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bluebellhairpin · 10 months ago

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Katsuki Bakugou X Secretary!Reader

Summary: Working as the secretary to the famous designer Katsuki Bakugou hasn't been easy - however you find out you have it easier than most. Soon after that, you find out why.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Power Dynamic (VERY inappropriate boss/employee relationship). Swearing. Smidge of making-out. Bakugou probably gives off manipulative yandere vibes. Reader; wears a skirt, is called 'baby', otherwise is g/n (unless I've missed something T-T).

Listening to: 'Donatella' by Lady Gaga - "I wanna dress you up in silk taffeta, tailor these clothes to fit your guilt, what's your size?"

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Art inspired by the fic

The Bakugou brand was known all over the world. From Gucci to Balenciaga, Bakugou was a name everyone in the fashion industry respected - and when it came to the man behind it all, it was also a name to be feared.

Katsuki Bakugou, with his grown wealth, fame, and the power that went with them, was practically a god on earth.

You were the one lucky (or pitied) person chosen to work closely with him. A secretarial assistant job to none other than the man himself was a job so many people would die for. It was also a job many before you had almost died while enduring. No one had lasted longer than a year. It barely took a week for you to figure out why.

Katsuki wasn’t just a diva, or a bitch (although he certainly was those things too) - he was the devil in Christopher Goodyear Welt’s.

By three months working under the blond tyrant, you had decided your life could be worse. You weren’t sure why all his previous assistants weren’t able to handle it - not until you walked into work this morning.

Katsuki was already in his office - a situation you hadn’t come across yet since he had a strict nine-to-five schedule he adored - and was practically roaring at someone down the receiver of his landline. He had a temper on him, sure - he was as famous for it as he was for his designs - but you’d yet to see him quite this angry before.

“You wouldn’t know corduroy if you spent your nine months in the womb with it!” you heard as you set your bag aside and hooked your coat up. “Get me Eijirou you shitty prick!”

You settled at your desk, eying his shadow through the frosted glass as he paced back and forth as you powered on your computer. Your eyes flickered down to the phone on your desk - if you picked it up you’d be able to hear the person on the other end - however if Katsuki caught you eavesdropping more than you already where (not that you had much of a choice right now) you would be in a whole new world of trouble.

“Put me on hold, I dare you.” Was the final thing Katsuki said before slamming the phone back down. It became eerily quiet. You barely dared to breathe.

Hearing his footfalls softly stalk across the carpet of his office, you tucked your head down and opened a random email to look busy.

“Where the fuck have you been all morning?” Your eyes rose to meet his vermilion ones. He had on that black button down that made his shoulders seem extra wide. For a moment words failed you - but you kicked your brain into gear quickly.

“Sir, it’s only eight thirty?”

“I’ve needed you here since six.” he said, leaning forward with a hand sprawled across your desk, looming over you in a way you had become quite accustomed to, and sending a dizzying waft of his cologne in your direction.

“I was very unaware of that,” you said, almost apologizing, but then thinking otherwise. You had been learning quickly the things Katsuki liked people saying, and the things he liked less so. “What can I do now?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing. You’re useless now.” he leant back, waving you off and sighing. “I need a coffee.” he said, turning on his heel back into the office.

“Useless my ass - who else gets you coffee?” you mumbled, quickly clicking through the email so you didn’t forget to later. Katsuki could be an absolute bitch, but at least he hadn’t yelled at you specifically - yet.

The little kitchenette across from your desk made coffee runs very easy - the only issue was that it still took a while. No instant or pod coffee’s for the great Katsuki.

Ten minutes later and you were pushing the door to Katsuki’s office open with one hand full of cayenne pepper infused coffee, and the other holding the latest Vogue magazine that had just been dropped at your desk.

You wordlessly placed the coffee on a coaster, and the magazine went from the table into his hands before you could even put it on the table. He likewise silently started flicking through the pages - but you had things to talk about.

“What was the issue this morning?” You asked, straight to the point. He didn’t look up at you when he answered, instead stayed focused on the pages as he fingered through them.

“Some extra who can’t get his head out of the twentieth century.” He said, taking a large mouthful of his drink. If he liked it he’d say nothing - often the only time he gave his opinion on things was when he didn’t like something. “He won’t call back.”

“They always do.” You said, standing firm until you had the answers you sought - coming back to ask the same thing twice was such a hassle for the both of you. “I’d appreciate knowing what to say when he does.”

“I don’t care,” he said, flicking the magazine down in exasperation to look up at you with a heatless scowl. “If it’s Eijirou you can patch him through, everyone else is a complete waste of time.”

Your eyebrows raised in something akin to surrender as your hands smoothed down the fabric of your skirt.

“Don’t forget your meeting with the seamstresses after lunch.” You said, then left to return to answering your emails and phone calls.

You always took your lunches with Hanta - a seamster two floors below Katsuki’s office. You found him extremely chill after having to deal with your whirlwind of a boss. He was like your lifeline - better yet, he could keep secrets like it was nobody’s business.

“I walked in this morning and I swear the glass for the whole floor was rattling.” you said, looking down into your cup of canteen-supplied orange juice. “If I wasn’t so sure he wasn’t going to hurt me I’d probably quit.”

“You know I’m like ninety percent sure you’re his favorite.” Hanta said. Your eyes shot up to his, but he wasn’t looking at you.

“I doubt that would be hard,” you said slowly, “His past secretaries sounded super incompetent for a job this fast-paced.”

“No, not just a secretary, but a person. I think your his favorite person in the whole world.” he said, tucking a stray hair behind his ear. “He can scream at me, hell he’s thrown punches at Kirishima, and he’s Kirishima - you though? He acts like you’re porcelain.”

You felt your face scrunch up into a frown, and a huge smile cracked over Hanta’s face. “I can see why he likes you - you look just as scary as him when you make that face.”

“Hanta Sero, you take that back!” You said, voice almost too shrill besides the hum of the lunchtime cafeteria rush.

“I will do no such thing,” he said, leaning back in his chair, and crossing his arms and legs in a slow, cat-like manner. “I think it’s hilarious. Needed something new to tease you over anyway.”

“I am simply going to ignore you then.” you said. You felt your face scrunch even more, before you took a deep breath to relax. “You don’t deserve my attention right now anyway.”

Hanta huffed a laugh, leaning forward on his elbows. “I think we both know who really wants your attention, and I’m not going to be the person to fight him for it.”

Katsuki’s afternoon meeting had gone smoothly - you thought that it must mean some catastrophic hurricane was due later that afternoon. Or maybe you’d get hit by a car on the way home. Either way, the pleasant meeting meant Katsuki was either in a really good mood - or a really bad one.

On his way back into his office, he threw an order to call Eijirou at you over his shoulder, before throwing the doors open and entering his office.

“It’s important.” he said, and that was where the conversation ended. When you dialed the number only to be met with the receptionist - not even patched through to Eijirou’s assistant Denki - you practically rolled your eyes.

“I’ve got Marcel!” Silence was the stern reply. You’d spoken to him a few times - not the nicest guy in the world, so in your opinion Katsuki’s hatred of the man was valid/ You didn’t want to speak with him either, so you hung up.

Then there was a call of your name.

“Come here!” You sighed, but obeyed and walked around your desk and into Katsuki’s office. You were met with a sight that wasn’t foreign to you - but it made your heart stutter all the same. He was leant back in his chair, a large drawing pad against his folded knee, and a pencil pressed into his cheek. He was watching you closely as you walked in, red eyes partially covered by a set of half-rimmed reading glasses.

Your boss was mean, but his looks could make the devil cry.

“I am… Promoting you.” he said. You felt your mouth fall open in shock.

“I - Sir, I don’t -”

“Katsuki.” he said, voice now as hard as his stare. “No more ‘Sir’. You call me by my name. Understand?”

“Okay…” you said, voice breathless as joy swirled in your chest (finally, your hard work and patience had paid off!), “Katsuki.”

At the sound of you saying his name, he declined further back in his seat, and smiled - wide and showing off both canines.

“That’s much better,” he said, as if he’d been waiting for the change of title formalities, “Now sit down, we have a lot to talk about.”

You went to sit at the chair in front of his desk but he shook his head, almost jumping to his feet like he’d had hot coffee spilled on his lap. His suddenness had you freezing.

“No no, not there,” he said, waving the chair away with disgust, “Over there.” He pointed over to the chaise as if it was the most obvious place in the room to sit, then sat back in his own chair again.

Turning, you took a tentative seat on the sofa, and looked across at him expectantly with your tongue between your teeth. His pencil had found a new home on the open page of his sketchbook, and you quickly realized he was going to be multitasking this impromptu meeting. However he was making little to no effort at starting this ‘talk’ he seemed so urgent to begin only moments ago.

“So is there anything else to this promotion besides being able to call you ‘Katsuki’, or is that it?” you asked. His eyes flicked up at you, pencil stopped, and the side of his mouth quirked up, before his expressions changed completely to one of disapproval again.

“There’s more.” he said. You could see how tempted he was to not say more, if only to push your patience and see just how far it went. “You probably should know about it, considering just how personal things are going to get around here.”

You felt your heart beat pick up as he stood to stalk around the desk.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to need to find a new you, let's start with that.” he said, and pushed your shoulder back with the eraser end of the pencil. You fell back against the couch, and the pencil moved to guide one arm across the back of the chair - then crossed one leg over the other - then moved your other hand on top of your knee. Before you knew it you had been moved to pose like a sketching doll.

Katsuki gave you a once over, looking very pleased with himself (or how easy you were to manipulate), then walked back over to his desk. The pencil started again.

“You want a new secretary?” You finally heard yourself ask, voice coming out far too weak for your liking.

“More like you need an assistant.” he said, attention clearly divided between whatever he was designing, and your conversation, “Your schedule is going to be a lot busier as of now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked again. His head shook.

“If you ask that question again I’m going to have this conversation with you some other time.”

“You do know how badly you’re explaining this ‘promotion’, right?” you asked, voice coming out a little harsher than you knew was appropriate. But being proper can be damned, you wanted answers.

He just looked at you for a long moment with a knowing, albeit smug, smile. The sketchpad was dumped on his desk, pencil and glasses dropped on top.

“I’ve been hit with a new wave of ideas.” he said, “They’re amazing. New. Iconic. These designs fly off magazine racks and clothing store hangers like nothing else before. I couldn’t tell where the inspiration came from, not until I thought of when it all started, and the only thing notable about that was you starting to work for me.”

As he explained he stood slowly, came to stand before you again, now with the side of his leg pressed to your knees. Katsuki’s hand rose, and the backs of his fingers trailed across your cheek in a manner that was almost too soft, and too shy, to be an action coming from the harsh man before you.

“I need you with me, everywhere, from now on.” he said, voice low, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “I need you with me, and I don’t know how else to make sure of it besides making it your job.”

“Everywhere?”

“Of course, what use is an artist without their muse?” You had to admit, that forked tongue of his was making your knees weaker by the second. Was he truly saying you inspired him?

“You couldn’t have just asked?”

“I don’t need to ask,” his hand came down to grip your chin, thumb momentarily pressing on your bottom lip, “I get what I want.” Where his voice was getting stronger by the second, yours was sounding even weaker.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to?” Katsuki asked, hand slightly releasing pressure on your chin - as if shocked at the thought of someone willing, and unafraid in telling him no. “Everyone wants to. Don’t you?”

“No,” you said quietly, completely letting your heart take over, no matter what could happen after. “I do want to.” His face broke out into that same wolfish grin as before - his hand snuck around to the hair at the base of your neck and found a firm home there.

“Then why not get paid for it while you do.” he said, an air of finality about the matter, and then leant down to capture your mouth in a searing, hard kiss. Hard enough that you could almost feel his teeth and jawbone trying to meld into yours - searing enough that you could feel heat swelling in your stomach and knees at how fierce and needy it all was. It took your breath away completely.

After a few long moments - long enough to have your eyes fluttering closed and your lungs burning - he pulled away.

Katsuki didn’t even look at you as he walked away, acting as if what he just did was a casual kiss on the cheek - while you were left feeling flushed on the sofa. Only once he sat down again with his sketchpad and glasses on did he look up at you. He licked his lips, as if making sure to taste whatever of you was left. His smile this time was very smug indeed.

“See baby, now you look perfect.” he said, then went back to drawing.

“What?” you asked, still breathless with your nails digging into the fabric of your seat.

“The lighting in here is foul, absolutely horrendous.” He said, “You needed a glow about you. Now you’re all flustered. it's perfect. With you finally in front of me, these designs are going to be breathtaking - just imagining them on you -” he looked up at you, quite suddenly stopping his train of thought, before wordlessly returning to his sketch.

From the way your heart felt like it was going to beat right up and out your throat you guessed he accidentally said too much. Had been too sentimental. Maybe Hanta was right - perhaps you were his favorite person.

You took a deep breath and stood to leave - only to be stopped.

“Where are you going?” Katsuki asked, voice almost a bark. “I need you here - you can’t leave now that I have you right where I need you!”

“I need water.” you replied, awkwardly pointing towards the kitchenette with wide eyes as if you were a child caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. He shuffled in his seat, huffing.

“Be quick,” he said. You could swear you saw the skin of his cheeks flush a tinge of pink as you turned away. He liked efficiency, and it was something you were pretty good at, but you hadn’t moved quite that fast before.

When you had agreed to your ‘not-so-little’ promotion, you were sent home with a whole new list of Terms and Conditions and - the more alarming of the two - an NDA.

With your lips still tingling from your apparent kiss from Katsuki, and your knees still weak, you weren’t able to do much more than graze your eyes over bits and pieces before deciding it was all okay. You should’ve taken the time to read it all.

You should always read the fine print when making deals with the devil.

The next day, almost as soon as you stepped into the building, you were met with Katsuki’s not-quite-other assistant, Mina, and whisked away to the seamstress floor. There you met Hanta, who himself had been up for the most part of the night - slaving over the newest design Katsuki procured as of just yesterday.

When you were told to get into a change room and strip - the carcass of a new dress in your hands - you were just shy of shocked.

“What - why?”

“Like I know how the mind of Bakugou works.” Hanta said, waving his hand around tiredly, trying to push you to close the curtain. “You know normally I have models in for this sort of thing - I mean you definitely fit the bill. The measurements, the dress is practically made for you. But it’s weird to me too that he got his secretary to do this job instead.”

“I’ve never done this before.” You whispered, clutching the covered mock-up to your chest.

“You’ll be fine,” Hanta replied, just as quiet, with his hand ready to close the curtain on you, “I’ve seen it on a mannequin - it’ll look fantastic on you. Just be confident.”

You tried your best to be confident - as pretty as the dress was, even unfinished with an unfinished hem and seams half-done - but it was leaving you feeling more exposed than you were used to.

The small changing cubicle had a mirror on one side - what for you weren’t sure. You’d seen plenty of models walk out of them only to have most of it adjusted with pins and cut off with scissors - often by Katsuki himself. You supposed it didn’t matter how bad it looked - you’d get manhandled until it looked the way it was supposed to.

With your hands smoothing the fabric on your hips - a nervous habit you showed too often - you took a turn in front of the mirror. It did look nice, even if it was only ivory muslin.

“ - Taking so fucking long!” Quite suddenly Katsuki’s voice could be heard - and even more suddenly you felt a great need to curl up somewhere and hide. He’s going to see you like this. He’s going to hate it. You are not prepared for this.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out your chest and leave a little blood trail all across the floor.

A hand curled around one side of the curtain divider and pulled it back. You let out a small startled yelp, bringing up your hands to cover your chest as if someone had dropped glass over a marble floor.

It was him.

“Oh shut up, no one else can see you.” Katsuki said, rolling his eyes before they laid on you in a hard stare up and down. He was right, besides the half-open curtain, you couldn’t see anyone through his broad chest and shoulders - not to mention the cheshire grin that was taking up half his face. “But I wouldn’t blame them for wanting a peek, give me a turn.”

You stood gobsmacked - where you seriously still processing what was going on? - and watched as his hip cocked to one side and his hands landed on his hips below the huge coat over his shoulders.

“You are starting a habit of forcing me to do things for you myself.” He said, taking hold of your hips and turning you slowly. His hands were warm as they moved you around in a small circle, leaving almost a burning trail behind over your hips, lower back and stomach. “I’ll let you know that’s not why I decided to fuckin’ like you.” he said.

His voice was soft, almost completely without its usual rough baritone. It shocked you, and as you looked over at him he wasn’t meeting your eyes - instead focusing on how a seam at your hip wasn’t seeming to sit how he wanted it to.

“What?” you asked quietly, aware there were probably others outside - Hanta even - and you supposed both yourself and Katsuki didn’t really want to let other people know exactly what you were talking about. Especially since it definitely sounded more personal than Katsuki ever had been.

“You did things for yourself. I liked that.” he said. Then, as if you didn’t just share what was most likely the most intimate moment of Katsuki’s adult life, he pushed the curtain back fully and grabbed you by the hand - exposing you fully to the handful of seamstresses waiting.

With a few barked orders, a flurry of people were at your sides, making adjustments. The neckline loosened, waist was made tighter, the blade of a scissor made another slit up your legs on the opposite side to the one existing. Your hands almost rose to clutch at the fabric at your chest in case it all fell away. Katsuki's hands rose to knock yours away.

“Don’t get in the way,” he mumbled, standing back. The others backed off too, apparently all taking a moment to look at what remained of the dress. “What do you think?” he asked, looking you right in the eyes. Your mouth parted, as if to answer, but the look in his eyes said he wasn’t even talking to you.

“One of your best.” Hanta said, barely needed to look up from where he was taking final notes to read his long-time associate. “Probably will be once it’s done. Beautiful.”

“You mean fucking divine.”

“You’re joking.” you said, carelessly holding the new dress in one hand as you stood angrily looking down at Katsuki.

“Does it look like I’m joking?” he asked, looking at you over the rims of his glasses.

He’d brought you back up to his office after the fitting downstairs, only to demand you change into another dress. The reason this time was completely unknown, and he was refusing to elaborate yet - worse, there was nowhere to change up here.

You’d have to strip and change here (with him in the room), or out behind your desk (right in front of the elevator anyone could use).

“I can’t believe…” you said, scoffing, now slightly gobsmacked along with your anger. “I’m not doing that.”

“If you think it bothers me, you’re mistaken.” He said, standing slowly and leaning over his desk. “Get changed. If you’re so protective of your modesty you can run along into the kitchen, see if I care. Just whatever you do, do it quickly. You’re making me wait long enough as it is.” Then he reached across and squished your cheeks between his fingers, pulling you closer so you leant over the desk too.

“If you really thought I was the kind of man to mix pleasure and professionalism then I’ve got news for you.” he said, wobbling your chin back and forth in his hold. “The only time you have to worry about that is if I invite you home, okay baby?”

While half of you was wanting to continue to defy Katsuki, you knew you were treading a fine line.

Letting out a huff, you pulled away, turned on your heel and held the dress out in front of you. It honestly wasn’t much more than a silk slip, but you’d had enough of an interest in fashion over your time to know this was very tame compared to many other dresses. Even compared to the one you wore not even an hour earlier.

Grinding you jaw in thought for a moment, you thought ‘fuck it’. Katsuki said so already but you knew someone getting almost naked in his office wouldn’t bother him - why should you let it bother you too?

The dress was thrown onto the chaise, and you pulled off your shirt as you slipped out of your heels. Your skirt shimmed off, and the dress came on. Despite refusing to look behind you to see what Katsuki was doing, you couldn’t help how your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest.

At least your underwear was matching, thank god.

You were about to do up the zipper when he made it clear he had indeed been watching you.

“No, take that thing off.” Your head whipped over your shoulder.

“Excuse me?” If looks could strike someone dead, a lightning bolt would’ve shot right through that window into Katsuki’s back. “I am not getting changed again.”

“No you bitch, I mean the bra. Take it off, it’s making the dress look daggy.” The way he said it made your face heat up. Duh.

“You could’ve said that before I put this much on, you’d think you’d have known that before now.” You grumbled, shoving the sleeves down again to unclasp your bra and toss it aside. Turning around again as you did up the zipper, you looked at Katsuki again, and the red of his eyes seemed darker than ever. You wondered if you’d said something wrong. Then his lip quirked up a bit.

“There’s my favorite secretary.” he said, and imminently tilted his head down to start sketching.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader

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nitrateglow · 3 months ago

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Spooky Season 2024: 6-11

Targets (dir. Peter Bogdanovich, 1968)

Targets follows two parallel stories that eventually intertwine. The first involves elderly horror star Byron Orlock (Boris Karloff), disillusioned with his professsion and the real-world violence around him, and intent on retiring from film. The second involves Bobby (Tim O'Kelly), a disturbed young man obsessed with guns who goes on a murder spree. Both points converge at the drive-in premiere of Orlock's newest film.

Targets caught me offguard. The violence in the story involves a mass shooter and so it has a lot of real-world parallels. The killings are presented in a matter of fact way, without spectacle or blood geysers. It makes all of it feel more real and upsetting, especially since we've seen our share of Bobby-like killers over the decades.

My youngest sister watched this one with me and kept calling Karloff's character "Babygirl" and that isn't wrong. Though crabby and cynical, Byron is really charming and likeable. The arc he undergoes is really powerful, particularly as it pertains to his relationship with his secretary Jenny (Nancy Hsueh).

Though the tensions of the late '60s are a major part of Targets, it also deals with the gulf between the old school horror movies represented by Orlock and the more violent fare of the dawning New Hollywood era. I feel like there are just so many layers here. I really need to rewatch it. It's a fascinating movie and I would highly recommend it.

The Phantom of the Opera (dir. Dwight H. Little, 1989)

Modern singer Christine Day (Jill Schoelen) is sent back in time to a previous life as an aspiring opera singer in 1880s London. Her mentor is Erik Destler (Robert Englund), a disfigured composer who made a deal with the devil that left him immortal and embittered. He also has a habit of skinning people and then stitching the flesh on his ugly ass face. The opera management wants to build up another diva's career at the expense of Christine's. Erik doesn't like this. People start getting killed.

The 1989 The Phantom of the Opera is such a mixed bag, but I enjoy it anyway. The script is a mess. It frames the story with this weird time travel/reincarnation/isekai plot that doesn't add up to anything. It introduces interesting concepts-- like the relationship between Christine and Erik reflecting Erik's own deal with the devil-- without fleshing them out. Also-- and if Letterboxd is anything to go by, I'm in the minority-- I'm not crazy about Jill Schoelen's Christine, though I think that's more due to the way Christine is written than how she plays the role.

But then you have the glorious production design, stagebound but dripping in gothic candlelight and late Victorian grime. Best of all, you get Robert Englund's Erik Destler, one of the best onscreen Phantoms of all time.

I love how Englund's Erik is both an excitable schoolboy, almost squealing with delight while Christine kills it at Faust, and a violent, vengeful monster who doesn't take his will being defied lightly. I like the skin-grafting angle for the mask and that Erik ventures out into the London underworld at night. These are all fresh elements and I wish they could have been combined with a tighter, more focused script.

Still, this is a fun movie.

Murders in the Zoo (dir. A. Edward Sutherland, 1933)

A zoologist (Lionel Atwill) is pathologically jealous of his younger wife (Kathleen Burke), and so starts killing any perceived rival to his possession of her. Very pre-code violence ensues.

I'm going to be blunt: this movie did not live up to the hype. A lot of pre-code fans vouch for it as the nastiest horror film of the era. That is likely true. The first thing we see is a man getting his mouth sewed shut, a bit of nastiness that would shock in a recent film, let alone one from 1933. There are some gruesome killings throughout.

Too bad the story is sluggish and dull. There's a lot of corny comic relief that stops the action dead. The direction is flat. It's definitely not a movie I can see myself revisiting. There's barely anything there to sustain interest beyond the occasional creative murder-- no atmosphere, no anything.

Other than the murders, the only thing that stood out to me was Kathleen Burke as the tragic wife of the crazy zoologist. Burke is best remembered as Lota the Panther Woman in Island of Lost Souls. Her career fizzled out quickly, which is a shame because she has great presence and no shortage of talent.

The Black Room (dir. Roy William Neill, 1935)

In a Tyrolean town, an ancient prophecy swears that the ruling house will be destroyed when twins are born and the younger brother kills the older. So when the baron is presented with twin sons, he does everything he can to prevent the prophecy, such as sealing up the Black Room where the murder is supposed to occur. The boys grow up different as can be: the older brother Gregor (Boris Karloff) is cruel and sensual, abusing the locals and his own power, while the younger Anton (also Karloff) is gentle and kind. Despite his twin's sweet nature, Gregor is still concerned for his life and his continued domination of the town. He hatches a devious plan to cheat fate, but can he?

For some reason, I thought I had seen this movie long ago, but apparently not. What a delightful gothic story this is! It's filled with all the old school tropes played straight: an ancient prophecy, a lecherous nobleman preying on innocent maidens, a torture chamber filed with corpses, a dark and gloomy castle. There is a subtle sense of grim humor throughout, but it never descends into parody when it easily could have.

If you've ever doubted Karloff's capabilities as an actor, this movie should remedy that opinion. He plays two distinct characters, and at one point, gives a performance within a performance. All three performances feature their own unique body language, line delivery, and business. It's astonishing throughout.

Equally impressive is the direction from Roy William Neill. Best known for helming the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes movies, his direction here is so dynamic and impressive, not in the least stagey or inert.

One last thing: for a post-Production Code movie, it has a surprising amount of violence and sexuality. Gregor is clearly using the local women for his sexual gratification before murdering them, and his interest in Marian Marsh's lovely aristocratic girl is 100% carnal. There's a pit full of corpses and we get to look into it rather than have its presence alluded to offscreen. It's all nasty stuff. It really feels like the filmmakers got away with a lot, even if it seems tame by modern standards!

The Bells (dir. James Young, 1926)

Innkeeper Mathias (Lionel Barrymore) hopes to become burgomaster of his village. He hopes endless credit and free drinks will sway the populace to support him, but this comes close to killing his business and destroying his family. Desperate, he murders a wealthy guest, destroys the body, and uses his pilfered gold to pay off all debts and influence his way to power. However, both the crushing guilt and a mesmerist (Boris Karloff) with mind-reading powers threaten to expose him.

This is one of those movies that has a great premise, but the execution is very underwhelming. The filmmakers waste a lot of time on the romantic antics of Mathias' pretty daughter and goofy comedy. It's like they were timid about leaning more into the gothic, distressing elements of this dark story and it makes the film drag.

Still, Barrymore is good, especially once he commits the murder and starts going all Telltale Heart. But the best thing in the movie is definitely Boris Karloff. He had been in movies since 1919 and it wouldn't be until Frankenstein in 1931 that he became a star. But it's safe to say, The Bells gives Karloff his first standout role.

Karloff's character doesn't show up a lot, but he is the biggest threat to Mathias' power. Though his Caligari cosplay is hilarious (for real, the filmmakers didn't even TRY to hide the Caligari influence), he has this creepy shit-eating grin that really leaves an impression.

Is Karloff enough to make this worth watching? Eh, I don't think so. There are far better silent thrillers you could be watching.

The Sorcerers (dir. Michael Reeves, 1967)

Elderly Professor Montserratt (Boris Karloff) and his wife Estelle (Catherine Lacey) use a mind control procedure on young stud Mike Roscoe (Ian Ogilvy). Able to experience everything he feels and to control his behavior if they wish, the two vicariously experience the thrills of Swinging London through their test subject. However, Estelle gets drunk on power and starts using Mike to engage in multiple crimes, including murder.

This movie was hyped to me, so maybe it's partially my fault I was so disappointed by the end result. With the exception of Estelle, the story lacks compelling characters. There's no sense of pathos to Mike's victimization and downfall because he's bland as hell and passive, a deadly combination if you want me to give a damn about your narrative.

Everything about this movie feels drab, both the visuals and the filmmaking itself. Big setpieces like the hypnotism scene or the telepathic motorcycle ride are supposed to be kinetic and exciting, but they just feel like the product of an enthusiastic amateur. I've seen low budget movies that have real personality and verve despite their lack of resources (see Blast of Silence), but The Sorcerers just feels cheap and uninspired in every way. I struggled to finish it even though it wasn't even an hour and a half long.

It's a shame because I like the central premise: two elderly people use this device to vicariously experience the fast life of swinging London. But it's done so poorly. It's hard to believe director Michael Reeves' next film would be the masterful Witchfinder General.

#targets 1968 #the phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera 1989 #murders in the zoo #spooky season 2024 #thoughts #the bells 1926 #the sorcerers #the black room #lots of karloff on this list lmao

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 27 days ago

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Dr. Seuss knew what was up.

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

October 29, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Oct 30, 2024

Republican presidential nominee former president Donald Trump offered Americans his closing argument in the 2024 presidential race on Sunday, October 27, at Madison Square Garden. At a rally that evoked a Nazi rally at the old Madison Square Garden on February 20, 1939, Trump’s warm-up acts set the terms of Trump’s final pitch to voters by calling Puerto Rico “a floating island of garbage in the middle of the ocean” and railing against “f*cking illegals.” They called Vice President Kamala Harris “the Antichrist” and “the devil,” and called former secretary of state Hillary Clinton “a sick son of a b*tch.” When Trump took the stage about two hours late, he echoed the warm-up acts, and then reiterated that he believes fellow Americans are “the enemy within.”

The racism and fascism Trump’s MAGA Republicans displayed at Madison Square Garden is usually expressed within their media bubble, where it passes for normal conversation. The backlash against it among people in the real world appears to have shocked the Trump campaign so much that the candidate is running away from his own closing argument.

On Monday, Trump felt obliged to tell an audience in Georgia, “I’m not a Nazi.” The Trump campaign has made it a point never to apologize and never to explain, but on Monday it broke that rule, trying to distance itself from performer Tony Hinchcliffe’s comments about Puerto Rico.

This morning, Trump announced he would hold a press conference at Mar-a-Lago. He showed up more than an hour late for the assembled press, then began the event by undermining faith in the election, claiming the campaign is going “very well; there are some bad spots in Pennsylvania where some serious things have been caught or are in the process of being caught,” although it was unclear what he meant.

He went on to deliver such a litany of lies that CNN cited them as a reason to cut away from the speech. Trump chose not to acknowledge the offensiveness of the Madison Square Garden event, saying ““The love in that room, it was breathtaking—and you could have filled it many many times with the people that were unable to get in.”

Tonight, Democratic presidential candidate Kamala Harris offered her own closing argument to the American voters. Once again taking her campaign directly to Trump, she held a rally at the Ellipse near the White House, where Trump spoke to his supporters on January 6, 2021, before sending them off to the U.S. Capitol to stop the counting of the electoral votes that would make Joe Biden president.

More than 75,000 attendees in the Ellipse and standing on the Mall near the Washington Monument waved flags and held up signs with “USA” printed on them as Harris spoke in front of a backdrop of the White House, on a stage with a line of American flags.

“One week from today, you will have the chance to make a decision that directly impacts your life, the life of your family, and the future of this country we love,” she said. “[I]t will probably be the most important vote you ever cast. And this election is more just than a choice between two parties and two different candidates. It is a choice about whether we have a country rooted in freedom for every American or ruled by chaos and division.”

Harris outlined Trump’s attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election and noted that he is “unstable, obsessed with revenge, consumed with grievance, and out for unchecked power.” She continued: “Donald Trump has spent a decade trying to keep the American people divided and afraid of each other. That is who he is. But America, I am here tonight to say: that is not who we are.” She called for Americans “to turn the page on the drama and the conflict, the fear and division.”

The vice president described herself as “someone who has spent most of my career outside of Washington, D.C.,” a former prosecutor who cares that all people are treated fairly and that those who “use their wealth or power to take advantage of other people” are held to account.

She promised to “work every day to build consensus and reach compromise to get things done…. [to] work with everyone—Democrats, Republicans, and Independents—to help Americans who are working hard and still struggling to get ahead.” She vowed to lower costs by delivering tax cuts to working people and the middle class, ban price gouging on groceries, lower the cost of prescription drugs, provide down payment assistance for first-time homebuyers, and build millions of new homes.

She promised to fight for a child tax credit and to lower the cost of child care, as well as allowing Medicare to cover the cost of home aides for seniors.

She promised to “fight to restore what Donald Trump and his hand-selected Supreme Court Justices took away from the women of America.” “[W]hen Congress passes a bill to restore reproductive freedom nationwide,” she said, “as President of the United States, I will proudly sign it into law.”

She promised to “work with Democrats and Republicans to sign into law the border security bill that Donald Trump killed.” She promised to “remove those who arrive here unlawfully, prosecute the cartels, and give border patrol the support they so desperately need. At the same time,” she said, “we must acknowledge we are a nation of immigrants.” She vowed to “work with Congress to pass immigration reform, including an earned path to citizenship for hardworking immigrants like farmworkers and our Dreamers.”

“As Commander in Chief,” she said, “I will make sure America has the strongest, most lethal fighting force in the world.… I will strengthen—not surrender—America’s global leadership,” and stand with America’s allies because “our alliances keep American people safe and make America stronger and more secure.”

While Trump offers “more chaos, more division, and policies that help those at the very top and hurt everyone else,” Harris said, “I offer a different path. And I ask for your vote. And here is my pledge to you: I pledge to seek common ground and commonsense solutions to make your life better…. I pledge to listen: To experts, to those who will be impacted by the decisions I make, and to people who disagree with me…. I pledge…to approach my work with the joy and optimism that comes from making a difference in people’s lives. And I pledge to be a president for all Americans. And to always put country above party and self.”

“I love our country with all my heart,” she said, “And I believe in its promise. Because I’ve lived it…. And I see the promise of America in all of you…. I see it in the young people who are voting for the first time who are determined to live free from gun violence and to protect our planet, and to shape the world they inherit.

“I see it in the women who refuse to accept a future without reproductive freedom, and the men who support them. I see it in Republicans who have never voted for a Democrat before but have put the Constitution of the United States over party. I’ve seen it in Americans, different in many respects, but united in our pursuit of freedom, our belief in fairness and decency, and our faith in a better future.”

“Nearly 250 years ago, America was born when we wrested freedom from a petty tyrant. Across the generations, Americans have preserved that freedom, expanded it, and in so doing, proved to the world that a government of, by, and for the people is strong and can endure. And those who came before us—the patriots at Normandy and Selma, Seneca Falls and Stonewall, on farmlands and factory floors—they did not struggle, sacrifice, and lay down their lives only to see us cede our fundamental freedoms…only to see us submit to the will of another petty tyrant.

“These United States of America: we are not a vessel for the schemes of wannabe dictators. The United States of America is the greatest idea humanity ever devised: a nation big enough to encompass all our dreams, strong enough to withstand any fracture or fissure between us, and fearless enough to imagine a future of possibilities.

“So, America, let us reach for that future. Let us fight for this beautiful country we love. And in seven days, we have the power—each of you has the power—to turn the page and start writing the next chapter in the most extraordinary story ever told.

“I thank you all,” she said. “God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.”

In Las Vegas, Nevada, today, the Harris campaign placed a giant political advertisement on the Sphere, the music and entertainment venue owned by the same family that owns Madison Square Garden. The globe showed stars and stripes, pictures of Vice President Harris, the words “Harris-Walz,” “November 5,” “Vote for Freedom,” “Vote for Opportunity, “Vote for our Future,” “Vote for Kamala,” “Vote for a New Way Forward.” “Vote for Reproductive Freedom,” “When We Fight, We Win,” and “When We Vote, We Win.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Dr.Seuss #Nazi rally #Madison Square Garden #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Vote for our Future #Reproductive rights #fascism #global leadership #political cartoons

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midnightkolrath · 11 months ago

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Quick thought ideas on a DMC2 remake potential

Thinking about DMC2 recently and how a remake could benefit into making the story MUCH better than how it unfortunately ended up (due to the messy development of the game but alas). These are just things I've thought about off the top of my head on how they could easily benefit from remaking 2 and putting in much needed reworks and additions because man this game has potential still if redone right. I threw these on Twitter recently, but I'm giving abit more expansion here. I'm sure there's more ideas, but this is all I've gone to throw on the floor for right now.

Give Argosax an actual personality that matches their description of being a demon lord and rival to Mundus in territory terf war. They also have a cult like Mundus, as DMC2 has highlighted, so...surely they need to be represented better as a threat, yeah?

Make Arius much more of a threat. He’s a sorcerer, so have him FLEX that alot more. He made Lucia and the secretaries, who're artificial demons, and he ends up taking in Argosax's power...so like...keep him abit hammy if you want but make him the SCARY kind of hammy.

Potentially have Dante and Lucia’s campaigns be steamlined into one consecutive storyline. Alternate as the story goes on like in DMC5. I feel like since the two campaigns were mostly, iirc, copy paste parallels...they could just have the two stories basically run side by side. Give Lucia's side more room to be more unique.

Have more lore for the Protectors (The group Matier and Lucia belong to). They fought Argosax and worked together with Sparda, so like…an added crumb of flashback or so wouldn’t hurt imo. I'm not asking for like a whole big thing on it, just... [pinches fingers together] abit more.

Have Dante and Lucia interact abit more. Lucia being outted as an artificial demon is something I feel can have more connection there. A ‘Devils Never Cry’ moment, if you will. As cheesy as it can be seen nowadays, the series IS named after it. Well....moreso the fact that any demon encountering Dante 'may cry', but you get what I mean. Plus, its stated Lucia has a crush on Dante....so like...give that more to lean on? I'm not saying they have to build to anything actually happening, as we know how Dante is, but juuust enough, you know?

Have Dante’s brooding be more akin to, say, how the first DMC anime handled it. I feel like he was a good balance of ‘Man I’ve been through shit’ tiredness but still ‘I got some snarky humor and understanding towards others’.

The obvious rebalancing of weapons so it isn’t just GUN 24/7, but they can be cheeky and add an achievement referencing that, sure why not.

Maaaaybe add styles. Though acrobatic Dante with the movement he can do in this game, while silly, is still kinda fun. Trickster DOES have its roots from this game, as an inspiration.

Give the bosses in this game personality, please I am begging. They’re barely, if at all, memorable because they’re plain as hell. Remake them, replace, idc, I just want that boss banter.

Speaking of, make the Argosax fight less a pain and maybe better utilize that fact that it reuses the DMC1 bosses. I feel like we can go more body horror on it, esp if Argosax gets more a personality. Like…Argosax’s title is literally Argosax the Chaos, go crazy on that.

Speaking of Argosax having potential...did you recall that they casually flip genders in the second form they turn into? To me, you can make that unsettling in the sense that you can make Argosax sound more unsettling. Like the idea brewing in my head is to make it sound like more than one person speaking at once...like a legion. Or akin to how the true final boss for Sonic Frontiers was handled voice wise. Like I said, you can REALLY potentially run more with the fact that Argosax has 'Chaos' in the title.

#devil may cry #dmc #DMC1 needs its remake first but #I can't stop thinking about the potential of remaking 2 #like I can see crumbs of gold in that poor mess #I REALLY hope it gets another chance

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yourreddancer · 27 days ago

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Heather Cox Richardson 10.29.24

She promised to fight for a child tax credit and to lower the cost of child care, as well as allowing Medicare to cover the cost of home aides for seniors.

“I thank you all,” she said. “God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.”

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miraevanlynch · 1 year ago

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✨CROWLEY'S RANK THEORY BEFORE FALLING ✨

Maybe Crowley is a Seraphim because there are 4 Seraphims flying around the god, but only 2 have been identified as Metatron and Seraphiel, Lucifer aka Samael is said to be the 3rd, and the 4th is still a mystery.

But I think Crowley is not Seraph because he doesn't like to work in the choir of heaven, flies around the god all day and sang : "Holy holy holy", is terribly boring, but in the season 2 we see him creating the universe, he has a lot of knowledge, so in my opinion he is Ophanim responsible for enlightening and manifesting God's creative power (Creating the stars), giving mankind the knowledge of God ( you know, Crowley feeding Adam and Eve with the forbidden fruit ) and being entities of imagination and constant awareness of what is around them ( Crowley always asks questions ). Ophanim is associated with the image of a flaming wheel constantly moving and changing shape (it suits Crowley so much) and what makes me support this Theory the most is that the Ophanim are said to have a special and intimate relationship with the Cherubim. The Good Omens Prime twitter account just dropped a little Easter Eggs in the short video at the beginning of episode 1 that Aziraphale used to be a Cherub since the universe wasn't created, so we can see why Crowley and Aziraphale got bundled together, that's my hypothesis.

I'm not sure, because after two days of struggling with the last 15 minutes of episode 6, the thing I wonder most is Crowley's angel rank. So I googled for documents and came up with this theory, actually at first I thought Crowley was the Vitures (the ones who monitor the stars and the universe) But this rank is lower than Domination, so I think Ophanim is the most reasonable, and Ophanim is a lower rank than Cherubim (which explains why Aziraphale knew the universe would be destroyed after 6000 years and the pre-Fall Crowley don't ), but also strong and powerful enough to open the Gabriel's information file, and more importantly why Metatron and Crowley doesn't seem to like each other (imagine how stress a CEO's chief secretary would be when the Director of Designer kept asking him questions about the Project he worked on, then ask you to submit a recommendation to the general boss, raise hand to refute you in the project announcement meeting, while you are just the face of the boss and can't decide anything but implementation, while that Designer can do what he like and refute petitions all day long) Metatron must have been so bitter about Crowley, he didn't like that dandy devil, because he couldn't do anything to smite Crowley? ( angels of the same Rank all have equal strength and power, more or less hierarchical in being closer to God or not).

This is just a hypothesis that I came up with and drew from the details in the series and the Bible, so it's best to wait until SS3 to see how awesome the Pre Fall Crowley is, whether attached to Seraphim or Ophanim, Crowley still deserves the award for the coolest entity (simpest entity) in the universe 🔥😈

Thank you for reading !

#good omens 2 #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #ineffable fandom #Crowley angel's rank theory #I hope we can know all about it in SS3

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t0rturedangel · 2 years ago

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: ̗̀➛ ⚝ Ꞌꞌ : Яₑdₑₘₚₜᵢₒₙ ━━ ; THE PPROLOGUE

━━ WARNINGS ; swearing, interpolations of hell / heaven, kinda shit, so is the pacing but that's only BC I had a very limited time 🖤

Sitting at your desk you typed away at the laptop you were provided for so you could do your job. While it was boring to be the devil's personal secretary you did manage to get all the juicy details a normal devil or a high ranking demon could only dream of knowing and also, since SATAN was having extreme trouble with his relationships - or better known as sulking because he doesn't have a boyfriend - you were given the responsibilities of attending all of his meetings, and those meetings included meeting GOD, yes that same entity that billions devoted their lives for.

When you first started this job you honestly didnt expect any of the things that did happen to you. For one you were given your own rank within the demon society, leading the hierarchy to go like this : ADAM & EVE - the original sinners, the rulers of the underworld, feared and loved by all the miserable and dammed souls of hell, notably Eve has much more power and status over Adam, since after all it was her who took the bite from the apple, once they died due to their new morality they were sent to a place under the the land they lived on, quickly they claimed it as their own and swore for revenge against god. SATAN & DAMIEN - the son and grandson of the original sinners, though adam and eve have the most power they are barely ever seen, if not they are NEVER seen thus leading satan (their son) to take over the place, but due to his lack of responsibility and want for a relationship he created Damien though he also sucked at the job causing the need for you. [ NAME ] - yes you get your own little rank? aren't you lucky? though you dont have much power and your rank is barely even acknowledged by other demons its still there, making you much much more important than other demons. DEMONS - demons are low ranking, most of them barely even have any powers and they are forced to work, though not as much as devils do. Many demons are rich and boast about it. DEVILS - devils are the lowest of the low, no devil has any powers, they are forced to labour and never catch a break.

You were honestly so happy you had your own rank, it meant that you were something, not an ordinary sinner or hell-born like all the rest. Though now, you couldnt focus on that, instead you tired to type away- trying to plan another meeting with the royal family of the southern rings to discuss their want for more land. Key word "tried", your attention was drawn to a blinding light that shown through your office, a small white letter with a golden wax stamp of angel wings, leading you to immediately register that it was indeed from heaven. You left your email half-way done, crimson red hands holding the letter. You scoffed, heaven was so under-developed, they practically all refused to develop heaven and introduce technology, wonder what this remind you of. Opening your letters, your jet black eyes scanned over it's contents

' DEAR SATAN'S REPROSENTITIVE

Our god wishes to speak to your sinner self, you must arrive at 7:33am exactly for the two of you to speak.

If you arrive late, as your kind tend to do, you will not be let into heaven

Kind regards, THE SAINTS FROM ABOVE `

You rolled your eyes at the language used by the angels, while they loved to preach about how wonderful they are, they hated anything that wasnt them, degrading them silently as to not fall from grace if god hears them. Though after some thinking, you rose a brow- what did god want to talk to you about? All of your meetings with it was completed and done exactly on schedule ( as you tended to have a hate for showing up late ) , werent they? Perhaps it just wanted to have a normal chat with you, the two of you have done that previously as it had gained a 'fondness' of you - its words, not yours - and enjoyed your presence. Deciding to just stop thinking about it you looked at the time, ' 7:30 ' , great you had three minutes.

Standing up you fixed your outfit (which consisted of an overly large beige turtle neck and a long lack skirt that clung to your fiery red skin) and made your way up to heaven via the Latin based spell that you memorized just for these occasions " Peto ut anima mea, licet peccatis mortalibus infecta, ad portas terrae sanctorum perducatur, deus caelorum ingrediendi coelorum potestatem mihi concessit. "

Within seconds you were at the golden gates of heaven, two faceless angels guarding it, wearing normal ancient roman like armor, glass spears in their stiff hands, silver rings acting as helmets . Upon noticing your arrival, though not having faces you knew they scowled and yet still they let you in. It didnt take long for you to find the palace of god, entering it you were greeted with the figure of it. God wasn't a large white man, with a long beard and white robes, God wasnt a reptilian monster who was the same height of a ten year old. God was a voice, a feelings, a thought, it wasnt physical but for the sake of it's subjects it forced itself to have a physical form one that consisted of a tall lanky person ( no one could tell if it was a male or female thus leading people to refer to it as well . . . 'it' ) with long white hair that stretched out like branches that belonged to a tree, long lanky limps and most noticeably it had no face, only a body.

" my friend " it refered to you making you bow out of respect, though many sinners hated god as they thought it was the reason for all the angel's bitchy attitudes it had no control over what it's 'children' did. God always referred to saints as ' my children ' and sinners as ' My lost followers ' hell it even refers to adam and eve, satan and Damien as ' My opposites ' but he always called you ' my friend ' it made you wonder.

" Yes, holy monarch ? " you raised you head, making 'eye contact' with it. " My friend, due to your respect for me and all angels, your sinless actions towards everyone. I have granted you the gift of redemption " it spoke gently yet firmly, not caring to call you out on your shock at the words that felt its mouth " what ?! " you yelped, wondering if this was some type of trick " You heard me, friend, i'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself and join me withing the heavenly walls of peace. The question is, will you take this chance ? " you answered it's quetion with a breathy 'yes' still quite shocked with it's random and sudden proposal " That is most wondeful, my friend. Though you cannot simply be granted redemption just for your acts here, you must prove yourself even more to me. " " How, holy monarch ? " " I will send you to a mortal town, by the name of south park. You are to go there and preform acts of purity " it stated calmly " But. " of course there was a but " You must. MUST. " it's voice boomed, showing how serious it gotten " Follow two rules, understand? " " Yes . . . " " One, you are not to tell anyone what you are or speak in your tounge, their mortal brains will not be able to handle such information and will be forced to end their own lives " though the rule sounded extremally over dramaticated you nodded " and Two, you are not to fall in love with any mortal. Breaking these two rules will never grant you a place in heaven. You will be chained to hell forever. Am i clear? " You nodded, those rules were simple. Simple enough for you to follow and never break, while you were a 'demon' from hell you liked to think you were different from Adam and Eve, they broke god's rule, you will not.

" I will grant you the knowledge of mortals and send you to their land " God's boney hand reached out to you, once making contact with your forehead you felt a rush of adrenaline fill you, your impish body not being able to handle the contact from a god fell onto the cold, damp cloudy ground, everything going black.

" do not disappoint me. my child "

An extremely strange and new hotness engulfed the town of south park as the earth's crust burst opened, the screams of the damned filled the town's silent atmosphere and a figure of a girl landed on the ground, the snow crunched under her weight, the moonlight shown on her face making her look almost angelic if anyone was there to see her, though due to nights reign over south park no one was there to see how she rose up groggily, looking around.

TAG LIST ; @ky-uwu @mishstuff

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rodent-king-buunii · 6 months ago

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Were more than halfway done, this is eps 9-12. I put pictures + screenshots in this time.. Bare w me here

TW: Death

Episode 9:[not much happens]

The street clip is back

The real life footage is fuckin trippy stop!

THE BEAR ONSIE MADE A COMEBACK! LETS GOO!!

Alien Freddy Kruger has made an appearance..

Oop- damn she found a Knight..

O no.. what is she bout to do w track 44?

NOT HER PARENTS GETTIN BUSY WHILE THEIR CHILDRENT ARE FUCKIN DYIN N KILLIN!?

THE SKINWALKER IS STILL BABBLIN BUT IS MAKIN SOME WORDS?!

The boy lives!! HE GAVE HER A SMOOCH?! N PUT HIS FUCKIN GUM IN HER MOUTH

Not her mimickin the sister’s babble on the banana phone

This episode has a lot of info + big words i don't entirely understand, i just know that Lain is bein duped in the wire like a deepfake matrix

WHO IS THIS FUCKIN DUDE?!

Episode 10:

THE FUCKIN STREET CLIP[i feel like i should have a counter for this shit too]

AYO SO THE DUDE AT THE END OF THE LAST EP LOOKS LIKE IS MONOKE HAD A BROTHER BUT THAT BROTHER WAS JUST… NOT HITTIN LIFE RIGHT?! THIS MFER SUPPOSED TO BE GOD?! HE LOOK LIKE A EMO NEANDRITHAL

GIRL GOD HAS ME KICKIN N SCREAMIN IM--

Not them beefin by readin each others minds out loud… this is the shittiest fuckin battle ive ever seen HELP

Why have a desk for someone that dosent exist?

Lain havin an existential crisis part 12..

They made this whole fake ass family to keep this creature[Lain] in a state of calm? She is some sort of experiment, her state of mind and body are separated. Like some sort of computer simulation that has made itself believe that its real..

As if she was a real girl but somethin happened n her consciousness was uploaded into an A.I. n is remembering that this fake world is hers, shes the god of her own world.. She is everythin n nothin

Dude2 finally made an appearance but bout to get EUTHANIZED!!

NOT HIS SECRETARY FINDIN HIM

DUDE 3 GOT FUCKED UP N GOT A BULB SHOVED IN HIS MOUTH HELP-

O shit the mom that the delivery dude was tryna get w got fucked up too

Kid didnt even notice…

The men in black are supposed to be the good guys but o my fuckin gods they talk like super villains- i liked it better when they didnt speak

They denounced the emo God for both worlds.. He cant be Hannah + Miley anymore

WHY THIS MFER LOOK LIKE EMINEM?!

Wait okai so it made sense when the dad said he loved her but when Eminem said it it made me confused??

Mfer look like the one meme

God is a dick dude “i created you” “love me” “theres no one else”

LAIN FIGHTIN BACK

Episode 11:[empty episode]

Openin up w/, what i can only assume is, Lain hookin up to her set in this empty house she once called a home.

It feels like a music video you vaguely remember seeing as a kid, is about to start.

Were Lain + the dead classmate actually friends?

Were any of her friendships real?

Was any of it real?

After 8 straight minutes of never starting a music video we got to the plot?

Emo god is back-- fucker

THIS BITCH IS SOFTWARE?! IS THAT WHAT YOURE TELLIN ME?!

She understands but doesnt at the same time + i feel her for that.

The dead girl + the guy from the club are playing angel + devil on her shoulder, playing the suicide game + trying to vaguely convince her not to..

Alice’s teacher “rumor” is still in hot pursuit

ALICE IS BEING STALKED BY FREDDY KRUEGER?!

O its just Lain bein weird.. Nvm..

She is the wired

Love that for her

Shit Lain passed it on like a fuckin virus

Episode 12:

“I was overthinking things all along” --Lain

What a fuckin mood

THE FUCKIN STREET CLIP IS BACK BBY!!!!

Alice is onto Lains ASS

+ LAIN KNOWS

Fuck Lain is bein creepy af usin her power to creep out her “best” friend

Taro is still up on the “i kissed an angel” thing-

Lets all love Lain

The man is tryna blend everyone + everythin usin Lain

THIS IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKIN DEATH SCENE WTF?!

WHY ME MOVIN LIKE THAT?!

HE SAW LAIN + FUCKIN SPAZZED TO DEATH

EMENEIM DOES TOO FUCK I LIKED HIM

Alice comes to the Ikura residence + walks though this trashed deserted house. Hits some gas, sees the skinwalker w/its head split in half, still babbling in search for Lain

Lain sleeps in a cocoon bed like i do :>

“Watching what?” Lain: :>

Lain thought she was loving Alice, Alice thought Lain was bat shit outta her mind + hated her.

Theyre connected without having connected

“Alice, i love you” girl don't-

Alice is a better friend than i am…

FUCKIN EMO GOD NEEDS TO FUCK OFF MY GUY

LET LAIN GO SHES SCARING ALICE ITS NOT A BUG SHES HUMAN DAMNIT

ITS NOT A BUG, SHES HUMAN

ALICE SAW THE HAND OF GOD

Not Lain talkin back to EMO GOD

I love her questionin him, tellin him that theres a god before him

Lain fuckin leaves him to go with Alice so he threw a fit + created a body… fuckin pussy

These girls watched as a false got destroyed himself

Death Count

+5[theres no telling how many global Knights there were]

+3[?]

New total ≈19

Thoughts:

I shouldnt have laughed as much as i did during episode 10 +12. God was givin v musty.

||P1||P2||P4||

#anime #serial experiments lain #spoilers #tw death #i make fun of it #im drooling over this series #i think its a new favourite of mine #queued

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misfitwashere · 27 days ago

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October 29, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

OCT 30

She promised to fight for a child tax credit and to lower the cost of child care, as well as allowing Medicare to cover the cost of home aides for seniors.

“I thank you all,” she said. “God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America.”

—

#heather cox richardson #letters from an american

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cantillat-moved · 2 years ago

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Some people are passionate about their work or a cause, one could say they are married to their job. In the case of Emiya Shirou, his objective was also his obsession to an unhealthy degree. He would be the first to admit to himself that his survivor’s guilt made him all twisted, skewing his personal views to dedicate his whole being to this one goal: to become a Hero of Justice. Is he anything like that thus far ? Sometimes it certainly seems to be an impossible goal and more often than not, it had put his life at risk. Sonia was born into her obligations, every moment of her life having a very clear end goal that whilst it wasn’t as hazardous as his path, at least in the physical sense, it was likely just as demanding if not even more. Of course he would worry about her both in terms of possible harm and in terms of mental health. The knowledge that she was still in contact with her high school friends made him smile, the recollection of the way she lightened up whenever mentioning them always made him think it was somewhat similar to an extended family. In a way, he was even slightly envious – there are few things as powerful as the connections of a fond family, the relationships one cultivates and endures throughout the years without blood ties. Sure, Shirou does have them but he had chosen to keep them at arm’s length for their own safety and they all also had their own objectives; who would walk the path alongside him ? Who would pursue the same unbiased justice despite the thanklessness and often times bitter defeats ? Sometimes it was beyond his grasp, something impossible to attain – yet he will keep on pursuing it. And he knows that Sonia too is pursuing a possibly impossible dream, she just seems to deny it to keep her own sanity.

❝ There are methods I could use to reach her out, but they are unpractical. There is the equivalent of telegrams for mages, but lunging a bulky machine around in my travels would be very hard. ❞ he described. Sure, they aren’t exactly bulky but they are extremely delicate and could break very easily. Depending on where in the world it would be hard to find spare parts for reposition and not everything could be fixed with his magecraft. In short, it would be a hassle. ❝ I do have a few contacts I send emails or text messages, but Tohsaka insists in living in the Dark Ages. I do have a few funny stories about her attempts at doing technology, like how she tried to cram her gems into the charging port of a mobile phone, I’m sure you can figure out how it went.❞ he dismissed with his hand. It was… A lot. There was also the time she tried to fax a few of her classmates but messed up and the machines kept on printing blots of ink throughout the night and not whatever she was trying to send. And the less said about her experiences in the driving seat the better – yes, maybe it was for the better if Sonia kept the image she currently has of the red devil and not learn how truly inept at anything technological Rin could be. Yes, better to let her have this illusion of elegance and poise that the Tohsaka heir knows how to project.

❝ Hmn, is this an invitation to show up more often ? ❞ he hummed in good spirits, ❝ No having my life at risk or coming though the window, that sounds a rather tall order considering how our previous encounters have been but it does sounds literally the one thing we haven’t done yet. How should I proceed ? Should my secretary contact your secretary and then we discuss how to make it happen ? Assuming I actually get a secretary… ❞ it was fairly easy to poke fun at their predicament, Shirou would bet that no-one else would cause so much grievances to Sonia. Their last “normal” meeting probably was back during their high school days. Still, he wasn’t done messing around: ❝ Oh, maybe I should apply for a temporary job at the kitchen? That would be easier to slip through the security …ops, I’m not supposed to do that. It is harder than it sounds. ❞

Maybe he should stop doing that. Teasing Sonia could be fun but it is only entertaining as long both are having fun and certainly not at her expense. It would be better to move on. ❝ Nothing wrong with the Esper Ito reruns. I’m pretty sure they are better than any remake they could come out with. I’ll always be the first to admit that tokusatsus were my guilt pleasure during my high school days. ❞ nothing wrong in liking innocent things like old series. Perhaps it was just that Shirou had outgrown many series he used to enjoy or rewatching old favorites also risks ruining that sweet nostalgia. To see that something one enjoyed as a kid might not be as amazing as it used to be. ❝ The last thing I want now is to deal with the news and other upsetting things. There’s time to keep informed and work and there is time to rest. Oh, you look nice in that scene, I hope everything is going well for your current plans. ❞ he interrupted his line of thought to comment as she appeared ❝ But I’m sure you also could use some rest. I think either the monster movie or one of the dramas could do. I think one of them was one of the adaptation of all the adventures of Kogoro Akechi against the Fiend with Twenty Faces… Think of the equivalent of Sherlock Holmes versus Arsene Lupin, although in this version they took a page of Jack the Ripper to go with it. ❞ he recalled his classmate mentioning it, despite preferring period dramas -- one of the actors had appeared in one of the series Gotou enjoyed.

Sonia felt her cheeks go involuntarily hot at Shirou’s admission. Worrying about her in the most general of senses, as a princess, if she was alive, she supposed that was to be expected. Beyond the pressure upon her shoulders, she’d shared with him the times she’d been kidnapped before. She couldn’t fault him for such concern.

But it was the combination of him, injured in the bed, and the way he’d said it that had given her pause. As if he worried for her more than a beating pulse and for Novoselic not falling into ruin. Not that she should’ve expected less…that’s just how things were, mostly. With a shake of her head, she undid the turnlock clasp and reached into her handbag for her mobile phone. “On the contrary, I contact my friends every week, and some almost every day,” She informed him, showing him the icons for WhatsApp, LINE, and Instagram. She opened the first one to show a group chat for some of her friends from Hope’s Peak: it had been over six years since graduation, and the chat thread was still updated with backstage glimpses from Ibuki’s latest show, a sleepy Chiaki at a gaming tournament, Nekomaru prepping athletes for the upcoming Olympics, and more.

“It’s not the same as visiting often, of course. I think to go back for reasons other than work, someone would have to get married,” She continued, minimizing the app again before turning off her phone’s screen. Of course, it was inappropriate to be on it while having a conversation, but unlike her former Class 77-B friends, she hardly ever spoke to Shirou. If just because he was so difficult to get ahold of. Or the fact he looked at her as if he could see through her, all of her, no matter if she tried to conceal it or not. “I know I didn’t need to prove it, but surely with Tohsaka-san’s distaste for technology aside, you could come up with something? Even if it’s Fujimura-sama typing as Tohsaka-san dictates. Surely nothing technological could go wrong there?”

She listened to him go on, even as she chided him about his current inability to cook. Sonia rolled her eyes as he reminded her how much he enjoyed it: probably because no one ever got sick from his meals, herself included. “I know, you like crafting meals, but you won’t be doing any of that in your current state,” She scolded him, albeit playfully as she settled back more comfortably into her chair. As much as she could manage: a cocktail dress did not make for great loungewear. “How about I promise that next time you visit, provided you’re in good health and you use the front door, you won’t be shot on sight and you’ll be permitted to use the kitchen here at Boudry House. I’d offer Novoselic Castle, but it isn’t mine to offer. Yet.” One day, when she was Queen, she could open up the vast kitchens of the Castle and any other royal property he’d want to cook at. But for now, her townhouse was what she could offer: she didn’t know much about the appliances and utensils herself, but her staff reminded her that they were top-of-the-line.

At that, the doors had opened once more to bring in their requested meals. The rich scent of spices and yogurt were enough to make her smile and jump up from the antique armchair in favor of something more straight-backed and situated beside a proper table. “I’m sure Tohsaka-san merely worries about you and cares about you,” She reassured Shirou in-between bites. “If she thought of you as a possession, would she have let you out of her sight? I think she’s a dear friend, but she does keep her valuables close at home.” Jewels, or property deeds, or whatever rare magecraft artifact was in her possession, Sonia had never known her to be lax with her things. “But for television, yes, Novoselic cable channels receive plenty of Japanese programs. Though what’s wrong with Esper Ito reruns? Beyond the filler episodes that deviated from the manga, though they’re still entertaining!”

The magical girl anime had been a phenomenon in Novoselic, the final episode being one of the highest-rated programs ever, rated just under the Royal Wedding of the then-Prince Alexandre of Novoselic and Lady Valentina Borghese. Still, she’d respect his wishes as she reached for the remote, flipping through channels: a Japanese talent variety show, a travel program currently focused on Bali, at least three different Japanese dramas, a shounen anime, a mecha anime, a classic monster film, and eliciting a groan from Sonia, two different news variety programs, one in French and Italian, one in Japanese, both currently running features about the Novoselic Royal Family. Namely, what all the members had done that week regarding public appearances and discussion around the next events on the social diary: a garden party and a horse race.

“I thought the news programs would have been over for the day,” She explained by way of apology, cringing at seeing recordings of her mother stepping off the plane in Sweden. Sonia herself was shown touring several middle schools in one of Novoselic’s smaller cities. “In any case, do any of these appeal to you?”

#more than a princess #x emiya : Shirou #x Emiya : Shirou : tbd : non despair Sonia #one of those days she is going to throw him a major curveball and he will regret sassing her lmao

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ben-talks-art · 2 years ago

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Why I like Asa and Yoru

"Hypothetically…if one person in class…had to jump off a roof…and that person was to be chosen by a vote…I think they'd all vote for me. I'd vote for me too."

Chainsawman has probably my favorite cast of female characters in any action shounen manga. Something about the way this author writes women just really works for me.

I always hate in manga when a female character is just the male lead's friend, or the male lead's love interest, or the male lead's mom, or teacher, or secretary, or dog walker or whatever... Basically, they tend to either have no character or life outside of the male lead's world.

Something I really like about Chainsawman is that all the girls and women act like they could be the protagonist of their own stories. They all act like they have their own problems, their own goals, their own sh*t to deal with... They all feel like actual characters and not just things to be added to the male lead's story. If something happened to Denji and he were to die or something they each would still have a life to live and a story to tell.

So when I saw that part 2 of the manga would focus on a girl as the new protagonist, I got really excited!

(spoilers for Chainsawman)

And just as I imagined, it took me just one chapter to completely fall for Asa. I love this girl.

Just like all the other girls in the series, she feels like she has her own struggles to deal with. She hates devils and yet has to live in a world where everyone's biggest hero is a devil, both of her parents are dead and she has no friends which means she's always alone, and everywhere she goes she keeps attracting bad luck after bad luck, be it a devil trying to kill her, her classmates trying to kill her (in more than one ways), or the crazy girl inside her head threatening to kill her.

But what's really interesting is that, even though she deals with a lot (and it really is a lot, my God I feel sorry for her...) she is always true to her ideals.

Even though Asa has probably all the reason in the world to just be the most miserable person alive, she never stops being a nice person. Any time she's offered the option to help someone right in front of her she takes it, even if things don't work out in the end and she ends up getting really hurt as a result.

Something that I don't feel many people often realize is that being a selfish jerk is easy... Like, absurdly easy. There is nothing more tempting than just saying "My problems matter more than yours, so deal with it!"

Again, by all accounts, Asa should be the world's biggest supervillain because almost everyone and everything treats her like garbage... And yet, for some reason she still remains a good girl, never betraying her standards.

I'm not sure if it's because she knows how ugly it is to be a bad person and she refuses to be like them, or if the little love she received in life is enough to stop her from falling into temptation, but for whatever reason, she still continues to be one of the noblest heroes I've ever seen, even despite all the misery she faces every day.

But aside from being a noble and kind soul, Asa also has amazing chemistry with her internal roommate, Yoru.

I've always been a big fan of this trope, the two souls in one being, the devil in your ear, the demon that hides a secret power in the protagonist's body.

I liked it in Naruto with the fox, I liked it in Bleach with the inner hollow, and I also liked it in Soul Eater where they have people turn into weapons and have their souls literally connect, or in the Kane Chronicles where they have the protagonists be hosts for the Egyptian gods.

It's just a really fun idea with the concept of establishing a strong bond with another being and having them understand you on a deeper level than most people would. Having someone that knows your whole story, your secrets, your fears, your worries... It's kinda scary but at the same time fascinating because you have someone constantly looking at you and making you realize things about yourself you didn't even know about.

And that's exactly what Yoru is.

She's always pushing Asa to question and challenge her ideals. making her see who she truly is, and what she truly wants. It's like having a psychiatrist inside your head, constantly talking to you about who you are... And they do it in such a charming way.

Yoru keeps going back and forth between being this threatening creature holding Asa hostage to this complete dork who has no idea how the real world or how people work. It reminds me of Shen and Po how Asa goes from being scared of her to just being baffled by her.

These two have such good chemistry, probably the best one I've seen from this trope. I could watch them just talking to each other forever.

I love how Yoru keeps acting like she's so elegant, sophisticated, and gracious always making these exaggerated poses as if she was in a perfume commercial or modeling for a magazine... But when you hear her actually talking she kinda sounds like she's five years old, and you just have Asa looking at her antics and trying to process how to even react to her. It's just great mood backlash that really works.

I know it's weird to like a character so much when these two only had about 10 chapters of existence so far... But even from the little pieces I've seen from them I feel so many things clicking just right for me.

Great chemistry, great ideals, great personality... And I didn't even talk about how awesome their "war powers" are.

I completely adore this duo and I'm very happy with this new direction for Chainsawman!

Favorite character list>>

#chainsaw man #asa mitaka #asa chainsaw man #yoru chainsawman #war devil

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timelostobserver · 2 years ago

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@fallesto continued from xXx

Another human, another mortal... Another dull, dreary creature who soaked itself in self-righteous fury and luster that all shone the exact same. Day in, and day out, every soul he’d witnessed in the end was the same. Simply the weight of their burdens, and the weight of their life before were what set them apart.

It was tiring.

Even more so when he was so rudely pulled from the deepest pits of Hell by mortals seeking boons. Seeking for him to grant them some otherworldly power to do as they pleased.

They’d never get it, not in the ways they wanted it, at least. He was no angel, not any more. He’d fallen from that grace, long before humans truly knew what the Divine truly meant. Even now, they don’t. Ignorant as they are...

The witches who saw fit to pull him from his work were such individuals. Summoning a Demon in hopes of it obeying their whims, obeying their cries for destruction and chaos. Demanding dominion over a Demon and it’s Sin.. His was Pride.. always has been.

Their only cries would now be lamentation as he sent them down to Hell. Their bodies little more than smears on the ground.

But ah... so rare it was for him to walk the world of man. So rare for him to finally leave his desk to gaze upon what had become of the world of man. How much had they changed it from their ceaseless fighting sand bickering. How many more times must it be destroyed for ‘Father’ to finally do something?

Never.. that was the answer.

And now a man stood before him. He was.. quiet, looking through the man, at his shimmering, righteous soul. Yes.. Father would like this sort of person, wouldn’t he. It was blinding, but even in it’s depths, it was simply human. There was shadows to that light. They all had it... Flawed creatures as they were.

“Safe passage? You seem to not understand what passage I even ‘seek’, human.” The demon tilted his head to the side. Demon, devil.. Fallen Angel.. he was many things. Humans always seemed to have a new name for them as ages went by.

“The Gates of Hell do not simply ‘open’ for one who glimmers so brightly as you. Unless you mean to employ the same rituals as the ones who summoned me here plan to do. Those wretches you call ‘Witches’.” The ones who brought him here were dead now. His one way ‘home’ gone. But... well he lashed out in anger, in stress.

One might do the same if they were so brazenly taken away from their work, after all.

“That so?” His eyes narrowed at the man.

“I seek no contest, or fight with you.. I’m in no mood for such things. I am not like some of my brethren who cake themselves in entrails and blood...” If anything, he was tired all the time. A secretary who saw to the souls of the dead and damned. While others carried out infernal, eternal punishment on the souls of sinners...

He was stuck with all the paperwork.

“Very well.. if you can truly offer ‘safe passage’.. then you best know my name.” He placed a hand on his chest, a light bow.

“I am Hades.”

#[Fallesto]#[Reinhard van Astrea]#[Canon-Verse: Hell's Secretary]#[Fallen Angel!Hades]

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arvandus · 3 years ago

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Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY! 1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it. Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught. Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

All of the above?

All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire. Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name. The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

Like his hands. You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight. They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand. They were a thing to be feared and avoided. But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like? You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

Or his lips. They were always covered by his mask. You never, ever saw him without it. You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin. Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive. Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

You bet that part of him was soft too.

The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes. They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes. But they lacked the warmth of Heaven. Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore. Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.

He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own. That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing. Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization. You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates. No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

First impressions were everything to Kai. Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion. As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again. You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips. After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster. And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

The message he sent was clear: adapt or die. When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

So, you adapted. As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path. The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad. Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him. But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either. Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often. But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it. And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth. But it was just a job, right? You didn’t need warmth.

So why did you feel so dissatisfied? Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

You craved his attention. It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care. To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction. The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust. They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were. It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.” You wanted him. At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse. After all, this was Overhaul. Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain. It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.

You began to act different in front of him. Nothing too obvious, of course. After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all. All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance. You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes. Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings. In the end though, it made no difference. There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside. It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening. Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone. No papers remained on his desk. His gloves and plague mask were gone. With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood. It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints. You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution. No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

You should have just left it at that. But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

That should have been your first clue.

But your mental alarms never sounded. Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right? Left for the evening. What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit? With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

That should have been your second clue.

But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment. You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes. It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot. Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded. What if those were his fingers? The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more. You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it. Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

You shouldn’t be doing this. Not here of all places. But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations. After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it. And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him. Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

And dear God, did you need it. You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties. Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He was gone, right? And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left. He’d be none the wiser.

Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get. You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in. A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart. In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill. It felt so fucking good. The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat. You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

“Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic. You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

FUCK. Of course. You forgot to check outside. He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t heard him enter. How long had he been standing there??

“I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask. His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

“I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

“Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

“I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing. His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

“Look at you...” he grumbled. “Disgusting.”

His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression. His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

He was going to kill you. You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less. But you weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to die.

You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare. “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

“Overhaul.”

“Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect.”

“No disrespect?” he sneered. “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him. You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence. He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.

“Clean it up.”

With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.

You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather. Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame. His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you. It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge. He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

Not that you’d try to. You knew better.

When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.

It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life. But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I was just...” you stammered.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

You swallowed and set down the trashcan. He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you. Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head. You stopped breathing.

There was something... electric in the air. You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps. His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face. Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely. Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released. After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes. The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra. Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier. You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

Hope.

Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in. “Follow me.”

Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair. Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

“Sit.”

Confusion.

“W-What??” you stuttered.

“I said sit.” He replied.

You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt. You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you. His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

“Continue.” He stated.

“What? What do you mean?” you asked.

His eyes stared at you knowingly. “You didn’t get to cum, did you?” You shook your head, stunned at his words. “Continue.” He repeated.

“Right here?”

“Where else? It was good enough for you earlier.” His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed. “Continue.”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction. So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access. Chisaki didn’t look down. Not right away, at least. Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent. With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you. It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening. You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.

Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers. It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened. Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat. Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him. You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel. You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him. Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build. It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat. But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least. You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal. Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge. You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat. Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths. Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum. You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit. The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure. Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants. Was he trying to hide it? Because he was failing. Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

“Again.” He ordered.

Your eyes bulged. “Again?”

He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently. You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight. He wanted you to do it again?

At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired. But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you. No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing. It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare. Do it again and see what happens.

Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb. Except for your clit. That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core. With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips. It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it. Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki. Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length. You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly. It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.

You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you. With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith. You wanted it. You wanted to cum so badly. But you wanted to see him even more. So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts. You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered. With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips. The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down. You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum. Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.

He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

“Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes. Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter. He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand. Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him. You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask. Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you. It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

It was the push your sensitive body needed. You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first. Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure. With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

You were given no respite. As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

“Again.”

Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity. You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation. It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out. “B-But... I can’t....”

Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly. He was smirking at you. Cruelly.

“You can, and you will.” He said. A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings. “Again.” He repeated.

Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes. You stared at the exposed skin in awe. It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed. Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine. Maybe… maybe if you were good…

You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit. Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily. Watching him masturbate to you was delicious. He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light. You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger? Maybe both?

You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand. The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to. It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

He continued his strokes, slow and easy. Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him. His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need. It was happening... he was going to cum...

But he never did. Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Or maybe he had his own agenda. But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

The hypocrite.

Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted. But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.

It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation. The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him. You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

“Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged. Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours. Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

Chisaki froze mid-stroke. “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

“Please,” You begged. “Don’t you want to?”

His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before. After all, what you were asking was no small order. You knew how he felt about touch. No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

But that was why you begged. And pleaded. And groveled. Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

“Please...” you whined one last time. “I’ll do anything. I need you, Kai...”

Something about you using his given name did something. His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck. Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat. You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie. He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable. He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence. Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

You waited.

“Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you. Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

“So fucking filthy.” He breathed. The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

“...And needy.” He added.

From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch. But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about. Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

“I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself. His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

You were pathetic. But you didn’t care. You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you. And if he wanted you to beg? To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock? You’d do that too.

His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning. A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first. So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.” He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous. It made you want to cry. You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

But it never came. And his hand never ventured further. Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak. Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words. “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

Chisaki tsked. “You’re afraid. Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk. The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

“Kai!” you protested.

He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered. “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before. Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there. But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade. Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand. His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow. Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between. And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast. His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return. You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft. The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

The temptation was too much. He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust. Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles. With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting. You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore. You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls. His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face. It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic. Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore. But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth. Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

“Shut up.” He growled.

You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him. And it didn’t matter to you either. You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast. All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint. That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

“This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

“So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.” His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted. It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock. Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls. It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep. But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling. Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up. Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

But he never did. Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock. You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state. A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

But he never did that either. Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance. Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes... His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth. It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected. The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

Whatever it was, it was short-lived. He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips. And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow. No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his. But you were quickly learning you couldn’t. His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left. And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?

The sun could never be controlled.

And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

“Again.”

#overhaul x reader #Kai Chisaki x reader #overhaul smut #mha smut #bnha smut #tw:bondage #tw:masturbation #tw:degradation #tw:overstimulation #tw:aggression #bnharem collab

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