I have to do so you become a mako shark fan?”

“A what?” You almost burst out laughing when you hear that. When did baseball team names become so ridiculous? You’re laughing as you respond, “Is that the name of your team?”

“Yeah…” He awkwardly responds, trying to laugh it off. He scratches the back of his neck, and he swears it’s the first time that he feels embarrassed about the team that brings him so much money each year. “I take it you’re not a fan of the team.”

“Nor the sport. My friend was the one that dragged me.” You share. It makes Toji feel better, less insignificant. You bite down on your bottom lip before you blink a couple times and you ask him, “Maybe you could… Explain the game to me, maybe it’ll get me interested.”

“I know that trick, in the end you won’t care and I’ll waste my words.” He replies, and you find yourself laughing more. You end up nodding, agreeing in response. You just want him to engage in a conversation, and the only subject that crossed your mind was baseball. “Tell me about… Did you grow up here?”

“I’ve lived here for the past ten years so… Yes but no.” You wonder why he’s keeping up the conversation. Shoko acts as if he’s the biggest whore in the world but he’s trying to engage in a conversation with you when it’s clear that you want to go back to his hotel. “How about you… Did you grow up in whatever city–”

“Yeah.” He answers. His eyes glance at his friends for a moment, they don’t seem to be having too much fun, so he’s glad he’s with you. He ends up rolling his eyes before he comments, “I have to drive those idiots home later.”

“Did you offer to be the designated driver or did they give the role to you?” 

“I don’t really drink so… They just brought me along. Kind of rude though, I had other plans.” He responds, yet he smirks when he looks at you. “I’m glad I’m here though… What do you do anyway?”

“Real estate agent, nothing too fun.” You reply. “Just trying to convince people into buying houses and whatnot.”

“Is that your dream job?” He questions, and your eyes widen a bit. Your eyebrows then come together, your lips pursing as you try to think about the question. You don’t really have a dream job, and you’ve never really thought about it. Other than,

“I don’t know. Maybe a housewife.” You end up shrugging. “How about you? Is being a baseball player your dream job?”

“Yeah… I guess. Never really thought about it.” And before you can dwell on the subject, he clears his throat and asks, “Anyway, I assume you know your way around the city. Would you care to be my tour guide tomorrow?”

“You’re lucky I have the day off.” 

“Is that a yes?” Toji asks, and you hum in response. Around this moment he’d suggest going back to the hotel, but he has to stick around for his teammates. Luckily enough, he can see you again tomorrow. God, he just wishes he could ditch them. “So… Let’s say I wanted to buy a house around here.”

“Ew, why would you?” You end up laughing, and he laughs along with you. You reach into your purse to grab a business card. You slide it to him, and he inspects it when it’s in his hands. “That’s my work phone, but if you have a pen I can write my cell number.”

“Don’t you have a pen in your purse?” He responds, and you click your tongue.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I had one, would I?” You tell him, and his cheeks turn slightly pink. Of course you don’t, why would you ask for a pen if you had one. He excuses himself for a moment and stands up from his chair, running to the booth that his teammates are in. The same man that tossed him a marker in the game, is not handing him a pen. For that moment you feel special, although it isn’t much effort to stand up and ask for a pen but some people wouldn’t even try. You can also just put your number in his phone, but the idea doesn’t cross your mind until he’s back with the pen.

“What’s your number?” He asks, more than ready to write it down on the card. 

“I can also put it in your phone…”  You suggest, and he ends up laughing as he pulls out his phone. You’re dumbfounded when you see his old phone– You weren’t sure if they still made phones that flipped, but he’s proved you wrong. “Do they not pay you enough?”

“You won’t believe it. I tried to buy a third house but they weren’t paying me enough.” He shakes his head disappointedly, flipping the phone open, opening the phone app and then handing it to you. You take it and type in your number. “I don’t see the point in getting a new phone. I just need to call a couple people and that’s it.”

“Do you know what a computer is?” You respond as you give him back the phone. He ends up shaking his head, obviously joking. “How old are you anyway? I hope that’s not rude.”

“Twenty– Thirty-something years old. Near my forties.” He answers, not wanting to give specifics to not scare you off; of course, you can just look it up. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady her age but how old are you? It’s only fair for me to ask.”

“Not telling you.” You say, and he cocks his eyebrow. A laugh escapes his lips before he jokes,

“What? Are you a granny that manages to look young?” He jokes, and you nod in response, a smile on your lips. You haven’t talked much but you feel like you’re clicking with him. There’s a foolish smile on your face, a laugh leaving your lips every time he makes a dumb joke. 

“So um… I can’t really give you what you’re looking for tonight.” He brings up after ten minutes of chatter. You slightly tilt your head.

“And what exactly am I looking for?” You question, and you swear there’s a sparkle in his eyes. This isn’t the first time this has happened to him, but he enjoys your presence. He likes the way you put your hand over your chest and you dramatically gasp before you tell him, “Are you suggesting I want to–”

“We both know you want to.” He cuts you off, and he isn’t exactly wrong. The only reason you approached him was to hook up with him– You’ll admit that you enjoy the conversation. “Do you want to join my friends?”

“Well… I’m enjoying this time alone with you, but if you want to join them.” You answer. He glances at them for a moment before looking back at you. He lightly shakes his head,

“Maybe some other time. Tell me more about you.”

Nothing ends up happening that night, but it’s fine because you agreed to meet up the next day. He tells you the hotel that he’s staying at, and you plan on meeting at the coffee shop that’s across the hotel. You aren’t an early riser nor do you like to be extremely early to places, but you find yourself with a coffee and a pastry almost an hour before the time that you agreed to meet up.

You’re scrolling through your phone, and you almost miss the man that walks into the coffee shop, extremely early just like you. Your eyes meet, and a smile comes to your face. If you believed in love at first sight, you’d say that’s what this is. But you aren’t in love with Toji, you just find him handsome– And you feel like you can spend hours talking to him.

“Toji.” You say. He walks over toward you, his hands in his pockets. When you’re in front of him, his eyes go straight to your chest since your dress is showing your cleavage.

“Didn’t really notice that my name isn’t on them.” He awkwardly chuckles, and it embarasses you. If you knew that you’d be here so early in the day to meet up with him, you wouldn’t have asked him to sign your breasts; on the other hand, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your boldness. You try your best to act confident, putting on your best smile.

“You can always sign them again if you want.” It’s meant to be a joke, and he laughs, but he’s about to ask the barista to borrow the marker. You clear your throat before saying, “Anyway, you should get your coffee so we can start.”

“Yeah.” He responds before he walks to the line. You walk back to your seat, and you finish your drink and coffee before he’s ready to go. He only gets a coffee, and he gloats about how, “I got it for free. Barista knew who I was.”

“You’re so lucky. The rich get richer and poor people like me still have to pay for their coffee.” You point out lightheartedly. He chuckles as you stand up. You walk out of the coffee shop together, and you begin to walk to your first stop: the aquarium.

You’re tired since the previous night you stayed up looking up places to take him. You’re not too sure about the downtown area, you’ve only been here a couple of times. You’re determined to give him a good time so maybe when he comes back to the city, he’ll think of you. 

“So where are we going?” Toji asks, following your lead. You decide to stay quiet as you continue walking. He won’t really push it, trusting your judgment. He sips on his coffee before asking, “So… Have you gotten married before?”

“No. I assume you have.” You respond, and he raises his brow. You’re not really paying to his facial expressions, so you completely miss it.

“So um… Are you trying to call me old?” He sounds offended. You bite down on your lip as you hold back a laugh. You end up humming in response– And as you do so you remember Shoko’s words. She called him a deadbeat, something along those lines. And you shouldn’t care, you try to not let it bother you. After today you doubt you’ll ever see him again. “I have been married before. Twice.”

“Don’t want to ruin the mood by talking further about it.” You tell him, not wanting to hear something that’ll possibly scare you away. Not before you have sex with him at the very least. Having sex with a celebrity is on your bucket list and you want to check that off; although you aren’t too sure if he’s considered a celebrity. You’ve never heard of him before, but you don’t keep up with sports and additionally people recognize him. 

“The aquarium.” Toji doesn’t look all that surprised. He still follows, and when you’re about to pay for two tickets, he pulls out his wallet and slams his card on the counter before you can do it. He definitely makes more money than you, he will offer to pay. Especially since he wants to get into your pants. When you’re inside, you smirk,

“Maybe we’ll see a mako shark.” He ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. His hand goes to the small of your back as you begin to walk around. He isn’t all that interested in the fishes and sea creatures but it seems like you like to look around. You’re interested in the stupid variety of fishes.

Maybe he’s entertained when he stares at the sharks. His lips are pursed together, his hands in his pockets as his eyes follow the sharks. You’re walking around, looking at all the sea life around you until you’re back next to him. You poke his arm and you keep your finger pressed on his skin as you realize just how strong he is. His eyes finally fall on you. He doesn’t know what to say. Toji feels weird… He’s known you for a day or even less, and he thinks he likes you. 

It certainly isn’t love, he knows what love is. But he enjoys spending time with you, and he knows that he’ll like to have you by his side as he grows old. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed as much as he did last night. He’s just trying to get into your pants. 

Toji has a cold demeanor that a person really has to work through to get him to be nicer. He doesn’t know why he didn’t put that up with you. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like making pretty girls work for his attention.

“So did you find your team in the water?” You joke, and it’s so fucking dumb that he laughs along. He shakes his head. He throws his arm over your shoulder and begins to walk elsewhere because the sharks have gotten boring. He hears someone call his name, and he turns to find a random kid. He excuses himself, and you watch as he takes a photo with the young fan.

The young fan is grinning and telling Toji just about anything he can think of, and your heart softens just watching Toji pay attention to the young kid. It reminds you of Shoko’s words though, and this question rises in your mind. Toji looks so sweet with the kid. When Toji finally gets to your side you ask the question that bugs your mind,

“Do you have kids?” It catches him off guard. It’s nice to know that you haven’t looked him up though. A weak smile appears on his face before he nods in response.

“I have a twelve-year-old son.” His arm is over your shoulder again, and you’re walking elsewhere. You follow his lead, just staring at his face as you wait for him to elaborate. It doesn’t seem like he will until he clears his throat and adds, “His mom has full custody.”

“Okay.” Your lips form into a thin line as you nod. You know you can’t really ask more, you’ll definitely be crossing a line that you don’t want to cross. You’re walking to a darker area, and he comes to a stop which makes you stop as well. “I hope you’re having fun.”

“I am.” He answers, and you look up at him, meeting his eyes. You have no idea why but you feel as if you’ve known him for an eternity. It’s weird considering you just met, for all you know, he means danger. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you feel your face get warm. You stare at each other for a moment until Toji notices the jellyfish behind you, and he points at them. “That looks… Pretty.”

“It is.” You blink slowly as you take in the pretty sight. You look back at each other at the same time. He scratches the back of his neck.

“So does this count as a first date?” He asks, and you giggle.

“Yeah, I think so.” You respond. “As long as I get into your pants.”

“I don’t fuck on the first date.” He says, and he covers his mouth, his eyes widening when he notices a child walking by. He looks at the parents, “I did not mean to say that.”

“You need to watch what you say. There’s children around.” You tell him, and he scoffs.

“Fuck you.” And you pout your lips before dramatically turning. 

“I guess since you don’t do the hanky panky after the first date, this date is over.” You do so more to see his reaction. You’re actually enjoying your date with him so you don’t care if you have sex or not. Your arms are crossed and your head slowly turns to see his reaction. You watch as Toji’s hands are on his knees, and he’s wiping away a tear. He silently laughs, and just watching him makes you chuckle as well. 

When he calms down, he cups your face. “The hanky panky? Really?”

“Whatever you want to call it. You know what I mean.” You try your best to keep a serious face. It’s hard to. Especially when his words sound so funny even though they aren’t supposed to be. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Toji. See you on the second date.”

“You know I was joking.” He tells you, his face inching closer to yours. He isn’t going to throw in the detail that he’s leaving tomorrow and he probably won’t see you again. You’re leaning in for a kiss, and he comes to a complete stop. He’s never seeing you again after this– Maybe in a year or so but so much can happen in a year. When you realize that he’s stopped, you ask,

“Why did you–” You begin and before you finish your sentence, his lips land on yours. It’s a short but sweet kiss; you swear you hear fireworks when you feel his soft lips on yours, and you dismiss it because it’s over as fast as the kiss is. 

“Is the date really over?” He asks as you gather your thoughts. 

“No. It’s far from over.”

You get some lunch after and while the food was awful, you had a great time with him. You kept talking for hours until you realized the sun was setting, and that’s when you realized that you kept talking for hours. Toji offered to go back to his hotel to watch a movie since neither of you knew what else to do. You agreed, knowing that you aren’t going to watch a movie.

“So what movie do you want to–” Toji begins as you step into his hotel room, yet before he gets to finish the sentence, his hands are lifting up your dress. He’s been thinking about this all fucking– For days, he’s been thinking about fucking you ever since he signed your tits. He throws your dress elsewhere when his lips land on yours. 

His tongue enters your mouth and presses against yours while his hands roam your body. He’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this for centuries. There’s so much passion in his kiss, and your legs begin to grow weaker and weaker. You swore you had no chance when he walked away after the game, and god, you’re so fucking glad that you were wrong.

Toji’s hand unhooks your bra, and he slides it off before throwing it elsewhere, just like the dress. Toji pulls away from the kiss, and kisses down your neck. His lips feel so hot on your skin, and you’re burning up.

When he gets to your breast, he licks across the area where he signed. His thumb and index finger begin to pinch your nipple while his tongue circles your other nipple. His tongue flicks your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“I liked them better with my name on them.” Toji says when he unlatches. He kisses your breasts until he gets to your other nipple, and he latches again. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he plays with your sensitive nipples. 

“You can write your name on them again.” You tell him. His lips go to yours again and he kisses you multiple times, his hands cupping your breasts. His lips then go to your ear and he whispers,

“Let me fuck your tits, baby.” His teeth nibble on your earlobe, your hand going to the buckle of his belt and undoing it. You grow more and more desperate by the moment. You’ll let him do just about anything that he wants to do. You unbutton and pull down his pants. He completely takes them off and your hand palms his cock. God, he grows more and more impatient with each passing second. He needs some relief.

You grab his hand and you lead him to the bed before you push him down. You pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to be free, before you get on your knees. Your hand wraps around his length, and you bring your lips together to spit on it a couple times before you put his shaft in the middle of your chest. You squeeze your tits together and he bites his bottom lip, holding back a moan. You begin to move your breasts and he watches you, taking everything in him to not loudly moan into the air. He’s been waiting for this for what feels like forever.

This is better than what he imagined. How pathetic would it be for him to come fast? He hates that you’ve taken over his thoughts, even though he hasn’t even known you for a week. You’re just so fucking pretty. 

“Fuck– I love your fucking tits.” He finally moans. Your head leans down and you’re licking the tip of his cock, and maybe he should’ve abandoned his drunk friends to fuck you last night; it definitely would’ve been much better than dragging too many drunk people back into a hotel room, keeping them from yelling into the streets and embarrassing themselves. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re still here, fucking his cock with your boobs. “It’s so good.”

Your boobs keep moving up and down your boobs until his dick finally twitches, his cum making a mess. Some of it lands on your tongue, most of it on your chest. You make sure to swallow the cum that’s on your tongue, while his finger goes to your chest, gathering some of his cum before he traces his signature on your chest again.

“There we go.” He smirks as you get up from the floor. When his finger gathers his cum from your chest again, he brings it up to your lips and when you open your mouth, he shoves his fingers in. You gag on his fingers, and it sounds like music to his ears. 

He takes his fingers out, your saliva coating his digits. You get up from the floor and force him to lay down on the bed. You get on top of him, knees on either side of him. Your hands go to the hem of his shirt and you begin to pull it up. He helps you get his shirt off, and you swear there’s a god in your bed. Fuck he looks good.

“You wanna ride me?” Toji asks as his fingers begin to play with your clothed cunt. You bite down your lip as you hold back a pathetic moan in your throat.

“Whatever you want.” You answer. You sound so fucking pathetic and Toji loves it. He’s loving everything about this. 

“I just need you wrapped around me.” He answers as he pushes your panties to the side. You lean down, your mouth kissing his. Toji takes the opportunity to run his cock through your folds before he pushes himself inside of you. He lets you adjust to every inch of his cock.

Your hands go to his chest for support as you begin to move on his cock. Toji swears he’s in heaven when he feels you wrapped around his cock. Your pussy just feels so fucking good. This feeling is euphoric, and he swears he’ll forever remember this because god– He’s fucking moaning. He’s moaning so fucking loud too but you’re drowning it out.

“You feel so fucking good.” He can’t help but moan. His hands travel from your back to grip your ass. You’re moving back and forth on his cock, hitting that right spot that makes you feel so fucking good. He loves looking at your face, filled with pleasure that his cock gives him. He just wants to snap a picture so he can look at it.

Your movements were already slow in the beginning, they get even slower since you tire out quickly. It’s unfair that you’re doing all the work while Toji, who is an athlete that definitely has more stamina, does nothing. Toji teases you, “Tired? Already?”

“Please move, Toji.” You’re sticking out your bottom lip. He chuckles before he begins to do the work for you. You curse over and over again since his thrusts are rapid at least compared to the speed that you had set.

Your hand goes down to play with your clit. Your pussy begins to tighten around him, and he has to bite down his lip to not let out an animalistic noise. You throw your head back, arching your back as you shut your eyes, “Fuck– Love your cock.”

It’s all too much for you to handle. You stop playing with yourself when you’re near the edge. 

“You’re so tight.” He says through gritted teeth. You shut your eyes, and you keep moaning his name over and over again. You have no consideration for his teammates who are on the same floor as him. You don’t care if they hear or don’t hear. 

“Oh, Toji!” You loudly moan when you reach your high. He loses control, god, this is just better than everything. He’s never had something so good before. His hands go to your hips and his nails dig into the flesh.

“Need to come inside you.” He says, and you don’t care to push him away. You’re on birth control, you just need to feel his cum inside of you. So fucking bad. You’ll let him do just about anything that he wants to do with you. He’s got you in a trance ever since you met him.

“Do it, please please please.” You chant. His movements get sloppy until he finally fills you up with his cum. He keeps his cock buried inside of you until every drop of his seed is inside of you. When he pulls out, your lips repeatedly kiss his over and over again.

Your head then falls on his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and you smile as you feel his hand run up and down your back. You’re breathing in his scent, and you swear you’ve never felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms like how you feel right now.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” He speaks up, and you lift your head to look at him. 

“Are you sad about it?” You ask him, and you watch him shrug. Your finger pokes his muscular chest before you tease him, “You’re sad because you’re leaving? We haven’t known each other for so long.”

“I know… And I’m not sad. Why would I be?” He responds. Your head lays back down on his chest and you’re listening to his heartbeat. “You’ve just made me feel so good. I’ve never laughed so hard, and I haven’t felt this good in ages. And I don’t feel like I can let that go. I really really like you.”

“We can always reconnect. You can fly back here.” You remind him, but he seems to have a very different idea. Very different. It makes you sit up and look at him wide eyed when he suggests,

“Let’s get married.”

[laurrelise]

someone talk with me about an AU where delores is a real girl who somehow survived the initial apocalypse and spends it growing old with five and keeping him sane

someone talk with me about delores being five’s age when he discovers her body in the rubble and thinks she’s dead before he notices the small rise and fall of her chest before he pulls her out and desperately tries to help her breathe normally again and watches the life fill her eyes with tears in his own that he’s finally no longer alone

someone talk with me about delores being an only child to parents who she wasn’t close with leading her to become dependent on herself until she meets five and learns to trust other people before finding out about his huge family and doing everything in her power to help him not only because she cares about him and wants him to be happy but also because she wants to experience the family she’s never had

someone talk with me about how delores never had powers but survived for the 40+ years in the apocalyptic wasteland of the future due to her seriously genius mind (and five’s help) and lives to help five figure out how to save his family

someone talk with me about young five and delores searching for anything they can find to survive before they stumble upon a half-broken mannequin with a surprisingly intact polka-dotted blouse that five says would suit her so she puts it on out of boredom from looking for materials before five looks at her with the most genuine, in-love eyes she’s ever seen and she decides to keep it just for him

someone talk with me about five always making sure delores has a comfortable place to sleep, to rest, to eat, etc

someone talk with me about five explaining his childhood so nonchalantly one day once he realizes that he can trust delores to her surprise, and she asks why he suddenly had the strength to tell her and he looks her in the eyes and says “believe it or not, you’re stuck with me, and i’m stuck with you, and i want you to know who i am when we’re kicking this apocalypse in the ass”

someone talk with me about teenage five teaching teenage delores how to defend herself with the training he was given during his childhood but reassuring her that he’ll always be there to protect her if something were to happen (to which she reminds him that she appreciates it, but knows she can defend herself with the spite and sheer willpower she has to survive)

someone talk with me about five and delores having a makeshift wedding and five’s vows being along the lines of “even if the rest of the world was alive, i don’t think i could ever hope to find someone that makes me as truly happy as you do, and i will be eternally grateful that of anyone i could get stuck in this goddamn apocalypse with, it was always you, and it will always be you”

someone talk with me about the handler showing up from the commission to recruit five as a temporal assassin and delores as a case worker because they’re both dangerously smart and incredible at surviving in harsh conditions (also, the handler approached them separately to see where their loyalties lied and they both firmly explained they wouldn’t go anywhere without the other)

someone talk with me about delores getting fed up with the handler repeatedly making moves on five despite him clearly being uncomfortable until it bubbles to a climax and she punches her square in the jaw, which results in an ER trip and zero regret (plus five falling even harder in love with the woman who endlessly sticks up for him)

someone talk with me about five and delores plotting an escape plan to get back to 2019 which all goes well, except five had once again messed up the math (or so he thought) and he and delores are placed back in their 13 year-old bodies, but she confesses that she doesn’t mind seeing the boy she fell in love with all those years ago once again

someone talk with me about delores learning to trust and love the hargreeves just as much as five, as they learn to love and trust her just as much

someone talk with me about five always keeping track of dates and specifically remembering the exact times of significant events for himself and delores, like the moment she looked at him for the first time, the moment he knew he was in love with her, and the moment they decided they were going to stop at nothing to keep each other alive and stop the world from ending

someone talk with me about five and delores, the 58 year-old couple that they are, snuggling up on elliot’s couch together because they can’t fall asleep without the other one there to remind them that they’re safe and out of harm’s way (mostly)

someone talk with me about how delores has never been the type to step down, and she continues to stand her ground and be brutally honest when shes upset or wants five to listen to her, and he admires her bluntness (and frankly, needs it) due to his impatience and expectations of honesty at all times

someone talk with me about delores knowing exactly when five needs his time alone and stepping away to help his siblings as much as she possibly can, usually by encouragement or (again) brutal honesty hidden behind a kind and genuine smile

someone talk with me about five reminding delores of his love for her whenever it’s too quiet or he thinks she’s gone too long without him showing it, in every way he can think of, like letting her know that he would’ve lost his mind in the apocalypse without her (which.. he kind of did?), finding little things that remind him of her and bringing them to her, and holding her hand whenever he sees frustration or discomfort bubbling behind her eyes

[capr1pengu1n]

hello!

I would LOVE to see you write a oneshot for Arkham City Eddie if you are interested? It's my birthday on October 18th and I just knew I wanted to request another piece from you to celebrate! You have full reign to make it as salacious as you would like. Fem reader, please, but could you maybe do a brat kink with pigtails or something? I love picturing him with a partner that acts like a brat just to get his attention. 😈

I appreciate you, friend!

Happy Halloween!!

Until the lights go down

Summary: Under Edward's protection in Arkham City, you quickly become bored of your routine, and hope to spice up your time by seducing your lover

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), dom!eddie, thigh riding, blowjobs, rough sex, slight threat at the start, threat of exhibitionism, praise + degradation

Words: 5k

Notes: Happy birthday to the lovely @adhdnursegoat !!! Thank you for being such a sweetheart for as long as we've been mutuals, I really hope you have fun with this, and most importantly have a great birthday! <3

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Boring is not the word that you would have assumed would be your descriptor for the hellish megaprison you’d been thrown into…but as you lay on your back on the lumpy mattress, that’s the one that springs to mind. Boredom sets in like a rot, the latest gunfire from somewhere vaguely to the east of the building not even making you flinch like it used to anymore.

You weren’t completely sure how long both you and Edward had been here, although your lover was taken first. Watching the news in slight horror and anxiety as you saw the coverage detailing his move into the controversial new prison, more like a holding pen for the corrupt and the insane. Well…the corrupt, insane, and you. What both you and Edward weren’t planning on was how thorough Hugo Strange had been; Edward had never so much as whispered about your relationship to anyone, despite how much he secretly ached for Gotham to see how easily a man as intelligent as him could get a girl as pretty and devoted as you, but somehow Strange knew about you both. You’d been practically abducted and taken, chest heavy with your panicked breaths as you'd gazed upon the psychologist who had orchestrated this ordeal.

“Ah, Mister Nigma’s little pet. I wonder, will he protect you? Or will you be too much of a liability? A distraction from whatever twisted little game he hopes to play.”

His tone you remember was icy and clinical, head tilted as his eyes moved up and down you. You’d bit your tongue, knowing that any outburst may result in further injuries than just the bruises blooming on your arms beneath the guard’s tight grip. You looked down, but he stepped forward and gripped your jaw with a harsh cruelty. “I believe he’ll throw you to the wolves, that’s all a sociopath like him is capable of. You’re nothing but a foolish little girl for thinking he cares about you any more than a lapdog who satiates his primal needs.”

You couldn’t contain the death glare that you shot at him. He dropped his hand, leaning away from you before signalling to his guards, and before you knew it, you were in the lion’s den, so to speak. Forced onto the ground, you’d quickly scrambled to your feet as you adjusted to your surroundings. And as you noticed the eyes blinking at you from the streets.

With a shaky breath, you quickly assessed the situation. You knew you were the equivalent of fresh meat in here, only made worse by the fact they hadn’t given you another set of clothes, so there you stood in your skirt and jumper they'd kidnapped you in. Footsteps echoed behind you, a couple of men clearly wanting to intimidate you by jeering and laughing. Thoughts of breaking into a sprint had entered your slightly dazed thoughts, however you remember the sudden loud gunshot had seized your body up as you ducked. You quickly realised however, that nobody had been shooting at you, when you hear the inmates behind you quickly back away and speak.

“Fuck, I thought nobody had seen him in here. I ain’t getting’ involved.”

Confused, you looked up to see Edward striding towards you, confident as ever with a revolver in his hand. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed a hold of your arm and pulled you along, and you can’t deny the slight sadistic joy you got from glancing at the other inmates’ intimidated faces. Turns out he’d paid two of Penguin’s muscle to escort you both to his hideout, but he hadn’t spoken a word the whole way back, jawline stuck in a harsh line.

Once you were back, he’d lamented how stupid it was that you were here, how he didn’t have time to play the role of babysitter and keep you safe, how much of an imbecile Strange was for making such an enemy of him. But with a little difficulty, he’d assured you that he would, in fact, keep you safe, and the tight grip he’d kept on you that night confirmed it.

But now…now you were bored. You understand why he’s forbade you from leaving, but each day seems to bleed together into one long stretch of dullness. Edward barely had time for you, too busy concocting his masterplan, so that left you to wander around the building over and over again. He’d told you that you were beneath the iceberg lounge in an abandoned train-yard, but you couldn’t hear that much coming from outside apart from the occasional explosion.

So alas, you have the same shitty cold shower you do every day (although at least Edward’s hideout granted you the luxury of a shower in the first place) before getting changed. He’d given you some clothes he’d managed to obtain that vaguely fit you, but you decide to wear the outfit you’d been thrown in with. That’s when you hatch your plan.

An awful decision really, truly you were asking for trouble, but at least trouble was something interesting. So you tie your hair up in loose pigtails, rolling your skirt up for maximum effect, and skip down to where you know Edward will be. He’s sat, endlessly tapping away at his keyboard while observing the many monitors he’s set up to feed him information. You can’t deny you’ve always been impressed with his ability to multitask so well.

Scribbling some notes down on a scrap piece of paper, he hardly heard you come in until you lightly brush your finger along his shoulder and say in the softest voice you could muster, “Eddie, I’m bored.”

Taking a quick glance at you, he laughs. “You look ridiculous dear, I hadn’t realised you were so desperate for attention you’d attempt to replicate Harleen’s look. Do you expect me to be interested?”

You roll your eyes, letting your finger wander up and down his shoulder and collarbone beneath the tattered green suit jacket. “C’mon Eddie…I know you’re interested.”

“Just because I don’t want you to die an undignified death on the streets by some thug, doesn’t mean that I will drop all of my important work because you’re bored. Why don’t you dig deep into your limited cognitive capabilities and find something to do?”

“There’s nothing to do.” You lament, not being bothered by his usual condescending tone.

“And that’s my problem how exactly? Be grateful I’m letting you stay here.” Huffing, you sit up on his desk as he scribbles something else down. “Get off my desk.”

“Edward come on.” You whine, knowing you were acting like a petulant child, but at least he was actually acknowledging you.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, glasses falling down a little. “Do you have any idea what I’m attempting to plan here? What am I even saying, of course you don’t.”

“Tell me then.” You challenge, appealing to the narcissistic part of his personality that longs to be praised and recognised.

Eyes narrowing for a moment, he sits back in the chair and relents, starting to explain his plan. You hear him detail how he’ll kidnap the medical staff sent in to look after the welfare of the inmates, but you can’t help your thoughts drifting as he speaks. Always loving his voice, you allow your mind to bathe in the sound, eyes flitting over him. He’s clearly stressed, but when isn’t he these days? His tie hangs loosely around his neck, and your fingers itch to fix it…or to have him rip it off in a desperate haze before using it to bind your wrists. You blink your way out of those thoughts, as he’s still explaining the master plan, hands waving to solidify his points.

Your gaze flits to them, the dark purple fingerless gloves drawing attention to his digits, cleaner than they usually are, most likely due to his informants building whatever is left of the various contraptions, leaving his hands free to scheme. What you wouldn’t give to have those hands wrapped tightly around your throat, holding you in place as he uses you. Or perhaps have them drag along your trembling form, feeling the leather contrasting your smooth skin as they reach their crude destination. Or even have those long digits filling up your needy cunt, curling in just the right way that he knows will have you gushing all over his hand.

You notice he isn’t wearing a belt either. How easy it would be to just crawl to your knees, unbutton his trousers and have him gasping and gripping your hair as you-

“You really aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” His firm tone forces you roughly from your salacious daydream, blinking at him dumbly. Laughing coldly, he continues, “Really? Nothing to say? Maybe you’d have an inch more of an intellect in that pretty head of yours if you could restrain yourself from eye-fucking me every chance you get.”

Feeling the flush burn in your cheeks, you decide to double down. “Can’t help it. Not when you look so good like that.”

His eyebrows raise. “When I’ve been in a hellhole that doesn’t even have hot water, that is when you find me the most desirable?”

Others may not have noticed any change from your lover, but you know him too well. You notice the way his shoulders have relaxed slightly, how his legs have parted just enough for you to see. So you metaphorically pounce, moving off his desk slowly before straddling his lap, legs on either side of him, making the chair squeak slightly. “When we’ve been here and you’ve hardly touched me, that’s when. Can’t help that I’m needy”

He allows you to sit on his lap, hands moving to hold your hips gently. “Ah, my pet is feeling neglected is she?” His tone is mocking, but his wolfish grin and the way his eyes dart to your lips show he’s feeling just as pent up.

You make a noise of affirmation, moving to shift your hips over him. “Yes…you need to do something Edward.”

“Do not order me around.” He says lowly, tutting, “I think you’re forgetting who is in charge here.”

You smile, finally getting what you want. “Who is in charge?”

Letting out a slight groan, he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them. “Oh you’re really playing with fire, my dear.”

You give him the most doe-eyed look you can muster before he kisses you roughly. Moaning into his mouth, you feel his tongue push into your lips, claiming you quickly and completely. It’s hungry and desperate, saliva being swapped in a way that would cause even the most provocative person to blush. In return, you do a more deliberate grind of your hips, feeling satisfaction as he bucks up into you instinctively. He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

“So your plan was to wear that stupid hairstyle and slutty skirt in the hopes you’d seduce me into giving you what you want?” he mutters, eyes taking in your body on his lap. Often, he looks at you like he can’t quite believe how attracted you are to him. He’d never admit it of course, to anyone who dared to find out, he’d boast about how natural it is for a gorgeous girl like you to pursue a man of such high intellect, charisma and looks. But deep down, he’s shocked that you desire him like you do, how you’d willingly be on his lap, pawing for his attention.

You nod, knowing it’s best to not lie in this situation, to which he chuckles darkly. “Oh sweetheart, you really are filthy, aren’t you?”

At your slight giggle, he leans and kisses up your neck before whispering into your ear. “I think it’s time I remind you that I’m in control…that I decide when you get touched, when you get pleasured. Not you.”

When you consent, he hums in mock thought, fingers tracing down to your hips, before reaching the soft skin just below where your skirt ends. He taps it a few times, relishing in the way you practically vibrate at the small contact, before reaching up and up to feel the material of your underwear.

“It’s a good thing a mind such as mine prepares for any eventuality.” He boasts, and your momentary confusion is dissipated when he produces a small knife from his jacket, cutting the material so it falls undignified to the hard floor. You pout a little, it’s not like you have an abundance of panties in here, before he moves the sharp blade to your thigh, gently tracing. “Problem?”

You shake your head quickly; you love being a brat sure, but you aren’t completely certain you want to unlock whatever sadistic desires he could have while holding a sharp object. Luckily he seems satisfied with your pussy now being out, but instead of touching it he simply places the knife back in his jacket before maneuvering you so you’re straddling his thigh. Gripping your hips tight, he moves you over the rough fabric of his trousers, before casting you a disinterested look.

“There, perhaps now you’ll be satiated by my mere frame while I continue my important work.” He says, but you don’t miss the cocky smirk that paints his face for a second as he speaks, before he quickly hides it.

Instead you let out a soft whine of protest, but the friction is too delicious to stop. So as he wheels the chair closer to the desk, his arm reaching to grab his nearly blunt pencil, you grip his shoulders and rolls your hips. A gasped moan escapes you, the whole situation coupled with how needy you’ve been for god knows how long means your cunt is alive with sensations that it greedily feasts on.

The only sounds from the room are your choked whimpers, the slow hum of the monitors and the scratching of his pencil on his notepad. You’re certain that there’s now a wet patch on the fabric beneath you with how much your pussy is leaking, begging to be filled or played with properly. Clit throbbing, you attempt to grind harder but it gives you little relief, so you press your forehead against his shoulder. You try to control your breathing, enough to formulate some plea, but deep down you know it won’t work. You’ll get your pleasure when Edward deems it time.

You aren’t sure how long you keep grinding, but your desperate moans increase in both frequency and pitch. He clicks his tongue at a particularly salacious noise that leaves your parted lips, and only then does he finally look at you; pupils blown so wide they’re like pools of ink, searching his body and face for anything that might free you from this pleasure-deprived prison he’s placed you in.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks condescendingly, and when you shake your head, a deep chuckle escapes him. “Greedy girl, you’re truly never content, are you?”

He grabs your waist roughly, stopping your movements before pushing his hand beneath your skirt and feeling the wet mess. “Soaked, as I predicted. I bet you’ve made a mess of my nice trousers haven’t you? Well, we can’t be having that. On your knees.”

You rush to follow his command, cheeks burning as he tuts at the discoloured fabric on his thigh. Still you do your best to look tempting as you gaze up at him, blinking slowly. He seemingly appreciates it, running a hand along your jaw. “You’ve distracted me from my plans by behaving like such a harlot, so it’s only fitting I treat you like one.”

As he speaks, he unbuttons and frees himself from his trousers, length springing free and your mouth practically waters in anticipation. But before you can taste it, he stops you. “No no…you have to make this worth my time, girl. Now ask me nicely.”

You swallow, attempting to formulate the words in your head before you start to beg. “Please Edward, please let me please you. I want to…I need to please you.”

He smirks. “Good attempt, but calling me my name is most certainly not what I want right now.”

Knowing his egotistical nature very well, you relent, the brattiness making way for a carnal need for him. “Please let me please you Mister Nigma, Sir.”

He gives you a soft pat on the cheek that you can only infer means you’ve done a good job before he allows you to part your lips and take the head in your mouth. Sighing in relief, you suck slowly before pushing forward to take in more, bobbing your head as you savour finally having his attention. He lets out a small groan of satisfaction that makes your clit pulse, so you keep going, dragging your tongue along the underside.

“Good…perhaps I’ve been using you wrong this whole time. Instead of seeing you as a distraction, maybe I should just chain you to the desk to keep as my own personal stress reliever. Ready to open her whore mouth and take me whenever I see fit. I’m sure my productivity would increase.” He brags, although the hand that currently isn’t stroking your hair is gripping the arm of the chair so hard you’re sure the knuckles under his glove are white.

You moan around him in response, the sounds of you sucking filling the room in an indecent cacophony. As you do, your body feels like it’s on fire, like any sensation would tip you over the edge. But you’re determined to make him come undone, blinking up at him as you take him deeper. The hand that was on the top of your head runs down to your jawline, before a wicked idea forms.

“Well, I suppose if you insist on wearing your hair like that, might as well make it useful.” He sneers down at you, before gripping both ends of your pigtails. You realise what’s going to happen, and you do your best to relax your throat as he pulls you down on his cock, using the hair like handlebars to move you as he sees fit.

He isn’t being as rough as he could be, clearly holding back from really ruining your poor throat. But he still pushes you down until your eyes water, feeling his cock reach almost the back of your throat before giving you the respite of pulling you back up to the tip. Edward lets out a small sigh, eyes closing for a moment before snapping back open. He’d never been able to deprive himself of the beauty of your face as he ruins it.

“Fuck…look at you sweetheart. Such a mess.” He says like he’s chastising you.

You can’t hope to respond, a small whine escaping you until his cock fills your mouth once more. Sure, he’s not overly big, but he prides himself on being big enough to completely fill whatever hole he deems suitable. Over and over again he uses you, until you blink away soft tears and suck in a particularly good way; a hiss escapes him and he pulls you off roughly, letting go of your pigtails.

“I suppose you’ve been good enough to warrant a reward, I’ll allow you the honour of sitting on my cock.” He says, trying to mask the real reason; that he was seconds away from blowing his load deep down your throat.

But you’re delighted you finally have the chance to feel him properly, in the way you’ve touched yourself every night you’ve been here thinking about. So you climb back into his lap, positioning yourself above him before he crudely uses his cockhead to rub your clit in circular moments. Moaning simply makes him chuckle darkly, cooing at you to “stop behaving like a needy whore and enjoy what I give you.”

Luckily he lets you finally sink down on him, feeling every inch stretch you open until you’ve taken him all the way. You both moan out, but you watch as he tilts his head back and enjoys the sensation of your warm cunt squeezing around him. He’s gorgeous like this, so unlike the demeaning supervillain he presents himself to Gotham as. You have no doubt you’ll see glimpses of that in a moment, but for now you enjoy how blissful his features are.

You experimentally roll your hips, making you both groan out, before you attempt to find a rhythm. He keeps a tight grip on your hips, clearly not wanting you to go too fast too quick, seeking to enjoy you for as long as he can. But you want to just ride him hard and fast, to chase your release until you’re making a mess all over his lap.

“Always so tight for me.” He grits out, and you bathe in the praise as you keep moving up and down. Your fingers dig in to the shoulder of his jacket, before he huffs and shrugs it off, leaving him in his off-white shirt and question mark tie. As you keep riding him, your hands trail down to his tie, idly playing with the material between your digits.

His grin grows as he looks at you. “So eager to strip me, or does the pretty girl have a lewder idea of what to do with my tie?” he says condescendingly.

When you just moan in response, he doubles down. “I could bind those pesky wrists behind your back, make sure you aren’t touching what isn’t yours. Or perhaps I’ll blindfold you, so you never know what your master is going to inflict upon you.”

His words cause you to clench harder around him, and he starts to play with your clit lazily as you move. With how pent up you are, your pace increases a little as his actions and words have you practically tasting your orgasm already. His hips twitch upwards a little, clearly fighting the urge to just take you all for himself in a mad rush. But how can he when you’re so close to coming undone for him, all by yourself?

“Oh look at that, is the big girl going to cum all by herself?” he smirks, his tone making you flush with embarrassment and arousal. But he’s right, with your body moving up and down coupled with his dexterous fingers toying with your clit, you were on the edge of orgasm.

As you nod quickly, he smirks and nods in return. “Make a mess all over me dear, just know I’m not going to stop until I achieve satisfaction.”

His words had trailed off in your mind half way through as you were too busy cumming on his cock, shaking and writhing in his lap. You slump forward, and he allows you the mercy of resting for a few moments before he bucks up into you, causing you to whine softly against his ear.

But he stops, his eyes darting to one of the top monitors, and a wicked expression crosses his face. “Be a doll and turn around for me, okay?”

You nod blindly at his instruction, turning so your back was to his chest before sinking back down on his throbbing cock. In your haze to do what he’d asked, you hadn’t followed his gaze to see what he’s looking at, not until he grasps your hips and begins to move you again do you glance upwards.

On one of the monitors, is one of his informants, dressed in what you think is Two-Face’s gang’s uniform, waving at the camera to get your lovers attention. Your breath catches at the sight, but Edward only chuckles behind you, not allowing you to slow down.

“Looks like we have an audience. Tell me, what’s to stop me from broadcasting a projection of what’s happening here outside on that wall behind him? Then he’d be able to see what a little whore like you does for my attention, for the riddler’s attention.”

His voice is deep and commanding, clearly the situation has stroked his ego in that all too familiar way, his grip almost bruising on your hips as he continues. “I think it’ll be good for the denizens of this wretched place to see who is really in charge, to remind them that my intellect has afforded me not just my reputation, but anything I desire. Including my cute little pet who offers herself up so willingly to me.”

His words are punctuated with guttural moans, his need now overwhelming. But he’d never pass up an opportunity like this, so he leans forward, one hand still holding you firmly in his lap and on his cock, before flicking a switch.

“Speak.”

“M-Mister Nigma, sir. I planted all them trophies ya wanted down in the courthouse, although I couldn’t do one of them, since I-I was nearly caught and-“

A particularly rough thrust upwards has you biting your lip after a small noise involuntarily escaped you, but you keep quiet as you try and control the rhythm of your movements. You’re glad you aren’t being projected for the man to see, but there is still the risk he’ll hear you. After all, you aren't sure how much the microphone can pick up, so he might be able to hear the soft squelch of your cunt as you move it up and down. Edward doesn’t seem bothered by the noise you made, simply rubbing your hips as he glares at the monitor.

“And you think this excuse will be useful to you? What the hell do I pay you for? I know a simple verbal instruction is hard for a cerebrally challenged monkey to follow, but do try and keep up.” He lambasts the poor guy out front, doing a remarkably good job of keeping his voice steady and even. But you can tell he’s getting off on the power of the situation; of having his lover servicing him sexually while he chastises one of the people who works for him.

“S-Sorry Mister Nigma, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”

Cruelly, Edward decides that now is the perfect time to move his hand up to tweak your nipple harshly, causing a whine to fall past your lips. You’re sure the man heard it, his features furrowing a little in confusion on the monitor before Edward flips the switch off.

With a grunt he lifts you off him before bending you over the desk and entering you in one harsh thrust yet again, the breath being knocked out of you. He sets a rough pace, clearly chasing his own release. All you can do is cling on for dear life as he uses you like a toy. The crude noises of your pussy being filled over and over again only serve to have you clenching around him in pleasure, your eyes forced to face the monitors. Forced to see just how much control Edward has over Arkham City, how much he knows about everything going on here as your eyes watch the inmates, and crucially how none of them know that he’s fucking you like a man possessed while you observe them.

“Fuck, it’s a shame I can’t fill you up while we’re in here. Guess I’ll just have to make you a filthy mess instead.” He grunts out, and you barely have time to process before he pulls out and quickly strokes himself to completion all over your ass. Both of your breaths can be heard heaving as you take a few moments to come down, the sensations still a gentle simmer across your skin. You hear him tuck himself away, fixing his clothes before you gently try and move.

“Stay.” He demands quietly, and you’re unsure why until you feel him gently cleaning his cum away from your skin with a spare rag. Once he’s done, he smooths your skirt back down as he helps you back into a standing position. Without uttering another word, he leads you back to the makeshift bedroom, settling you on the mattress to rest. You smile softly at the feeling of him taking care of you, in his own way. He sits on the edge, fidgeting with his hands a little. Getting comfy on the mattress, you go to reach out for him before stopping yourself, sensing something is…off with him.

“I…do in fact have something else for you. I was planning on giving it to you later, but you forced my hand.” He says suddenly, causing you to tilt your head in intrigue. Getting up, he rifles through a drawer you hadn’t thought to look in until he removes a small black box, with a slightly charred ribbon tied around it.

“I can imagine spending your birthday in a prison city wasn’t your ideal scenario.” He states, handing you the box as you look at him, shocked. You hadn’t even mentioned it was your birthday, not really thinking it was the right time in your current situation.

“You remembered?”

He lets out a scoff. “Of course I remembered, I’m no simpleton. I’m more than capable of remembering a date, especially when this dim-witted society places so much emphasis on someone’s date of birth.”

As you glance at the box in your hand, he continues with an awkward cough. “I confess I did have something a little better in mind. But it’s hard to procure items in here that aren’t of the firearm or explosive variety, and I didn’t factor into my plans our joint incarceration.”

With a soft smile, you move yourself into a seated position and tug on the ribbon before opening the box, seeing a simple bracelet in his signature shade of green. “Edward…it’s lovely.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” He says quickly, for once his eyes were trained to the ground instead of your face, “Again, not the gift I was planning for you but…well it’s the best I could do here.”

You’re truly touched, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smile lovingly up at him. “Edward it’s perfect, thank you.”

Shuffling, you wrap your arms around him into a tight hug, burying your face in his neck. You don’t care that you’re both covered in dry sweat, or that you both reek of sex, all you want is to be close to him. He pretends to huff at your display of affection, but he wraps his arms around you regardless, holding you flush against him.

“Happy birthday, my dear.”

[akutasoda]

mm can you write showering with kisses tecchou, jouno and any others?????

how are tou doing

stay safe

-🦢🌊

kisses galore!

synopsis - showering them in kisses

includes - ranpo, jouno, tecchou

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, even more fluff, slight teasing in ranpo's, wc - 807

a/n: im doing well! hope you are aswell and keep safe yourself!

ranpo edogawa ★↷

ranpo was bored out of his mind. he lay slumped over his desk trying desperately to think of something that could cure this boredom. at the moment the agency was experiencing a lack of 'interesting' cases that ranpo wanted to work on and so he had far too much free time on his hands.

unfortunately you happened to walk into the offices at the very moment ranpo lifted his head from his desk. immediately he called you over with urgency ans you felt compelled to see what was bothering him.

'find something to entertain me!' he was practically demanding you to help him cure his boredom but you knew if you didn't help soon, he may become all the more intolerable for the rest of the day - or week, if nothing happened to change that in that time.

it was a longshot but currently the only thing you could think of and it was better to try now - the rest of the agency were either working in an actual case or elsewhere. you cupped his head in your hands before placing lots of kisses to various parts of his face.

'does this satisfy your boredom?' you drew back and asked, taking note of his almost lovestruck face that morphed more into a smirk, and a menacing one at that.

'hmm, i'm not completely sure, perhaps a few more will help me decide'

you could only sigh before giving in to his whims and peppering his face in even more kisses.

saigiku jouno ★↷

from the very moment that jouno walked through the door, you could tell he wasn't in a great mood. it was rather comidic to you how childishly he could behave if he was annoyed or upset but that didn't diverge from the fact that he was clearly both as of now. he was practically storming around your shared accommodation so you had to figure a way to calm him down, even just a little.

you managed to catch him when he stopped in your shared bedroom, he was still noticeably a tad sulky but the worst of it seemed to of dissipated. you knew he knew you were in the room with him amd so you made no move to announce your presence and decided to get straight to the point.

'noticed you need some cheering up and i thought i'd help' you noticed how his frown still seemed permanently etched into his face

'how so?' his usual attitude seemed null and you were surprised at how down he actually seemed.

you didn't answer verbally as his answer came in the form of a kiss to his low jaw, and soon another was placed near to the last. you finished placing kisses across his jaw and moved to kiss any other place on his face you could. the results were visibly show by the slight tint of red dusting jouno's cheeks and a small smile cracked his frown.

'i see, now it's only fair i reciprocate such a lovely action?'

tecchou suehiro ★↷

the night wasn't anything special per say, you and tecchou were cuddled up on the couch as some movie played on the tv. you couldn't even really remember why you two decided to watch this one in particular but it wasn't exactly capturing your attention and so boredom soon overpowered.

you weren't too sure if tecchou was actually entirely engrossed in the film aswell but before you could wonder anymore, an idea formed in your head. sitting up slightly you looked toward him andhe immediately looked at you back - clearly he wasn't really that interested in the film. he looked like he was ready to ask what you were doing or if everything was ok, but you beat him to it.

leaning to the side slightly, you placed a kiss to the side of his face before placing another in a close by spot. after kssing him a couple of times you drew back and looked at him, he looked rathrr flustered yet held a small dmile on his face that you couldn't help but mirror before diving back in and giving the other side of his face the same treatment.

the movie was now entirely forgotten, and as you drew back a second time you noticed how tecchou himself seemed to follow your movements - almost as if he was chasing the kiss you were yet to give him after kssing every other area of his face. he didn't say anything and neither did you but you both knew what you both wanted at this point, a final kiss on the lips.

although tecchou would be rather happy to have you pepper his face in kisses for the rest of his life.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @vi-chan07

[lu-is-not-ok]

Any particular thoughts on Fanghunt Hong Lu?

Yes, one very specific thought in fact.

Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent Hong Lu ID we have had thus far, being one that not only revels in violence like Tingtang Hong Lu or Hook Hong Lu, but also one that is actively shown torturing his victims in some genuinely stomach churning ways.

He is also the one Hong Lu ID which, while mentioning his Family, is one that doubts the very nature of what a family even is the most clearly.

This, to me, highlights a very noticeable pattern among Hong Lu's IDs.

When a Hong Lu ID is shown to be actively under his Family's control, he's either completely uninterested in violence (such as Liu) or so bored with the role he's forced into that violence is the only way he's able to push back against that boredom (K Corp and W Corp).

On the other hand, a Hong Lu ID that seems to be heavily disconnected from his Family is often one that is actively enjoying the violence he inflicts and is notably kind of fucking unhinged (Tingtang and Hook).

Fanghunt Hong Lu adds another nuance to that spectrum, being an ID that still has contact with his Family, but one who isn't specifically in a position chosen by them and who is led to doubting what a family even is by his experiences.

He shows us a possible outcome of a Hong Lu who has to actually reckon with reality and doubt what he knows about his circumstances, and the results are not pretty. After all, like I said earlier, Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent and most hate-filled Hong Lu we've seen up to now. He pulls out a guy's fucking teeth one by one for fuck's sake.

...And this made me think a bit. We actually have quite a few Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Sin Affinity by now. However, Fanghunt Hong Lu is only the second we have with a Wrath Skill 3. The other one being, of course, Liu Hong Lu.

Both Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Skill 3 seem to be to some extent aware of something being wrong regarding their Family, in very different ways that lead them into reacting to it very differently.

Liu Hong Lu seems to be aware of the fact he has no real control over what happens when he's under his Family's watchful eye, leading him into being the least violent Hong Lu of them all. He's aware of what his Family is doing to him, but he's unaware of it being abnormal.

On the other hand, Fanghunt Hong Lu seems to be unaware of the specific horrors of his Family. Rather, he's become aware that Family itself is a concept that he can't quite understand. He's seen Bloodfiends who abandon their previous families to be with their new Bloodfiend families, and it's a point of focus for him. What even is a real family?

...This, I think, is where Liu and Fanghunt Hong Lu differ the most. Liu Hong Lu knows he's being hurt, but he doesn't see any way out, that it's just how things are supposed to be, so he simply tries to live through it.

Meanwhile, though Fanghunt Hong Lu doesn't have that piece of the puzzle, he does have a different one - the seed of an idea that he could escape. Proof that one's "Real" Family doesn't have to remain their only family. He just doesn't yet realize what he'd want to escape from, so he channels the feelings he's experiencing because of that information against the immediate source of it. Instead of using that idea to free himself, he directs his anger towards those that actually tried it and succeeded.

I don't mean to keep pushing my "Hong Lu will go apeshit in Canto 8" idea, but like... The more info we get about him, the more likely that possibility becomes. After all, Fanghunt Hong Lu is a clear example of the fact that a Hong Lu aware of an escape route from one's Family could become extremely violent. That added onto the potential of Lorenzo's story told by the Priest being a parallel to Hong Lu, and the fact that the Sapling of Light Hong Lu is likely going to parallel is Chesed... It's all a lot.

[kiwi-on-ice]

I found u on tik tok🤩 u said ur taking requests but if that has changed u can just ignore me. Could u do a F! Reader taking a nap in Moira’s lab while shes working. Maybe she gets distracted and they get freaky😏

Moira O'Deorain x fem!reader

Summary: When Moira allows you to stay in her lab while she works, you quickly find out how boring that can be. However, a surprise visitor and your outfit choice means the geneticist may not be able to concentrate on her work for long.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+ smut, kinda mean dom!moira, no use of y/n, spanking, fingering, degradation, slight somnophilia, slight overstim

Notes: got several requests for Moira which i'm glad about, I love my sadistic evil scientist gf

“Fine, you may stay in the lab. But you will not distract me in any way, do I make myself clear?”

That confirmation meant the world to you, as you gleefully accepted her conditions. You knew upon becoming involved with Moira that she put her work above all else. You admired it greatly; despite her disregard for ethics and morals, she was a brilliant woman who was truly pushing the boundaries of science. But it meant you’d become needy, needy for any sort of attention she’d give you. So there you were, spinning on a desk chair absentmindedly on your phone as Moira worked. Occasionally, you look up to watch her, her brow furrowed as she tries to solve a complex problem you most likely wouldn’t be able to understand the half of. But you can’t deny how stunning she looks while she does it, how in her element she seems.

However there’s only so much you can do in a lab, especially when you’ve been instructed not to touch anything or even move in a way that was distracting. You watched as she synthesised different formulas, injected a test rabbit with a syringe that you shudder to think of what it contained and typed some data into her computer. But you weren’t a scientist, so you just glanced around the room or went on your phone. Listening to music in your earbuds, watching youtube, scrolling though tiktok, staring at Moira’s hands as she works diligently…boredom starts to set in regardless. Spinning in the chair softly, your eyes dart to the lab door opening and your head tilts.

“How’s it going hermana?” came a voice from behind Moira, causing both you and your lover to jump. Glancing up, you recognise the hacker immediately. Sombra, that’s what you remember Moira had called her. She’d given you information on her colleagues at Talon, most likely not being meant to, but you appreciated it regardless.

“Peaceful, until you showed up.” Moira mutters curtly, returning to her work and causing Sombra to smirk.

“Ah no need to get tetchy, the boss just wants an update is all.”

You watch as Sombra speaks, her hands behind her back as walks, before her eyes fall on you.

“It is progressing as expected.” Moira replies, her jaw clenches when she sees the hacker’s eyes trace over you. When you’d shown up in your skirt that perhaps was a little too short for Moira’s usual liking, she’d not imagined anyone else seeing how delectable your legs looked. Sombra seemingly doesn’t care about the doctor’s response anymore, instead slinking over to you.

“Well look at this, didn’t tell me you had a cute mascota cooped up here.” Sombra coos, a little condescending as she looks at you. Before you have time to react or reply, Moira interjects.

“She’s just visiting.”

“Doesn’t look like it, she looks quite cozy hm?” she giggles, booping your nose. The unexpected action causes you to giggle softly in return, and the curling claws of jealousy unfold inside Moira as she watches you smile.

“You may tell Akande that he will have his results within the month.” Moira says, clearly trying to dismiss Sombra from her laboratory, and get her away from what’s hers.

“Aw, you’re always so serious. Loosen up a little doc.” Sombra replies with a smirk, giving you a little wink. “Alright, nos vemos.”

And just like that, the hacker disappears from view. Your eyes widen a little, glancing around.

“How does she do that?” you ask, marvelling at the technological prowess.

“She’s as much digital as she is human, bunny, it would be impressive if she wasn’t so irritating.”

You laugh softly at Moira’s dismissive tone, getting comfy on the chair as you fiddle with your phone. Letting your head fall back, you bring your legs up and cause your skirt to ride up higher. Moira certainly doesn’t miss it, her eyes glued to the exposed skin of your thighs before returning to her work.

“…I’m sure I won’t be long.” The doctor says, in a tone quite unlike any you’ve heard from her before, soft and almost impatient. Either way, you smile softly as you keep getting comfy. With the soft hum of the lights, and the gentle tinkering of Moira moving beakers and typing on a keyboard, it isn’t long before your eyelids flutter shut.

Moira likes to think of herself as a capable woman, a woman of strong conviction. But after about an hour of sneaking glances at your sleeping form, of the way your chest rises and falls and how that damn skirt of yours is riding up so high she can catch a glimpse of your panties, even a woman like her is capable of becoming restless. She sighs, rubbing her eyes for a moment. Your soft breaths seemingly call to her like a siren song, and she at last relents.

You stir softly in your sleep, before a sharp feeling causes you to jolt, eyes fluttering open. Moira smirks cruelly, her hand underneath your shirt before pinching your nipple again. A strangled whine escapes your throat, your back arching a little involuntarily as you adjust to being awake again.

“Good that you’re awake dear,” she says lowly, her thumb gently circling your nipple almost as a soothing gesture, “you look charming while you sleep like that.”

You make a soft noise of contentment at her praise, her eyes drinking in the sight of you so vulnerable underneath her. She snakes her hand back out from under your shirt, before tugging the garment off. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as she does; you’d forgone wearing a bra today, not thinking anything of it. But now you were in her lab, completely topless and on show.

Moira seemingly appreciates the view, groping at your chest for a moment before she stands at her full height. “Do you have any idea what you do to me bunny? So distracting in your slutty little skirt.” She sneers down at you, and you hate how much it makes you wet. Clenching your thighs together, she smirks before pulling you up by your arm and capturing your lips in a kiss.

It’s messy and controlling, but oh so perfect. Her tongue completely overpowers yours, dragging across your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Tangling in your hair, her fingernails scratch at your scalp as she pushes you backwards, your ass hitting the surface. You go to hop up, before she pulls away and turns you around, bending you over.

“That’s better…a position a slut like you should be used to.” She smirks, flipping your skirt up. You quickly brace yourself, scrambling to hold on to the counter before she slaps your ass, pretty gently for her standards. “Having to work, while your little doe eyes stare at me so pathetically…it’s a wonder I got anything done.”

She slaps your ass again before hooking her fingers underneath your underwear, pulling them down slowly. Moira always loved a show. Revealing yourself to her, you can’t see the soft smile that graces her usually severe features as she slowly drags a finger up and down your drenched cunt. Your thighs shake a little, as she drags her finger up to your clit, circling it softly. You immediately try and grind against her finger, causing her to tut and slap your ass once more.

“If you can’t stay still, perhaps I should strap you down hm? Treat you like the little lab rat you are?” she threatens, gripping your hip firmly. You shake your head quickly, not wanting to test her when she’s clearly riled up. Humming, she seems to accept that and starts to circle your clit yet again, although not before spanking you once more for good measure. Laying over the counter, you close your eyes and focus on the gentle pleasure she’s giving you, sighing softly. Her touch builds, circling over and over again as her other hand strokes your hip. You can feel the slight change in texture of the fingertips of her right hand, the artificial decay she’d infected herself with altering the skin to have a slightly rougher quality. Despite your worry about her well-being, you can’t deny the feeling of something so different, so dangerous touching you like that makes your pussy clench around nothing and your breath become shakier.

Eventually she decides to relent, sinking a finger of her left hand inside you. Stretching you out quickly before slipping another one inside, relishing in your moans that escape. “Good pet, tell me how you feel.”

“Good…feel so good.” You manage to say, doing your best to keep your body still and to not thrust back onto her fingers wantonly. She pumps them in and out at a steady pace, curling them and feeling you shiver as she hits your g spot repeatedly. Nobody knows your body quite like her; you’re her experiment, a girl all for her that she can touch and push and pull to see the results of her stimuli, and to watch as you fall apart beneath her touch time and time again. But when she sees you like this, willingly giving yourself to her and letting her be as mean or as gentle as she wants…an all too familiar feeling seems to warm her chest.

Shaking those thoughts away, she returns to the experiment at hand, as she digs her nails into your hip to make you jump. “There we go pet, keep making those delightful noises.”

You nod and moan, wanting to please her as much as she was pleasing you. Back arching, you whimper out her name, knowing what she likes. If it’s a show she wants, you can certainly provide. She smirks at your attempts to win her over, dragging her nails over your hips towards your back, leaving fresh red lines in her wake. The added pain only serves to intensify the pleasure, clenching around her fingers as she continues to thrust them deep inside you.

“How silly you look, taking my fingers like it’s your job. Although I suppose it is. Here I am, advancing humanities understanding of the scientific process, with my pet who exists to entertain me in my downtime.”

Her words cause a flush to rise up to your cheeks, but you know you can’t deny them. Instead your pussy gets impossibly wetter, as you confirm her degradation. She smirks and pulls her fingers out before flipping you round so you’re facing her, before settling your back against the counter. Spreading your thighs, her fingers make themselves at home within your cunt once more, thrusting a little faster as he gazes at your body. With your wriggling and squirming, you’re worried that you’ll cause the counter to move but Moira doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

With this new position, being able to see her slender body bend over yours to touch you, means your orgasm builds suddenly. You gasp and writhe, her nails once again digging in to your hips before opting to hold your thigh apart.

“You know what to do pet, prove I’ve trained you well.”

You immediately know what she means, and you nod rapidly. “Please can I cum? Please I’ve been so good please…I need it please…” you beg and plead, hoping she won’t deny you like she sometimes does after a more stressful day at the lab. Instead, her smirk remains as she nods, her fingers holding your thigh trailing down to rub your clit.

“Good, cum on my fingers.” She says bluntly, but with her permission it isn’t long until you’re clenching around her fingers and cumming with a breathy moan. You never get tired of the intensity of the pleasure she gives you, always thrilling and all-consuming. She keeps going, wanting to see you truly wrecked before she pulls her fingers out slowly.

“Breathe.” She instructs, stroking up and down your thighs as you come down. You nod softly, your breathing deep and evening out slowly. You sit up when you’re more grounded, smiling up at her. Your affection for her is prevalent in your gaze, and it makes her…blush a little. Once she realises, she quickly leans down to kiss at your neck, lavishing it with her lips and tongue. Tilting to give her access, she kisses your pulse point before biting softly, creating a hickey on your skin.

“Can you give me another?” she asks you against your neck, and your clit throbs from the insinuation. Giving your confirmation, she bites at your neck again before trailing her fingers back down between your legs. “Good pet, always so eager.”

She circles your clit, and you gasp at how sensitive it is. She shushes you, biting at your collarbone before pulling away to watch you. Her decayed hand reaches to caress your tits, and you grab at her waist to pull her closer. If she were in a harsher mood, she’d have punished you for touching her without consent, but her mind strays to how you’d smiled at Sombra when she’d teased you, and her possessive need wins out. You want her, you’re her pet. Nobody else's.

With your closeness, she leans down to kiss you once more, eagerly caressing your tongue with hers as her fingers play your clit like a finely tuned instrument. She’s aware of how sensitive you can get, especially going again in quick succession after cumming, so she wants to make the most of this moment. Her hand slides up from your tits to your jaw, holding it and angling you so you’re looking up at her. Moments like this remind you completely at how tall she is, how she always looks down at you (physically and to an extent metaphorically). Blinking, your eyes focus on hers as she pulls away from the kiss. Her hair is out of place, her skin slightly flushed and her lips parted, you think she looks like a goddess. So you tell her, causing her to look down momentarily before deflecting.

“I’m sure I pale in comparison to the way you look at this moment, sweet pet.” She murmurs, never one to be good at taking compliments. Her fingers increase their pace, causing all thoughts to flurry away from you as you lose yourself in the sensations. Sweat glistens on your skin as you moan, her eyes hungrily taking you in as you near your second climax. Her hand cupping your jaw gently traces down to hold your neck, ensuring you can’t look away. She can feel your pulse through her fingers, as you start to shiver.

“Cum for me again…” she whispers, as you start to tip over the edge, “oh, mo chroí.”

Whatever she said makes you cry out her name, cumming for a second time before leaning against her. She drags out your pleasure for as long as possible, before you start to twitch from overstimulation. Removing her fingers from between your legs, she holds your hip with one hand before her other slowly massages your scalp. Being with her like this, it was always one of your favourite parts. How she’d treat you delicately, like you were some porcelain doll, even for only a few precious moments. You stay like that, your breathing slowing before she looks at you.

“Perhaps it was not such a good idea to have you stay in here at all, you were most distracting.” She teases lowly, eliciting a soft giggle from you. “Come on pet, we can go home now. I’ll set my computer to monitor the cellular generation I’ve synthesized.”

You watch as she goes over to fiddle with her device, while you get changed and do your best to look a little more presentable. With a final tap of the keyboard, she moves back to you, placing her hand on the small of your back as she leads you out of her lab. Although the curling of her fingers around your waist as you leave the building tells you that it may not be the end of your night after all…

Sombra listens from her seated position, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Hacking your phone had been child play, hoping she could hear anything she might be able to use against the geneticist. Instead…she got a lot more than she bargained for, not that she’s complaining.

She smirks a little as she saves the audio file, maybe it’ll be useful. Maybe not. Either way, it’ll be fun to replay later.

[vamphorica]

♰ Religion in Death Note ♰

One of the most fascinating things about Death Note as a franchise is its exploration of faith and religion in the context of the world building, and how it compliments this using Christian motifs and imagery. The latter is often portrayed superficially, which I think is a shame given that there are many occasions throughout the series where relationships that some characters have with faith could be examined in accordance with the world Ohba has created.

For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to consider two main religious influences in the world of Death Note:

The Canon Explanation (The Shinigami Realm, Rules of the Death Note, Mu as the Afterlife, etc.)

Christianity (specifically, the use of Catholic imagery in Ohba’s official art.)

Let's begin with Canon.

i. The Canon Explanation

Ohba is clearly partial to weaving a complex web of rules as a means to support the supernatural premises of his stories (see Platinum End). This makes The Canon Explanation so effective not only because it limits the behaviour of the characters throughout the text, but it is also very pertinent to religion conceptually. By listing out the apparent commandments of the Death Note, a set of religious principles have been established that the users of the Death Note must follow. While you are not technically committing a sin by, let's say, trying to kill someone over the age of 124 with the Death Note (x), it sets out a guide which is indicative of rules one might follow in a religious text. You could say that Light, Misa, Mikami, and Takada each had to have a level of faith in the Death Note in order to use it. They all followed the rules, even if they did so under Light's direction as their self-proclaimed God. Light’s familiarity with these rules and his confidence with manipulating them is what ultimately makes his reign as Kira so effective. I think the act of writing a name down in the notebook itself is a form of commitment to belief – as a concept, the Death Note seems too absurd to a sceptic.

When the Shinigami begin arriving in the human world, it is obvious that they are not divine beings in the perfect, omnipotent manner that humans may expect. If anything, they are curiously quite human themselves – forgetting rules and acting as a result of emotional impulses. It is indeed Ryuk's boredom that sets the story into motion – everyone who died as a result of the Death Note did so because of him. The Shinigami pose no actual threat to the humans they follow, often noting how humans appear more competent at being Death Gods than they themselves are. While this is subjective, depending on interpretations of faith, the typical Grim Reaper figure is seen as a serious, all-knowing figure that is to be feared, while the Shinigami of Death Note are far less intimidating. I think this delivers a decent proposal that religion in Canon is not a matter of worshipping the supernatural, or suggesting that they are better than us. By having the Shinigami presented as being similar to ourselves, human characters have the ability to use their power without the fear of divine retribution. Light’s extensive knowledge of the Death Note rules and how to work around them, along with his strict work ethic, only further demonstrates his commitment to carving out his position as God when compared to the Shinigami.

Mu is explained quite simply – there is no heaven or hell. There is a notable lack of elaboration here for a reason, but I do wonder if Light might have been more reluctant in his pursuits had traditional heaven and hell been at stake. Would he have become Kira if his act of justice would damn him to hell? Would he be concerned that his victims might end up going to heaven? Mu is the Canon version for what happens when one dies in this universe, so, beyond proposing speculative questions, there is little to analyse here.

Now, there is one character who I want to delve deeper in relation to The Canon Explanation: Mikami.

Mikami -> Mikami is deeply devout. Of all the named characters in the series, Mikami is the only one who is expressly religious, particularly regarding the Canon Explanation. While I think it is interesting to consider Light Yagami's relationship to Godhood, it is only through Mikami that we understand Kira’s societal impact. Mikami is also the only character in Death Note to be granted a rather comprehensive backstory, so we are given an insight into what led him to become such an ardent Kira supporter. Light chose Mikami not just for these strongly held opinions but also because of his devotion to him specifically. Mikami is ritualistic in the way he worships the idea of Kira through his dedication to writing one page of names in the Death Note daily, following Light’s commands without question. The only other occasion where we see a similar act of religiosity towards Kira is at the very end of the manga when a group of Kira supporters take a pilgrimage to pay their respects. Yet even this does not quite encapsulate Mikami's religious fanaticism. His strong conviction that Kira is God demonstrates the societal inclination to view Kira as a religious figure to be worshipped.

I think because Death Note relies so strongly on Light's internal psychology as he encounters various forms of opposition, the external impact of Kira on the world is only provided to us through passing mentions of political support. It is absolutely crucial to interpret Kira in a political context, but again, this is not really explored in too much detail. What we do know is that Kira supporters, including Misa, Mikami and Takada, may politically be in favour of Light's moral judgement, but because he poses himself as a God rather than a political leader, we must assume that he wants to play into a deific persona because it affords him far more unconditional power than he would have as a mere mortal.

From the beginning, Light is able to present his power as originating from a divine source, and it is only until Lind L. Tailor’s death that it becomes apparent what limitations Light is working within. Before then, criminals dying of heart attacks across the world could not be considered to be within human capability, let alone performed by a singular perpetrator, so Light maintained the illusion of omnipotence. Distancing himself from his humanity not only gave Light the benefit of being undetectable for some time, but also encouraged people to support Kira through the belief that he was inherently above them. It was only L who managed to shatter this façade early on in the Kira investigation.

I will now move onto something slightly more tangible, as it reflects our world within the text – Death Note's use of Catholic imagery.

ii. Christianity

As if to make up for the lack of exploration into Kira's religious influence, Death Note heavily relies upon Christian imagery to highlight its desire for religion to be seen as a core component of the franchise. Realistically, I am aware that a lot of manga and Japanese culture from the 2000s was heavily inspired by Catholic imagery and that there was certainly an aesthetic trend being taken advantage of here. However, I am still going to consider it specifically in relation to Death Note. It gives me an excuse to move on from Ohba to Obata anyhow, which I am more than willing to do.

Let's have a look at some official art.

There's a lot to be discussed about these specific pieces of art, and there are plenty more examples that I am sure can be found and analysed over, but we can recognise what their general theme is – kitschy Catholicism. This is not intended as criticism, I love Obata's art and as unsubtle as these official pieces may be, they reinforce Death Note's desire to incorporate religion into its series as a strong motif, if not an effectively developed theme. It also somewhat exposes its superficiality. The imagery is explicit, bold and bright, without doing much work in considering what the actual religious belief might be able to bring to the series beyond the visual components (according to this post -> x the Latin on the last image isn't rendered properly, which proves my point further). There are instances in the anime where there are Biblical references, such as frames that foreshadow L’s death, but the manga does not engage in these same parallels.

This leads me nicely onto talking about Misa.

Misa -> Misa is shown throughout the series to lean heavily into fashion and interior design that reflects a very Gothic Christian aesthetic, which is undeniably iconic and an important visual aspect to her character.  Mirroring the series more generally, it does appear that this is the extent to her relationship with the Christian faith. Misa’s allegiance to Kira could suggest that the trauma of her parents’ death came to some kind of resolution when their murderer was himself killed. Again, we have no idea if she actually was a religious character to begin with and I need to stress, it does not matter, but it is still worth considering given how a lot of the Christian imagery in the series is associated with her character specifically. I don't think this feeds into any flat character analysis that might suggest she doesn't know the potential significance of the crosses she wears or decorates her home with. We could just say she has an aesthetic that is very well composed but doesn't carry much weight beyond its stylistic merit.

Derailing slightly, but I do wish they had maintained this style throughout the entire series. Alas, as soon as she met Light, she lost this cool Goth look pretty quickly. Rem would never have let this happen. 💔

One more character analysis before we wrap this up. The quite honest reason as to why I decided to write up this essay was so that I could discuss Mello in relation to religion in Death Note.

Mello → Much of what I discussed about Misa's style could be applied to Mello, the only other character who visually demonstrates any religious tendency. However, I think there are some differences here that could suggest Mello is actually religious, which then allows us to consider his character in the context of the Canon Explanation. Firstly, one of the main signifiers Mello wears is his rosary, and while it is unlikely you will experience any adverse effects from wearing one as a non believer, I think those who wear a rosary are aware of the deeper connection to Catholicism than someone who wears a simple cross necklace (see Misa above, right). Secondly, narratively, I think there is more opportunity for Mello to be religious. Wammy's House, from their gates, actually appears to be a Christian organisation, and while I do not actually believe that they were, I find it interesting nonetheless. I also would be surprised if they were denominationally Catholic, if we are following this line of logic, presumably they would be CofE, but who knows. Regardless, even if Mello was not religious as a child, I think his arrival into the Mafia would certainly have introduced him to Catholicism. Of course it seems antithetical, but I would not be all that surprised if a teenage boy who is expected to do some horrendous things to rise to the top of a criminal organisation might turn to God in the process.

Following on from the prior point, Mello is a completely contradictory character, so I do not think it is all that necessary to consider his moral code from an entirely rational perspective. I think the fact his Beretta has a small cross charm on it in itself is very symbolic of the kind of character we are dealing with here (see below). Interestingly, it looks to be a Celtic cross, rather than a traditional crucifix.

What does this actually mean? Mello represents a good integration of the two religious influences I've discussed – he appears to have faith in a religion that we as readers contextually understand, and yet he interacts easily with Shinigami and the Death Note. While the two do not contradict one another exactly, I think The Canon Explanation certainly does not lend much credence to Catholic interpretations within the text. Like the others who have encountered a Death Note, Mello is initially shocked by the arrival of the Shinigami attached to his notebook, but quickly recovers. He interrogates Sidoh with such evident effectiveness that he ends up frightening him.

I think this is where I begin to get a little frustrated with the depiction of religion in Death Note because we have such a fascinating premise here. Does Mello's faith waver as his beliefs are evidently challenged by Sidoh? Does he consider Kira as a force of evil from a moral perspective informed by Wammy's, or his understanding of God? Does he believe in heaven and hell? None of these questions are answered, and I do appreciate I am being fussy because I am very fond of Mello, but I think there was a rather unique opportunity present in the series that was completely neglected. I have already explained how Death Note relies so heavily on Catholic imagery and clearly wishes to present itself as a series that deals with religious themes, so I think there is a failure here to consider the nuances that have already been set up.

How interesting do you suppose it would be to see how Kira's influence begins to impact the other established religions, as people see criminals dying en masse? Remember that ordinary people would be likely predisposed to consider this as an act of God. Society would certainly be more scared, especially as it would simply be inevitable that Kira killed innocent people who had been deemed criminals by their legal systems. There is a lot to go analyse about that topic alone, but another time!

I suppose with a lot of the questions I have posed, they could be answered through fanfiction or headcanons. I could decide that Misa believed in God until she met Light, or that Mello chose to ignore the implications of Mu given that he follows a religion that sets itself up on the premise of eternal reward or damnation. I just want to facilitate further conversation, because I do think this topic is fascinating.

Thank you @saturniiids, @vengeflies and @stylooooo for giving this a read for me! ♡

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 7

Mask

Your new friend has been busy.

The streets whispered tales of the Red Hood nowadays. How relentless he was. How merciless. How troublesome.

You loved it.

It's been so long since someone stirred things up. You grew weary of the usual suspects. When you live in Gotham - and are raised by Joker - you've seen everything. And when you've seen everything you grow bored quite easily. It was a delight to have a new party to help combat this boredom.

Red Hood was fundamentally different than you. You didn't have much to speak of when it came to morals, you just do whatever you please, whenever you please. He on the other hand was ruled by his morals. Driven by them. He overtook the drug rings just to stop them from selling to kids, sure he got money out of it but if that was the goal he wouldn't care who bought the product. Despite this, he aims to kill. No remorse or regret.

He fascinated you.

Today had been a lazy day. Slept in late, out all night. No business to speak of, simply tagging several billboards with spray paint. Graffiti relaxed you.

You shivered at the brisk breeze in the air. The temperature had been dropping recently, winter approaching. Soon you'd have to bundle up. You grimaced at the idea of having to cover up your fashion.

You stepped back to look at the finished piece you'd just graffitied. Blotches of blue and pink painted the Bat himself, his cowl forming two sharp devil horns. And of course a jagged frown to match.

"We're going for impressionist I see."

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see a familiar shade of red.

The man raised his hands. "Easy. I come in peace."

"Since when?"

"Since I need to talk to you."

You eyed him warily. You could just shoot him. His helmet is probably bulletproof, same as his armor. You holstered your pistol.

"Talk."

"You need to leave Joker."

"... Pfft-! Ha! That's a good one."

"I'm serious."

"I know, that's what makes it funny."

"Listen, I know you're loyal to him. But things are about to get very ugly very quickly. Consider this a courtesy call."

"Thanks but I'm a big girl. Nothin' I can't handle."

"You always did overestimate yourself."

There it was again. Familiarity. He acted as if he knew you.

"Alright, you want me to trust you? Start being honest." You took a step closer to him. "Who are you?"

"What?"

"You act like we've met before, but I think I'd remember a six foot something, built like a brick shithouse man in red. So spill it, who are you?"

"You do get the point of a secret identity, right?"

"Ugh! You're such a pain in the ass."

"Said the pot to the kettle."

You give up. This guy is a major headache. You haven't had this much snarky banter since...

No.

You eyed the man suspiciously. "... Take off the mask."

"You're seriously that desperate?"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." You flexed your hand over your gun.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Don't make me."

You jammed the pistol into Red Hood's stomach. Unfortunately armor plus muscle equals immunity. You both struggled for the gun, you could tell he was clearly holding back. He really didn't want to fight.

You both wrestled for a while, no actual malice present. No, this fight was more... desperate. You who needed to see his face, and him, needing to hide it.

All it took was one wrong move. One miscalculation. Red Hood hadn't been paying attention to his footing, too preoccupied with keeping you at arm's length. Before he knew it his heel slipped from the billboard walkway. You grabbed him.

By the helmet.

His dead weight combined with your pulling resulted in him landing harshly below you. His feet hit the ground with an echoed slam. There in your hands was the infamous Red Hood. Hollow and silent.

You gazed over the edge. There stood the man, black hair whipping violently in the cold wind. A streak of white stood out in the darkness. He stared up at you, a snarl on his lips.

You knew that face.

"... Robin?"

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Harvest Moon in Aries ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

In my experience, Full Harvest Moon is always significant for those who are more spiritually attuned. This period allows—almost forces, actually—us to die to the previous cycle of our lives much like the trees shedding their leaves. This is a period of slowing down; of calm but maybe also a little bit of depression; of sweeping changes and moving places; of pausing and recalibration; which could cause a sickening sense of losing control of our lives, though in reality, we’re just being prepared for a massive transformation.

If anything, all these changes are the perfect answers to all you’ve prayed for! It’s harvest time for a lot of us! Some of us are having a mini harvest but those are results nevertheless. You’ve done marvellously well to be here right now. And haven’t you grown so much? I’m grateful you’ve made it this far.

Speak into existence your higher intent this Harvest Moon. Be at peace knowing that whatever transpires, everything works out in your favour. Your manifestations are protected, more than you may realise. Work on beautifying all elements of your Life, taking care of all aspects of your physical and spiritual health, and most of all, enjoy Life. All the changes you’ve managed to manifest thus far. There’s plenty more coming but you can’t compete with Destiny, yeah?

All in Divine Timing~🌕Congratulations and happy harvest~🌾

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Pile 1 – Returning to the Essentials

intent – Ace of Pentacles

You’ve made it exceedingly clear to the Universe that you want a higher sense of stability in your Life. You might’ve come from a background of poverty mindset or that your environment was brimming with individuals operating on lack mindset. A lot of the people you used to surround yourself with were literal peasants in that they’re always hungry for something more… but won’t work on themselves to become a vibrational match to those higher desires. So, essentially, beggars. Beggars for love, for money, attention, recognition, status, you name it.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting those seemingly unspiritual things, what is a problem is the sense of underserving of those things that people won’t even make the first step towards planting those seeds of manifestation for their own personal fulfilment. Such people only end up with rotten envy, jealousy, spite, bitterness, and even resentment. You saw all of that. Swam in an ocean of such mindsets and tendencies. You finally woke up and said, ‘I want none of that nonsense anymore. None of it is natural. I want out!’

sow – 4 of Cups

So, you ejected yourself from those situations and possibly burnt some bridges. It was better to be alone and work on the essentials. You get to know yourself better that way, all strengths and weaknesses, all opportunities and challenges. You’ve enjoyed learning and studying things that inspire you to continue to build a sparkly Life, right? You’ve worked plenty hard on your own fixing your internal compass, haven’t you? None of that will ever go to waste. You were creating vibrational pathways towards your Highest Possible Intended Destiny. It’s time to begin anew with your visions. Your plans are taking shape. You can see clearly where to step in your next chapter of hustle.

I guess, you’re still feeling like you’re not quite there yet. Or that it feels like your desired reality is taking its sweet time. I guess you could be struggling with dissatisfaction every now and then. Or that certain days you can’t believe the insane level of boredom that suddenly strikes. Sometimes you wonder if there’s any meaning to all this internal hustle you’ve been doing. But there totally is and the fact of the matter is that you’re building strength and momentum at the present moment. I suspect very strongly you’re going to be insanely busy in the next cycle of your Life. Cherish this period. It probably will never come again and soon enough this chapter is only gonna remain a memory you recount sometimes as part of your Life’s Story.

reap – 4 of Wands

And finally, I’m sure you’re already feeling this without anyone else telling you: you’re returning to the essentials. You’ve rediscovered the essence of your being. The styles that suit you. Pursuits that delight you genuinely. These are the few things that truly matter to you and that’s all you want to spend energy on. If in the past you were frantically chasing a few forms of aesthetics or had a number of dreams to pursue, you’ve narrowed everything down to only the essentials—the ones that truly make you feel excited, alive.

Although it feels like returning to your inner child essence, at the same time, you’re not the old you. You’re completely brand new. You’re like a transcendent version of your truer self in the past. It feels strangely nostalgic but also novel. Like you’re holding this inexplicable paradox inside of you. But the truth is, you’ve simply transcended above the duality of light and dark, good and bad. You’re now living in the non-dualistic 5D version of this Earth Matrix. Congrats! You’ve truly awakened! Welcome to 5D Earth, Master Manifestor~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 2 – Your Heart Has the Best Compass

intent – VII The Chariot

First of all, you’re an incredibly intuitive person and to a large extent, I think you’re psychic. You could have one or two of the clairs. Clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, claircognisance. You are often guided by your intuition to make changes or attempts that may not always look sensible or responsible by other people. But you seem to have disregarded all of other’s expectations or advice. You believed in yourself and decided to pursue something dearly important to your heart. In a manner of speaking, you were following the path of your Destiny, so congrats! You made the right decision. From here on you can only get stronger.

In your physical Reality, I see you experiencing bounds and leaps of good fortune! You don’t need a shooting star to help make your dreams come true now, you are the Star itself. You make what you want come to Light. It’s possible you’re gonna see people in your Reality being more polite, helpful, cuter, kinder, and generally more pleasant. You’d be like, ‘Did I just jump timelines? Is this still the same Earth I’m used to?!’ Well, you quantum jumped into a higher dimension of Reality and you should be proud of all the inner work you’ve done to be in alignment with these higher frequencies!

sow – Knight of Cups

So, this is another water/emotion energy. The Knight here is simply saying you’re ready to take your Life to the next level of happiness—a spiritual variety of contentment whilst living on Earth. I think you want Love? XD You’re beginning to really want what people call ‘5D relationships’. You want to meet your Soul Mates, your Destined Person, your Soul Tribe. You want Love in a peaceful, exciting, creative world. And you’re going to ‘work’ on that. You’ve decided to never let anyone disrespect you for all the weirdness you have to show them. Unapologetic for days. You ain’t afraid to be seen as a bitch, or a weirdo, an alien, or even a villain.

Nevertheless, all that is just the outer package of your person, which is needed to navigate some hardships in Life when they arise. On the inside, you’ve truly become soft, peaceful, content, and I think you’re pretty much happy with where you are in Life now. Out of all the Piles, yours feels most like you’re truly starting something new that you’re passionate about. There’s something you’ve been meaning to do/create/launch which is only needing the right Divine Timing. Once you hit the bell, there’s no snooze button—you’re going on a ride! Life is gonna get super exciting, so stay on your lane because you’re totally on the right path towards changing your Life!

reap – 3 of Pentacles Rx

When your Life finally takes that amazing turn, you’re going to be spoiled by the Universe with a lot of happiness. I’m seeing SO much abundance beyond material means. You’re going to be SO beautiful. I’m seeing a crazy glow up one way or another. Perhaps because now you have access to those things that can support a glow up. New wardrobe. New teeth. New face for some… New country. New house. New everything and you look gorgeous! That said, there are family members or childhood friends who are totally NOT gonna understand your transformation. Yeah… let peasant be peasants if you ask me.

There are those of you who will want to provide for your family/friends with your newfound wealth and if they’re deserving of that, why not? Just please don’t do any of that with the desire to get their approval, and this is especially the case if your family/friends are incredibly toxic. Live for yourself, babe. Share only with those who are deserving. Only you can decide this but ultimately, respect yourself enough to never beg the acknowledgement of those who are already committed to seeing you in a negative light. Never let ANYBODY reduce your accomplishments, transformations, your Light. Never let anybody poop on your parade XD

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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Pile 3 – Hand of Fucking Midas

intent – Page of Wands

Okay, in spite of the title, of all the Piles, your energy has a sage vibe to it. I feel like you’ve transformed into a spiritual master of sort. You got away from the Matrix’s rat race. All the riches you used to think you should have in order to feel like you belonged in society have gone out the window. There are so many material things you do not care about anymore. You’ve rediscovered your essence as a spiritual being having a Human experience. It’s all just a Game and you’re going to have the best-value experience whilst being here. You’ve cultivated a mindset of beauty. ‘Nothing is worthwhile if it’s not beautiful.’

You only want to float beautifully until the day you die. The paradox of your existence is that now that you don’t desire anything desperately anymore, everything comes to you ever so effortlessly. Perhaps it really is because you don’t care if it comes to you or not. It’s exactly because you’re free from worries and anxieties that your positive vibrations effortlessly call forth those positive expectations into your energetic field, and surely enough, they manifest in the physical whether or not you really want them. Paradox. Paradox.

sow – 5 of Pentacles

Reiterating the previous message, here is you sowing seeds of nothingness in this world. From nothingness comes everything. If you don’t limit yourself, anything, literally everything, is possible to create. You’ve tapped into the VOID and understood the secret of Co-Creation. Might it be that you’ve had a really strange, esoteric dream recently? I think you could’ve been activated in your sleep. I feel more strongly that this whole developing a Midas Touch was brought about after transmuting a fuckload of personal traumas you’ve accumulated in this incarnation.

You’ve been through all the sides of sorrow and happiness that now you’re clearer as to what kinds of things are truly meaningful for a Human existence. Now you only want the essentials, and those things you consider essentials are concepts still too difficult too grasp for most Humans. Though you do not carry the essence of being Human, you more than them understand what being Human should be all about. It’s insane. It’s all paradoxical. But you’re here on a mission to beautify this realm. To help Mankind elevate themselves above the status of being miserable slaves—slaves often to their own toxic desires. You’ve transcended all of that via your own suffering.

reap – 9 of Pentacles

From here on, there is no more lack. Because you don’t want much anymore. You’ve let go of all the tight grips on the illusions and temptations of the Matrix. Your wants are now purer, kinder, fairer. I feel you want everybody to have also the things that you take for granted. You want everybody to share in the bounty of the natural world easily. ‘There are things in this world that are NOT supposed to be expensive.’ You want everybody to have access to basic needs at a decent level/quality without having to pay for a premium.

All of that said, I think in the future you’re soon going to have your own business that helps improve the lives of your community instead of ruining the ecosystem and making it hard for everybody. If not a business, you could be involved in some sort of invention or revolution that could, well, revolutionise the way many people live, work or approach businesses on their own terms. I think this Pile has the potential to change the world for the better. You may not care that much about such wild dreams for now, for you are currently peacefully enjoying some fruits of your intense spiritual labour thus far.

But it’s coming, baby~ Your train to awesome is coming to pick you up. Just chill~ When Divine Timing strikes, your body is gonna move on its own😉

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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[accirax]

What is your opinion on the DRDT time loop theory? If you do have any thoughts on it, what do you think Mai, the Teacher & the past kg/(assumption) the altdrdt kg have to do with it? (Mai and Teacher often exist in proxy to evidence for this theory & the 'past killing game' & the teacher are clearly closely connected.)

Alright, so this one is going to be a bit more of a challenge than usual because, as I confirmed, the “DRDT Time Loop Theory” doesn’t exactly… exist. I mean, it definitely does, because you know what it means, and I know what it means, and I’m willing to bet that many other people who will encounter this post also know what it means. But, everyone’s understanding of it is pretty vague and scattered because no one has ever written it out before. Other than kind of this 3 minute segment of a video by Ocean Unknown (which never even says the words “time loop” directly, it just discusses a major piece of evidence for the theory), as well as this work-around by @/1moreff-creator, there isn’t any document I can read or video I can watch to base my opinion off of.

Therefore, this leaves me in the position of having to establish the original scripture for what the DRDT Time Loop Theory is, and then give my thoughts on how plausible it might be. Naturally, this may result in my answers having some obvious bias to them in one way or another– either that I will misrepresent some evidence because I don’t think the idea is plausible, or that I will become convinced of the theory because it’s tailored to exactly what I think makes the most sense– but, no matter! Somebody had to establish this someday, and I’m honored that you regard my opinion highly enough to task me as the one to do it. Here we go!

I usually like to establish a sort of premise to each of my theories near the beginning, because I think it provides a good structure through which people can pace themselves and know what to expect. For this theory, I think it will make the most sense to create sections based on the basic questions: who, what, when, where, why, and how. Although, not necessarily in that order. Or rather, definitely not in that order, because I know where I’m going to start.

What?

‘Cause, like, what? What is the time loop theory? That’s where we should start.

As far as I’m aware, the time loop theory is mainly based on the combination of two different pieces of evidence. The first hails from DRDT’s About Page. In the same fashion that people found each character’s hidden quotes on their profiles, you can find a long monologue in the code of the text. I’ll copy it here for convenience:

“You don’t understand, do you? I used to be like you. I barely remember, but I used to be like you. I cared so much about people, I cried everytime someone was hurt. I suffered for a long time stuck in here caring about people. I know what you’re going through. You’re going to hold on as long as you have, with hope that you can make it out of here with everyone. Then you’re going to despair. That lasts a while, too. Then you’ll get bored. Like me. And you’ll wish you were still suffering. Anything else is better than boredom. I wish I could feel something, anything else, other than being bored. I’m stuck in here for eternity, and I know everything that could possibly happen. I know how everyone reacts to a murder, what makes people turn to despair, what fills people with hope and make them survive until we all run out of food and starve to death. I wish I could feel terrified, or afraid, or angry. But I can’t anymore. I don’t feel anything at all except boredom. Do you understand, Teacher? This is why I’m letting you suffer as long as possible. Because it’s better than the alternative. I’m sorry. I don’t envy you. You’ll understand eventually.”

Because this quote is found on the About page, we can’t tie it to any one character in particular like we can for the secret quotes. Many people suspect this quote may have come from DRDT’s mastermind, but we obviously don’t know who that is, either. To help us establish the speaker’s character, let’s see what we can infer about them from what they’ve said.

Firstly, we know that this character has been through a lot. They started off caring, then turned to cruelty, yet wound up feeling nothing but boredom in the end. Notably, however, this is only the way that this character sees themself– how kind or how cruel they were is subject to their own perspective. Personally, I don’t think that the speaker is as dead inside as they claim to be. The fact that they wind up relating themselves to “Teacher” and taking actions to minimize Teacher’s suffering proves that they haven’t fully given up on humanity or caring for others.

The speaker also seems to think pretty highly of themself. They begin the passage by assuming that Teacher couldn’t possibly understand what they’ve gone through, and see themself as a tortured Atlas bearing the weight of all knowledge on their shoulder (“I know everything that could possibly happen”). The whole “this is for your own good” mentality also shows them as somewhat patronizing and commandeering.

As for some of the more physical details, while it’s not 100% confirmed, it seems pretty clear that the speaker is or was in a killing game. A murder can occur pretty much anywhere that there are two people, but “how everyone reacts to a murder” really makes it seem like the speaker is in a place where murder is expected. And then, there are the obvious references to hope and despair, which we all know are super killing-game-coded words.

The phrase that I find most interesting in the About Page quote (APQ) is “until we all run out of food and starve to death.” The speaker including themselves in a “we” means that they do identify as part of the group that is stuck in a killing game. Therefore, we can learn that 1) the speaker does not have a secret way to exit the killing game facility and/or time loop, and 2) the speaker is in a physical space, not a metaphysical one. They’re just as vulnerable to starvation (and possibly being killed?) as anyone else. This could be important when it comes to establishing how the time loop came to be and what kind of time loop it is.

And then, of course, there’s Teacher.

Due to the “wants to become the perfect teacher” tagline, many people have come to assume that the Teacher that the APQ refers to is a member of the unnamed fangan (which I call altDRDT) cast. Specifically, that brown-and-red-haired gentleman in the middle. This theory was basically confirmed by the second of the three Christmas 2023 comics DRDTdev posted.

Furthermore, one of the few images we have of him is with a piece of chalk and chalkboard.

We know from the altDRDT FAQ page that Teacher uses he/him pronouns (along with “Soundwave,” “XF,” “Dandelion,” “Scale,” “Bullet,” and “Ice”), which is important in potentially connecting him to the scholarly “him” that Min mentioned in A History of Hope’s Peak.

Therefore, the “Teacher” that the speaker is talking to is very likely to be altDRDT’s Teacher. However, I do want to take a moment to provide a bit of a counterargument. I don’t doubt that our close-eyed compatriot is the Ultimate Teacher. However, I also don’t want to assume that the person who’s trying to become the perfect teacher has to be the same as the Ultimate Teacher, despite the obvious throughline. For example, couldn’t the speaker of the APQ be trying to teach their beliefs to Teacher, searching for the perfect way to get him to understand what needs to be done? I still think that the Teacher that the speaker refers to is probably the altDRDT character, but I wanted us all to reach that conclusion while considering what’s outside the box.

Regardless, there’s clearly a lot to consider here. The people who first discovered this quote thought so as well, and started looking for answers by connecting it to things we’ve already seen in DRDT. The most popular connection comes from the prologue, Veronika’s introduction in particular. Remember when she rants to Teruko and Xander about the (fictional) book Forever Dead? It goes by pretty quick, but her summary is quite interesting:

And thus, the exact phrasing of the “time loop” began. Forever Dead touches upon a lot of the same plot points that the speaker brings up in the APQ. People die, the main character transforms from invested to bored, and straddles the border between relatable and sinister.

We also learn a bit more about the speaker and what happened/will happen to him. He identifies as a boy (who uses he/him pronouns), he’s impaled by metal spikes and left to die at some point, and he manages to apologize for “everything he did,” though apparently only through some level of force. “Everything he did” is interestingly vague– is that implying that the boy was the cause of the time loop, or just that he was apologizing for the terrible things he did as a result of his bored insanity? What forced him into the apology if he was “left alone?” These characteristics may apply to the APQ speaker as well, under the assumption that the boy and the speaker are allegories for the same character.

So, those are the two main pieces of information that I’m aware of that lead people to devise the time loop theory. In case it’s important, I’ve also compiled some of the instances I could remember offhand of DRDT characters bringing up the cyclical nature of humanity and how things never change.

Any of these characters’ ideas about what “always has to happen” could be supported and/or challenged in the future by a time loop.

I also know that some people like to bring up the comments section portion of Literature Girl Insane (conveniently written over the words “the world won’t change!”) as evidence of DRDT being stuck in a time loop. I could explain why I don’t think that’s the case, but FF already did that as part of their giant LGI analysis video (which I will continue to recommend). I don’t think I can really put it any better than they did, so I encourage you to watch that section of the video at least if you’re curious as to why I won’t be including this as evidence.

And now, for a summary of what we’ve learned so far, the basics of the Time Loop Theory. Due to the About Page Quote, the summary of Forever Dead, and references to cyclical behavior, some believe that the characters in the DRDT killing game are experiencing a time loop. The speaker of the APQ, who is possibly the mastermind, is likely the only one of the sixteen students who is aware of this. When the loop began, they put their all into trying to achieve the best ending. However, over time, they became more bitter, first turning to wreaking havoc before succumbing to apathy. They have somehow captured “Teacher,” the protagonist of altDRDT, in an inescapable state of suffering, in order to teach him a lesson about how foolish it is to continue to care about others. They’re a bit of a cynical know-it-all, but their dedication to correcting Teacher’s behavior proves that they haven’t fully given up on humanity.

Basic facts, established! However, this is still pretty vague, and there are plenty more details to sort through. How about we start with…

How?

Because even among people who believe there is a time loop, there are many definitions of what a time loop can mean. In this section, I’ll aim to figure out which I think is the most likely in two broad categorization systems.

Is the time loop meta or non-meta?

A meta time loop would be one that is directly caused by the player/viewer interacting with the property, breaking the fourth wall. For DRDT, this would mean something along the lines of “every time you rewatch an episode of Despair Time, the characters are forced to relive the events of the day in an eternal loop, and they’ve started to wise up about it.” Conversely, a non-meta time loop would exist in the plot regardless of what its audience is doing, and be caused by a force that exists within the story. “After Teruko accidentally broke Eden’s favorite grandfather clock, Teruko was cursed to repeat her worst day over and over again.”

DRDT has made some fourth wall-breaking jokes before, such as when MonoTV directly references YouTube or the narrator tells the viewer to like the video and subscribe to give Teruko power. Because of this, it’s really tempting to think that DRDT is going for a meta time loop. However, given the actual text we have to work with, I think it’s more likely that we’re looking at a non-meta time loop. Remember how we learned that the APQ speaker exists in a physical space and not a metaphysical one? Focusing on the physical space of their environment and living conditions is drawing attention to how the world is real to them, not just a collection of pixels flattened into a video file. The Forever Dead boy also had to “apologize for what he did,” which might imply that the character was responsible for the time loop, not the audience.

Most of all, though, it’s the concept of “surviv[ing] until we all run out of food and starve to death” that makes me think that the time loop is not meta. Why? Because it makes it sound like there are different possible endings out there. If the time loop was caused by me going back and repeatedly rewatching the CharWhit FTE, there’s only one way that that FTE can start, and one way it can end. No matter how many times I make the characters loop that interaction, there’s only one version of that episode posted to YouTube. The APQ speaker makes it clear that they, as a character, attempted multiple things and achieved different results with them until they exhausted all viable possibilities and grew bored. I can only make the characters do one thing, but the characters within the story can, in theory, do whatever they want.

Really, a lot of it boils down to the medium in which DRDT is told. A lot of what I “know” about time loops comes from watching theory videos about Undertale and Deltarune. I won’t spoil either of those games for those who haven’t played them, but in Undertale, the player’s input is directly related to the time travel elements that the characters experience. This connection works really well because Undertale is a video game. Video games are a fantastic medium for meta commentary because player input is required for the game to function. The player can make choices of where to go or who to trust that have an impact on the story, which then makes it easy for the story to turn back towards the player and question the choices they made. DRDT, however, is a video series, not a game like the original Danganronpa. Its formatting would make calling the viewer’s impact into question, because we’ve hardly done anything other than want to watch the show. We have no impact on the direction of the plot.

Of course, I’m not trying to say that it’s impossible for anything other than a video game to tackle meta subjects. DRDTdev should be allowed to tell a meta fangan story without being forced into the life of a programmer. However, with all these elements combined, I think it’s more likely that DRDT’s time loop would be a canonical, non-meta one. Because of this, our follow up questions will be based around how the time loop could have formed in canon.

Is the time loop magical or scientific in origin?

A magical time loop could be something that appears as some sort of spell, legend, or artifact, such as the example with Teruko and the grandfather clock that I provided above. I would also count time loops that just appear out of nowhere in the “magical” category. One of the most famous time loop stories in modern Western cinema, Groundhog Day, could be thought of as a magical time loop, because the main character entered a time loop as a repercussion for his rotten personality seemingly out of nowhere. A scientific time loop would be the consequence of pushing the boundaries of science, whether purposefully (“Veronika, after researching the fourth dimension, put the killing game in a time loop so that she could experience its thrills forever”) or accidentally (“Trying to bring Ellie back to life, Charles’ time machine malfunctioned and trapped him in a time loop”).

Honestly, I’m really torn on this one. That may come as a surprise to some of you– how on earth could DRDT’s time loop be magical? The answer is our lovely protagonist herself, Teruko Tawaki. If Teruko’s luck, a supernatural force, created the time loop, then it’s magical in origin. It’s already been hinted that this could be the case through Teruko’s “you all have the misfortune of being ‘characters’” speech. Does Teruko know how stories like this work out because she’s looped through them before? If Mai is a lucky student, the time loop being a result of her luck or the combination of her and Teruko’s luck would also be magical. Assuming that luck was something that they were born with, that is.

However, it would also be very easy for DRDT’s time loop to be scientific in origin. The mysterious company XF-Ture Tech is clearly being set up for some kind of relevance down the road, which could be a science experiment gone wrong that resulted in a time loop. This could even be the thing that “Unnamed Student” (Mai) asked Xander to dig into.

That might seem like a bit of a leap, given that Mai is asking Xander to look into Hope’s Peak, not XF-Ture Tech. However, we already know that XF Tech had a vested interest in Hope’s Peak through their sponsorship of Min.

Personally, I don’t think that the XF Tech CEO would have had much personal interest in Min outside of her skill/potential, based on how Min describes him as a stranger. That means that the CEO’s goals must have been to sponsor the future Ultimate Student. The entire Ultimate Contest may have existed just because XF Tech wanted to get an insider within the Hope’s Peak system. There’s evidence to show that Hope’s Peak and XF Tech may have been collaborating– Mai asks why Hope’s Peak would even announce an Ultimate Contest, and Min answers from the perspective of the prospective student. But, why would Hope’s Peak want an Ultimate Student obtained through that method/at that time? If Min really did poison the competition to win, the entire Contest may have been rigged from the beginning to get an XF representative into the East Class.

Because of all this, I’m inclined to say that DRDT’s time loop is both magical and scientific in origin. Here’s what I’m thinking: 13-27 years ago, XF-Ture Tech signed some sort of deal with the new Hope’s Peak Academy that would allow them to look into students and their talents, much like how the original Hope’s Peak Academy was studying the origins of luck. HPA agreed for the money, while XF Tech believed that the partnership would help them sell better products/services, either through getting the first scoop on up-and-comers in the field or by scientifically developing talent rather than allowing it to occur naturally. That might sound really similar to what already happened in DRDT’s canon universe with the Kamukura project, but, hey, maybe part of the whole “time loop” motif would be history repeating and man not being able to shake the desire to play God.

Anyways, when they made this deal (or potentially a little while after it), they also decided that it would be good if XF Tech could be directly represented by one of the students in a future class. I can’t say exactly why they wanted this to be the case, but maybe HPA and XF Tech were either looking for a good excuse to go public with their relationship, or they knew that something or someone relevant would come to pass through the school in ~13 years, and wanted a man on the inside. Therefore, HPA put out a pre-rigged Contest searching for the Ultimate Student, which was destined to be won by whoever the XF Tech CEO determined was the best candidate. The CEO chose Min, and spent 13 years coaxing her into the perfect grateful, insecure, and study-focused representative out there.

Whether it was their goal from the start or a new development that caught their eye, XF Tech took particular note of Teruko and her strange luck, and wanted to research it. Teruko, who was desperate for support, let them study her, and eventually came to trust that they had her best interests at heart. But, over time, they pushed it too far. As some sort of reaction to their scientific prodding, Teruko’s luck magically created a time loop in an attempt to prevent XF Tech from bothering her any further.

Cool fanfic, right? While I’m aware that there are a lot of holes and leaps in logic– and we’ll get to those– I do think there’s reason to believe that Teruko is at the epicenter of the time loop for one reason or another. As we were all made aware of at the very beginning of the series…

… ending the killing game is correlated to killing Teruko Tawaki. Therefore, this person at least believes that the end of the killing game is related to the end of Teruko’s life. So, if the time loop is also related to the killing game– which it is, as established by the APQ– then the end of Teruko’s life would also possibly cause the end of the time loop. To quote a wise wizard, it’s maaaagic. The theory that Teruko’s secret is “the killing game is all your fault” also fits here perfectly.

So, it’s not as big of a leap in logic as it might seem like on the surface, even if it’s still basically my audition for being the Ultimate Jumper. However, now that the basics of the theory were mostly established in the “What?” section, I think I have a bit more room to inject my own thoughts and theories in here. I can’t draw any conclusions without making some guesses, and I can’t assess what the hell is going on without any conclusions. Call what follows specifically “Accirax’s Time Loop Theory” if you think I’m starting to veer too far off track from what’s plausible. I promise I’m still going to try to use actual, textual evidence whenever I can, though.

At any rate, there are still a lot of holes. Most notably, why would a time loop that Teruko’s luck created contain a killing game in it? Was she already in a killing game when the time loop began, or did her luck create the killing game? We’ll talk about that a bit more in the next section, along with some other stuff.

When?

Before getting back to the question of why a killing game would happen in this time loop, I think it’s important to establish some of the basic facts that the “When?” section might imply. Such as, “what events occurred before the time loop started?,” and, “what events occurred after the time loop started?” That’s a funny question to ask with regards to time loops specifically, but there are still things we can piece together.

Firstly, we can be pretty confident that the canonical properties Trigger Happy Havoc, Goodbye Despair, Ultra Despair Girls, and End of Hope’s Peak happened before DRDT. (V3 is, as usual, so weird that I have no clue if DRDT will attempt to explain it as part of the canonical timeline or not.) The Tragedy was confirmed as canon to the DRDT universe by Veronika in Chapter 2 Episode 2, and Min/Mai in A History of Hope’s Peak.

If the Tragedy and Hope’s Peak Academy are canon, then I see no reason why those four games, which all relate to the Tragedy, wouldn’t be as well. There’s also the mysterious “Ms. Naegi” that’s listed in the credits of Literature Girl Insane, and Teruko’s reference to “a past killing game.”

Although the event Teruko mentions could be any killing game with Monokuma as its mascot, I would suspect that she is specifically mentioning the Hope’s Peak Academy Killing Game of THH here, as it was the first and the one that was widely broadcast. Notably, although Veronika knows a lot about the Tragedy and by all accounts should be super into the killing games, she doesn’t remember another killing game happening before. That leaves us with two basic options. 1) Teruko had access to secret knowledge about the killing games that the general public didn’t, or, 2) something about the creation of this killing game caused Veronika (and likely the other non-Terukos as well) to forget about the HPA killing game. I would lean towards the second, given that the broadcast of the HPA killing game and Junko’s involvement in it were such major historical events that I would really expect that society wouldn’t forget about them so easily.

Another huge piece of information comes from the Chapter 2 Part 1 Q&A.

From this question, we know that a person who is 80-ish years old was old enough to be alive during the Tragedy itself. In THH, Makoto’s orientation letter is dated to the release year of the game, 2010 (2014 for the English release), which means that the Tragedy probably started in 2011. We can approximate, then, that DRDT takes place sometime around 2090, give or take a few decades depending on how long the Tragedy lasted and at what point with regards to it Duke was born. Not super important to this theory, but it is interesting.

So, the Tragedy probably happened around 80 years before the time loop began. We also know that the school that Min, Mai, and Xander attend, which hosts the East Class, was probably founded ~27 years before the time loop began, because that trio is part of East Class 27. Interestingly, this means that the new American Hope’s Peak was founded ~50 years after the Tragedy. That’s a fairly long amount of time.

As for events that more directly preceded the time loop, I think that both Bonus Episodes would have happened before the killing game, as well as Teruko’s flashback about Mai in Chapter 1. Xander, Min, and Mai attended HPA before encountering the killing game/time loop, despite no one in DRDT remembering ever going to HPA. Rose says in the prologue that it’s been a year or two since the HPA entrance ceremony should have happened, which means that the students probably attended HPA for at least a year before the killing game started. The chalkboard in the classroom that Min and Mai sit in also advertises Spring Break, which, in American schools, is pretty close to the end of the typical school year. That’s more evidence that they spent a considerable amount of time attending HPA.

Now, for events that happened after the inception of the time loop. The only thing I think we know of for sure is the events of the DRDT killing game. That would be part of the time loop, infinitely recurring after the point at which the loop began. I’m also hesitantly going to call altDRDT a sequel instead of a prequel… but, uh, we’ll get more into my overall theories on that later.

Okay, now back to why a loop Teruko’s luck created would have had a killing game in it. I’ve come up with three theories, all of which are… dubious, at best.

Theory #1: The killing game came from Teruko’s subconscious. Teruko’s luck is a part of who she is, and therefore, any effects it may have are based on what Teruko knows and how she feels. Perhaps, just before the time loop began, Teruko learned about the Hope’s Peak Academy Killing Game, whether in class or through shadier sources. When her “magic” snapped and the time loop began, because the killing game was on her mind, it manifested before her. Basically, the time loop would operate much like a dream, where the things you learn in real life come back in surreal ways. I don’t like this one because it leans in really hard to the magic aspect. Although Danganronpa has always been science fiction, letting Teruko’s emotions create an entirely new magical realm seems like jumping the shark.

Theory #2: XF-Ture Tech wanted to test Teruko with a killing game. Their research into her and her luck is quite similar to that of Nagito or the Kamukura project, so why not test their findings in the same ways that Nagito and Hajime were tested? Things amidst this theory that make sense are XF-Ture Tech, a tech company, possibly creating MonoTV, and the prospect of Teruko’s friends dying in a killing game adding an extra kick to why her luck would step in and create a time loop out of desperation. Things that don’t make sense include how the hell XF-Ture Tech would manage to pull this off (especially if constrained by legality/friendship with HPA) and where the hell they would be now. That second question could be answered by, “it was Min,” I suppose, but the first is still off.

Theory #3: The killing game was introduced to contain Teruko. I’m not entirely sure how this would work, but, basically, something else would have triggered Teruko’s luck to start the loop, and then someone (Hope’s Peak, Mai, the Spurlings, who knows) would have introduced a killing game in there in hopes of having something happen. This idea was sort of spurred on by the note that Xander had to kill Teruko Tawaki. Let’s say that Teruko is a huge, powerful problem, much like Junko or Izuru. If you can find a way to breach the time loop she’s created to introduce a killing game, she has to die eventually, right? Victim after victim, blackened after blackened– if Teruko is trapped in an eternal killing game, it seems like at least one of them would have to randomly stumble into her dying. However, I then have to ask how and why the other DRDT characters wound up in this killing game. Them all agreeing to volunteer for this potentially kamikaze plan seems unrealistic given their personalities. So, were they just collateral damage of the original time loop, roped into this last-ditch effort plan? How would a seemingly closed off loop be “breached” to such a drastic extent, anyways?

I once again feel like I’m missing something here, but I also don’t think any of my previous assumptions were wrong. I just can’t understand why the killing game would have come to exist within this time loop. Maybe it has to do with the person who started the killing game?

Who?

Oh yeah, it’s time to talk about the mastermind again, baby. But, obviously, filtering it through the assumption that there is a time loop will change my overall assessments. Now, we have to look for someone with the means, motives, and thematic… fittingness(?) to be involved with Looping the class.

Let’s start with some options that seem so obviously incorrect that I don’t have anything to say. Why would Ace, Hu, Levi, or Nico be the one to have started a killing game within this time loop? Ace’s cowardice already made him seem unlikely, and making the danger zone neverending makes the premise all the more bizarre. You would have to reach pretty far to characterize Hu as the APQ speaker who claims to be incredibly bored and apathetic. Levi wants to change as a person, so inflicting a stagnant time loop seems counter to his goals. Nico… just doesn’t seem to have any aspect of their character line up with the premise of a time loop? Like, if Nico were the character you created to be the mastermind of a time loop killing game, what aspects of how they turned out would reflect that? In my opinion, there are no connections, which makes Nico not it.

Some more less likely options… Arei has some dialogue about people’s behaviors not changing, but especially given her (likely) death, I don’t think it’s enough to call her the mastermind. Given that David is alive, he fares better than Arei under the same scrutiny, but I still feel like the mastermind’s power in this context is more than the desperate, run-ragged David we’ve seen in the second Class Trial. He cares too much, in his own David way. I feel like Rose should be doing better given how highly I ranked her in my main mastermind post, but I’ve been trying to fit the Spurlings into this time loop thing, and I haven’t been able to manage anything. J is much the same, although the whole “TV show” argument still gives her some traction. Although Arturo is generally a smart, scientific kind of guy, being a plastic surgeon doesn’t seem to mesh with whatever science would be needed to make a scientific time loop.

And then there’s Whit. Look. I’m as tired of airing my grievances with Whit mastermind theory as you probably are of reading me air them. However, Whit definitely merits his own section due to one of the main pieces of Whit mastermind scripture (to my knowledge) directly tying the APQ to his candidacy. While I definitely respect and appreciate that aspect of this theory, I don’t buy it myself. By demodraws’ word, this theory is more of a “list of evidence.” The only items on that list that I see directly relate to the APQ are that 1) the Forever Dead character, who may be linked to the speaker, identifies as a boy, and that 2) the speaker expresses grief. Although, that second point is also linked to the belief that the mysterious quote at the beginning of Chapter 1 is said by the same person who said the APQ, which isn’t necessarily the case.

I certainly agree that Whit’s character is the most tied to the concepts of grief and idolizing the dead. However, there are many other characters who do the same. Charles mourns Elliot after remembering his existence, Arturo mourns Felicity whenever he’s confronted with the truth, Xander mourns his family and how he couldn’t do more. (Why do so many DRDT characters have dead family members?) Eden has mourned Min and Arei since their deaths. You can also make the argument that the APQ speaker is more so mourning who they became and how things used to be more than mourning or idolizing any dead compatriots. Rose mourns being shackled to the Spurlings, David mourns the loss of his career once his secret is out, Levi mourns never knowing the right thing to say around Ace. With so many griefheads running around, I don’t find Whit’s connection to the subject compelling enough to label him mastermind.

Then there’s the “boy” aspect. Obviously, Whit isn’t the only boy in DRDT either– as far as we know, Xander, Charles, Ace, Levi, Arturo, and David also identify as boys. However, I also don’t think that the Forever Dead character being a boy is a majorly important piece of evidence. Assuming that Forever Dead is autobiography-flavored fiction as opposed to a genuine biography, the gender of the character it’s describing feels like a detail that DRDTdev could have easily changed to make the parallel less obvious. Although, then you might ask, “why bother including the character’s gender at all, then?” In my opinion, Veronika talks for long enough that it would have been really hard to get through the entire monologue without ever establishing a set of pronouns for the protagonist.  “It’s about a _____'' is also a pretty natural way to introduce a story to someone for the first time. Choosing the fairly inconsequential “boy” is a lot less revealing than if Veronika said something more targeted; such as, “it’s about a marriage counselor.” I can’t deny that Veronika talking about a boy could be an important clue, but hopefully I’ve explained why I’m not hinging my entire theory off of it.

Alright, now we’re on to people who I think could genuinely make sense as a time loop mastermind. I think it’s probably most fitting to start with Eden. Because, you know… clocks… time… making time… you can’t go back no matter how hard you try… it’s not a hard conclusion to draw. DRDT has many underlying mysteries, but as compared to something as mysterious as, say, Mai, the concept of a time loop is even further obscured. Making your mastermind the Ultimate Clockmaker is something that would seem totally harmless on the surface, but be a great twist when the truth of the time loop is revealed. The issue is… other than her talent, I don’t think Eden has much going for her here. I guess you could argue that, if the killing game time loop is meant to help Teruko in some way, Eden has been very dedicated to her goal of supporting others. However, whether that’s the case or not, it’s hard to make an argument that Eden doesn’t care about anything anymore.

Maybe if the APQ quote is said in the future, and this is evidence of Eden undergoing the change that the APQ speaker described…? Eden is a definite possibility, but given all this in addition to my other theories as to where her character is headed, I think it’s an unlikely one.

Next, Veronika. As the one who introduced us to Forever Dead, she definitely has some connection to this time loop nonsense. The question is, how strong can that connection get? The main thing that I like about Veronika being the time loop mastermind is how well her character seems to fit with the APQ speaker’s personality. Both of them face boredom as their greatest enemy, and the APQ listing terror and fear as the top two emotions they wish they could still feel would match really well with a Horror Fanatic. My biggest problem is my main issue with Veronika being the mastermind in general: it just feels too obvious. Having Veronika directly state, “I can’t stand boring things,” and having the APQ speaker directly state, “anything else is better than boredom” is a really, really clear connection between the two. Would DRDTdev really want to drop such a decisive clue so early into the story? I can’t be sure. But my gut leans “no.”

It’s kind of impossible to talk about the possibility of Xander or Min being the time loop mastermind separately, because they share so many of the same points. Under the assumption that XF-Ture Tech is behind the time loop somehow, both of them may have connections to it. Min’s is undeniable– she’s clearly told us that they’ve sponsored her, and she wears their paraphernalia– while Xander may have been interrogating their actions as part of Mai’s scheme and/or in the first scene with the bloody hands over the documents. Both of them would serve similar narrative roles as someone who Teruko once wanted to trust who then betrayed her. And, obviously, both of them would be characters who appeared to die in Chapter 1 who would then return to serve as the mastermind, which could be an out-of-universe parallel or an in-universe reference to how Junko portrayed herself in the Hope’s Peak Academy killing game. Using a time loop to bring your thought-to-be-dead mastermind back for Chapter 6 would be pretty sick, I have to say.

Similarly, both of their greatest flaws lie within the realm of characterization. Neither of them strike me as the particularly apathetic type– Xander still seems to care ferociously about doing what’s right, and Min sounded genuinely desperate as she pleaded for her life. It’s possible that they could have been acting, or some time-loop induced amnesia made them forget their true feelings, but either case would still be a major shift in character. If I had to pick one of them to be more likely, I’d probably go with Min? The speaker’s insistence that they know what’s up could match with Min’s scholarly attitude, and I like her increased connection to XF Tech as well as Teacher. However, I still feel that Xander would have the greater impact upon being brought back– Teruko grew closer to him than she did to Min, and other characters, such as David (if he’s still alive) would also likely have a greater reaction to Xander’s return– so for that reason, I kind of prefer him as well.

Despite the pros and cons of all fifteen other options, this theory is clearly the most straightforward if Teruko is the mastermind. You remove all elements of how someone would have to spring either the killing game or the time loop on Teruko, and allow her to make all of the plans herself. Whether it was fully intentional or not, “the killing game is all your fault” (italicization mine) would make the most sense in this scenario. Furthermore, Teruko definitely fits the attitude of the APQ. I don’t know when she would have said it– between loops, possibly?-- but I can totally imagine her outlining how she used to care, but constant suffering and betrayal caused her to corrode.

The real question here is just why she would have put herself in the killing game to begin with. My first thought was “go through a killing game an infinite number of times and somehow something will finally result in getting Teruko to die,” if Teruko wants to die. But, that sort of contradicts what probably-Xander had to say about “end the killing game or at least kill Teruko.” Because, if the killing game is intended to kill Teruko, then ending the killing game could mean Teruko doesn't die, not satisfying what's framed as the more important of the two goals. Maybe if he was just mistaken as to what the purpose of the game was…? Or, if the time loop leaned more on the magical side, maybe the loop itself is keeping Teruko in the killing game until she can learn to trust others, no matter how dire the consequences. These other Ultimates were looped in for… accuracy to Junko’s original, I suppose? Or, maybe Teruko threw them in as a form of punishment for their misdeeds.

Anyone who isn’t a part of a killing game, such as Elliot or Ryan, raises some questions about how the speaker could be “stuck in here” and communicating with those who are part of the time loop. The most obvious option in this category is Mai, simply due to being the most relevant to the plot. She’s heavily involved with the secrets hidden in the website’s code, just like the APQ, and we know from Teruko’s own quote that “some years ago, [Mai] was searching for someone named ‘Teruko Tawaki.’” We also don’t technically know what her Ultimate talent is (although I think it’s very likely to be Lucky Student), which leaves the door open for her talent to be something useful with regards to setting the time loop up. Even a second Lucky Student could create some sort of weird clash of the titans that resulted in a time loop.

A common argument against Mai being the mastermind is that she is, in all likelihood, dead. However, with a time loop in play, there’s the possibility of resurrection. It could even be the reason why Teruko (or whoever) created the time loop in the first place. However, even if it’s pretty likely that Mai could be involved in the conception of the time loop, I’m not sure if it would be in a way that made her the APQ speaker and/or the mastermind. For the former, it’s that same issue of not being in the killing game, and for the latter, I more so see someone else creating the killing game for her than her making it herself. Probably. I dunno, Mai is a mystery.

Given the criteria of “in a killing game,” it’s also possible that the APQ speaker could be one of the characters in the altDRDT cast, though presumably not Teacher. They would have the easiest path to talk to Teacher, as opposed to the regular DRDT cast, who may have more trouble accessing him. However, there’s basically no shot at anyone in the altDRDT cast being DRDT’s mastermind, other than maybe Teacher. None of those characters have appeared on DRDT’s main hub, its YouTube channel, at all. Suddenly unveiling one of those characters– who even the hardcore fans know very little about– as the mastermind would be pretty out of nowhere. So, to the extent that the mastermind was the one who set up the time loop, I don’t think that any of the altDRDT characters created the time loop.

I think that’s pretty much every viable time loop mastermind option. I don’t know if we really determined anything all too specific, but it’s nice to sort out where all our pieces lie. As I said, I think that Teruko is by far the most logical option under the assumption that the killing game and the time loop are connected in a way where they must have been created by the same person. However, there are definitely other possibilities if you allow yourself to think outside that box.

Why?

On to arguably the most important of the categories: why? It doesn’t matter how much logical sense a time loop would make in DRDT’s world if there’s no narrative reason for it to exist in the first place. How would adding a time loop to DRDT’s story improve its themes and messages?

Well, as I already discussed in the What? and Who? sections, many characters grapple with themes of an unchanging world. What better device to reflect that mentality than one that literally shows the same sequence repeating over and over again? The fantastical concept of a time loop could emphasize and heighten the mistrust that Teruko feels. Using the time loop in that way would assign a concrete obstacle to an internal struggle, much like how the killing game itself is a physical manifestation of the helplessness of despair. Writers often enjoy employing devices like these to have a more tangible end goal for the protagonist to notably vanquish. Knowing exactly what’s going on in Teruko’s mind at any given moment might be difficult, especially given DRDT’s format. But, if Teruko sends the time loop created by her own tragic expectations shattering to pieces, we’ll know she made progress.

Additionally, Danganronpa itself posed the question of why we as fans continue to be interested in the killing game formula after seeing it play out so many times. In v3, they framed the killing game as the 53rd in a series to further emphasize the repetitive nature of this ritual sacrifice. Putting DRDT in a time loop could accomplish a very similar goal. As Veronika theorized in Chapter 2 Episode 7, the killing game will only continue for as long as audiences are entertained by it. In a never ending time loop killing game, will fans always be able to find entertainment? What does that say about them…?

Having a killing game within a time loop is a unique premise, as far as I’m aware. I’ve never before seen a fangan that decided to incorporate that into its plot. (Although, that may be a symptom of fangans tending to fizzle out before the finish line.) Making a fangan stand out can be tricky, and although DRDT already has the advantage of being fully illustrated, partially voice acted, and shown in a video format, having a unique gimmick can be a point of inspiration and a sales pitch. Similarly, Ultimate Lucky Student is a talent often tackled, both by the canon games (twice) and by other fangans. If the time loop is related to Teruko’s luck, that would also be a memorable and creative interpretation of a commonplace talent.

As for how a time loop would actually impact the story as it is, the obstacle it creates would definitely raise the stakes high for a Chapter 6 Trial. Like, how the hell are they supposed to beat that? Reiterating what I said earlier, a time loop could also be a clever way to revive a character (or characters) who previously died. If one of the starting premises of DRDT was “what if I had a mastermind that appeared to die in ch1, only to strikingly return in the finale?”, a time loop could have been the method invented to make that happen.

So, in summary, yes, I think there is sufficient narrative support to justify the inclusion of a time loop in DRDT. Maybe I should’ve cleared this section out of the way earlier in the theory. Oh well, too late now. But, if I had the chance to start it all over again, maybe I could do things differently next time…! Or, maybe I’d wind up writing the same thing every time regardless…

Where?

It’s a little silly of me to co-opt the “Where?” section as basically a summary of how I think the time loop theory would best play out, but I have my reasons. “Where?” seeks to answer where the time loop originated, and who was in it when it started. Thus, with so much focus on how the time loop began, talking about the cause and result alongside that made sense to me. The full Accirax Time Loop Theory will be in blue below, with more discussion afterward to answer whether I believe in it or not. Closing Argument starts… now!

The Tragedy ended nearly 80 years ago, and the new American Hope’s Peak Academy was founded about 50 years after that. Some time between HPA’s founding and 13 years ago, an up-and-coming tech company– XF-Ture Tech– partnered with Hope’s Peak Academy to take a more scientific look at the origins of talent in young students, much like what happened in pre-Tragedy days. XF-Ture Tech already had their eyes on one promising youth, “XF,” who they prepared to send to the West Academy. To place a representative into the East Class, XF Tech encouraged Hope’s Peak Academy to host the Ultimate Contest, with the intention of rigging the exam to get their applicant of choice into the school. This wound up being Min Jeung, who was placed in East Class 27.

Whether because of XF Tech’s request or simply due to respect for the history of the Academy, Hope’s Peak also once again began admitting Ultimate Lucky Students into their program. Their two candidates for Class 27 were Teruko Tawaki, who was sent to the West Academy, and Mai Akasaki, who was sent to the East Academy. XF Tech was quite interested in both of the students, but particularly Teruko. The way that her bad luck affected not only herself, but others as well, was very reminiscent of Nagito Komaeda, a major historical figure in both the start and the end of the Tragedy. XF Tech told both Min and “XF” to look out for Teruko as best they could, making sure nothing would come to harm their new test subject, and prepared to begin experimenting on Teruko’s luck.

Meanwhile, in the East Class, Mai fit in swimmingly. She grew really close with all of her classmates, but particularly with Min and Xander. Mai had already begun searching for Teruko several years before they wound up being recruited at opposite Hope’s Peaks– possibly because of their shared connection to good and/or bad luck– so when she heard a bit more about Teruko from Min, her interest was piqued. Recruiting her favorite Rebel to the cause, Mai asked Xander to sneak around in Hope’s Peak Academy to learn more about what the connection between the Academy, XF-Ture Tech, and Teruko was.

What they learned in the documents was the reality of what was happening in the West Class: XF-Tech was intermittently running physical and mental tests on Teruko to determine exactly what the range and power of her curse-like abilities was. Could her raw Ultimate power rival that of someone like Nagito, or perhaps even Junko Enoshima? Throwing a few mediocre lives at that question would be well worth the answer, wouldn’t it…?

Using their social connections and financial power, XF-Ture Tech arranged for West Class 27 to be taken to a self-contained abandoned mall to begin their most dramatic test yet: seeing if Teruko’s luck would carry her through a killing game against other Ultimates, just as it could have for Nagito or Junko or as it did for Izuru Kamukura. The killing game commenced, and while Teruko might not have been a target from Day 1, at some point in the story, someone attempted to kill her. And… It worked.

What a disappointment. Was Teruko’s luck really so weak when push came to shove?

But then, something truly unexpected happened: the killing game began again. Unable to accept her death, Teruko’s luck engulfed the entire mall into a time loop, running the killing game over and over again until the results were satisfactory. The rest of the world moved forward in linear time as usual, but the mall was stuck in an infinite killing game. XF Tech, amazed and delighted, diverged all of their resources into the study of this phenomenon, protecting it closely.

Mai and Xander were horrified upon learning this, and knew that they had to do something to save West Class 27. Mai, Xander, and potentially some others ran over to the site of the test to see if they could break in, get further intel, change someone’s mind, or anything to get the killing game to stop. However, as they did, they were attacked by XF Tech’s security, resulting in Xander losing an eye… and Mai losing her life. At that moment, Xander vowed that, no matter what it took, he would end the killing game and save the rest of West 27… or, at the very least, kill Teruko to avenge Mai’s life.

Meanwhile, within the time loop, the deja vu (and possibly some comments from the XF Tech-controlled mascot?) began to make Teruko wise up to what was happening. While her original plan was to get along with everyone in the killing game, trusting them and being their hero, she found that every one of those routes led to death and personal tragedy/betrayal. Teruko learned that, if she stopped caring about others, she could at least cut down on the personal tragedy aspect.

Teacher, as a perceptive and intelligent soul, was the next to piece together that something about the killing game was unnatural based on Teruko’s behavior. In one loop, Teruko winds up saying the APQ to him, revealing her new attitude. Either Teruko or Teacher could fit the description of the Forever Dead boy with how their minds began to fracture.

Outside of the time loop, Xander formulated his new plan. When his village was eradicated, it was a case of the rich and powerful obliterating the little guy with their unmatched resources. To fight back, you have to become as big as your attackers. You can only defeat a time loop with a time loop. You can only save Ultimates by putting more Ultimates’ lives at risk.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hard to motivate the rest of East Class 27 to join Xander in his crusade. Although he himself may have been a love-or-hate figure amidst his classmates, everyone loved Mai, and wanted to help fulfill her dying wish. Plus, in theory, the plan shouldn’t risk any of their lives. Weaponizing the time loop killing game’s unending nature against it, the goal was to repeat the killing game as many times as it takes until Teruko dies as the first victim. Her luck has to fail her at some point– it’s a corrupt system; it can be broken, argues Xander– and at that point, they’ll simply end the killing game with no other casualties. To make it easier on everyone else, Xander even promised to be the one to make the first move against Teruko, every time. He left a note on him when the time loop started to always remind him.

Anyways, using some combination of Xander’s determination, Charles’ science, J and/or David’s money, Whit and/or David’s connections, and remaining vestiges of Mai’s luck (LGI “original” Color Theory pulling through???), East Class 27 managed to break the abandoned mall time loop. They pulled Teruko into their own killing game, “masterminded” by Xander, in which her luck would hopefully be less of an obstacle. The DRDT killing game we’ve seen thus far could be their first attempt or their thousandth, but whatever the case, the plan to get Teruko to die as the first victim hasn’t succeeded thus far. It’s especially hard to get it to work when Teruko has the lingering thought in the back of her mind that she can’t be killed… and when Min still has a vague memory that she’s supposed to keep Teruko out of danger.

Even though the altDRDT cast, West Class 27, escaped the time loop, they aren’t out of the killing game woods just yet. The East Class managed to catch them mid-killing game, after two Trials passed. But, due to the confusion of the time loop, none of them can remember what happened in that particular iteration of the game, or Teruko’s disappearance, which leaves them at only 11 participants. Quite the mysterious circumstance, indeed…

That’s the best I could come up with. Got some points of concern? Me too! Here are the ones I’m thinking of right now:

Would HPA (presumably headed by “Ms. Naegi”) really allow XF-Tech to do anything remotely close to what I described to Teruko?

How would XF-Ture Tech have known enough about Teruko’s luck when Teruko was 5 to recruit Min (and “XF”) to be in the correct classes at the correct time?

Is XF-Ture Tech really that important to the story?

Is Mai actually that close to Min and Xander specifically, or are we just biased because those are the two Bonus Episodes we’ve seen thus far?

Didn't Mai and Teruko have a more extensive connection than what was described? (Matching tattoos, phone charms)

Why would Teruko’s luck create a time loop specifically? Why wouldn't it come up with some other way to save her?

Why would the time loop only be constrained to the mall?

Would Xander ever be willing to come that close to sacrificing innocents’ lives for the plan?

Would the entire DRDT cast really be willing to risk their time, if nothing else, to enter a killing game just to "avenge" Mai?

What could they have actually done against Teruko’s luck to break the mall time loop?

How could they have guaranteed that another time loop would begin if they managed to steal Teruko?

Where did MonoTV come from?

Why would the students have themed the killing game around TV?

Why would they throw the embarrassing secrets motive into their killing game if it was only meant to kill Teruko/that “round” theoretically shouldn’t even happen?

Why would Xander not have written the kill Teruko Tawaki note to himself? (He probably didn’t based on the handwriting)

If not Teruko’s death, what marker would signal the loop point of the DRDT killing game? Whenever the killing game seems to end?

What motive would XF-Ture Tech have to (presumably) continue the altDRDT killing game after the time loop is broken and Teruko is gone?

Why does altDRDT have NG code bracelets?

I could probably come up with more, but these are all the major questions I could think of at the moment. While not a “question,” per se, another point of contention for some would be that this would make Xander the mastermind of DRDT. It’s not a huge point of contention for me, both because 1) an off-the-wall situation like this is exactly what I think Xander would need to properly capitalize off of any narrative setup he may have for being the mastermind, and 2) @/sentinel-kinjo made a really good point in the replies of my DRDT mastermind post that definitely had me questioning whether I should’ve put Xander (and Charles) higher.

Anyways, despite all this effort– or maybe because of it– I think I personally don’t really believe in the theory that DRDT is part of a time loop. Somewhat like the Arei dress-up theory, I feel like there are too many oddities currently left unanswered for the theory to be actually viable. Unlike the Arei dress-up theory, though, I think that this one has far more potential to become correct via us receiving more information that either fills in some of our plot holes or reroutes the plot to avoid some of the biggest grievances.

The only thing I really like from this theory is that the altDRDT cast is West Class 27, AKA Teruko’s class. That’s gonna be my new personal headcanon until proven otherwise.

I’m not the only one who’s noticed that the DRDT fandom has been feeling a little sleepy (Min reference) lately, so thank you, anon, for helping to keep me cooking on the series during this semi-down period. …Even if it took me, like, two months to actually finish. Thank you for your patience, as well.

And thank you to everyone for reading this far! I think my mastermind theory still wound up being longer than this (although it’s hard to tell with the pictures), but this one is still a doozy. Also, if you have anything to add on or argue against, please share your thoughts in the comments or a reblog! I’d love to hear others’ thoughts, especially given how loosely defined the time loop theory was. Whether you do or don’t, I hope you enjoyed. See you at the next inexplicably long analysis!

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part Four)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Mild Smut

Words: 5,456

Summary:

This plays after Grace’s death but before Tommy becomes a politician. Lizzie is pregnant with Tommy’s child, so it is somewhere around season four.

In this fic, Tommy suffers from episodes of PTSD and so does the reader, resulting from trauma and abuse. They will help and save each other without realising that their connection is much stronger than they could have anticipated.

There will be love, fluff and smut as well as a highly taboo relationship.

PLEASE COMMENT AND ENGAGE!

QUESTION: WHO IS TOMMY TO THE READER? WHOOPS!

YOUR POV

The following day, you again, arrived at the gambling den on time only to find out that Tommy was not there and neither were any of his brothers.

Polly and Michael too were absent from the den that day and the only person who barged in at around 9 o’clock was a woman by the name of Linda.

She was blonde and beautiful, with lovely curls and hypnotic eyes. She appeared stressed however and when you introduced yourself to her, she chuckled.

“I know who you are. My husband told me about you this morning” the woman then said and you queried her.

“Your husband?” you asked, not knowing who she was married to.

“Arthur Shelby. He is my husband and I believe that, last night, you met him, at the state library” Linda explained before sitting down and looking through the betting book.

“Yes, I did. He seemed nice” you acknowledged before thinking back to last night which is when Arthur, who happened to be Tommy’s oldest brother, came to find him. He too was in a panic last night, telling Tommy that he found someone they have been looking for. An acquaintance of some sort and, with that, Tommy had to leave rather abruptly.

Leaving you with his car and the key to the library, Tommy said goodbye without a kiss and it was almost like he did not want his brother to know about the fact that he took a liking in you.

Why this was the case, you did not know but, somehow, it was bothering you. You felt as though he was embarrassed by the way he had met you, in less than ideal circumstances and, the idea of Tommy being ashamed of you, was stuck in your head for the entire night.

You got no sleep whatsoever and needed to know the true nature behind Tommy’s intensions. Why was he so afraid of showing his feelings towards you in front of others? Was this just a game to him? Something to kill his boredom with perhaps?

“Y/N” you then suddenly heard Linda as, clearly, you were daydreaming and thinking too much about last night.

“Yes Linda” you responded almost reluctantly.

“Are you alright taking some bets today? Because we will be on our own until 3 o’clock” she then said and you realised that she must have asked you this very same question just seconds ago to which, clearly, you had failed to respond.

“Yes, I can take bets. You may just need to help me write them down. I am okay with numbers, but complex words are a different story” you admitted to her before asking where everyone was.

“There was an incident last night, near the docks in Camden Town” Linda told you but this did not really answer your question.

“What sort of incident?” you thus asked but Linda shrug her shoulders.

“Business I suppose” Linda said. “My husband never really tells me everything but, what I know is that Tommy was shot last night and this is why he isn’t here today. Lizzie cancelled all of his meetings” Linda explained and your chin dropped while fear began to overwhelm you.

“Oh my god Linda. You need to tell me what happened to Tommy” you demanded, but Linda did not, immediately, answer your question.

“So it is true what Lizzie said. You have taken a liking in Tommy” Linda observed instead. “My oh my, little one. You know you don’t stand a chance, right? Tommy is not a man who is faithful. Despite, he is marrying Lizzie, so…” Linda then went on to say but you did not care and repeated your question.

“Linda, is Tommy okay?” you asked again, to which, finally, you received an answer.

“Yes. He is fine. It is not the first time he got shot and the man who shot him is now laying in a ditch somewhere. My husband made sure of that” Linda told him while you were quick to reach for your coat, causing Linda to ask where you were going.

“I need to see him” you told her, causing Linda to roll her eyes.

“No, you don’t. What you need to do is to help me run this office. Tommy will be just fine” Linda said sternly before making an observation. “You have no idea what Tommy does, do you?” she then asked but the question was a rhetorical one. “He may be my brother in law, but he is not a good man” she furthermore said. “It is because of Tommy that my husband is acting the way he does. He had found God after having been jailed for his crimes, but now he is back carrying our Tommy’s dirty work. It’s appalling and you should stay away from him” Linda finally mentioned to you but this was not all she had to say.

“I know about you. I know about your stepfather too. Tommy is looking for him’” Linda revealed and you gasped momentarily in response.

“What are you talking about?” you wanted to know, seeing that you were not aware of any business Tommy had with your stepfather.

“You think that Tommy chose you out of kindness or love?” Linda chuckled after realising how oblivious you were. “Lizzie is right. You are naïve. Your stepfather has a gambling debt with Shelby Company Limited and went into hiding after using a false identity to steal from Tommy’s family business. Tommy wants to recover the debt and make him pay for stealing from him. This is why he needs you” Linda then told you and it all started to make sense now.

Tommy did not like you. He was using you. This was all you were to him.

“I need to go Linda” you then told her as you were trying hard to hold back your tears. You were feeling betrayed and upset by what Linda had told you and, even though you still could not be sure about Tommy’s true intentions towards you, you were almost certain that you were nothing but a means to an end. 

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tommy Shelby Tag List:

@fastfan

@elenavampire21

@dolllol2405

@allie131313

@cilliansangel

@coldbastille

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@cdej6

@kathrinemelissa

@landlockedmermaid77

@crazymar15

@damedomino  

@lauren-raines-x

@miss-bunny19

@skinny-bitch-juice

@odorinana

@cloudofdisney

@weepingstudentfishhorse

@allexiiisss

@geminiwolves

@letsstarsfalling

@ysmmsy

@chlorrox

@tommyshelbypb

@chocolatehalo

@music-lover911

@desperate-and-broken

@mysticaldeanvoidhorse

@peaky-cillian

@lelestrangerandunusualdeetz

@december16-1991

@captivatedbycillianmurphy

@romanogersendgame

@randomfangirl2718

@missymurphy1985

@peakyscillian

@lilymurphy03

@deefigs

@theflamecrystal

@livinginfantaxy

@rosey1981

@hanster1998

@fairypitou

@zozeebo

@kasaikawa

@littleweirdoalien

@sad-huffle-nerd

@theflamecrystal

@0ghostwriter0

@stylescanbeatmyback

@1-800-peakyblinders

@datewithgianni

@momoneymolife

@mcntsee

@janelongxox

@basiclassy

@chaotic-bean-of-smolness

@margoo0

@vhscillian

@crazymar15

@im-constantly-fangirling

@namelesslosers

@littlewhiterose

@ttzamara

@cilleveryone

@peaky-cillian

@severewobblerlightdragon

@dolllol2405

@pkab

@babaohhhriley

@littleweirdoalien

@alreadybroken-ts

@masteroperator

@stevie75

@shabzy96

@rainbow12346

@obsessedwithfandomsx

@geeksareunique

@laysalespoir

@paigem00

@lkarls

@vamp-army

@luckystarme

@myjumper

@gxorg

@eline-1806

@goldenharrysworld

@cristinagronk16

@stylesofloki

@faatxma

@slut-for-matt-murdock

@tpwkstiles

@myjumper

@cloudofdisney

@look-at-the-soul

@smellyzcat

@kittycatcait219

@theliterarybeldam

@layazul

@lyn07

@kagilmore

@50svibes

@mainstreetlilly

@ourthatgirlabby

@bitchwhytho

@takethee

@registerednursejackie

@sofi128

@mrkdvidal1989

@minxsblog

@heidimoreton

@laylasbunbunny

@laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby

@camilleholland89

@forgottenpeakywriter

@vintagecherryt

@indierockgirrl

@mrkdvidal1989

@bluesongbird

@dudde-44

@gasolinesavages

@kissforvoid

@bluebird592

@1eugenia1isabella1

@esposadomdp

@lulunalua23

@lovelace42

@bookklover23

@iwantmyredvelvetcupcake

@moonmaiden1996

@marlenamallowan

@cyphah (cannot tag)

@majesticcmey

@cleverzonkwombatsludge

@throughgoeshamilton

@alessioayla

@elenavampire21

@justforfiction

@cilliansangel

@alannielaraye (cannot tag)

@satellitelh

@simplyreading96

@idledream​s

@vic-top​

[qveerthe0ry]

Lions Ain't the Kind - Part One

Summary: Frankie hasn't dated in years, but now he knows what he's looking for. He's just not so good at asking for what he wants, and you're willing to help him work on it. Word Count: 8,156 Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, subby!Frankie, soft dom! reader, talks about gender non-conformity, sickening fluff, Frankie is way too cute and sweet for his own good, kissing, making out, handjob (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), dirty talk, Frankie has a praise kink, no use of y/n, no physical descriptions of reader Beta: @perotovar (my angel ilysm) A/N: Sorry for talking about this for a month straight without posting it lol! The title is from the song (Let Me Be Your) Teddy Bear by Elvis Presley which I admittedly haven't listened to but I saw the lyrics and knew immediately it was my Frankie. I hope you enjoy, and I'm always open to criticism and thoughts and thots!

Frankie hasn’t dated in years. He hasn’t really had the time, between his first child being born and navigating co-parenting with his ex, along with healing some very deep trauma and getting and staying clean. 

It just hasn’t been on his mind, if he’s honest. He’s been busy finding himself, as Pope calls it. And he’s not wrong. It’s taken a long while for him to be comfortable in his own skin, to come to terms with the things he’s done and the baggage he can now store in an overhead bin, rather than carry it around with him at all times. 

But now, he’s ready. He knows himself, and as a result, he knows what he’s looking for.

Someone kind-hearted and down to earth. Someone who’s independent and established, but not just looking for a hookup. Someone with a sweet smile and a desire for enjoying the little things in life. 

Someone like you. 

He’d swiped right and left dozens of times on men and women alike, but as soon as he saw your profile on whatever dating app he’d downloaded, he was hooked.

You were gorgeous. He felt the heat from your smile through his phone screen, so happy and genuine and sweet.

You were funny, the answers to those weird icebreaker questions full of witty remarks.

You were smart, clearly, from your shoutout to your alma matter and the ‘boring’ job you mentioned in your profile.

He honestly figured he had no chance at all. His face is only getting more wrinkly, and his hair more gray, and he’s never been the sharpest or funniest guy in the room. 

So when he swiped left and you matched, he was stunned. He was even more shocked when you messaged him before he could even think of what to say to you. 

Hi cutie 🥰 

Despite the fact that he was home alone on his couch, he had the sudden urge to look behind him, as if you’d be talking to someone else. The back of his neck got so warm, and your boldness only made him more into you. 

So he messaged you back

Hi :) how are you?

I’m surprised we matched, honestly. Pleasantly surprised 😊

Same here :) Why the surprise though? I’m sure you match with everyone

Not at all, it’s hard to find people whose type I am on here. I usually use the queer dating apps but I opened this one out of boredom. What are the chances?

What are the chances, indeed, Frankie thinks, as he gives your profile another look over. Frankie doesn’t understand how you aren’t everyone’s type. He feels a little bit like he’s talking to a celebrity, looking at your pictures and just a snippet of who you are on this reductive dating app. 

I like the odds :)

——

As your conversation continues normally over the next few days, Frankie learns a lot about you. He also learns a lot about himself. 

It’s been so long since he’s played the field, so to speak, that he’s rusty as all hell and a bit awkward. He’s afraid to flirt too much, every message deleted and re-written at the risk of sounding too cheesy or too forward or too much. 

You aren’t afraid to flirt. You send ‘good morning, handsome’ and ‘sweet dreams, pretty boy’ texts every day and night. You tell him your day would be better if you could cuddle someone, you tell him when you’re taking a relaxing bath that you wished he were there to join you. 

And to say that Frankie likes it is a massive fucking understatement. 

He adores it, he thinks about you constantly, all day long while he works without access to his phone, all evening long while he waits on your replies, all night long, when you’ve bid each other goodnight out of nothing but courtesy for each other’s sleep schedules.

You lead him along like a timid puppy on a leash, showing him new things with patience and care and it drives him insane. He wants to meet up with you so bad, or even just call you on the phone to hear your voice. He thinks about it, late at night, if it’s higher or lower in register, if it’s smooth or raspy. He wants to learn everything about you. 

That being said, he’s not sure if he’s ever met someone who’s ‘non-binary/gender-fluid’ before. He doesn’t get out much, he hardly talks to anyone who he hasn’t known for years. 

So he googles. It doesn’t really help. He understands what it means, but he doesn’t know what it means to you. He wants to ask you a million questions, but is afraid to bring up even one, and ruin the moment, or sound like an idiot. 

You’re so kind though. So he bites the bullet. 

Can I ask you a question?

Your response comes almost immediately, now that it’s evening time, both finished with dinner— his takeout vs. your leftover spaghetti. 

Of course, pretty boy ❤️

He still flushes deep when you call him that, heat spreading all throughout his face and neck and chest. 

How did you know you were non-binary/ gender-fluid? 

He frets over the text a bunch before he sends it, making sure he worded it the same way you did in your profile. His heart pounds as he waits for your response. 

I’ve always just kind of known I didn’t feel like a man or a woman. I used to think everyone felt somewhere in between, and it was just normal to not feel like I checked either box, but then I realized no one else around me felt the way I did. And then I learned all the terms and whatnot, later on, and knew that’s what I am. Just kinda in between, neither and both, sometimes one and sometimes the other. If that makes sense?

His smile splits his cheeks as he reads your in-depth response, eating up every bit of information you’re willing to give him. 

That makes perfect sense to me. Thank you for sharing :) 

It doesn’t scare you off?

Frankie scoffs, as if anything about you could scare him off. At this point, you could show up on his doorstep with a dead body in a bag, and he’d throw it in his trunk, dispose of it, and then ask if he could maybe kiss you.

Not at all. Nothing about you scares me :)

——

It’s a few more days before Frankie works up the courage to ask for your phone number. You tell him you were wondering when he was going to finally ask for it. It makes him itchy to think about you waiting for him to ask, making him be the one to do it. In a good way. In a way that kind of makes him stiffen up in his briefs if he thinks about it for too long.

But now, as he settles in from a long day at work, his grin splits his face from ear to ear as he reads your text.

Can I take you out tomorrow night?

He likes it… a lot. He feels so fucking new to all this, like a fumbling newborn calf taking its first steps, and how forward you are eases him so thoroughly.

I’d love that :)

Meet me here at 5 for dinner. Casual dress, but I’m sure you’ll be handsome in anything 😘

It’s the longest 22 hours of his life, and it’s the shortest, all at the same time. Texting you, making funny jokes like his bones aren’t about to creep right out from under his skin with all the nerves buzzing his body. Thinking about you, dreaming about you, one right after the other. When he wakes in the morning it’s like he didn’t get a wink of sleep, his anxiety drumming up a million different scenarios of how it could go right and wrong. 

Calling Santi mid-morning on a Saturday when he knows he’s spending time with his family, because if he doesn’t talk to someone about this he may just float off into the ether. 

“I’m so fucking nervous, Pope, what do I do? How do I act? Can you just stake out at the bar and feed me lines through an earpiece?”

“Pendejo, fucking— grow a pair man. You’re cute and funny, you’ve got this.”

Reading your texts with pupils shaped like hearts:

I can’t wait to see you tonight, cutie ❤️

and 

I finally settled on an outfit

and

Is it weird that I’m not even nervous? I’m just excited to finally meet you

It is weird, Frankie thinks, but doesn’t dare tell you. It’s weird how he can’t even eat the plain toast he made for lunch without feeling bile rise in the back of his throat, and you’re just excited. It’s weird how he’s never, ever felt so gone over someone, and you haven’t even met yet. 

It’s not weird, it’s sweet :) I’m excited too &lt;3

It’s not a lie, but he’s omitting the truth a bit. He’s excited but he’s nervous, picking meticulously through his closet to find something casual but not too casual, something he likes the look of himself in, something he thinks you’ll like the look of. 

It only gets worse as he stares at google maps. The restaurant is 2.6 miles away, 11 minutes from his house. It’s 4:30, and he wants to leave already, but thinks maybe it’s better to deal with the anxiety in the comfort of his home rather than the parking lot, in case you’re there early too, and you can see how much of a fucking wreck he is. 

He watches the minutes tick up in the corner of his phone screen. At 4:36, he gets up, fusses in the mirror one last time, and leaves. 

When he parks in the lot in front of the bar & grill, you’ve already texted him. 

I’m here a little early, got all green lights. Saved us a table near the back. See you soon!

It’s 4:52. 

He takes a deep breath through his nose, closes his eyes as he lets it out gently, counting just like his therapist taught him. And again. And one more time, and finally that anxious tingling in his fingertips is muted a bit and his heart rate is only slightly above normal. 

4:54.

He pulls the key from the ignition, gets out of the car, and makes his way to the door. 

He finds you instantly. 

You’re looking at him, and you’re smiling, and getting up from your chair as he approaches you. He barely even hears you greet him with all his blood rushing in his ears. 

“Hi, Frankie,” you say, and your arms stretch out to invite him in for a hug. 

He melts into your arms, his strained “hi” muffled in the crook of your neck. You squeeze him tight to you, and he hears you chuckle next to his ear. 

“Knew you’d be even cuter in person.”

He huffs out a laugh as you release him, and the tips of his ears burn. But you’re smiling so sweetly at him that it eases his nervous bones. 

“You look— can I call you handsome?” 

Fuck, he thinks, so fucking awkward. 

But your grin gets even wider. 

“Only if you mean it.” 

“I do,” he sighs, “like straight out of the cologne ads I’d rip out of my older sister’s magazines.”

He holds his breath as you react, the flutter of your eyelashes and the quivering of your lips and your laugh, bubbly and bright and soothing. 

And he isn’t lying, not even a little. You’re rugged but soft, romantic and alluring, and he can’t take his eyes off you.

Even as you take your seats across from each other, and the waiter comes to take your drink orders, and as your gorgeous eyes flit across the pages of the menu. He can’t stop looking, watching your mouth curve into a smile as you talk about your week and ask him about his. 

It’s pathetic, really, when the waiter asks if you’re ready to order, and you ask if he knows what he wants, because he hasn’t taken a single glance at the menu himself. He just hopes to god the dim lighting of the bar hides his flushed face and tells you to order first while he skims the menu. 

He ends up ordering exactly what you got, and floundering when your hand finds his on the tabletop. He watches your fingers trace his own from his nails to his knuckles, and flips his palm up for you to rest your hand in his. 

“I’m glad you came out with me tonight,” you tell him. 

His eyes flicker up from your joined hands to your smiling face, and his nerves completely melt away from the heat of your gaze. 

“Thank you for asking me,” he says.

“Would you have asked me, if I hadn’t asked you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek, and there’s a teasing glint in your eyes. 

“Eventually,” he nods, “I mean… probably.” 

Your eyebrows turn up in question, and he realizes how that sounds, jumping to backtrack. 

“Not like that! I just mean— You know… You’re uh… well, I feel like you’re way out of my league. And so maybe I’m a little… intimidated.”

You smile, then, and sigh, and squeeze his hand as you call him a sweet boy. It makes the room feel like it’s a hundred degrees warmer, like Frankie’s clothes are suddenly two sizes too small. 

“You aren’t so good at asking for what you want, are you?” 

He laughs then, and shakes his head. 

“Not really, no.”

“We’ll have to work on that, then.”

He clears his throat, and tugs at his collar with his free hand, breaking his gaze away from your face as you chuckle. He looks to find a waiter, or maybe an HVAC guy that could crank the AC to sub-zero temps for the remainder of the date. 

No luck. 

The rest of the date goes well. Surprisingly well. Frankie was worried that he’d be so out of practice that he’d freeze up, or say something stupid, or do something stupid, like knock over a drink or get food stuck in his teeth. 

But you’re just so easy to talk to, to click with. Of course, you’re the one who facilitates the conversation, asking him about his favorites— movies, TV shows, music, time of year. 

But he likes to think that he keeps the ball rolling well enough, is aware enough to remember to ask for some of your favorites— holiday, food, cocktails. 

By the time the check comes, he hardly realizes you’ve both had empty plates in front of you for a while, talking and laughing through your meals like you’re just catching up with an old friend. 

He protests when you grab the check, because of course he does. You’ve given him this incredible night, your comfortable company, your sweet smiles, and he feels like his offerings pale in comparison. 

“I asked you out, Francisco,” you tease him, having just learned his full name a mere 20 minutes ago. 

And he can’t really protest anymore, what with the shiver that’s tingling his spine and the goosebumps he tries to hide by gripping the chair underneath him. So he lets you pay, and thanks the waiter, and feels a rush of sadness when they come back with the check to sign. He really doesn’t want this evening to end. 

The apprehension falls second to the sensation of your hand on the small of his back, leading him out to the parking lot. 

“Where’s your car? I’ll walk you there,” you say, your thumb pressing a soothing circle into the base of his spine. 

So he walks to his truck, a little self-conscious about the out-of-dateness of it, and how he didn’t think to run it through a car wash before this. But mostly he’s just nervous about ending this date on a good note. 

“This is me,” he says, barely above a whisper, stopping at his driver’s side door. 

You smile at him when he turns to you. 

“Thanks again for coming out with me. I really did have a great time.”

This makes him smile through the unease, even as your hand drops from the small of his back. 

“I did too. Would you uh… wanna hang out again soon?”

Your face lights up, and Frankie wants to capture it in a bottle and take it home with him. Keep it at his bedside to use as a nightlight.

“Are you asking me on a date?” 

He chuckles and looks down to his feet like maybe it’ll redirect the flush in his face. You grab his hand, hanging by his side, and luckily you don’t make him speak again because he doesn’t know if he’s even able. 

“I’d love to. Really.” 

He smiles when he looks back up at you, only briefly, because you drop his hand and take a half step back. 

“Call me about it.”

“Wait!”

Your brow arches at him, because you weren’t really going anywhere, but Frankie’s mind is running a thousand miles a second. He thinks back to all the times you’ve goaded him into asking for what he wants, so far, and how it hasn’t bit him in the rear yet. 

“Can we— I… Can I kiss you goodnight?”

Your smile softens, and you take that little half-step back closer to him, and he feels all the tension leak from his shoulders. 

“Yes, you can. Thank you for asking.”

He huffs, and smiles at you, and you’re reaching out to cup his jaw and grab his hip, and Frankie closes his eyes far too early, but it’s okay, because he feels your body heat and then your lips. 

He can’t hold back the hum that rumbles from deep in his chest, or the way that he goes a little boneless in your grasp. He finds your forearm and squeezes it, and your bicep too, anything to ground himself as your lips part and your tongue teases the seam of his lips. 

But then you’re pulling back, and it’s over far too quickly, and Frankie is also acutely aware of how tight his jeans feel. His face feels like it could melt right off of his skull. 

“Call me soon, Pretty Boy.”

He nods, speechless, and watches you disappear between the cars of the parking lot. On his way home, he’s already fretting over whether or not he should text you tonight, and what kind of date he should plan, and if his breath was okay when you let him kiss you. 

——

Frankie is perfect. 

You’re still not sure how you found this diamond in the rough that is Tinder. You thank every god you know the name of that you got bored and opened the app on auto-pilot that night. 

First of all, he’s so cute. He’s handsome in such a boyish way, with his dimples and unruly curls and patchy beard. 

But he’s also so kind, the way he talks to you like it’s a privilege, the way he asks careful and curious questions about you like he truly wants to know the parts of you that are deeper than what’s on the surface. 

Every simple text from him makes you smile, the way he always tries to make you laugh or cheer you up when you’re overwhelmed with the demands of life, as you often are.

And meeting him in person solidified everything you thought about him.

He seems like the textbook definition of a golden retriever boyfriend, if you ever get to call him that much. You hope you do.

In fact, it seems like it’s moving quite quickly in that direction when Frankie asks if you’d be down for a movie night. Some blockbuster he missed in theaters is finally streaming, and he thinks you’ll like it. 

You don’t tell him that you didn’t miss it in theaters, or that you thought it was just okay. 

You do tell him you’d be down to watch it, only if he came to your place, where the walls are thin and your surrounding neighbors all know you and watch out for you. Just in case he’s really good at acting  like a sweet, safe guy. 

You find yourself giddy as the weekend approaches, daydreaming at work about how the night will turn out. You tell him to come in comfy clothes, because you’ll be damned if you wear jeans in your own home, even for this sweet man. He doesn’t seem to mind one bit, that’s my favorite kind of outfit :) is his cute response. 

You get everything ready the day of; your coziest blankets hang off the arms of your sofa, your fridge is stocked with fresh fruits and your pantry with candy and microwave popcorn and chips (I’ll eat whatever you get :) his answer to your questioning of his favorite movie snacks, of course.)

And then you sit around and wait, excited nerves coaxing your body to straighten things up that have been straightened up a million times already. When Frankie texts you his ETA, you park yourself on the couch by the door and stare at it until there’s a knock on it. 

You may count to ten before you get up to open it, just to hide how eager you’ve been to see him again. 

Your throat does get a little dry when you answer it to find him in a dark blue t-shirt that hugs his arms and light gray joggers that hug… Other things. 

“Hi handsome,” you smile, pushing down all the nerves and the less-than-PG thoughts. 

“Hi. I um… I brought these. I noticed you ordered them on our uh– well, at the restaurant, and I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” 

You watch a flush break out on his face, and his neck, and wonder how far under his collar it actually spreads. 

He’s holding up a six pack of your favorite beers, and he’s smiling so shyly, and you have to crowd in closer to him to press a kiss to his heated cheek. 

“That’s so thoughtful, thank you.” 

He giggles— giggles, Jesus Christ— and you take them from his hand to let him come through the door. 

You set the beers in your fridge to let them chill as he kicks off his shoes. You watch him from the kitchen as he takes in your place with his pretty brown eyes. 

“It’s really cozy in here,” he tells you as he fiddles with his own hands. 

“Snuggle up, get comfy, I’ll bring us some snacks.”

He nods, so obedient, and hovers by the couch before settling on the seat in the middle. 

Sly move, you think, and you can’t hide your stupid grin as you gather some snacks. 

When you turn off all but one lamp and deposit the junk food on the coffee table, you notice he’s inched himself closer to the arm of the couch, like he was second-guessing himself. That just won’t do, you think, as you settle in right next to him, so close that the length of your body is pressed against his. 

He doesn’t look at you, just stares at the Roku City scrolling across your flat screen. For a second you think he might be uncomfortable, but the way his breathing is uneven clues you in on his nerves. 

You reach over him to grab the blanket in the arm of the couch, and you feel his muscles tense up when you press against him. 

“Frankie?” 

“Huh? Sorry, yeah?” 

“Are you okay?” 

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head and sighs, heavy and long, before looking at you.

“I’m so nervous.”

He smiles in spite of it, lopsided, dimples so cute that your lips quiver with the urge to kiss them. 

You smile back, and drape the blanket over both of you, patting his leg through it. 

“Nothing to be nervous about, Francisco.”

It gets a laugh out of him, a huff through his nose, and his shoulders lower the tiniest bit. You slowly reach up to cradle his jaw in your palm, careful not to spook this little baby deer of a man, but his face leans into your touch. 

“If it helps, I think it’s really sweet that you’re nervous.” 

“Thank you… I think?”

You laugh at him, and watch as your reaction makes his eyes brighten. You want to kiss him. You want to smooch the absolute daylights out of him, but there’s still 3 hours of a pretentious movie to watch, and there will be plenty of time, if he’s amenable. 

So you just pinch his cheek before you let go, and try not to look so smug at the heat that consumes his face as you get the movie up and running. 

Fifteen or so minutes into the film, Frankie has relaxed into the couch, though he’s stock-still beside you with his arms glued to his own sides. You just want to cuddle, at least. You’ve been thinking about it for weeks— getting his warm, solid but soft body against your own. 

You’re certain he won’t be the one to initiate it, but that’s all fine and dandy. You rearrange yourself a bit, and sling an arm over his shoulders. He looks away from the movie towards you, and you give him a smile that must be comforting. 

He sinks lower on the couch, and leans against you, his messy curls pressed against your shoulder while his arm drapes over your lap. You think you hear his satisfied hum under the dialogue of the characters, and you let your head rest against his. 

This is nice. Frankie’s so warm against you, the most comforting weight all lax against your side. Your hand creeps up from his shoulder to his head, and his hair is so silky when you finally work up the gall to run your fingers through it.

You can feel the way it affects him when he shivers and presses even closer into you. You watch the movie like that for a while, snacks untouched, fingertips stroking his scalp as his soft curls slip through your digits. Every once in a while his head tilts to look up at you, piercing brown, and each time you smile back down and ruffle his hair.

It’s just after the first big conflict of the film when you feel Frankie shift against you. His arm moves in your lap, and you watch his thick fingers grab your thigh over the blanket. 

It shocks you how such a simple gesture makes your temperature rise. You hum and let your nails scratch more firmly against his head. You can hear him gasp, and feel him move impossibly closer, like he’s trying to fuse the two of you together. You glance down at him, past the curls you’ve lost yourself in, and his eyes are closed. Further, the curve of his nose and pout of his lips, his chest that’s heaving with his excited breaths, you notice a suspicious tent in the blanket, and you don’t want to assume, but the context clues are all there. 

Frankie is hard. 

You can’t blame him. You’ve been aroused since you pressed his body against yours, a slow simmering underneath the surface that’s made you feel so comfortably warm and relaxed. 

You shift, and you swear you hear a barely-there whine leave his lips. You move just enough so you can press your free hand to his chest. Under your palm, you can feel his heart beating, a pace that’s concerningly higher than appropriate for sitting and watching dialogue in a movie. 

His head turns toward you, his hair slipping through the grasp of your knuckles. He looks up at you with those puppy eyes and his pupils are so dilated that it makes you take a deep breath. He turns his body  toward you next and there it is the hard line of his cock pressed against the outside of your thigh. You see him shudder at the friction, watch his eyes grow droopy as they flicker down to glance at your lips. 

“Can I kiss you again?” 

And he asks so sweetly, voice a little hoarse from the silence, that you couldn’t dream of denying him. 

“Yes, Frankie.”

His lips tremble until they meet yours, so soft and chaste, a stark contrast to his scruffy beard and mustache. His breath hitches; you can hear it and feel it. His chest shudders under your palm and pushes air out to gust against your cheeks. You feel his prick, too, twitching against your thigh as your tongue peeks out to tease his pouty bottom lip. 

He pulls back so much quicker than you want him to, but it’s also such a reward to look at him this close. His lips shiny, his cheeks flushed, his irises completely usurped by his pupils. His mouth hangs open and you can’t help yourself as you slide your hand from his chest to his jaw and pull him into you once again. 

A surprised little noise works its way out of his throat, and his hips jerk forward, and then he’s groaning as his cock throbs against the outside of your thigh. The noise makes that feeling in your gut draw deeper, lower, and you make one of your own in response. 

His hand rests dutifully still on your thigh, but you can feel his fingers twitching as your taste buds rub against his– a friction that has no right to be as delicious as it is. You want him to feel you up, to touch you all over, to give in to the desire that’s blatantly pressed against you. You want to hear these noises he seems to be holding back, the whimpers that just barely make it past his vocal chords before he cuts them off. 

You pull away this time. Pride swells in your chest as you look at what you’ve already done to him. His curls are even messier now that you’ve run your fingers through them over and over. His eyes are all glassy when he looks at you, pouty lips slick and red. 

He sits so still, aside from his heaving breaths, like he’s waiting for your command. 

“Tell me what you want, Frankie.”

His eyes widen and christ, if they get any wider they’re going to suck you in like a supermassive black hole. 

“I– I’m okay, I like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He nods, trying to convince you, as he not-so-subtly pulls his erection free from its trap between his body and your thigh. His eyes cast downward, but you swiftly grab his chin in your hands to bring them back to you. 

“Francisco,” you mumble, “ask for what you want.”

He gasps and bites his plush bottom lip, hard enough that there’s little indents when he opens his mouth. He shuts it again, and squirms against you, and finally opens it once more. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

His request comes out hardly above a whisper, all broken and breathy, and his gaze settles somewhere behind you. 

“Is that all?”

He nods quickly, eyes snapping back to you. 

“I swear– I just wanna feel your hands on me.” 

Your smile widens as his face gets so serious, eyebrows knitting together. 

“That’s good, that’s really good,” you mumble. 

The shudder that visibly rolls through him is like a shockwave, sending every one of your nerve endings on-edge. You huff, an amazed little breath at this fucking guy in front of you, so responsive and timid and utterly fuckable. 

“You like that? Like being good for me?”

He nods again, more apprehensive this time, but he can’t hold back his whine when his hips press against you. The possibilities of all the things you could do to this man stretch far and wide; it’s entirely overwhelming. 

“Sweet boy,” you whisper, because he is, “c’mere.”

You pull the blanket off of you both, and Frankie reaches down to adjust himself so it isn’t so obvious, like you haven’t felt his cock twitching against you this entire time. It’s so endearing you think you could cry, but you’re much too turned on for sentiment at the moment. Instead, you guide him to straddle you, hands on his slender hips until his thighs cage your own. 

For a moment you just watch as he sits patiently, obediently, waiting for your next words like his cock isn’t leaking a pretty little damp patch into his sweatpants. His chest heaves with every breath, and his tongue licks and bites at his swollen lips, and his eyes stay trained on your mouth in anticipation. 

“So pretty,” you whisper. 

His long eyelashes flutter at your compliment, and he turns his head to try and hide his reaction, but it doesn’t mask the way his prick twitches under gray fabric. Your hands find his waistband and tease the edge and you delight in the way he shivers. 

You need to feel more, so you press your hands under his shirt and hum at what you find. A soft tummy and smooth skin that makes way for a small trail of wiry hairs. It’s all revealed to you a moment later when you hike his shirt higher, reach for pecs that are more solid than you imagined, and the smallest nipples you think you’ve ever had your hands on. 

You look back up to his face for permission with a quirked brow, and he nods eagerly, grabbing the back of his collar to shed the material and bare himself and it’s so lovely. There’s so much tan skin, hardly any of it is obstructed by hair, just the errant freckle here or there. And you can’t help it, you have to lean forward and take one of his nipples into your mouth. 

He gasps your name, but one of his hands finds the back of your head to keep you in place. You hum around the little nub, so small you have trouble getting your teeth to bite down on it, but you do and then he groans, his hips jerking in your hold on them. 

“Is this how you wanted me to touch you?”

You lean your head back to look him in the eyes, to watch a pained expression flit over his face as he tries to come up with an answer he thinks you’ll like. 

“I like this too,” he nods, “but I, um… fuck–”

He cuts himself off to hide his face in his hands. He is so cute and so sexy at the same time, it’s making your brain go haywire. 

“Tell me, Frankie. Be good for me, Pretty Boy.” 

He shifts on top of you as he looks up at your ceiling. You soothe your hands up and down his flanks and wait patiently for him to find the words. 

He drops his hand from his face, fists clenching down by his sides, but he finally looks down at you and smiles, shy and sweet, just a hint of that dimple you adore rearing its head.

“Touch my cock? You got me so hard.”

You smile bright at his request, and nod, and press a kiss to his sternum. 

“Anything you want,” you mumble, “just gotta ask. Just like that.”

He looks pretty proud of himself. There’s a twinkle in his eyes as you look up at him, and you take a playful bite of his skin and savor the gasp it coaxes out of him. 

“Let’s get these off, yeah?” 

Your fingers sneak under his waistband and his skin is so hot under there, searing. You only have a few moments to bask in the warmth before he stands up to remove his pants and briefs in one bashful move. 

Jesus. 

He’s so gorgeous, bare for you, vulnerable, excited. His foreskin is all pulled back, revealing a delicious looking string of pre-cum from his slit. You desperately want to lean forward and taste— but he didn’t ask for that, and you won’t give it to him unless he does. 

Stunned a bit silent, you pat your lap, urging him to settle back over it. Much to your delight, he does, quick and obedient. An approving hum bubbles up out of your chest, and he preens as he sits on your thighs. 

There’s a very wicked feeling in you as you stare at him, completely naked, while you haven’t shed a single layer of clothing. Control, and trust, and power. It’s overwhelming in a way that makes your lungs feel too inflated for your rib cage, to know you could take advantage of it, and to know you never ever would. 

“Good boy,” you whisper, finally, testing those waters. 

Frankie’s dick twitches between you two, and you huff and smile and wonder how something so perfect and precious has literally landed right in your lap. 

He’s been more than good, and so with one hand you grab his hip to steady him, and the other takes his cock as gentle as ever. A sharp inhale inflates his chest as you stroke the smooth skin, a teasing, feather-light touch that makes his legs tense up in your lap. You watch him disappear and reappear through the loose circle of your hand, watch another clear droplet bead from his slit when you squeeze him tighter. 

“Does this feel good?”

He’s watching your hand work when you look back up to his face. He nods, a jerky movement that seems to shake his entire body, and he’s so on-edge. You feel it in the way he shifts his weight on top of you. 

“Words, Frankie,” you urge, a soft smile on your face. 

“So good.”

You hum, taking in the way his eyes flutter open and closed, the way his adam’s apple pokes out when he leans his head back. 

You reward him by speeding up your strokes. You squeeze his hip with your free hand, kneading at the soft flesh there, while you lean forward to press kisses into his virtually hairless chest. His skin is so hot it feels like it could burn you, flushed such a pretty color, just like you knew it would be. 

He whines when you gather up more pre cum with your thumb and gently massage it into his frenulum. You look up to find him staring down at you with glassy eyes, bottom lip tucked tight between his teeth. 

“Can we kiss more?”

His voice is breathy, and you nod, and a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your system when his lips eagerly meet yours. 

It’s sloppier, this time. Noisier, too, as you tighten your grip on his cock and begin to properly work your hand up and down his length. You steal his breath and his noises straight from his lungs, feel every shudder he pushes out when you twist your wrist just right or squeeze tighter. 

His hips start to meet your thrusts, rutting into your hand, such a desperate little thing on top of you, all for you. You want to encourage him to take his pleasure from you, and so you slip your hand back from his waist, find the perfectly pert globe of his ass with your palm. 

“Haa— shit.”

His words muffle into your kiss as his hips stutter in rhythm and you lean forward to smirk into the bald patch of his beard. 

“Yeah?” 

A gasp wrecks through his heaving chest as he nods. 

“Please, fuck— please.”

You hum into his jaw and squeeze his cock and his ass respectively. 

“Please what, Pretty Boy?” 

He leans back. You watch him squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head from left to right. 

“Tell me what you want, Frankie. Know you can.” 

A big gulp of air, and then he opens his eyes to look at you, then blinks them shut again as his head lolls back in his shoulders. 

“Touch me there. I— I can’t—”

“Shhh,” you take mercy on him, bringing your hand up from his backside to cradle his jaw in your palm. He tilts his head into your touch and opens his eyes.

“I got you, sweet boy,” you remind him. 

He nods in understanding, shifting to kiss the heel of your palm. You let him rest his lips there as he catches his breath, feel them quivering every other upstroke of your hand on his prick. 

But as he makes to move, you hold his jaw steady in your hand. His eyes flicker back to your face, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, if he can tell how beside yourself you really are. 

Slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, you trace the pad of your middle finger along the seam of his lips. You’re awestruck at how they instantly fall open for you, greedy, something you’re definitely looking forward to exploring more later. 

For now, you watch with hooded eyes as he takes it into his mouth, tongue curling and lapping at it. You briefly wonder if fingers are erogenous zones, beyond turned on at how warm and wet the inside of his mouth feels, how he suckles and releases, bobs his head over and over until you snap out of it. 

“Good boy. Fucking perfect,” you sigh.

He gets a cocky little goofy grin on his face at the praise, but his prick twitches against your grasp. You squeeze it for good measure, and more of his pre-cum dribbles over your knuckles. 

You lean into him again, and he leans into you, holding each other up. Your mouth finds his pebbled nipple once again as his prick drags across your shirt and saturates it. He hisses at the friction, then gasps when your hand grabs his ass cheek again. 

You pull it as best as you can with one hand. It isn’t too difficult with how it fits so perfectly round in your palm. You squeeze it, massage it, note how the littlest hint of peach fuzz feels against your clammy hand. You wonder how it would feel under your tongue, too, how it would taste, how the fatty flesh would feel between your teeth. 

His hips stutter forward when your finger, slick with his saliva, strokes the very top of his crack. And you don’t mean to tease too much, but his jerky movements and satisfied sounds when you do are like music to your ears. 

Finally you find his hole, fluttering around nothing, so little and tight, all for you. 

“Ohmygod.”

Frankie sounds pained, so much so that you look up from nuzzling his chest to watch his face. His brows are drawn tight with how his eyes are squeezed shut, and his mouth is hung open, slick with a little drool around the corners of his lips. Without context, maybe he would look pained, too, but the way his cock throbs and dribbles in your hand paints a completely different picture. 

And what a pretty picture he is, gulping for air above you, thrusting his hips back into your finger and forward through your fist, like he’s so out of his mind that he can’t even make it up. 

You apply more pressure to his impossibly tight pucker and sink your teeth into his skin at the way he whines for you. You do it again, and again, a patient little rhythm until it relaxes and the very tip of your finger slips into his warmth. 

He groans, clenching tight around you. 

“Okay, Frankie?”

He laughs, a little puff of air, and you feel it where you’re inside him. 

“Gonna make me come,” he chokes.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, don’t— fuck— please don’t stop.”

You hum into his chest, squeeze your hand tighter around his prick as you speed up your strokes. He’s groaning now, deep and low and constant, like he couldn’t hold it back if he tried. 

You wiggle your finger against his rim, tugging him open for you, toying with the elastic muscle. He’s so pliable everywhere, opening up to you, happily taking what you give him. 

In a stiff moment you think he isn’t into it, because he freezes up and goes silent. You make to slip out of him, but his warmth just drags you in.

And then his cock jumps in your grasp, and his hole clamps around your finger as he gasps your name, and he’s coming. 

He shakes with it as he soaks your shirt and drips over your hand. You stroke him through it and marvel at the way he feels in your grasp and around you, violent waves of pleasure that you can sense where you touch him. 

You look up to watch him tremble through it and he’s gorgeous. Sweat drips from his messy curls at his temple and paints a glimmer down his neck, all pulled taught as his head hangs back. His chest tastes salty under your tongue where it heaves, you can’t get enough of the flavor, or the wicked beating of his heart under your lips. 

And his noises, fucking delicious, wrung-out curses that just keep tumbling from his red lips. His stomach trembles with his shaky breaths, and he sounds so wrecked as the last bit of his orgasm tricked down the back of your hand. 

His whispered chants of “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” slow to a stop just as his joints unlock and his muscles relax. You take it as a sign to loosen your grip on his spent cock and carefully slip your finger back out of him. It earns you one last whimper before he sags into you, a boneless little heap in your lap. 

You unhand him to hold him against you, wipe your hand on the discarded blanket beside you so you can stroke his back with one hand and his fuzzy little buttcheek with the other. 

You tell him how good he was for you, how pretty he is when he comes, how much you loved getting to do that to him. 

It takes a while for him to catch his breath, and his huffs tickle that sensitive spot on your neck just below your ear. 

“Holy shit,” he sighs. 

You nod, because he’s correct. Holy shit, indeed. 

His voice is a little hoarse, and you’re conflicted. You want to hold him as long as he’ll let you, but you know you should get him some water and at least a towel. 

You shift under him and he whimpers, wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders.

There goes that idea. 

You hold him closer, and smirk at the contented sigh that leaves him. 

“I think… I think I just imprinted on you.” 

It startles a laugh out of you, and he chuckles too, a tiny happy sound against your collar bone. You turn to kiss his heated cheek, and he lets you, before he turns his own head to fuse his lips to yours. 

This kiss is lazy, unhurried, and the adrenaline from making him fall apart is slowly making way for more of that sticky-sweet arousal from earlier. 

“I wanna make you come,” he mumbles against your lips. 

You shake your head, but kiss him some more, as to not give him the wrong idea. 

“Another night, Pretty Boy.”

He makes a disappointed sound, but continues to kiss you until you have to part for air. His brow is turned upward in question when you pull away. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

You’re shaking your head before he even finishes his question. 

“Not a single thing, Frankie. Just wanted to take care of you tonight.” 

His shoulders relax at that, but his face is still confused. It’s a cute look on him, with his pouty lips and big brown eyes. 

“You’d tell me right? If I made you uncomfortable? You can tell me. I don’t wanna upset you.” 

And christ, you feel your heart melting and oozing through your rib cage at how earnest his voice is. 

“I promise, I’ll tell you.”

That seems to quell his nerves, as he sinks back into you again with his sweaty curls pressed against your shoulder. 

You’re sticky in more ways than one, and Frankie’s only getting heavier in your lap the sleepier he gets, but a giggle bubbles up out of you when you realize you’ve never been more comfortable than you are right now. 

Frankie huffs in response, and you press him even tighter against you. 

You don’t know where one-and-a-half dates and one sickeningly hot orgasm places the two of you. And maybe it’s greedy to think about with a handsome, sweet man in your arms, but you can’t push down the overwhelming feeling of wanting more.

next part

[duchess-kyuupid]

Can you do one where the twst boys are walking with Fem!reader to class or something and reader trips but instead of getting up they just lie there contemplating life and acting like everything is falling apart but they as just being dramatic for the hell of it-

Crack and fluff basically lol

It doesn't matter who just whoever you like writing the most! Thank you ❤️

Of course! I'm going to do three characters who I thought would fit the scenario the best <3 Thank you for being my first request dearie!

Ik it says fem!reader, but I didn't use any pronouns or anything so it can be read as gender neutral :)

~ Twst Men with an overdramatic Reader Falling Down~

[Ft. Rook, Idia, and Sebek]

Rook

- In a moment of weakness on your part, you had asked Rook to help tutor you in the basics of etiquette in this world. Namely, you were just curious about the differences between your world and theirs- for example you mentioned once in a passing comment that it was common curtesy to open doors for people, even strangers, if they were going to be coming in after you. You've even done so when you were walking into class with some people behind you, but all that resulted in was weird looks from your classmates. And not even a thank you! And I mean, it's not like you were expecting to get a thank you, but at the very least, those people could try acting a little more polite! You recounted this story to Rook and he laughed, saying that such a courtesy is not only seen as a lowly servant's job, but it's also the fact that everyone at NRC are mages, so most people will just open the door with magic. - Anyway, so that's how you ended up here, receiving a lecture from Rook about etiquette and the importance of being elegant and beautiful- even more than you already are, at least. - You've been here for hours now, and your initial curiosity has basically evaporated into boredom with a strong longing to just go back to Ramshackle and relax. But you knew there was no way you were going to be able to escape, not with a hunter like Rook keeping his eyes on you like a hawk. - "Ah, mon coeur, it appears as though you've stopped listening! Non, non, mon beauté, this simply mustn't do! Why don't we practice something a little bit more engaging? Some dance lessons shall do just fine, allez!" - And then suddenly you were dragged out of your comfy chair as Rook leads you to the middle of the room to start his lesson with you. He's clearly been enjoying this, with the big smile that hasn't left his face since you've walked in. - So, despite how tired you feel, you accept his proposal to dance. I mean, how could you say no to his face which smiles so brightly that it puts even the sun to shame? - But of course, you also didn't really have the heart to tell Rook that you've never danced before- at least not like this. This formal type of dancing, with Rook's hand settled on your waist and gently holding your other as you two sway to the non-existent music- you don't have very much experience with it, not at all. - So it was only natural that you got stuck staring at Rook's face, again not paying attention to the words that he was speaking about how to waltz elegantly. Your body followed his movements and words on instinct, like you were stuck in a trace just so that you could focus on the one thing that was most important right now: him. - Alas, all good things must come to an end. While you were busy shamelessly staring at Rook as he led your dance, you tripped over your feet and landed face first on the floor. ....Why are we here, just to suffer? - You made no movements to get up, if only to hide the embarrassment ridden on your face. - "Rook, I think this is the end for me...Tell my wife I love her," you made a fake coughing noise, "And delete my search history." - God, how did you even get here? Falling to the floor is literally the last thing you want your crush to see you doing, and yet here you were- your only salvation is to joke about it and hope that Rook doesn't think of you any less for your terrible dancing skills. - But as you were wallowing, Rook simply smiles and picks you up off of the floor with a chuckle. You stare at him in surprise at his strength, as he literally just treated you as if you were as light as a stick. -"Oh là, là, mon beauté! Your dancing skills are truly magnifique! Especially for a first time, I must say you glided through the floor like you were the epitome of dance!" He says as he inspects you for any injuries, making sure to dust off and straighten your clothes in the process. "Vraiment élégante! S'il te plaît, mon coeur, dance with me again!" - Honestly, if your face could get any redder, it would. This man is going to kill you one day if you don't get your pounding heart under control.

Idia

- It was one of those rare days in which Idia was forced to go to class in person, and the two of you were literally watching the clock and counting down the time for the lunch bell to ring. - As it so happens, there was a new, special event that was only going to go live for 24 hours, but the gacha pool only had a limited amount of units that were going to be released per server. - If you two didn't hurry, then everyone else was going to snag this thing and you two would be left with nothing! Nothing but crushed hopes and dreams after months of saving specifically for this day. - Of course, Idia lost his chance to get it in class when Professor took his phone and chewed him out for using it during his lecture, and you didn't have the game downloaded on your phone yet (you really only played it when you were hanging out with Idia in his dorm room, after all). But you were both determined to get it. - When the clock strikes 12, the two of you were going to bolt out of there and make a break for his dorm room to hopefully make it in time. Idia would have to get his phone back later, right now the surest bet would be at his dorm, where he keeps several different computers so that you can try to get the thing too. - 11:58.....11:59.... 12:00!!! - The bell rings and the race to his room begins! - Alas, neither of you could really straight up run there, because if you got stopped by a hall monitor or a teacher, then that would be the end. So you two decided that the best way to go about it was to speed-walk there. - Oh, but you had almost forgotten about how enormously tall Idia is. His version of a "speed-walk" is basically your sprinting pace. You'd never notice because most of the time he's slouching, but this man stands at (183 cm/6'), and his legs are just so ridiculously long that you couldn't help but to fall behind simply because you weren't running. - And Idia notices this too, so in an attempt to help you, he decides to pinch at a loose piece of your clothing (this was already going out of his comfort zone, so don't expect him to just outright initiate physical contact without asking) and drag you forward to meet his pace. - Unfortunately, he failed to think his plan entirely through, as his grip on your clothes were not very tight and you were not expecting to be dragged like that. To make matters worse, the halls were also getting crowded as people were making their way to the cafeteria. - Long story short, Idia lost his grip, and you tripped over, getting lost within the crowd of people at the same time. Idia stops to look behind him in surprise to see you getting swallowed into the mob with a terror-stricken face. - "Go, Idia! This is your chance!" you cry out with fake tears escaping your eyes, "You're gonna have to leave me behind, but don't worry, I'll catch up with you. I won't die here...." You give him a tearful thumbs up as the surrounding students calmly walk around you. - He salutes you with tears in his own eyes, "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." And he turns around to start full-on sprinting towards his destination. - And you stay there on the floor for another second before chuckling when you come to a certain realization: - "I have now both literally and figuratively fallen for him now, haven't I?"

Sebek

- Sebek, being the gentleman that he is, has decided to walk you back to Ramshackle after learning about Malleus' fondness towards the human who calls him 'Hornton.' - Of course, this has become a regular occurrence for the two of you now. Sebek still walks with you under the guise of making sure that you're not a threat to Malleus, but that's only because he doesn't know how to admit that he's become fond of you too. - The two of you were joking around, generally enjoying each other's company on your walk back home, when all of a sudden you find yourself falling to the ground. - You honestly have no idea what had happened to get you here, but what you do know is that following the few seconds after, Sebek is already yelling at the top of his lungs and interrogating the surrounding students who were unlucky enough to have seen you fall over. - "YOU! DID YOU TRIP THEM ON PURPOSE?" - So you just stayed on the floor, pitying the poor people he began to yell at for basically no reason as you began debating with yourself on the purpose of life. - For the most part though, you were just waiting to see how long it would take Sebek to stop for a moment to realize that you were still on the floor. - Ironically enough, it was when he started interrogating some other people when the ones who he just chewed out came over to you to ask if you were alright and if you needed help standing back up. - "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SO CLOSE TO THEM?? BACK AWAY THIS INSTANT, HUMAN!" Sebek yells (when is he not yelling?), this time actually scaring off the people he was just accusing of tripping you. - "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" - "No, I think I must've broken my back falling for you." - "I'LL TAKE YOU TO THE INFIRMARY THIS INSTANT, AND THE ONES WHO DID THIS WILL NOT GET OFF LIGHTLY!" and just like that, your pick-up line is ignored as Sebek picks you up and begins to run over to the infirmary. Literally the only thing that you could think of now is the fact that, even if you weren't joking and you had actually broken your back, Sebek would probably have made it worse because this is definitely not the correct way to carry someone who's broken their back. In fact, you think, I don't think you're even supposed to pick them up in the first place. - Well, you wanted to tell Sebek that you were fine, that you were just messing with him when you said that. But at the same time, you kinda liked the feeling of having Sebek carrying you like this. It was rather comfy. - "Sebek, I have a first aid kit at Ramshackle that has some things that could help. It's closer than the infirmary, so let's just go there," you say, adjusting yourself so that you were more comfortable leaning against him. - He looks down at you and notices your peaceful-looking face- a face that does not say "help me I've just broken my back and I am in immense pain," and he finally takes a moment to think back on what you said earlier when he asked if you were alright. - With a dramatic gasp, his face flushes pink as he realizes what you had actually meant to say, and in his surprise, he accidentally lets you go too. - "Hey! Was that really necessary?" you pout as you fall to the ground, again, for the second time today. You look up from the ground to see his flustered face and you catch on that he finally figured out what you told him earlier. - "Sorry! You just caught me by surprise," Sebek states, his voice sounding quite meek in comparison to how it was earlier. - "You're going to have to make it up to me for dropping me like that, you know," you say, standing up and dusting yourself off lightly, "And my price is that you carry me back the rest of the way. That's the only way to make things even." - With a flushed face, Sebek nods and picks you up again, this time he became much more aware of how close he was holding you, but he noticed that, strangely enough, he didn't have any problems with it.

Just thinking about how many seagulls it would take to drown out the sound of Sebek's voice lol I'm thinking around 78, honestly

~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for being a little late with your ask! I was hoping to post this for Valentine's day but then work and college decided to drag me through the mud for a bit </3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

[fipindustries]

HRT and sex talk! feel free to ignore if that is not your jam

for whatever reason my hormones are not being as effective as they used to, which means that a lot of my male characteristics are coming back. chief amongst them is my male libido.

i wrote extensively about this phenomena in the past but i want to take a chance to kvetch about it yet again.

the pros is that masturbating feels like it hits... stronger. there is a certain feral high to male horniness. orgasms feel more like he final period, the last word. once you cum the matter is decidedly settled. it has a faster and higher peak. porn, drawn porn, feels more tittilating, fapping is easier. the whole process is more streamlined and hits more clearly and focused. also boners dont hurt as much any more.

that is about it for the pros. they are nice and i have been taking advantage of them now that i have the chance.

now come the cons.

male libido fucking sucks. it fucking sucks dick and balls and i fucking hate it, holy fucking shit.

ive likened to having an adiction in the past and the comparission holds stronger than ever. now your day is circumscribed by masturbation time and by how much time until next masturbation. it is a constant buzz in between your legs and the back of your head. any moment of boredom or inactivity is a moment that could be dedicated to that. to make matters worse, my dick is on a fucking hair trigger. is like im on a semi permanent half chub. i used to be able to enjoy and appreciate porn in a very intellectual way. it was tittillating for sure, it fulfilled a prurient interest, but mainly i enjoyed the artistry of it, i enjoyed the concept presented. now seeing porn online is like getting a poke from a really annoying mosquito that makes me want to scratch the subsequent itch.

and the real kick in the nuts here is that masturbating is now grosser. i cum more, it smells worse, it gets all sticky, i feel sweatier and slimier afterwards, and the dick feels all swollen and sore. the result of all this is that now im much more aware of my penis in a way that i really rather not be. when i go outside i cant help but feel that is really noticeable, more than usual. im terrified that there might be stains or that people might be able to smell something or whatever.

is just a fucking hassle, i dont want my mind to be 10% on sex at all times, i dont want to feel all sticky and smelly, i dont want to even be aware my dick exists most of the time. this truly was one of the hidden blessings of HRT i hadnt anticipated way back when i first started transitioning. i cant believe i lived like this for 25 years, i really dont understand how i did it. i cannot understand how men deal with this all the time, what are you guys doing? are you ok? you need help??? how can you live like this????.

honestly it doesnt feel like dysphoria, i dont feel gross in a metaphisical sense or like this challenges my identity or my conception of self or like it invalidates my gender or like it makes me dissociate from my body. is just a stupid pain in the ass, is like being with constant allergies and your nose was perpetually runny and you were oozing snot and slightly teary eyed and had to be constantly blowing your nose. it just sucks.

im going to talk to my doctor about increasing my dosis and probably get a fucking orchiectomy, yeah masturbation and orgasms dont feel as good but at least i can live my life like a functional human and focus on the things that really matter