#how fucking dense must you be to be unable to understand that when a woman's only value is in what men have decided is beautiful

[a-room-of-my-own]

It's impossible to find a video about fashion history without an airhead who self-identifies as a fashion historian - because she LARPs on week-ends and owns a sewing machine - inserting a 5 minutes tirade in defense of corsets.

[2-dsimp]

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Yandere monster gang

Introducing the Archdevil

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Synopsis: The Archdevil (Rivius) is trying to make it clear to his dense attendant of how much he wants her. But he ends up having a mental breakdown down due to being blueballed multiple times.

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Cw: 🔞MDNI🔞, fem reader! Fingering, humping, slight! Pussyjob, pre-ejaculation, slight degradation, praise, slight gaslighting, creampie, slight humiliation, masterbation m!

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“My dear sweet assistant… Do you have rocks for brains? Or do you truly not understand the predicament that you’re in?”

The Archdevil hissed, holding onto your hips with his claws indenting against the flesh of your body. Bracing his hard tent in between the crease of your asscheeks that bounced upon his crotch with every wrench in the cobblestone rode of hell.

“How can you not notice me having a boner when you’re sitting your delectable ass flush on my lap within this bumpy carriage of a ride?”

His words coated in pure disbelief, his head tossed back in a low whiny voice. His teeth grinding harshly due to the sexual frustration of having an incredibly hot but dense attendant.

Blatantly flaunting your sexy self around him 24/7 with him being unable to take any action except pathetically jerk off in his lonely quarters like a little bitch.

“At this point you must be teasing me! And if that’s not the case then I think me and my dick will cry bloody rivers!”

Rivius huffed, as he flipped up your dress skirt, exposing your panty clad ass to his greedy eyes. While he cursed, fumbling with pulling his slacks down for his erection to bob and wave at the sight of your inviting flesh.

The devil paid no mind to your confused protests, clawed hands jerked off his shaft smearing precum along his length. While his other hand rubbed your pussylips eliciting some wetness to start accumulating against the skin pad of his fingers.

“For Satan’s sake how fucking obvious to I have to be for you to get the hint that I want to love the ever living soul out of you?! You beautiful dumb treasure of a woman”

The hellion ranted aggressively with a peeved expression on his demonic noble features. As he practically fingered you through the thin expanse of your panties dipping a finger or two inside your molten core.

Impatient as he was, he made sure to take his time enjoying the wetness of your cunt sop around his fingers for a few minutes. Before briefly pulling them out in favor for pulling down your underwear for more access.

“Shit, I can’t take this anymore! This is all your fault you know—! The amount of times I’ve suffered from you giving me blueballs is enough to warrant me in getting what I’m rightfully owed!”

Soon enough your underwear disappeared in a flash, only to be replaced with a sharp pointy tip of his dick which glazed your folds in excrements. He’d frantically raw dogged against your wet silt. His arms restricting your movements from how tightly he winded them around your waist and midriff.

And despite his earlier words, being the needy softie he is when it came to you only, Rivius whimpered hushed pleas to sink his aching slimy member inside of you.

“Please, please, please… Let me inside you! I- I’ll even be satisfied with just the tip! My sweet attendant, I truly can’t take being outside you for any longer. Please allow me fill you up”

A couple minutes later he was pussy drunk, as soon as his cock sunk within your heat he was a goner. Spurting ropes of impure spunk within your snatch prematurely as he hunched over your shoulder with teary eyes of overstimulation while he pathetically humped his sensitive dick deeper inside your gooey tight walls. With choked sobs of gratitude and relief leaving his lips from finally getting what he needed.

[wornoutmouse]

Illumi x Poc Reader

I wrote this cause I don't see any Poc readers with hxh like I do mha😫 Also not sure if I'll make this into a story what do you think?

You weren't the strongest nen user in the world, hell you weren't even in the top 50. So if someone were to ask you why you were currently having dinner with the most feared family in Padokea you would have no choice but to just shrug your shoulders. You glanced around quietly eating your meal as your posture became stiff as a board the longer the silence became. You were not naive to the fact that there were many eyes on you both literally and figuratively.

Sitting across from you was a rather large man with long white hair calmly eating his food. He was almost a mirror image of the older man to his left. Although shorter in stature you could practically taste the power radiating from him.

'This must be Illumi's grandfather' you thought

Next to the old man was a large boy with shiny black hair similar to Illumi's noisily chewing while focusing with a mobile game in his right hand. Someone you deducted to be his sister sat next to him in a black and pink kimono quite similar to the one your were forced to wear before arriving, she ate her food quietly. Finally turning towards the lady of the house who's hard gaze you could feel on your face ever since you arrived.

Clearing your throat you opted for small talk trying to lessen the tension. "Who made dinner, it's delicious." The woman clapped her hands together in a gleeful manor, "Do you really think so? The new butler prepared it but I found it a bit dry so they were promptly fired!" She replied voice getting hard at the word fired. It was not hard to understand that fired was Zoldyck for killed. You stared down incredulously at the rice and beef on the table that was practically oozing in tenderness and moisture. "Oh really?" You respond lightly trying to keep a blank face as the woman snapped her silver spoon in half bellowing a obnoxious, 'Oh dear!'

You swallowed shallowly as you watched a servant immediately present her a new fork. You came to a decided conclusion that this woman was off her rocker. You opened your mouth to speak again before a quick sharp pain spread up your leg piercing through all the layers of your kimono. Tensed you pluck some beef into your mouth at the same time you plucked the object out of your flesh. Based on the thin length leading to a round end you shuddered glacing at Illumi who was now missing one of his needless from his vest. This was obviously a warning to stay quiet.

After the meal Illumi ushered you down the hall and up many stairs before shoving you into a dark room causing you to trip and almost fall. You huff angrily turning to your captor, "What is this about Illumi?" You ask flicking his needle towards his face marveling at how easily he caught it gently between his long slender fingers returning it to his place above his heart. "It was only to get you to stop speaking. It wouldn't have been long before my mother threw a fit and that would be rather annoying." He replied nonchalantly his dark eyes staring into yours before promptly turning and walking towards a linen closet.

You combed your hand through your disheveled afro that you were unable to fix after Illumi had made you open his heavy ass 'front door' you personally called bullshit on that one. But had no choice since you were immediately threatened if you refused.

"If you are unable to open at least one of the doors then you are not worth my time and will be disposed of."

Plopping down on the plush bed you gasp as you sank down a few inches grasping at the silk sheets. "What could I have possibly done to upset your mama? I opened 2 of your stupid doors and I put on this kimono just like you asked!" You asked exasperated as you tugged on the kimono that had clung to your round figure no matter how much you loosened the sash. Illumi closed the closet turning with two stacks of purple linen in his hands perfectly folded. "That is true. Infact she was estatic at your efforts at first. But that all changed of course when I told her that I was open to marrying you."

Your heart sunk into your stomach like your body in the bed at those words. You shuttered at the thought of marrying this deranged man and bearing his fish eyed offspring. His monotone voice and blank face only fueled your reasoning as he spoke about marriage as though he was shopping for bread. "What the hell do you mean marriage!?" The only reaction you received was a show blink, "You managed to intrigue me, anyone capable of that needs to be monitored closely and what better way to do that than marriage?" You roll your eyes and gestured universally, "How about, I don't know, literally ANYTHING! Be roommates you know, like normal people!" Illumi looked almost as though he was pondering on the idea before shaking his head

"No, besides it's about time I've settled down don't you think." You dead panned absolutely positive that your ideas of settling down where vastly different. "I'm sure your mother does not approve of you marrying someone you just met." Illumi's mouth twitched up hinting at a smirk, "No, things like that are common around here, her problem is about how weak you are." He paused for a moment waking towards making you mean away as he sets his long arms on either side of you, caging you between the bed and himself examining your features before continuing, "And she's not too keen on mixing different backgrounds into our pure Japanese heritage." Your blink slowly trying to calm your heart beat at the proximity before scoffing looking towards the window to your left so you wouldn't cry in fear, "Offend me why don't you?"

He leaned away plopping one of the purple stacks into your lap, "Let's go shower." He says heading to the bathroom stopping when he realized you weren't following. "Well, come along." You looked at him like he'd lost his damn mind, which he had apparently. "You got me messed up if you think I'm getting in the shower with you Playboy continue your journey and leave me alone." You say rolling into your side facing away from him in order for you not to go back on your choice in fear only to relax at the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing.

FLASHBACK

You gasped in exhaustion as you ran as far as your legs would take you. Flying through the dense forest trying to keep a close ear on the sounds of twigs snapping at your right. 'I'm totally fucked' you thought as the sound easily caught up to you.

You didn't understand how you got into this situation. You were simply visiting your uncle at his new estate. You knew he got his wealth in greasy ways but not enough to put a hit on himself.

You propel yourself off of a branch trying to get higher into the trees. You wondered if your uncle was still alive. He was a more advanced nen user so if he doesn't survive you surely won't. You pushed yourself harder through the trees thinking back to seconds before the ambush.

Your uncle was giving you a saphire necklace that he had aquired through questionable means. The only thing that gave away something was wrong was the fact that the estate was completely silent with no sound of his rowdy partners celebrating through booze and marijuana. At that realization, he ushered you though the bedroom window just as his room door slammed open. All you saw before you jumped was long ebony hair and dull black eyes. You landed on the ground in a awkward way, spraining your ankle but wasted no time pushing through the pain; breifly recalling what your mother said when she sent you here.

"You just learned nen basics so you're not adept to protecting yourself. Your uncle Ricky messes around with dirty folk so if he tells you to run then run baby and don't look back."

So here you were, flying through the air just 2 months after your first nen training, putting everything you knew to the test. After long last, you burst through the trees finally able to see your surroundings illuminated with the moonlight.

You began bounding across the tops before something sharp stabbed through your sprained tendon, causing you to fall far and hard back into the forest.

You groaned, sitting up and blinking rapidly, you try to adjust your eyes to the change in scenery. Standing up shakily, you take a step forward before you feel a large weight land on your back, pushing you face down into dirt and dried leaves.

"There is no use resisting child. Stay still and I will consider making your death quick~" Came a silky voice above you. "Such wasted potential~" Before you could respond, everything went black signalling that your clone had met it's demise. You blinked yourself bringing your consiousness back into your real body. "Wow that nen trick really did work, maybe that old lady wasn't crazy." You mutter wincing at the ghost of pain you felt drumming through your ankle. Once you casted your nen on a pile of twigs, you quickly ran in the opposite direction. Only watching from it's own eyes so the movements would seem fluid.

"I should hurry it won't be long till they realise they were tricked."

You quickly ran into a small tourist town and headed to the nearest bar so you could ease your pain. Sliding onto the stool you wave over the bar keep. "A shot of vodka for the road!" You call out, already grimacing at the taste you'd have to force yourself through. The bartender looked at you and smirked before sliding you a root beer float.

You stared at the ice cream floating in your glass before looking at him like he was crazy. "Sorry sweety but your babysitter said to give you something light."

He gestures behind you, and you turn to look choking sightly as breath catches in your throat.

Right behind you were familiar dull black eyes pearing down at you. This man was tall, at least 6 feet plus with pale white skin, and long hair. He was dressed like a Christmas tree with gold bulbs adorning his green top. "Can I help you?" You ask trying to feign innocence. The man stiffly sat down in the stool next to you ignoring you for the time being. "Barkeep please give me what you gave her." He said point to your float. Once he received his, he looked at it for a while as the ice cream sunk into the root beer. The silence was terrifying but you found yourself getting lost in his sharp features and his calculating hands as they wrapped around the tall glass.

"How did you do your little trick?" He asked pulling you out of your trance. You blink slowly, "What trick?" You ask tensing as his head turns towards you looking into your eyes almost daring you to lie

"I told my colleague to rid the area of any strays in the area. He informed me that he was persueing the 'cute Cocoa girl with the curly hair." He faced his drink swiping the dripping cream and slowly licking it off his finger never breaking eye contact. "So you can imagine my surprise when I find my self persueing the same girl. So I want to know how you did it."

You fold your arms and began drinking your float indignant to the situation. "Sorry, family secret, I can't tell you." You suddenly feel something thin yet sharp pressing into yout neck as a sultry voice chuckled from behind you. "How sneaky of you my dear, tricking me into following a ploy."

The ebony haired man watched your face looking for a reaction and you looked back the best you could without provoking your neck being slit. With a sigh the man drunk some of his float licking the ice cream from his lips, "Stand down Hisoka, we don't want a repeat of last time." And you could only imagine what that meant. There was a chuckle, "Oh Illumi my dear your no fun~" the mystery person replied. But the force was removed from your neck.

[btsiguess]

Self Indulgence (m) - Oneshot

Summary: Professor Yoonji can’t help but notice that the teacher’s pet is looking quite attractive today...

Pairing: Yoonji/Reader

Genre: PWP. JUST SMUT.

Word Count: 2905

Warnings: PROFESSOR YOONJI.....uhhh professor/student relationship which is soooo inappropriate even if it’s lowkey hot... ahhh. Choking, sweet sweet lesbian action

A/Ns: I’m so sorry guys. I’m actually druNK right now. Like so drunk i couldn’t even give it a read through at the end........so please forgive......... everything....

“It’s weird that you want to fuck the teacher.” Seungmin says, eyeing the way your stare follows professor Min around the classroom. 

She knows you’re absolutely not paying attention to the class lecture. The way your hand doodles crudely drawn vaginas on the page in front of you does enough to illustrate that. You’re not quite sure why it was vaginas today. Maybe something about wanting to shove your face in one had something to do with it?

“And what do you all think?” Your ears perk up at your professors words. Dr. Min Yoonji, standing at the front of the class, asking for your attention even though she can tell all of you are bored. “What do you think about cultural hybridization? Is it a reality or simply a connotatively positive term for American imperialism?” You sigh happily at her words. She looked so good when she was speaking dense academic language. You press your thighs together. 

Professor Min was probably somewhere in her mid-forties. Although it was near impossible to tell since she dressed so hip. You had an inkling that she might be queer as well, but nothing definitive. Perhaps that’s why you were drawing pussys on your class notes… hoping she just might see it and know. 

“I think it’s absolutely different! Hybridization is all about globalization.” Juahn says. Of course he does. He was such a fucking brown noser. He had his head so far up Min’s ass, even you didn’t want to stick your tongue there. And that was impressive, because you’d take what you could get. He was wrong too. Just speaking so that Min would look at him. God you hated that stupid fucker. Sometimes he sent professor Min articles. You’re not saying that it was necessarily bad to engage with your teacher on the class work, but you knew that it was because he was vying for her attention. Attention that should have gone to you. And you thought it was disrespectful anyway, since she treated her as if he knew more than her. Like she didn’t have an entire PhD in the fucking field. What a cuck. 

Your sneer doesn’t go unnoticed by Professor Min, who singles you out immediately. 

“Oh? Y/N. Do you disagree? Speak your mind.” It wasn’t unusual that she call on you. The class was relatively quiet when it came to class discussions, apart from you and Juahn. Still your heart fluttered at the attention. 

“I just think it’s hard to say whether it’s either or. It depends how much each culture has influenced the specific, like, new culture. I’m not sure if it’s quantifiable?” Your professor hums at your words and you watch Junahn’s back straighten slightly in aggravation. It was no secret the two of you didn’t like one another. And you had the text message arguments to prove it. You weren’t even quiet of your distaste for the boy in the class and the professor seemed to know it and thrive off of it. Was it hot? Absolutely. 

“Right, well,” Dr. Min says, cutting the conversation short, “that’s all the time we have for today, unfortunately.” The class sighs in relief. “Make sure to do the readings. And Y/N? If you could stay after class. Thank you.” 

Seungmin shoots you a look as a slight flush of red colors your cheeks. It’s a look that says “don’t be excited our teacher wants you to stay after. That probably means you’re in trouble.” ... At least. That’s what you imagine the look would say, if looks could talk. 

You make your way to the front of the room, standing quietly as your professor wipes the board. Once the classroom is completely empty, she turns to you again. 

“Perhaps if you were more focused on class instead of drawing female genitalia in your notebook, you might’ve done better on the midterm.” She says simply. Your mouth drops open. You had done well on the midterm! You’d gotten a 37/40. A 92%. 7 points above the class average. 

“You did well,” Min continues, “but you weren’t the highest grade in the class. You were second. Behind Juahn.” Your blood boils and she smirks—full on smirks—at you. 

“I thought that would get your attention.” She said. “Just understand. I like pussy too, but class isn’t the time to be thinking about it so thoroughly.” You bite your lip as your cheeks color red with embarrassment and slight arousal at the way Min Yoonji’s mouth had curled delicately around the word pussy. 

There’s a slight pause in the conversation as Yoonji lets her eyes watch the way you worry your lip between your teeth. So cute. In Yoonji’s youth, you were exactly her type. Shy, nervous, … totally devoted. If Yoonji had been any younger she would’ve had you already; had your body arching underneath her, your pussy clenching around her tongue and fingers. She knows you have a little schoolgirl crush on her. How could she not know? You practically wrote it across her forehead. She had an inkling during the first semester you had class with her. You had even titled your final essay “Every time I read Kipling I remember why I’m gay” just to get her attention. And get her attention it did… 

Originally, she had done her best to ignore it. You were her student, after all. But Yoonji had always been a bit reckless. It’s that fact that leads her to ask you the worst possible question she could have. 

“Why pussy? Were you thinking about someone eating yours? Or you eating someone else’s?” 

The older women can’t help but smile as your face goes bright red. Yoonji imagined that while you had been hoping desperately to get her attention, you’d never actually thought you’d have it. 

“P-Professor, I’m sorry about not paying attention! It won't happen again!” You turn to flee from the room, but Yoonji catches you gently by the elbow. 

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’re not in trouble. And you didn’t answer my question.” Yoonji isn’t proud of herself for succumbing to your coy temptation. She feels altogether too much like all the skeezy old men that used to solicit her. But she also knows she’d treat you better than all of them. Teach you more than all of them. 

Yoonji should’ve realized that you would be a problem from the very first month, when she had wound up checking the school’s database for your age. You were nearly 23, almost graduated, but that meant little. You were well past too young for her, and she knew it. 

But Yoonji knew she was past waiting. She couldn’t help that she wanted you. She didn’t want to deny herself, either. Yoonji wasn’t a good person, and she didn’t pretend to be. 

“Both, Professor.” You finally say. And Yoonji’s eyes follow the way in which your thighs squeeze together. 

“You know,” Yoonji says, and you try your best to focus on her voice, despite how distracted you are by the thought of her going down on you. “I know you have a little bit of a crush on me.” 

You wish the ground would swallow you whole. 

“Don’t look so embarrassed.” Your Professor scoffs. “I like the idea. Much more than I should. And I think you’ve teased me for far too long, hmm? Why don’t you hop up on that desk there. Be a good girl for me.” You scramble to follow her instructions. Knowing that it’s wrong and not caring in the slightest. 

Yoonji wastes no time pushing your knees apart so that your skirt rides up your knees and reveals your underwear. 

“You’re wet already, I can see it.” She teases. “Is it just from my voice? Do you sit in class all wet like this for me every day?” Her thumb begins to delicately trace over the wet patch on your underwear. Making your hips twitch in desire. You must be dreaming. You must be. 

Yoonji slides her fingers past your panties, and finds your clit with practiced ease. 

“Ahh,” she sighs. “You’re so delicate. So perfect…” She shuffles in between your knees, getting close enough to brush your nose with her own. 

Her thumb, moving in easy circles, is driving you mad. You’re helpless in her arms, whimpering quietly as the woman you’ve been lusting after for the greater part of two semesters begins tracing softly up and down your core. 

You lament briefly the loss of stimulation on your clit, but bite your lip hard at the feeling of your professor’s teasing. With each slow pass of her fingers, her index finger catches against your swollen nub, making you shake with want. 

Something about the way that her ministrations are altogether too light to actually get you to cum makes you crazy. You can’t help but let your mind run wild. You were putty in Yoonji’s hands, completely at her whim. She could keep you here for hours. Just slowly tracing you up and down, watching you pant and sweat, desperately wanting to cum but being unable to. 

“Do you like this, Y/N? I’m hardly giving you anything at all…” She tuts quietly. “No one’s ever treated you right before have they?” 

“P-Professor--” You try to respond but suddenly the girl in question presses two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your head fall back and your hands grasp at Yoonji’s wrist. 

“Can you hear yourself, sweetheart?” Yoonji says, pressing her mouth against the exposed column of your neck. “Can you hear how wet you are? All for me, right?” The squelching of your sex turns the both of you on. You because it’s finally happening, and her because… well, of course she likes the sound of you aroused for her. 

You nod, your breath hitching as she sinks her teeth into your skin. 

Yoonji works her fingers hard within you. Curling to find the spot that has you writhing against her. 

Yoonji knows what she is doing. You’ve clearly never had a good fuck from anyone before, and Yoonji is a bit smug over the way she’s worked you up so easily. She’d never fucked someone so young before. And she had definitely never fucked one of her students. But somehow, she didn’t feel as guilty as she should, too would up in the way you were biting your lip to keep from moaning out loud at the pleasure she was giving you. 

“P-Professor,” You groaned, wanting to say something more, but not having the strength to. 

Yoonji was surprised at how malleable you had become at the touch of her fingers. She felt herself start to get wet at the feel of you around her fingers, feeling the tight clenching which signified your earnest participation in the illicit acts she had finally succumbed to. God, she couldn’t decide whether she should stop, or whether she was mad at herself for not having done this earlier. 

Yoonji decides it’s definitely the latter as you pussy clenches around her fingers, and a small moan presses its way through your lips. 

Yoonji had never been the one to play favorites. She almost always didn’t have preferences among her students. Usually in her courses everyone was so quiet. But you and Juahn had been so vocal. Juahn had frustrated her, putting his nose in business he didn’t belong in, trying to weasel his way into a good grade despite the fact that it took almost nothing to get a passing grade in the course--Yoonji hardly cared, good grades reflected kindly on herself. But you? You seemed to go to bat against the stubborn boy for no reason other than to protect Yoonji’s honor. 

It was absolutely unnecessary, but still made Yoonji smile to herself every time. She didn’t need anyone’s help, but she liked the way you blushed when she called on you. And even more so she was charmed by the fact that you always had something to say, even when you didn’t volunteer for fear of seeming like the teacher’s pet. 

But as Yoonji curled her fingers inside of you, wrenching a moan from your plump lips, she couldn’t help but admire the way this particular teacher’s pet seemed so eager for her good graces.

“Professor,” you gasp with as much brain power you could muster. “Professor, I wanna make you feel good too!” yoonji laughs quietly. She isn’t surprised by your eagerness to please, in fact, she relishes in it. 

“Oh yeah?” Yoonji says, withdrawing her fingers from your heat, drawing a slight whimper from you. “Then get on the floor baby, tongue out.”

You follow her instructions as quickly as you can, and Yoonji wastes no time in shuffling her dress up, just a bit, so she’ll be able to see your pretty eyes as she cums on your tongue.

You look desperate and hopelessly infatuated as Yoonji shimmies her underwear down her legs, and positions herself above you. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” She says, watching you melt under her pet name. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been ready.” You reply, softly wiggling your tongue at her. 

“Have you done this before?” Yoonji questions, tilting her head to the side. 

You shake your head in denial, but the challenge in your eyes shows Yoonji that you couldn’t be more than ready to learn now. 

Yoonji grasps the back of your head and pulls you into her pussy, sighing in relief as your tongue slides along her core. You’re sloppy and messy as you begin to eat her out, but for some reason Yoonji can’t help the shiver that runs along her spine at the unrefined way your tongue caresses her. 

“You’re perfect, baby,” Yoonji sighs, beginning to rock her core against your face. “Can you put your tongue inside of me?” She asks, and you follow her instructions to the letter, just like you always do. 

Yoonji rocks her hips against your face over and over again, allowing your tongue to pierce the deepest part of her. God, she should have been doing this all semester. Even professors need to release built up tension. 

You’re moaning against her folds, as if there is truly no place you would rather be than lapping up the nectar between Yoonji’s thighs, and the thought makes Yoonji gush even more. There’s something so hot about the way you gasp and pant against her pussy, as if there was nowhere else you could imagine being. As if you were all Yoonji’s, ripe for the taking. 

Yoonji is getting close, but as much as she’d love to make you drink her cum, she’s absolutely desperate to see you come apart beneath her.

“Stop.” She orders, and you do, just like a good little slut, looking up at her with those big doe eyes, questioning her. 

“Lay on the floor.” Yoonji demands, and while you seem confused, you follow her directions regardless. 

Yoonji positions herself above you, her legs slotted between your own in order to align your sexes. Then she presses herself down into you, eliciting a sigh from your reddened mouth. It elapses into a groan as Yoonji starts rocking against you. Dragging her pussy against yours just right, so your clits bump against one another over and over again. The two of you are blinded by lust, neither of you can think of anything but the way you feel against one another. The messy wetness dripping down your thighs and onto the classroom floor beneath you. 

You both know you ought to feel guilty for the travesty you are committing. But it’s impossible as you feel the sparks run up your spine repeatedly. God, why hadn’t you both done this sooner? 

Both of you can feel the pressure building. Mounting as it takes over each of your entire bodies. 

Yoonji won’t let you get off that easy though, and so she presses her hand over your throat, cutting off your air supply and you twitch and shake beneath her. 

“Are you gonna cum, my pretty baby?” Yoonji asks you, rocking her hips faster and faster, almost impossibly fast, against your own. “Are you gonna make your professor’s pussy all wet and dirty? Little slut.” She smirks as your eyes seem to roll back in your head, waves of pleasure washing over you one after the other, over and over, until Yoonji releases your throat to hunch over you, her own orgasm rushing in fiercely, allowing your juices to mix and pulse together into one sinful, noticeable puddle on the floor beneath you. 

You’re both panting hard, huddled together, drenched in sweat and cum, when Yoonji takes your face in her hands and kisses you. 

It’s a light kiss, so different from the aggressive way she just fucked you. And as you pant together, you feel the older woman’s body mold into your own. 

“You’ve always been my favorite student you know.” Yoonji whispers to you. “You don’t have to compete with anyone. It’s always been you.” 

You sigh and kiss her again. 

“I love you, professor.” You sigh, not realizing what you’re saying. 

She laughs quietly.

“Maybe we can go to dinner together, sometime after finals.” Yoonji mutters, and you nod. “I mean, finals are only two weeks away. You can last that long without me making you cum, can’t you?” 

You nod shakily. “I can at least try, professor.”

“Alright my darling,” Yoonji responds. “Alright.”

*******

A/N: Again, I am soooo sorry. this is just weird pent up attraction i have to this one professor coming out all over the page ughhiuhjbfsldf bdbfkjedsfncjksdmfn. Tag yourself, I’m the essay title being copy and pasted from an actual essay i turned in to this woman because i was so helplessly into her. FUCK

[icosmohunters]

chapter six : rival

chapter six of cosmo hunters!

word count : 4.9k words

synopsis : after having arrived at voyage inc headquarters, hope is having to do a lot of work in order to help the pirates protect their fake identities. whilst this is happening, she’s also preparing herself for the meeting being held, and lest forget her best efforts to avoid someone from her past. but it always comes back to haunt her, she realized.

returning to a place that you previously promised never to return to can be one of the most difficult experiences of one’s life, notably for someone like hope.

voyage had changed the last time she was here. it looked as if a lot of funds had gone into fabricating a new interior design for the place. and they actually made use of the twenty stories that this place had, with each level housing a different department, some of which hope has never even heard of.

now, as much as she preferred to be anywhere, excited dawn proposed the idea of looking around before the meeting. hope was all against it, walking around surely meant that she might run into someone she was purposefully trying to avoid. that person, of course, being hiro.

the meeting room had been moved to the fifth floor, but she didn’t choose to take the elevator anytime soon. dawn was gawking and pointing towards everything and it seemed like a lot of effort was required from quinn to keep the girl from running off.

“ hope, why are you walking so fast? ”.

soon, she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder and recognized it to belong to vivienne. the bounty hunter turned and looked at the blonde girl, before shrugging. “ they say the unhappiest of people walk the fastest ”, hope uttered, looking down at her gloved hands and adjusted the cuffs of her uniform.

“ are you unhappy? ”, vivienne quickly claimed. with a tone of utmost interest or care, hope couldn’t exactly tell the difference.

“ have you met me? ”.

“ yes but, not properly ”, was the answer hope was given, which took her by surprise for a moment. she reeled her head back slightly and blinked, before furrowing her brows. “ this personality you give off, i don’t think that’s really you. ”

hope snapped back, “ it is me. you’d just like it to be someone else. and you know what, you’re not the first to wish that. ”

hope has had her few experiences with people who seem to have something against the way she acts. she’ll admit that her temper is unbearable at times and her need to insult others are more like a reflex action than something intentional. but it was how she grew up to be. there weren’t any parental issues growing up. she lived in a loving family, who cared for her and one she adores to this day.

but perhaps what causes this coldness and hostility towards people is her need for freedom and the hatred towards conforming to a standard that she wasn’t fond of. and besides, being like this made it easy to push people away. particularly people who made her life impossible to live.

she wasn’t planning on making friends with anyone any time soon. she wasn’t planning on letting her outer shells melt. she was perfectly fine living in the igloo that was her ego.

possibly the reason she shut everyone out was that they felt like they could dictate to her, as if she was easily influenced to be a sweet, docile person so people can step on her and humiliate her as they pleased.

and she wasn’t going to let that happen. she’s seen what being stepped on can do to a person and she doesn’t want that for herself. so she would much rather encase herself within the walls of nebula and go about her space adventurer way with no distractions, no dictators disguised as friends or morally good figures.

so hope shrugged vivienne’s hand off her shoulder. “ if you think i’m walking too quickly, might i suggest speeding up ”, she spat and continued to walk. at that moment, she wished that she could find creed or be near someone she recognized, she hated being around strangers, hated it.

to be fair, after having that altercation, she preferred to be away from them. she couldn’t afford to get angry in this space, because there were cameras everywhere. and if she so dared to show any aggression, guards would be approaching asking what the problem was.

so she put as much space between her and the pirates as she could. and whilst she was in the headquarters, she thought she could do something she’s been meaning to do for a while. scattered around, there are these tall, rectangle like structures posed as small billboards but they can also be access panels.

going up to one, hope removed her glove and pressed her aching hands onto the glowing screen and saw the blue fade to lilac in an instant. a small dialing pad emerged and she typed her pin in.

these services allowed workers to check their stats. usually, she could do this on her own ship but she’s been continuously distracted for the last couple of days and was unable to do anything.

once the screen had loaded, hope’s profile came up. her picture was on the left-hand-side and upon pressing a cog icon, a tab emerged containing all of her details. but gazing over her birthdate and her hometown, she sought out her bounty points. and her jaw dropped.

“ suck on that, hiro, you motherfucker. ”

“ who are you talking to, hope? ”.

and then her heart dropped.

the girl spun around and found herself face-to-face with the very boy she had just insulted. the boy she had been trying to avoid, the boy who did nothing but annoy her and get under her skin with almost anything he did or said. she’s never met someone who has quite the effect that hiro has on her.

the last time she saw him was roughly two years ago, and since then, he’d changed, grown taller and dyed his hair blue and his skin appeared clear and his dimples were still as deep as ever. but it wasn’t as if he smiled to show them all that much. the eyebrows he frowns all the time looked rather nice, too, except she noticed a piercing. which was unusual.

she hated to admit it but it seemed like he’d gotten handsome. and she hated to admit it considering she wasn’t one to talk about people’s looks at all.

hiro crossed his dense arms over his chest. he was wearing the voyage uniform, except seemingly avoided the long coat and chose the semi-formal one with the high collar. the pilot uniform. hope couldn’t believe that he had continued flying despite always having complained about it for years.

he most likely did it because she was doing it as well.

“ hiro ”, the bounty hunter began and let her gaze travel from his head to his toes before she met his eyes once more. “ you haven’t changed a bit. the fuck is up with the piercing? ”.

“ it wasn’t my idea ”, he replied quickly, rising the very eyebrow he had the piercing on. it complemented his asshole of a personality and made him look like even more a douche.

hope found it weird that he did something that wasn’t from his own free will, “ i didn’t take you for the type of person to listen to others for ideas. ” hiro scoffed and rolled his eyes. “ who’s was it? it had to be your own, you’re egotistical enough to think it’ll look good. ”

“ it wasn’t my id— ”.

“ it was mine. ”

who?

hope looked behind hiro and spotted the figure the female voice had come from. it was a young woman perhaps around the same age as hope, but she got the impression that she could’ve been older based off of the red lipstick imprinting pretty lips. she also wore the voyage pilot uniform that hugged her form quite well, she had a nice figure, slim and healthy with curly, brown locks running down her back.

hope stared for a moment and blinked when the girl then approached her and stood beside hiro, rather proximate. yet that’s when it fell on hope that perhaps this was the companion that creed had told her about.

the girl seemed to take notice that neither hope nor hiro was going to make an attempt at introductions so she quickly stepped forward with a pretty smile, “ i-i’m hina koyabashi. i’m hiro’s flight companion. you must be hope, right? i’ve heard quite a lot about you! ”.

“ by that, i’m assuming it was bad things. ”

hina laughed fairly airly, “ i-i’ll admit, most of it was complaining. but he does talk about you a lot and mostly about when you were both training at voyage together. is it true that you were roommates? ”.

hope rolled her eyes quickly, but not before chuckling slightly. “ yes, we were. i feel your pain to some degree, having to share a space with an arrogant prick ”, she spoke, glaring daggers at the boy.

hiro glared back, “ as far as i’m aware, you didn’t complain too much that time. now you’ve really developed a pirate’s mouth. bounty hunting’s been messing with your incredible lexicon, hasn’t it, hope? ”.

“ you know what, ishikawa— ”.

“ now, now! ”, hina interrupted and hope was glad for a moment. as a matter of fact, she couldn’t understand how a person like hiro managed to get lucky with a companion who was both pretty and somehow peaceful. hope wondered just how many times this girl has kept hiro from getting into trouble, whether it be from his reckless actions or dirty mouth. “ the meeting’s going to start soon. shouldn’t we start going? ”.

hiro seemed willing, mostly because he knew that if he stayed there any longer, hope would start bad-mouthing him. “ please, i can’t stand the smell of this perfume ”, he said and mimicked a gag and hope really wanted to punch him.

“ it’s dior! ”, she snapped.

“ i figured ”, hiro stated with a sigh and started to follow hina but then paused and turned back to hope. “ by the way, who are those idiots? they’re really loud. ” he pointed his thumb over his shoulder and upon peeking, hope recognized enzo seemingly ranting to vivienne but he was so loud, it was unendurable.

hope sighed, “ they’re people i recruited. ”

“ you recruit people no— ”.

“  —yes, i do. fuck off, hiro. ”

he stuck his tongue out at her and she managed to spot a tongue piercing and watched him walk off. jesus, he’d changed. he most certainly looked good but his personality was just as spoiled, perhaps even more.

for years, hope always thought that hiro had a personal grudge against her for some reason. whether it be that she tended to score a little higher than him on the ranks or maybe because she was often favored by creed whilst he treated the others strictly during their time training.

but even if their years in training were long gone, hiro wasn’t fond of the idea of discussing whatever feelings were between them. it was a huge distaste but she never found the origin of it. and quite frankly, if he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine by her. but if he was going to be an asshole, she would return the treatment!

“ was that hiro? ”, quinn’s voice came from beside her and hope rose a brow and nodded. enzo really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself, he always had to share them. was gossiping his only talent or something? “ he looks intimidating. ”

“ he’s a childish prick. doesn’t like being even second place and has a personal grudge against me that i will never understand the reason for ”, hope explained. to quinn, she didn’t mind opening up to. and besides, if they saw hiro around some more, she was going to have to tell him about it in case she starts arguing with the blue-haired boy.

quinn hummed, hands behind his back. he was pretty much the most obedient person in that crew but hope didn’t particularly like how quiet he was. as far as she was aware, this guy couldn’t stand her so she wasn’t going to present a friendly persona if the treatment wasn’t going to be returned. universal kindness her ass!

“ but, uh, we’ll be out of here before i can even think about strangling him to death, as nice as that would be ”, said hope once more and shook her head. moving her gaze towards her wristband, she hummed. “ we should start going. ”

quinn spoke briefly, “ the thing is, enzo opted to step out of this meeting thing. it isn’t really for us and we might hear something we won’t like. s-so vivi is choosing to keep enzo out in case he gets angry and starts breaking things. ”

“ you don’t even know if the meeting is about pirates ”, hope said somewhat skeptically. quinn looked down, not replying to her comment. “ but . . . alright, then. as long as you stick to your identities and stay out of trouble, i don’t see why it’ll be a problem. ”

“ we’ll be by the cafeteria, so . . . good luck with the meeting. ”

watching him leave, hope didn’t start moving until the crew had walked off, dawn even turned and gave hope an excited wave and mouthed good luck. in the corner of hope’s eyes, she saw dom turn his head and then saw the bruise, it was purple.

gulping down the guilt, she turned to the stats still on the screen and then logged out of the system, before rushing to get to the meeting.

the headquarters were a maze to the mind of a person who was confused in so many ways. her mind still lingered on the bruise she’d seen on dom’s cheek and how on earth she was going to handle being in the same room as him knowing she’d brought him an injury like that. sometimes, hope really hates her temper. but a part of her told dom deserved it. another part told her she was a true bitch for doing what she did.

taking an elevator down to the fifth floor, hope’s gaze wandered for a while until the doors slid open. stepping out, she found herself in an almost vacant hallway, finding that instead of seeing that circular opening like on the floor she was just on, the walls were closed and long. she wondered just how long it would take to get to this meeting room.

if she could get there at all. creed hadn’t exactly told her where it was and hope didn’t like accessing the system’s mapping system because it often confused her more. and with the lack of people in the hallway, she found that she was going to have to wander until she finds her location.

however long that might take.

hope couldn’t help but whimper under her breath and rub her eyes, she hated the feeling of cluelessness. it often causes an immense panic, especially as someone who often plans ahead, who has everything under control. why did she not follow hiro and hina when she had the chance or asked creed where the meeting room was?

she truly was an idiot sometimes.

“ are you lost? ”.

what does it look like, hope wanted to snap back but the voice was too docile and formal for her to reply in that way. her eyes traveled to the origin of the said voice and widened upon recognizing this person.

this beautiful person. long, dark hair and kind eyes, high cheekbones and a slim figure hidden under a smart voyage agent jacket. hope couldn’t help but notice the pearl earrings she wore and the prettiest necklace resting against her collarbone.

do not panic, hope, but this might be esme lau. unable to reply for a moment, esme offered her a smile, kind and tender before beckoning her over. “ you’re here for the meeting, aren’t you? ”, her voice was perhaps the smoothest one hope has heard, coated in an indescribable sweetness but authority, hope couldn’t explain it without calling her a disney princess. “ i am as well. we can go together. ”

hope gulped and nodded, before letting her head drop into a mild bow. “ t-thank you, miss ”, she exclaimed. she doesn’t recall the last time she’s gotten so flustered over someone but esme lau was kind of a big deal at voyage inc. she rose her head and proceeded to follow her, esme seemed to be in no rush.

“ you can’t come to these meetings too early ”, the woman spoke, as if reading the bounty hunter’s thoughts. “ usually the ones doing the whole thing, the speakers, they don’t even show up on time. usually, they’re ten minutes late. so you might as well take your time, too. ”

hope bit her lip, “ even if the meeting is important? ”.

“ even if it’s important ”, esme repeated and chuckled, her thin arms hugging her pretty figure. “ but anyways, i don’t recall seeing you around. sure, i don’t come out of the office that often but i haven’t seen you. are you new? ”.

it’s a rare thing for esme lau to take an interest in anyone. it’s rarer to see her out of her work and to see her in public. so hope really didn’t want to mess up her chance in talking to the woman. “ i-i’m, i’m not an official voyage member. i had a mild contract. i’m a bounty hunter, my name’s hope ”, the girl explained.

esme’s brow rose. “ bounty hunter? wow, they really called everyone for the meeting ”, she mumbled but then gave hope a charming smile. “ but that’s a delightful name. it’s good to meet you. thank you for cleaning the galaxy for us. the kids on loose these days are crazy. ”

“ tell me about it. ”

“ pardon? ”.

hope quickly caught herself, “ i was hunting someone down just a couple of days ago. uh, you might have heard of him. crimson. he was responsible for the 3019 m-colony blackouts that killed a couple hundred people. well, he was quite crazy. set up toxic bombs as a trap and i fell right into it. ”

“ oh, you poor girl ”, esme gasped, and hope tried not to scream at the gentle hand against her shoulder. “ i hope you weren’t too badly hurt. but that’s exactly what i mean with the crazy theory. power and adrenaline can really get to your head. ” her concerned expression softened. “ but you’re doing god’s work, getting rid of people like that. sure, through barbaric means but there comes a point where jail isn’t enough. ”

“ y-yes, i agree. ”

esme’s hand fell to her side again and hope couldn’t help but notice a rather pretty ring she wore. it seemed to be emeralds, but they had such a unique cut . . . she loved it, though, it was charming and it suited esme. then again anything suited esme.

their walk to the meeting room wasn’t exactly too long. perhaps two or three minutes later, hope’s gaze fell on a double door. one which esme had to open with a pin of some sort. when the doors slid open, hope gasped.

the meeting room was perhaps the largest one she’d seen yet. it was like a lecture room in the universities back home, but it was circular all the way and the stage remained down at the bottom, in the center of the room. it wasn’t exactly too full but it was enough to make hope’s breath to hitch.

esme took note of that. “ the seats aren’t exactly assigned, so you could sit beside me. unless if you have friends here ”, she offered. hope’s heart ached, she was unbelievably kind. esme’s head tilted curiously, waiting for hope’s response.

brown eyes searching, hope caught sight of hina. it wasn’t that hard to spot such a pretty girl in a crowd of plain-looking individuals, and hiro was beside her. so at least she would be dividing hope from jumping on his throat.

but the thought of sitting alongside a loved public figure and get to experience her work up close, it made her nervous but eager. besides, esme was sweet and wouldn’t annoy her like hiro.

mingling with her, though, would look quite uncanny, especially as hope was nowhere as great as esme lau. “ i-i see my friends over there. but thank you for offering, miss lau ”, hope quickly replied.

esme tutted and elbowed the girl on the arm gently, in a very friendly manner that hope wanted to gush over. “ quit being so formal. just call me esme ”, the woman stated but then beamed and nodded. “ but i suppose i’ll see you around. thank you for the lovely talk and walk, hope. ”

hope found herself watching her walking away. her strut was so graceful and she held her head up so confidently but not enough to make her look snobbish. rather, she looked like the most humble person on the surface of the galaxy.

upon drooling over esme for a little longer, hope then took off to take her seat beside hina. before she could even sit down, hina began with the questions. “ were you just talking to the esme lau? ”, she asked hope, eyes wide enough to pop from her sockets.

“ uhm, i ran into her at the hallway. she was nice ”, hope replied.

hina whined, “ i would sell my kidney to meet esme. she’s so perfect. she’s got an iq of two hundred, imagine that! and she’s pretty and kind as well, it’s almost superficial but i can’t imagine her even being mean. ” the girl rested her hand against her cheek and sighed lovingly whilst looking towards the said woman. “ you think she’s married? ”.

“ if she isn’t, she isn’t going to want a ring from you ”, hiro replied swiftly. hina pouted and leaned back onto her seat. hope then paid her own glance towards esme and found her sitting not too far from them, near to the bottom room and she sat among some important looking people, though she stood out the most, possibly because of her visuals or the fact that she was the most relevant person there.

looking away, hope’s eyes went to the different people sat around them. most wore the voyage uniforms, no matter what brand it was. the majority were chattering among themselves, it was like a school assembly with an exciting buzz in the air.

she couldn’t help but let out a small exhale, it trembled for a moment and she regretted not sticking beside esme. because her soothing nature calmed hope’s nerves even if it was a mere smile she gave the girl. now sat among a sea of people, strangers, her fingers started twitching.

beside her, she heard hiro and hina’s voices but she couldn’t exactly make it out. the cacophony of noise engulfed her for a moment, and it was as if her attention was shifting everywhere, at times at the people, sometimes at the stage or down at her lap.

but it seemed like the sound ceased. at some point, she felt something against her ears and looking it up, hope was startled enough to find hiro’s hands shielding her ears. her eyes widened for a moment and she moved to remove them but he smacked her hand away.

“ what are you doing? ”, she hissed. she noticed he’d moved over and switched places with hina, who was curiously looking over with concern.

hiro glared, “ making sure you don’t faint in the middle of a meeting. you’re gonna have to focus, hope. this is important. ” but he didn’t even remove his hands until hope’s hands stopped trembling and when her heart had stopped racing like she was running a marathon.

he saw her facial features soften and then nodded, slowly removing his hands from her and settling back down onto his seat. hope felt embarrassed to save the least. hiro was one of the few people who knew about her nervous antics in crowds when she wasn’t distracted by something else.

at j-colony, she managed to keep calm because of the music and because she was on a mission. here, she was floating in a sea of voices and they weren’t comfortable to listen to. it was loud and messy and not like her music.

frowning slightly, hope simply crossed her arms and tried to relax. but it didn’t work so easily until hiro moved a bit closer and put something in her hand. she opened her hand and found it to be one of those adorable squishy animal stickers with fat belies that you could press and squish and play with. hiro somehow had the cat with the pinkish ears.

“ why do you have th— ”.

“ don’t ask ”, hiro said over her and then paused before clearing his throat. “ it’s my sister’s. i visited her last week and she told me to keep it. ”

“ does it have a name? ”, hope questioned softly.

hiro snorted slightly and looked ahead, “ you can give it one. ”

looking at the squishy toy, hope pressed her thumb against its belly and rubbed it playfully. it was perhaps the best feeling in the world, and the toy was just adorable, she could easily get distracted with it.

“ he looks like a . . . wilson. ”

“ jesus christ, never have children if that’s what you’re going to name him ”, hiro commented with slight alarm, and adjusted himself in his seat before peering down at the toy. “ he looks like a . . . uh— ”.

“  —like a hiro. hiro jr. ”

hiro met her gaze for a moment and rolled his eyes, but hope spotted a slight smile against his lips. “ fine. that’s not too bad ”, he commented. hope sighed and squished the toy again before feeling like the lights had dimmed. her heart sunk but settled at a normal rhythm within some moments.

looking about for a moment, hope noticed that the meeting room had grown increasingly full. to think that most of them were other voyage members. she forgot just how big this corporation was. so after the lights dimmed, a spotlight hit the center stage.

hope was expecting a public figure, perhaps a general or a lieutenant like creed to step on and take over the mic, but her eyes widened when a woman did. and the chatter around her grew tenfold when the lights fell in beatrice yoh, in all her terrifying splendor.

in a white suit, she looked somewhat angelic, but her eyes were hard and her gaze went over the crowd that soon grew quiet. hope found herself gripping the toy a little harder.

“ welcome ”, yoh’s booming voice echoed. hope inhaled deeply. “ i appreciate all of you coming here on such short notice. i am aware that it is a lot to ask many of you to stop your lives and come here. but what i’m about to announce will impact all of us. ”

hope rose a brow when yoh suddenly paused and then stood with her shoulders broad. “ it’s come to our attention, with the increased crime rates around the colonies, that a rising activity has been created. and that we might be looking into a coup d’etat “.

“ holy fuck ”, hope heard hiro mutter beside her. her own brows were furrowed in confusion as the chatter and mumbles around her grew once more. an announcement like this was alarming. she found it weird, for a moment, that yoh mentioned crime rates were increasing . . . she thought that with the number of bounty hunters and officers growing, crime rates were decreasing.

but the woman continued, “ a week ago, it seemed like a particularly pesky group managed to find their way into our base on earth and decorated the place with vandalism after breaking through our security system. they left various symbols on the walls. ” yoh paused. “ and the same thing was just repeated at j-colony two days ago. ”

hope felt like she was going to faint. she had just been at j-colony and to think that she was there possibly when this had occurred. but surely they would have called her in, knowing she was there, knowing she could help, how did nobody tell? how did creed not tell her?

“ whatever the reason for these acts, we’re taking it as a sign of rebellion. or some criminal group trying to attack our ways of living ”, the chairwoman said and looked out into the crowd. hope frowned and gulped slightly, and her thoughts couldn’t help but wander to the pirates.

who were sat outside, waiting for her to return.

pirates she had helped enter the base. giving them false identities. knowing they had bounties on their heads. knowing voyage was probably hunting them.

“ we’re going to find the people behind this. an attack on voyage inc is serious, and whoever is behind it will have to pay with very . . . grave . . . consequences. ”

[aqvarius]

don’t let me go - hyogo kaga

don’t let me go - hyogo kaga

–

“I can’t do this anymore.”

My voice trembles but I keep my expression steadfast as I stare at Kaga. The sky outside is unfairly pretty, vibrant orange and purple with cotton candy clouds drifting by carelessly.

“What the fuck are you on about?” He asks, meeting my gaze with an irritated one of his own.

I pelt the crumpled sheet of paper at him, but he catches it neatly with one hand and zero effort. It infuriates me.

He unfolds the sheet and curses when he sees the contents. It’s a copy of the memo he sent to Mizuki, that SHIBA consultant. It explains everything I’ve been worrying about: why he hasn’t called me to see him, why the smell of some other woman’s perfume hovers in the fabric of his suit, why he’s been unable to stop a smirk from rising to his face when he checks his phone.

Kaga is never like this with any other woman.  It would be one thing if he was just investigating her for a case, but my chest tightens agonisingly when I remember those words etched into my brain.

I could use someone like you. Lord knows you’d be better than my current dog.

I press my tongue to the back of my throat to stop tears from prickling my eyes. She’s more capable of being his partner than I ever will be and the past few weeks of stewing has just cemented this. I look like a fool pining over this man who will never love me the way I do him while I hear Shinonome and Kurosawa laughing over how taken Kaga is with this new woman and see Goto and Soma’s pitying smiles.  

“I got the message,” I spit out tiredly, throwing up my hands in an act of resignation. “Your pawn, your dog, your woman, whatever. I’m done with it all.”

As I turn to leave, Kaga’s glare turns from irritation to something darker. He reaches out and grabs me, one hand clenched around my chin, the other around my upper arm. My heart pounds and aches as he pulls my body close to his in a vicelike grip. He’s held me like this so many times, as both an intimidation tactic and an act of intimacy. He stares me down, looming over me, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with a quiet fury. Instead of meeting his stare as usual, I cast my gaze down to the floor, but Kaga forces my head up with that Iron Claw of his.

My throat burns when his eyes finally capture mine. Looking at him knocks the breath out of me painfully, as though I’ve been hit by a van. I can’t bear to think of him holding another woman like this and the image of it makes those tears I’ve been holding back finally pool in my eyes. The setting sun burning an orange streak of light onto Kaga’s face is so beautiful that the acrid taste of despair floods the back of my throat.

“Let go,” I say weakly. When it comes down to it, Kaga is undoubtedly a one-woman man, and I’ve finally accepted that that woman isn’t me anymore. It should be easy enough for him to set me free.

But instead his grip only tightens as he glowers at me. I hate that part of me craves that bruising hold of his; Kaga has trained me too well to crave his touch and the realisation that it must be harder for me to leave him than for him to let me go fills me with bitter self-loathing.

“Let me go,” I repeat, this time with more conviction, jerking my face out of his hand. I narrow my eyes at him, but I know I must look pathetic, glaring up at the scariest man in the force with teary eyes and a quivering lower lip.

“Who said you could leave?” he bites out, voice low and dangerous.

Before I can reply, he lowers his head to mine and kisses me roughly, heatedly, holding me close to him as if the world is ending. He kisses me hard, over and over again, even as my tears spill from my eyes and wet his cheeks. He slides his hand along my jawline to hold my face again when he turns his head to find new ways for our lips to fit together, but this time his hand is so tender that it provokes the gathering of a fresh new wave of tears in my eyes. How unfair of him to suddenly be so kind at a moment like this. It only crushes my shattered heart more when I taste our kisses, bitter from his cigarettes and salty from my tears. My nose is beginning to become stuffed from crying and I shove at his chest to get some air, but he only pulls away when I’m panting and sniffling against his lips. The angled planes of his face are wet with my tear tracks and when he’s looking at me with that pained look in his eyes, it almost seems like Kaga has been crying with me.

“Who said you could leave?” he asks me again, wrath and urgency angrily colouring his tone.

I resist the urge to wipe those tears from his face. They don’t suit him. “You have her. You don’t need me anymore. Just do us both a favour and drop me like the worthless dog I am.”

That dark scowl returns as he backs me against the wall, but his large hand cupping my jaw is still unfairly gentle as it protects the back of my head from slamming against the wall. I can feel his pulse thundering as he pushes a firm, muscled leg between my own shaky ones.

Instead of replying to my words verbally, he captures my lips with his again, kissing me deeply as if to engrave his body onto mine. It’s a lesson and a punishment all in one, intense and desperate. Every time his mouth captures mine and then pulls back, even for a millisecond, I feel my heart tear as if it’ll be our last. What a dilemma, to be unable to be with this man and yet unable to be without him. Rays of sun-warmed light hit my cheek when he tugs at my lips with his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of our kissing and the gentle wind whispering through the open door of Kaga’s balcony.

As if unable to bear our pained kisses any longer, Kaga drops his head to the junction between my neck and shoulder and sucks on the skin there, nipping with his teeth until I yelp and finally push him away.

Fury and frustration radiating from every inch of his body, he grabs me again and pulls me tight against him.

“I said I’m never letting you go.”

“I didn’t want you to let me go!” His frustration infects me as I cry at him, beating my fists against his chest. I thought I had resigned myself to leaving quietly and gracefully but being encircled by a master interrogator has drawn all my bubbling anger back to the surface. “I didn’t ask you to go after her.”

Finally drawing back slightly, he casts me another filthy glare as he yanks a small notebook out of his suit pocket and thrusts it at me impatiently. It’s already open to a page and my eyes, trained to read his scrawling hand, focus on some encircled words.

Mikoto Mizuki. CIA? MI6? EAC?

Oh.

My head spins as I recognise the acronyms of multiple spy agencies, as if a dense fog of cloud has suddenly vacated my mind but left behind a vast, swirling sky in its wake. Kaga knows I understand what this means, and I also suddenly realise that this is meant to be a confidential, maybe even independent, investigation.

I feel like such a fool, both for distrusting Kaga and for acting the way that I did without even confronting him properly. Returning him his notebook, I look down at the floor mutely and wait for my admonishment, but he pulls me into yet another embrace, resting his head atop mine. This time, I wrap my arms around his back.

“You’re so disloyal,” he mutters into my hair, but he sounds relieved somehow. “Dogs should know better than to distrust their masters.”

“Masters shouldn’t give their dogs reason to distrust them,” I say meekly.

He should be angry at me for doubting him, or at least for not talking to him about my worries. Instead, his previous ire has faded away and he looks down warily at me, like I’m a captured animal that’s about to scamper off back into the wild. And when he kisses me again, my heart swells at the gentleness of his lips pressing softly against mine and his arms holding me, soft yet firm, against him.

Outside, our cherry tomato plant, with freshly damp soil, blows peacefully in the soft breeze.

–

okay so i don’t know that kaga would be yandere cause he defo doesn’t have the dere side down lol

but he’d definitely be PISSED

i feel like there are gaps in here and i should add more but eh 

to the other anon who asked for a similar fic, i’m planning on writing this scene from kaga’s pov :D 

also idk how to title fics sorry

[zane-rapha-the-mun]

The Transformation: Paradigm shift. Ch-2 by Zane Rapha

Chapter 2: Lions in the woods.

    I awoke to pitch blackness with bugs crawling on me, as I moved to shake them off I soon noticed I was under something, it was just as covered in bugs as me, but also moss? I then gave one of the walls a kick only to feel a shooting pain. Solid with no give. But then I kicked the roof and found that it lifted. I kicked again at an angle, and the mostly hollowed out log moved out of the way enough that I could slide out the narrow space. 'It seems I have been placed in a grave of some sort, but why?'      I looked at my new environment and found myself in a densely wooded forest area, thick with paper birch trees and a ground that was mossy and wet. The last embers of sunlight were fading quickly behind the trees, and it was getting difficult to see. It took me a few moments to clear my mind of the groggy disorientation I was feeling.     'I still don't understand how I'm here? How did I arrive here, and why did I faint in the first place.'     Sudden images of the tall man's face turning warped before everything turned to black, and some of being dragged.     'Oh yeah, him. I need to tread carefully. I never know when he will return.'

    A distant sound of lions and bears roaring at the same time echoed through the forest.     'Well, that is my cue to leave.' I thought as I moved swiftly away from the sound, as quietly as I could, but soon the sound of running followed me. I started running as fast as I could. It became apparent I should not have moved to begin with. Something struck me down before running off again.     I stood as fast as I could and started running again. It moved behind me faster than before, striking me from behind so hard I slammed into a tree 8ft away from me. The crack of bones echoed through the darkened forest, as a horrible pain filled my being.  

    It moved closer, sniffing the air. It was a solid black being with bright orange eyes that looked part human, part something else. It moved on all fours and had a snout and mane like a lion, but a tail like a lizard with a fork end.     As soon as it bit into my neck, a large pale figure jumped onto it attacking it. It snarled before shouting.     "Don't kill humans!"     I found myself bleeding out on the ground helpless and feeling as tho I was unable to do anything. I strained my blurring eyes to focus on a sign in the distance as I started to try and crawl away what little I could. I hoped someone could save me, but I don't think there is much hope for me.

 Suddenly, the pale man startled me by silently standing there over me. I laid there begging for mercy with my eyes as my voice had given up on me.     With one hand he slowly removed his hat and bowed before me, as tho he was greeting me. I saw that where his right eye should be it was smooth skin as though, there wasn't even a socket.     He said, "Greetings, I'm glad that you're awake now. I hope everything was to your liking this evening sir. I did try to help you as much as I could, but I sadly don't understand your kind anymore."  

    Something shot through me and slowly lifted my body off the ground. The agonizing pain forced a shriek from me. I was suspended in the air, blood pooling on the ground below me. My body became limp and cold, and I knew death would be coming soon.     "I'm sorry that hurt you more then I intended it to, but your kind usually feels nothing from this if I recall. Wait, or do they? Hmm... I forget." He said, his voice seeming to get further away with every word.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    "Morningstar, can you get my coffee?" Asked Maxwell.     "Hey Morningstar, can you get me some coffee too?" Agent Sian asked.     "Sure, no problem," I said.     While walking to the coffee machine, I noticed the Director leaving and I waved to acknowledge him as he walked out, then returned to Ace Director Maxwell Horren with his fresh cup of joe.    "Here is your coffee, sir," I said.   "Thank you, Morningstar. You keep this up and I may have to give you a rase." Maxwell said.

   I returned to my computer passing Sian and handing her a mug with black coffee before continuing to work.    After a short time, I noticed a quiet buzzing sound in my ears, which turned to static, like an old television. Soon, the sound got louder and increased in intensity. I began to feel nauseated and dizzy.  I ran to the bathroom with a gut-wrenching feeling overcoming me.     Then, a terrible headache began in my temples, and my breathing became weak and shallow, making me feel lightheaded and starved for air. I hovered over a toilet, with water in my mouth as nausea continued to overcome me. It wasn't long before I knew I would faint if I did not lie down. I closed my eyes and sat back against the stall door and rubbed my temples with my fingertips.

    The sound of gunfire filled the air and a sense of dread fell over me.     "Oh, Shit!" 'What the hell just happened?' I thought to myself as tried to stand. The pain in my head and stomach twisted around from the sudden movement. I walked to the doorway of the restrooms and looked around on the office. An eerie quiet filled the air.     I stumble out from the restroom searching for a wall to grasp to when I fell past a cubical and see red chunks and blood everywhere.     'Maxwell's head is missing.' I thought in shock. My body turned and my eyes darted to Sian's cubical. 'She's gone. Maybe she ran to get help.' I thought to myself as my eyes rested on the sealing. A shadow moved against the light, but by then I started to feel the fade as I fell asleep.

    I awoke to the sound of a voice in the distance, my eyes remaining shut against my will.    "Hey Kate, I'm so sorry about our plans, something came up, and I'm going to be busy all day tomorrow, but I'm coming over to visit you tomorrow night instead, bye."    "HEY! ARE YOU OKAY? ...Buzz."     It then cut out and with it the sound of something being set down.     "Don't worry, this is only a formality. Aedi on evah uoy. Oreh a era uoy kniht uoy ekil gnitca era uoy ereh, Tey. elttil os wonk dna hcum os kniht uoy nac. Woh namuh citehtap a ylurt era uoy." As they spoke it became hard to think, the words became another language to me.

                                           ~~~~~~~~

    My eyes slammed open and the thoughts that it was just a dream came flooding in. I sat up and placed on my slippers before walking over to a stained wooden desk. I reached into fountain pen drawer to retrieve the secret key stashed inside a hollow fountain pen. Then I reached behind the retractable keyboard tray, to locate the key latch for the locked file box. I opened the file box without looking because experience with my daily writing exercise made me familiar with the lock by touch alone. I retrieved my book and began to review my last few entries.

    |                           -12/3/2021-     | It was strange last night. I swore I saw something for a second. I lied when I called it in. Now it's nagging at me. I should have given them more. Why ask me to go home in the middle of a suspect report? That is not protocol.     |                           -12/4/2021-     | I didn't expect Max to blow off my concerns like that. He told me that I was working too hard and that it was making me paranoid. I pleaded with him as someone I consider my brother, he only gave me a worried look.     |                          -12/5/2021-     | Today I asked if I could return to the crime scene with a team. I got turned down by the Director who said, don't waste our resources on paranoid delusions. The nerve of him. Fucking red tape.     | Update: I get it now, I went back to the scene and it was cleaned. The walls were painted over. The ground had cement freshly laid in the ally. But they missed something. A kid was playing outside and I asked him if he saw anything strange and he said his older sister did when she was sneaking out last night. I spoke with her and she described a truck unmarked with men walking around in all camo outfits with black vests, the vests had a print in the top right of it. S.O.I.R.

    'Right. I need to research S.O.I.R. I'm sure the will come up in F.B.I. database.' I thought to myself as I put away my journal. The feeling of eyes on me grew as I put it back in the lockbox, locked it and stashed the key back in my fountain pen.     "That is one way to hide something you don't want people to see." Said a female voice from behind me.     I tried to turn to face the woman but as I moved a loud ringing filled my ears. "You don't have to see me, to know that I'm there. You are one of us... after all. Don't worry. It will pass. This feeling of pain." She said from behind.     I got out my journal. I found the pages 12/3/2021 through to 12/5/2021 and tore the pages out. The feeling of pain with each page being torn as though with the pages a piece of my mind went with it. The days must disappear. I cannot keep a record of this. I know in my mind that this is not my thoughts but I must burn the pages.      After burning my pages I returned my journal back to its proper place, hidden in my desk. I feel very tired, and lie down on my bed and fall asleep. As my eyes shut I think to myself 'How are you doing this to me?!'

                                                   ~ ~ ~ ~                                               December- 2001

    I open my eyes to a cold and immaculate all-white padded room. The fluorescent light above me flickers every now and again. I stair up at it with an empty feeling as I lay strapped to the table. Cordes run from arms and chest to a monitor and IV drip across the room. The room was void of sound.      'This was normal. I was always there. Never a time where I left the room.'     A buzz rang at the door and it opened. One by one, men in all-white came and loomed over me. One of them stuck me with needles as the others reviewed the monitor and wrote it all down. One of them entered with a brush a washcloth; he bushed my hair and cleaned me before wrapping my feet and hands so I couldn't scratch anyone. Then he left, and soon after their leader came in. He shined a light in my eyes before looking over at the monitor; his face twisted into worry.     "Take him off everything, we need to keep him from hurting himself." He commanded the other men in all-white.    "Yes sir." said one of them as he turned the machines off. They pulled out the IV and removed the tags for the monitor.     "Good now, where is it?" The lead scientist inquired, to which the other scientists moved to the side allowing a nurse to enter with a large needle.     "The other compounds have already been injected, this is all that is left, sir." She stated as she moved to inject.     I cried out, "Mister, please stop. I implore you!"     "I'm afraid not, see, you are our most prized mystery. You must realize this by now, considering you are such an intelligent boy. Now please be calm Zane; this will end shortly." The lead scientist stated.     Suddenly a sharp pain felled my being as the needle entered and the contents were plunged into my body. I started crying, tears ran down my face as they just watched with pen and clipboard in hand. My chest pounded harder and harder with each beat.     'Please let me die this time? Will it end?' I thought as with every breath grew harder to draw. Each of the men in white wrote on their borders as the pain continued to grow inside me. They finally looked up and walked out one by one. As the lead scientist looked back at me and shook his head, a look of sadness formed.      "You still hold on to this body even though it only damages you. I honestly do not understand you." He then turned and left the room. At the doorway he stopped to talk with a woman; what he was saying was faint. She then entered the room and closed the door behind her. She was short and don the same all-white outfit with lab-coat, but she also had on a black baseball cap that was placed on backwards.     She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of garden cutters. "Don't worry, I will help you, child. You don't deserve any of this..." She said before she started cutting on the straps. "Your name is Zane, right? It's going to be okay now. No more tests. I promise you."      My pain remained as she cut me free. I could not move very well thanks to the years of immobility. She then unraveled the wraps from around my hands and feet before lifting me up to carry me out of the room. We entered into a long hallway that was all-white with a blue line running across the floor, and doors marked with numbers in red.     "My name is Cora by the way... You are so small and light. They don't feed you enough, you poor thing. Your family would be sad if they could see you now." She said as she walked to the end of the hall and turned to meet the stairs before going down them.     "I don't have a family," I said quietly. She looked at me for a minute before smiling.     "You should have some... If not, I'll be your family, and I'll make sure you are never unhappy again." She said, giving me a smile.

     After a bit more walking we were outside and there she had a large white stretched canvas bag. She then hugged me with one arm while using a free hand to open the bag before slipping me inside it. She then had me hold papers and folders that were originally inside of it, to conceal myself.    As she walked she assured me that they would think nothing of it before she reached the checkpoint.     "Good evening Doctor Morningstar, I see you're taking your work home with you again?" Said a man's voice.     "Yes, just a few forms and spare parts from the Robotics lab." She replied.     "I see, well I'm sure you know the protocol by now." He returned.     "Yes, the release forms." She said before placing the bag on the floor gently and writing on a piece of paper. The guard gave her a nod and she lifted the back and walked away from the checkpoint.     "See not so bad now, was that?" She asked before placing the bag in the passenger seat of the car. I crawled up to poke my head out of the bag to be greeted with a very nice car. It had sets lined with black leather. It was pristine as though it had just been driven off the car lot. "I see you like my car. It's fairly new so it still has the new car smell that people love." She smiled at me before turning the car over.       "Thank you!" I mumbled with a slight smile.     "Don't thank me, please. You do not deserve any of what they did to you. I'm just sorry it took me a year to find out about you. If I knew, I would have helped you a lot sooner. Screw the job! Those Fucks should know better than to use a kid for experiments, I mean Fucking ay list fuck wads. Excuse my tongue. Don't repeat that, please." She said giving me a saddened expression.     "Things are not always what they seem," I replied. She gave me a glance before returning her eyes to the road. A saddened look twisted on her face into anger as she thought of what they were doing to him for years.

                                                ~~~~                                          -2 year later-     Children laughing and playing at a park as cars roar past sending gusts of wind to lash out at the pedestrians walking on the sidewalks. A petite woman with short black hair carries a bag of parts she just stripped from an old junk cars and parts lot. She is pleased with herself for the amazing stuff she managed to get her hands on. She made her way slowly to the new house she and her son had just moved into.     Her son is a very smart young boy who won a Guinness World record for highest IQ and is considered a Child prodigy.     He was walking home from school when he saw her returning from her venture. She smiled when she saw him and quickened her pace she placed her things on the ground and opened her arms to welcome him home. He ran to her with a smile on his face as well.

    'No don't make me live through that night again. Anything else but that.' I thought to myself.

    "Soooo... how was your first day at school today? Teach any of the Teachers anything new?" She said with a smirk as they sat at a table eating dinner.     "You know it would be rude of me to try and educate the educators. I want them to like me." He said before looking down at the table. "I have no friends still."     "Don't worry about it honey, just give it some time. You'll make friends I'm sure of it. People just have to get to know you." She said with a smile before sitting up and kissing him on the top of his head. She then grabbed both their plates and took them over to the sink and started washing them. "Look there is a park not far from here, I passed it on my way home. You should play like the other kids, you'll find lots of friends that way. If you want I can take you tonight before bed so you can get used to the idea." She turned and gave me a smile as she put away the dishes.     "I would like that." He smiled.     "Very well then, let's not waste daylight!" She said walking over to a closet and pulling out her coat and his. He jumped down and sprinted for the door grabbing his coat out of her hand as he passed her.     "Come on mom!" He said before opening the door.     "Okay Zane, calm down. Wow! I don't think I have ever seen you this excited." She said with a smile on her face as she followed after him.     She soon reached the park seconds behind him as they both ran. He ran to the swings and sat on them before kicking his legs.     "Mother, can you push me please?"     "Of course." She said walking over to behind him and giving him a kiss before pushing him. His smile grew as she pushed him higher and higher.

    'No stop it!'

    "Did you have fun?" She asked as they walked back.     "Yes, I did! Lots of fun and you know why?" He asked.     "Why?" She asked him with a pleased look.     "Because you are the best mom in the world." He answered with a grin.      "Oh you are silly, you don't know that! There are millions of moms and some do a lot more for there kids and have a lot more on their plate. I'm just your mom so I seem special to you." She replied before giving him a smile. "But, it is sweet that you think so much of me."     "I love you." He said quietly before he heard the sound of someone falling to the ground.    "Mom?" He turned to see her laying on the ground unmoving.    "Mom... Get up please." He said quietly, tears running down his face. He looked her over with no clear sign of injury.     "Are you awake?" He asked before placing his hand on her neck. He felt no sign of movement, not a breath nor heartbeat. He felt a sharp pain but he was not hurt. His breath grew unsteady and tears ran down his face. He heard a woman in the distance scream and yell call 911. He laid down next to her, knowing she would be taken away soon. He hoped a doctor could save her but something told him she was gone.

                                   -The next morning.-     "Can't believe it. She was gone just like that?" A woman said to a man who sat beside her.     "Yeah, she apparently has been having blackouts every now and then at work. That's a big sign for tumors." The man that was with the woman said.     "I just can't believe she had a child and never told me." She said to him.     "You shouldn't be surprised. You did tell her you never wanted to see her again, 8 years ago." The man said in a mad tone.     "I didn't mean it. She's my sister, I loved her to death. I wish she had told me. I never would have retired it I knew. Now I can't keep him. I simply can't afford it right now." She replied.     "Milly, yes you can if you stop buying so many new shoes and going to other countries for weekend trips. That stuff will cost you more than that kid ever will. Plus he will get a check since she was retired, she died and he is still a child. Think about it. I could raise him for you. You wouldn't lose any of your freedom." He stated, trying to reason with her.     "Excuse me? No, I'm not taking him on just so you can yell at me when he does something stupid. And trust me, he will! He is 5 and he will be 6 in five days. His mother just died in front of him. He has no friends, so no peers to rely on for comfort. You think he won't be messed up from all this and have a punkass rebellious phase where he commits crimes?" She stated loudly. The cops looked over at her from down the hall.     "Say that louder could you. I don't think the kid heard you yet." The man replied with sarcasm.

[alien-versus-yakuza]

TERRAFO REREAD: VOLUME 12

So yeah,the moment arrived. Here it is, in this volume is the chapter that DESTROYED me when i first read this manga. But at the same time, is one of my faves because of its cover and all of the Michelle/Akari moments 

As always, do not expect a reliable summary in here and beware of spoilers from volume 12 onwards.

First thing Amelia worries about after waking up is if they were able to get in contact with Earth. And I think this says a lot about her as a character. She doesn’t worry about her state, even though she was about to die. Amelia just want to know if she was able to help her teammates. 

Mainly sharing this as a reminder, because in future volumes Daniel tells Michelle her voice was the reason they were able to save them. It’s because of this, the moment Amelia was able to fix the transmission, the one who sent a message to Germany and could explain the situation was Michelle. As fort the rest got in contact with Earth during 10 seconds, Shokichi’s not sure if they reached USA or Japan.

So we have to thank Amelia because they were rescued due to her.

I hate Kai, Bao and everyone inside that ship with all my might. But I must say I still like its design

I HATE HIM, LIKE REALLY HATE HIM. FUCKING SEXIST AND MISOGYNISTIC BASTARD. FUCKING COWARD THAT ONLY USES DIRTY TRICKS BECAUSE HES UNABLE TO DIRECTLY FACE ANYONE CONFRONTING HIM. IF HE WASN’T FOR HIS FUNGUS POWER HE WOULD SPEND THE WHOLE SERIES CRYING UNDER  A BLANKET BEGGING TO BE RESCUED.

Sorry but just thinking about him, what he has donde to Michelle, to Akari and what he’s doing to Shokichi, puts me in a bad mood. I can’t stand him. Nope. 

I really like this drawing of Liu. Till this moment he has been shown as someone evil and suddenly, this. His human part. Crying for Akari. 

This part confused me a lot the first time I read the manga but now that we know that his prioriy all this time was to keep Akari from being captured by China, betraying both the ANNEX project and his own country. Now we now what this means, how he’s asking his enemy  (Joe) to save Akari from the Kuzuryu, because he prefers him to die rather than be used.

If there’s something I really like from this series is this kind of details. How something so small that doesn’t seem to have any importance, is in reality telling us something about some character that is going to be relevant in the future. 

Headcanon: Bao has a thing for hitting buttons with all his might.

Aaaaaaaaaan let’s start with the pain :________________________D 

BEWARE, BEWARE!!!!SHAMELESS SHIPPING FROM NOW ON, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED, SHAMELESS SHIPPING!!!!!!

it hurts me to see Michelle like this. The whole series even when she’s sad or angry she at least has a vivid expression. She’s a fighter, even on the verge of death. But here she’s utterly defeated, she just can’t keep going. Michelle has given up, and it’s quite clear just by looking at her expression. We can’t blame her she’s been supporting everyone and now it’s completely overwhelmed. She’s the kind of person who always want to protect the ones around her,and in her current condition that’s not possible. Michelle’s not used to depend on anyone so when she feels she can’t be dependable anymore, she breaks down.

Remember when some volumes ago I emphasized that I love how Michelle and Akari support each other? Here is another example. As she has  given up and Akari’s condition is not as bad as hers and he’s aware of that, he’s the one getting up to fight. 

And when he decides to fight for her, the only think she can do is ask why is he doing that. let’s remember that Michelle was someone who grew up alone, not having a lot of friends, focusing in her studies, her future, the mission to avenge his father. She’s always been alone sho for her it’s inconceivable that someone wants to risk his life for her. Michelle is someone who grew up with the idea that she doesn’t deserve to be loved, and Akari is proving her wrong.

Akari telling Michelle that she shouldn’t say sad things while he’s crying. That it’s soo sad for her to die on her birthday, or dying wihtout loving anyone, that oveall you want her to live...That’s beautiful. But that’s also stupid, you moron, she loves you! Dying without loving someone, he says, you dense idiot , I say. 

Also you it would’ve been great that you just told Michelle that you love her, that’s enough explanation. Thank you.

IT. KEEPS. HURTING. Since the moment he decided to protect her she has been looking his back.That’s why she was the only one who realized, and even though he just told Michelle he wants her to live, she acts instinctively to save him. She doesn’t think, she doesn’t say a think, she just let he body and her reflexes work instead.

Also, it’s great seeing in a seinen manga a woman jumping in front of a man (who is not her son) to save him for a change. It’s unsual.

These two pages are the ones that always make me cry. Even more than the next one that I’m going to share, when she “dies”. Akari was the first person Michelle felt like hugging, and it has been like that since the day they met. And it was not insant love, it was becase she sees herself in him. They know and understand each other in a way anyone else can’t. 

She, a similar way he did just some pages ago, thinking he is the person she wants to survive the most, it’s a prove that she love him. Romantically or not, let’s leave that aside for a moment, but she really loves him. 

Michelel is so happy because she thinks she has been able to save him, she uses her last words to tell him to not cry for her and to run away; and her last strength to caress his face and smile at him. She’s amazing and deserves all the good things in the World. 

Akari is devasted. He doesn’t want to believe it (no one wanted to believe this when it happened, you should have seen me). And even if this double page is not as sad for me as the previous one, it’s still devasting.

That’s it. Here is when something inside Akari breaks and he completely loses control. I hate seeing him like this, mainly because I can get an idea of all the pain he’s feeling because of Michelle’s death, an he does not deserve it. None of them deserves this.

Headcanon “Bao has a thing for hitting buttons with all his might”: confirmed. 

[deepseawritings]

After re-reading that one piece I wrote almost a month ago, I decided I don’t completely hate it, so I’m posting it now. A piece of original fiction, written becasue I wanted to write something sort of spooky and based on the area I live in (aka: everything is a figment of my imagination, except for the places depicted). 

Disappeared

Crossing the quarantine line didn’t bring any change to the sights. It was still just pines and more pines at both sides, and the road kept winding further up the mountain. Sandra was glad she’d taken a Dramamine, this road had awful curves and bends and otherwise she’d be green around the gills.

“Has the boss briefed you? About…?” Her designated driver coughed uncomfortable, unable to finish the sentence. Must be a new guy, Sandra couldn’t recall his name.

“Yes, he has. In general lines.”

In fact he dragged her out of her deserved vacations, cashing in a favour from a year ago and promising her to get those days back, and more, whenever she wanted. She could have been sunbathing on Ibiza, yet she said yes. A disappearance case? Completely her specialty and it must be something huge for the freaking superintendent to be this unsettled. He’d practically begged to her. So here she was, still in civilian clothing and with her luggage in the back seat.

“So why the quarantine line and not the usual police tape?” She asked hoping to get some details. He hadn’t been much of a talker up to this point.

He mumbled about how the inspector would inform her of everything. She thought about informing him she was an inspector too, but he was nervous enough without her usual biting comments.

Sandra observed the narrow road, entranced by the looming pines on both sides. She’d heard this forest had burnt on many occasions, yet to her it looked dense like a jungle. So different from what she’d seen around Barcelona. The car passed by the husk of a house, full of graffiti and climbing vines, and then, at the behest of the robotic voice of the GPS, they took the road on the right. The only turn in this road so far. There was a faded sign with a name she didn’t read, in front of an unkempt vineyard patch. Not much further ahead a sizeable field broke the monotony of the flanking pines.

“You’ve arrived to Elm’s Field” announced the GPS. Her almost mute companion pulled up to the other two cars parked by the field. Two uniformed persons were talking to a man she recognized. Inspector Morales. He didn’t seem overly surprised to see her. On her part, Sandra was surprised to meet him here; she had secretly hoped to never see his bearded and condescending face again. He shook her hand like they hadn’t parted in bad terms the last time they spoke, and even looked mildly pleased to see her.

“Inspector Sandra Costa. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here.” If he was bitter about it, he was making a good job of hiding it. Strangely enough, he looked sincere.

“You already met Sergeant Garcia,” Morales gestured at her driver, then at the uniformed couple in front of him. “And they’re officers Paredes and Segarra, from the local police.”

The young woman smiled and waved at her, while the muscular guy shifted uneasy and scratched his arm under Sandra’s passing glance.

“Have you finished cordoning off the area?” Morales asked them.

“Yes sir,” Paredes nodded and her dark ponytail swayed like a whip. “Although it was a pain in the ass to cordon all the fucking mountain.”

Officer Segarra facepalmed and hissed “Laia!” between his teeth, and she replied with a mocking “Pol!”.

Sandra chuckled quietly and pretended to not notice Morales’ disapproving frown. She missed that camaraderie born after years of working with the same partner.  However, she’d come here to investigate a disappearance, and standing there would not help her solve the case any faster.

“Who’s the missing person?”

A sepulchral silence fell over them, all looking at her with varying degrees of nervousness and confusion.

Morales cleared his throat. “All of them.”

“What? What do you mean all of them?” Their faces told her louder than words that no, it wasn’t an elaborate prank. “How many people are we talking about?”

“The cordoned area includes two residential areas, a handful of farms and cottages, and an already abandoned village.” Officer Segarra ticked off fingers as he listed the places. “About a hundred people in total maybe.”

This was… catastrophic. No wonder the boss had sounded so worried when he called her. The press was going to have a field day with this, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the central government intervened soon.

“Corpses?”

“None so far,” officer Paredes informed.

Sandra licked her lips, thinking. “Has a terrorist operation been ruled out yet?”

“Terrorist cells leave bodies behind. Evidence.” Morales snapped at her. He was out of ideas and in charge, she realized. In other circumstances, she might pity him.

A soft rain started to lazily pour down, barely enough to wet the grass. Calabobos, her mother called it. Fitting, she felt a bit dumb right now. Was there even a crime if there were no victims to be found? Of course, the possibility of all these people packing up and leaving unnoticed was laughable, but a hundred people disappearing overnight was also ludicrous. And worrying. Mostly worrying.

“P-perhaps we should carry on with the programmed search, inspector Morales?”

A sensible suggestion, made by Sergeant Garcia of all people. Sandra had completely forgotten he was here, he occupied so little space he quickly became part of the background. Sandra got in the car with the local police officers, claiming she wanted to ask them some questions. It wasn’t a complete lie. Best of all, her new car companions wanted to talk to her too.

“Can you believe this has gone on for days without anyone noticing?” Officer Paredes commented from behind the wheel. “Some of these people have been missing for almost a week, apparently.”

That was– this was a mess and Sandra was regretting accepting the case. “Is this the first search done here, officer?”

“Apart from me and Pol cordoning off the whole mountain, you mean? And none of that officer thing please, just Laia and Pol.”

“Why a quarantine perimeter?”

Laia chuckled, a joyless sound to convey her opinion of that idea, so it was her companion who answered. “Cover story is that there’s been a toxic pesticide dump.”

As cover stories go, that one was neither particularly good nor bad. Wouldn’t hold for long, tough. Yet it was understandable Morales would be trying to keep the details from reaching anyone outside the investigation.

“Anything else?”

“There was a quick superficial search this morning on the other residential complex. Some of the farms in between too.” Laia had no problems telling her anything she asked about and Sandra loved her for that. Teamwork required freaking cooperation Garcia, goddammit.

The neighbourhood, if you could call it that, was a sparse collection of houses scattered around without a definite order. And people actually lived in this backwater place? The closest spot of civilization was eight kilometres away. Sandra looked intently at the houses from her back seat position. In this section all were clustered together at one side of the road, surrounded by trees and thick bushes, dormant and empty, waiting for owners who had vanished.

“My aunt used to own that house there, but only came in summer.” Pol pointed to a compact two story house. Despite the air of neglect wrapped around it, one could imagine it had been a pretty house back on its day.

The road forked and Laia kept on the main path, until they reached a curious building with a cement terrace and what looked like an old stage. There was a car and a moped parked in front of it. No signs of life around the premises, though. Morales’ car stopped, so they did the same.

“This is supposed to be the local bar.” Morales strode to the short flight of stairs before the door, and Garcia trotted after him.

Being closer to it, Sandra beat them to the punch. A petty victory, but enough to appease her competitive nature for now. She knocked on the metal door. The sound echoed on the presumably empty inside and nobody answered. She looked at the rest of the group, shrugged at Morales and pushed forcefully. The door opened without resistance, groaning dramatically with the movement.

She stepped into the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the half darkness. Nothing out of place at first glance. She paced carefully around, taking into the apparent normalcy of the room. In fact, it seemed like a patron had ordered a beer and was about to return. The glass bottle on the counter remained full to the brim. A single receipt was caught under the bottle, the paper still soggy. It disintegrated when Sandra tried to pick it up.

The door to the covered balcony was unlocked. The secluded space could be considered cozy, with its wooden tables and decorative plants, were it not for the message painted on the window’s glass.

IT’S AWAKEN

The ink used was of a suspicious brown-reddish colour, thick and clumpy. And undoubtedly scribbled by a human finger. Pol poked the substance with a pen he produced from his breast pocket.

“Not blood,” he determined. “It’s more like goo?

Nothing else of interest on the inside. Morales followed her outside, while the other three investigated the kitchen in depth. Sandra had taken a cursory look at it and knew the most interesting thing they could expect to find was a mouldy fridge. Too tidy in that dusty way of places nobody’s been in for a long time.

She lit a cigarette and walked in silence to the left of the bar’s premises. Morales dogged her steps, the gravel crunching beneath their feet. God, how she wished he would stop! She needed to process her ideas about the situation, and she though better while not being observed constantly.

It had stopped raining but a thick fog was rolling in. The child’s park was an eerie sight covered in mist and so empty that Sandra felt like an intruder. A cracking noise startled them, the rustle of something scurrying through the underbrush of the surrounding forest. Probably it was just a rabbit, or a fox, or any other critter. Animals didn’t give a damn about police cordons. Morales was avoiding her gaze now, pretending he didn’t jump at the sound like she did. Bullshit.

“What did you find during this morning’s search?” If he was surprised she knew about that, he didn’t show it.

“We just looked for survivors. Found nothing. The farms were empty too, even the cattle is gone,” he sighed, looking tired and years older than he truly was. “There’s also the candles found on the abandoned village, but I was told that’s normal.”

Well, she didn’t consider it completely normal. “Oh?”

“Hey inspectors, we’re done!” Laia shouted from the bar’s door.

Morales turned around and Sandra crushed the butt of the cigarette under her foot. Nothing to see here, might as well carry on.

Getting back into the cars Sandra once more chose to go with the local officers. Same as before, Laia drove following Garcia at a slow pace, while Pol and Sandra looked out of the windows for any signs of life. The road eventually bifurcated, and Morales gestured them to go straight forward while they took the right turn. Houses were more separated from each other now, and the ever thickening fog created the illusion of roofs and house fronts peeking up like forgotten islands in the sea of mist. It was a moment as good as any to satisfy her curiosity.

“What can you tell me about the abandoned village?”

“Place’s got bad fame because of an unsolved murder in the 90s,” Pol explained, his distaste of the whole ordeal dripping from his voice.

“You forgot the part about the rumours of a cult!” Laia wasn’t one to remain quiet, and bless her for bringing up the interesting details. Pol looked uncomfortable with it, scratching his arm and avoiding looking at her. “The place’s got a fame, you know? It attracts people wanting to commune with the spirits or some shit. And the trash they leave behind fuels the rumours of strange rituals happening there.”

Charming. Sadly, it was another dead end. Cults tended to leave behind either corpses, or pissed people who were scammed.

Ahead of them a tall building emerged from the fog, tall like a lighthouse. Curious to see a block like that after a parade of two story houses, especially when in front of it there was a small cottage with an even smaller fenced garden. And its door was wide open, swaying in the gentle but cold breeze.

Laia stopped the car in the middle of the road, alleging there was no traffic here, and went with Pol inside the house. Sandra stopped to look around, taking into the ruined building before her. Who in their sane mind would choose to live in front of that?

A sound came from within it, pebbles and debris crunching beneath someone’s feet and rolling around. Sandra got closer to the ruin, cell phone in hand to light the dark inside. Vines grew all over the walls and the trees here, smothering everything in a verdant carpet. She went in through a man sized hole in the wall. The bluish light of her phone hit the remnants of a reception counter, with a graffiti painted on the wall behind it. Welcome. A small noise to her right, deeper into the dark.

Her foot landed on something slippery, thick and squelching under her weight. The phone’s light revealed the same rust coloured substance used to paint the message on that window. A drop of it landed down as she was inspecting the puddle, heavy and loud in the resounding silence. Looking upward, Sandra saw a stain of the same substance on the cracked ceiling, slowly filtering down from the upper floor. The stairs were collapsed, though.

There was this prickling sensation in her scalp, as if she was being followed. She caught a quick movement out of the corner of her eye, but there was nothing when she swivelled around. God, she needed a smoke, this place was putting her imagination into overdrive. Better get out of here and join Laia and Pol on the house.

The fog hid both ends of the road and it felt like the car was in a bubble reality, separated from the rest of the world, which did not help much to ease her sudden nervousness.

The small garden surrounding the cabin was in disarray. The patch of flowers next to the gate had been stomped over and a garden rake lay broken in half, the wooden handle stuck on the ground like a defensive stake by the side of the gate.

The inside of the house was completely normal, though. The TV was on, cartoons still playing, with a lively green bowl full of popcorn on the floral couch. The only window, right behind the TV, was covered by a crocheted curtain; and the hearth’s shelf was dangerously full of family photos. Her mother would love the decor.

“Officers? Laia? Pol?” No answer.

Sandra went into the kitchen, looking around the cabin. Nothing. The twin bedrooms. Empty. In the bathroom she found another message, this time painted on the mirror with… it was either mud or shit. She hoped it was the former.

NO ESCAPE

A scraping noise outside caught her attention. Sandra ran to the door and stepped out into the fog. She spent a few seconds trying to puzzle why there was a tree next to the car. Then it moved, turning towards her, and screeched like a banshee.

An extreme feeling of wrong filled her as the tree-like thing started to fucking walk. Sandra bolted back into the house and closed the door, leaning against it as she tried to make sense of what she’d seen. If a stick bug grew to imitate a small tree, and had a disturbingly humanoid looking face, it still wouldn’t be close enough to that horrific thing out there.

A heavy impact rattled the door, nearly dislodging Sandra from her spot. Another thud, followed by a screech that made her wish to cover her ears and press her back against a wall until the chill in her spine went away.

Pushing against the door with one hand, she stretched her other arm to tug at the nearby telephone table and drag it closer, inch by painful inch. The next attack on the door threw her to the ground, nearly hitting her head on the same table she was moving. With one last push, Sandra shoved the auxiliary table in front of the entrance door. Then she stepped away to grab the bookcase next to the TV and bring it to her improvised barricade too. Then went the couch, bowl falling down and popcorn flying everywhere; and then the dining chairs to fill in the gaps. That was the only entrance big enough for that thing, and it wasn’t getting in, no matter how much it banged at the door. Not while Sandra could prevent it. The pounding went on and on, but the barricade held.

She stared vacantly ahead, desperately thinking about what to do, unaware she was digging her nails on her palms. Should she confront that thing? She was unarmed, she’d literally been about to go on a vacation so of course she wasn’t carrying her pistol! She could call for help, but who could help her and how much it would take them to arrive were unknown factors. But it was better than staying here and staring at the wall. She took out her phone with shaking hands. Out of range, fuck!

“Inspector Costa, open the door.”

The assault on the door had stopped. In fact, a disorienting silence had taken over.

“Open the door.”

It was officer Segarra’s voice, as if delivered from Heaven itself.

“Through the window!” Sandra retired the curtain and opened the window for him. It was a narrow fit, but it would work.

Hope is a dangerous feeling, more so when ruthlessly squashed. Pol pushed his head and torso through the open window, and Sandra felt the air leave her lungs. His face was covered in a greying, scaly layer, half fused with his clothes, rough looking and inhuman. Only his left eye remained untainted. Thin vine-like extrusions sprouted from his arm, from the same spot he’d scratched before when nervous.

He groaned, stuck in the reduced opening, shocking Sandra out of her horrified stupor. She might not have her pistol here, but she was full of fear induced recklessness. Sandra grabbed a fire poker from the hearth’s display, an ugly iron thing with a spike on the business end. She rammed it into his human eye. The unnatural, high pitched howl was most satisfying. The next step was to take it out and stab the parasitic growth on the arm. The skin was hard and rigid, but once it shattered the flesh underneath was sickeningly easy to abuse. The creature that once was officer Segarra jerked spasmodically and then withdrew from the window, leaving torn pieces of its bark-like skin stuck to the frame and a splash of rust coloured goo on the floor.

Alright, alright, she needed to barricade the windows too maybe, and -

Sound of static “…Inspector Costa, officers…”Static noise

The patrol car’s radio. The sound was slightly muffled, but in the sudden silence she could understand most of it. Garcia and Morales were investigating on their own, she forgot about them in her panic. And unlike her, they were armed.

“…Morales disappeared…”Static noise“…being followed by mutated…”

Shit. She had a bad feeling about this.

“…Please, I can’t- Inspector Morales? What… AHHHHH!”

The scream lasted a few agonizing seconds, and then static took over again, this time forever.

Sandra was utterly lost. Was it safe to assume everyone else was dead or worse? Honestly, she didn’t feel like going to investigate. The house was a mouse trap, but safe. Barricade the windows it was.

After about fifteen minutes Sandra had fortified the house and scoured it to the last corner in search of a weapon. Surprisingly, she found an axe in one of the cupboards. Countryside folks were weird. With its dulled edge it was of more use as blunt weapon, but heaps better than a fire poker.

She checked her phone again. Still out of range. The meagre light of day was quickly fading, at only six PM. Last time she looked through the window more of those creatures were converging around the house and the patrol car. One of them had a familiar black ponytail sticking out of its inhuman head, blue uniform almost completely assimilated under the bark skin growing all over the body. No matter who they were before, Sandra would chop them all to pieces if any of the creatures attempted to break in.

An infernal chorus of screeches rose, like wolves howling to the skies. Sandra fidgeted with the axe. If she made it through the night, the superintendent surely would send someone to investigate why nobody had reported yesterday. She only had to make it through the night.

The screeching stopped as abruptly as it began. The earth trembled, followed by the unmistakeable sounds of trees falling over. She had a terrible feeling about this. Something low and guttural rumbled outside the house, a distorted shadow passing over the window. Sandra held her breath, praying they would all go away, yet gripping the axe tightly.

A hit against the door shook the barricade and her bones. The door held, but it would not last forever. If pressed, she could still barricade herself on one of the rooms. And it wasn’t like those creatures would fit inside the house, never mind something larger. Right? The door rattled again, the hinges groaning under the strain.

She only had to make it through the night.

[a-curious-wednesday]

Untitled Thing

Prologue

“Guardian…” a small voice begins from somewhere nearby.  Darkness gives way to everything.  I gasp, hard, clawing at nothing as I try to force air into me.  Everything hurts inexplicably.  I jump and my eyes adjust to sunlight and decay.  Immediately I reach for a weapon and find none.  I do not question what a weapon is or what one looks like.  It is as if instinct met buried knowledge.  My hands ball into metallic fists.  Metallic.  Metallic?  Curious, I tell myself.  Why are my hands metal, when they should be flesh…

A breeze washes over me, through me.  I am confused.  My mind lost in a dense fog.  I look around me and see only rust, decay and death.  Ancient vehicles lie in heaps along what I know to be roads.  They are smashed into each other.  Others hang from the sides of a dilapidated bridge, one of many I quickly notice.  There is an eerie silence here.  It unnerves me.  I turn my gaze elsewhere.  Where am I?  Who am I?  How did I come here?  These are the very questions gnawing at my soul.

“Guardian?”  The voice calls, uneasily.

I swivel my head to and fro, trying to discern the body of the small, feminine voice belongs to.  Eventually, a small, metallic ball floats up before me.  Its singular eye, blinking curiously, as if it is wary of me.  I take a step back, startled and trip over a half-buried, rusted bumper.

“G-Gh-Ghost?!”  I hear myself sputter.  But, how do I know what this tiny spiked and flanged ball of metal is?  How does it float so effortlessly?  I watch in quiet confusion and horror as its body begins to spin unnaturally as it floats before my eyes.  The front half, its face, I assume, spins clockwise and its backside spins counter.

“It’s OK Guardian!  Everything will make sense in time.”  The little ball begins.

All around me I hear the groan of ancient metal scraping in the wind.  It unnerves me.  The wind.  I should be able to feel it, shouldn’t I?  I do not.  Why can I not feel it?  My gaze is pulled beyond the little floating ball, beyond this ‘Ghost.’  Shadows and silhouettes of movement beckon my attention.  My mind begins to race.  My body moves of its own accord.  I drop low and slink towards the nearest wreck.  My metallic hand, orange and accented with black paint.  Is that paint?  I quickly notice with no small horror that this paint is chipped, weathered and sun-bleached in places.  It looks as if this hand laid still for a very long time.  My brows furrow as I glare at this hand.

I hear a shrill cry, followed by sharp chirping.  I become aware of the world again.

I shake my head clear of this confusion.  I cannot focus on this right now.  Something inside me beckons my attention towards the location of the movement.  My hand rises to grasp the door of this ancient, rusted vehicle.  The pressure of my hand-- the weight of it and its strength cause the door to groan against it.  The door moans loudly and I look up in surprise as it begins to pull away from the frame!  Immediately, I drop my hand back toward my side.  Fright begins to wash over me, joining with confusion.  I tell myself, ‘this door is very old.’  ‘It would fall apart without my intervention!’

None of this makes sense.

Again, I raise my hand towards the lip of the windowsill.  Only this time, I gingerly place my palm upon the lip, the groan the metal makes is soft, faint.  Better, I think.  I am momentarily distracted by a small swirl of dust at my feet.  It spirals upwards, as if beckoned by some unseen force.  Particles of dirt spilling off its edges are flung far and away.  The moment passes, the dirt settles and I notice for the first time that I am wearing boots.  These boots are some sort of mix of metal, ceramic and malleable rubber.  Although, I am unsure how I instantly know that.  They are a dull and faded black, accented with brown and white.

These are not my boots.  I remember my boots being fabric.  Animal hide.  Leather?  If they are not mine, then whose are they?

The little metallic ball floats up alongside me, eerily soundless.  It flits about my head, curiously, before coming to rest.  Its spikes and flanges spin and twist in opposite directions, unnaturally.

“Guardian, it is not safe here.  We should go.” The Ghost tells me.  Again, I hear that femininity in its voice.  I decide this ‘Ghost’ must be a woman, somehow.  I don’t waste time trying to comprehend how that can be.  Her tiny body moving as if in accord with her speech.  I watch her curiously.  She blinks, waiting for my response.

“...Go where?” I mutter under my breath.  “Where are we even?  And where is ‘where’?”  

For the first time I speak aloud.  My voice is deep, baritonous and oddly flat.  There’s a certain sense of command to it.  I watch, curiously, as the little ball of metal spins towards the source of the movement, ignoring my questions.  My eyes trail after her and I notice more movement.  Strange silhouettes darting through wreckages.  These shadows move unnaturally fast.  I realize they are getting closer.  My jaw clenches.

The ghost, then, turns away from the commotion.  I sense fear, but I cannot understand why.  She becomes almost frantic, flitting about me.  Finally, she falls still.  My eyes are drawn towards where she looks.  I see a giant, rusting wall some distance before us.  In wonder I gaze upward, craning my neck as I visually climb the wall.  From this vantage, the wall seems to reach upwards, towards the heavens.  I think I see clouds near it.  How is that possible?  My gaze falls towards the ground.  I spy a threshold, in the base of the massive wall. A gaping wound, made small by the sheer scale of the wall.  Debris litters the hole in the wall.  Debris and rotting vehicles.  Their doors groan and sway in the wind as it buffets the wall.

“Through there,” she stated plainly, finally answering one of my questions.  My eyes squinted everso briefly.

A guttural cry, followed by high-pitched chirping called my attention westward.  A sudden gust of wind buffets against my back, knocking me into the car’s door.  The door groaned one final time before falling away, into a heap at my feet.  I fall backwards and land hard on my ass.  It takes me but a moment to pull myself up.  I am crouching again, the tips of my boots kick the door accidentally.  Suddenly annoyed, I pick up the door, expecting it to feel heavy.  It does not.  I expected to feel the rust flake off against my fingers.  It does not.  Effortlessly I toss the door aside and watch, marveled, as it soars through the air only to crash upon the faraway hood of a wrecked truck.

The sudden bang of the crashed door, gathers the attention of those to whom the crying and chirping belong to.  Two figures, at my three o’clock suddenly appear atop the hoods of nearby vehicles.  They’re wiry.  They seem to be dressed in patchwork clothing and armor.  I’ve never seen anything like them before.

<Yes, you have.>  An unfamiliar voice says inside me.

I shake my head in an attempt to clear it.  I focus on the figures in patchwork armor.  They, astonishingly, have four arms and are hunched forward, as if poised to pounce.  I get the sense that they are scanning for me.  Trying to find the source of the noise that had disturbed them.  Maybe chucking that door wasn’t the brightest decision I’ve ever made.  I watch closely: curious, wary.  One of the four-armed things motions to the other and it hops off its hood to coolly slink towards the first.  They speak to each other in a mixture of guttural grunts and chirps.  Some of it seems to sound like a foreign language I only half remember.

They seem to be bickering amongst each other.  The one on the car, points with one of its arms in my direction.  I immediately tense up.  The other shakes it’s head.  I have the sudden urge to move, but I am unable to.  My curiosity had me fascinated by these creatures.  They carry themselves like they own the world.  As if there is none that could hope to challenge them.  Their arrogance infuriates me, though, and I cannot explain why.

I continue to watch, unable to move.  The one that pointed, drops its arms to its side and withdraws four menacing blades, with one fluid motion.  As soon as the blades leave their scabbards, they ignite in sparks of electricity.  ELECTRICTY?!  What the fuck?  I grimace as a frown forms upon my face.  I’ve never seen weapons such as those before.

<Yes, you have.>  That same voice says to me again.

I watch as the one who drew its swords points them dangerously at the second four-armed alien.  I watch as the other alien takes a cautious step backwards.  Before screaming in that half-remembered language.  Their bickering intensifies and reveals other aliens that had been hiding nearby.  A troupe of six smaller, weaker-looking aliens appear from the shadows of vehicles surrounding them.  Unlike the taller, more muscular and four-armed ones, these only appear to have two arms.  They wear more clothing than armor and their heads are not hidden beneath sweeping, streamlined helmets.  They wear what appears to be goggles.  Seeing the shape of their face, from this distance, and the fur covering it, I am immediately reminded of a jackal.

More accurately they look like a cross between a rat and dog, if its spawn had four eyes.  I shuddered, imagining how ugly they must look close up.  It seemed clear to me that they were alien to Earth, which seemed strange.

My jaw sets as dread seeps into me, grabbing my guts and twisting.  My eyes narrow as I wait for events to unfold.  The two four-armed creatures are now screaming at each other, uncaring about anything else.  The one with the swords drops from the hood and sets his blades before him, as if ready to attack.  The other sees this and takes it as a challenge.  It backs away before unsheathing two swords of its own and two odd-looking pistols.  It sets itself up for an attack, but waits.  Warily.  The first, says something in that strange language.   Perhaps an insult?

Without warning it lunges at the other, it's blades wildly cut through the air.  Electricity dances down their length, dangerously.  I watch as the second steps forward and brings its own, wicked blades to bear in defense.  They dance around as they effortlessly lock and parry the other’s attack.  The next moment, both pistols are blasting strange bolts of blue-white energy.  Those bolts seem to spark and sizzle as they knife wildly through the air.  The one with the swords slips and slides out of the way of the bolts, but I watch as the bolts seem to track the first, bobbing and weaving through the air.  The small barrage, for the most part misses entirely, but several of the blue-white bolts hit their mark.  Only, the first alien does not crumple into a heap like I thought it would.

Instead, the bolts of energy are harmlessly absorbed by some invisible shield surrounding the first alien.  That is not good, I tell myself.  The Ghost by my side has suddenly grown impatient.  Its flitting intensified.

“Guardian,” she hisses, “we must go.”

I take my eyes away from the aliens for a moment to look upon this Ghost.  Is it impatience I see or fear?  I can no longer tell.  I stare at her impassively a moment longer.

“Wait…” I order.

...

[yandereshit]

vampire!Vanderwood x Reader: so naive.

Vanderweek: Day 2 [02/07/2017] Theme: Alternates Subthemes: Vanderwood route, AU Warnings: alcohol/drugs mention/use

Vanderweek is organized by @vanderweek. Bless them!

˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

„Hey, aren’t you going to help me…?” Seven whined, glancing at all his work.

“You’ve been doing literally nothing for the past few days. A few hours of working alone won’t kill you.”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I was procrastinating.”

Vanderwood’s eyes glistened dangerously and the boy laughed sheepishly, getting to his work in an instant.

As long as he was at least a bit useful, Vanderwood didn’t consider punishing him for his actions.

But the boy was fully aware that the threat was real and – if anything happened – his associate wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Where are you even going?”

“…Dinner.”

Seven glanced at him, unwillingly shivering at the word itself, as if its hidden meaning was engraved deep in his subconsciousness.

“Be careful” he said rather quietly, but the door already closed behind the man.

It was a windy Friday evening. The sky was covered with dark clouds, the smell of upcoming rain was already hovering in the air.

The first few drops of water fell onto the ground and he entered a club located by the main street. No one even noticed as he walked into the hall and leaned against the wall for a few seconds, having a quick glance at the people inside.

Drunkards. Less drunk, covered with sweat dancers. Women and girls keeping together no matter what. Some men trying to talk to them. A few kids who surely shouldn’t have been let in.

People by the bar were usually the easiest targets. It was obvious whether they’re alone or not. They were usually drunk, so it was not a big deal to make them follow him. He’d usually talk to them a bit to find out whether they’d go with him or not. He would never pry. He would never take them against their will.

But he never denied the fact that he was the only one responsible for what happened to them later.

There was a woman sitting by the bar. She was definitely drunk.

…But he doubted she’d be able to even stand up on her own, let alone go anywhere with him.

A young boy was sitting a few seats later.

But he could see a small plastic bag sticking out from his pocket. Way too irresponsibly. He didn’t want to have to deal with druggies. Their blood smelt of rot.

By the end of the long counter though, there was a girl sitting. She didn’t look too drunk, but she was alone and her eyes glistened with slight fear.

It made him a bit interested and he creeped closer, sitting on the bar chair next to her.

The girl glanced at him, but he didn’t look back, ordering something alcohol-free. She tilted her head to the side, but didn’t say anything.

She smelt nice. Of some herbals, only slightly mixed with alcohol.

But she wasn’t drunk. The alcohol was on her shirt. It already dried off, but the substance was still hovering in it. Someone must have spilled a drink onto her.

He rested his chin on his hand, sighing tiredly.

“Are you okay, sir?”

He looked at her. There was concern in her eyes.

“Why asking?”

“You look really pale…”

…I wonder, why.

“It was a long day” he admitted, smiling slightly.

“You shouldn’t overwork yourself” she said. “And I think you should rather go home and take a nap instead of coming to a place like this. It’s very loud. You’ll get a headache.”

“…”

He didn’t expect her being genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

“And you? Are you okay?” he asked, observing her closely. A single bond of sweat ran down her throat and he had to remind himself not to lick over his lips, as he instinctively wanted to. Her heart skipped a bit and he couldn’t help but wheeze soundlessly in satisfaction. The sound was nice in his ears. His senses were so sharp right now, yet the music didn’t distract him. He was fully focused on her.

“I-I’m fine, I guess… But also tired.”

“Long day?”

“…I wouldn’t say. More like, a few bad moments.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” he stated calmly, chugging down his drink.

She mumbled quietly, resting her elbows on the counter.

“My boyfriend was drunk and he couldn’t… well, control himself. But it’s fine now, I guess.”

“Is it?”

“I bluntly told him to fuck off. Like, forever.”

“So it is.”

“But I’m alone here now and too scared to go back home on my own.”

“…Not that fine anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess so…” She sobbed dramatically, but quickly smiled, as if it didn’t matter anymore. “I’ll just wait till the morning.”

“Is it safe though?” He tilted his head to the side, showing concern. “There may be a lot of people you… probably wouldn’t want to meet. It’s evening yet, but it’ll get worse after midnight…”

Was he actually concerned? Maybe a bit. Acting like a nice and caring person was unnatural. But necessary to gain her trust.

She frowned and sighed.

“I’m aware. But I can’t do anything with that.”

“You can buy a drink.”

“…It’s probably the best advice for now.”

She smiled and he smiled back. The bartender was just passing by, so she caught his sleeve. And asked for vodka.

Vodka.

As for someone who looked like they don’t drink often… he was sure that three strong shots will be enough to make her go with him without a hesitation.

That would be all in the case of “not forcing anyone”. He indeed wasn’t forcing anyone. He just waited for them to be unable to resist.

“…I shouldn’t drink” she admitted suddenly, right after finishing two shots at once.

“Are you underage?”

“…Do I look like one?”

“It’s a bit too dark here to judge.”

“Right… No, I’m… technically an adult.” Her voice broke down and it took her a good few minutes to retreat. “Technically… I can’t even cook a damn dinner… I broke a toaster lately, like, it suddenly started to smoke… I only tried to make a damn breakfast…” Her eyes glistened with tears.

IT’S BEEN ONLY TWO SHOTS OF VODKA.

“There, there” he said, patting her shoulder, a bit unsure what else could he do now. But it was good. He could get closer to her like this. She didn’t oppose.

“A-and… I plugged it off but… it was too late, I had to use the estinshiguer…”

“You mean, extinguisher…?”

“ESTINSHIGUER…”

“Okay…”

HOW DID SHE EVEN SET A TOASTER ON FIRE.

“And the toasts were ruined…” Her voice broke down again. “I couldn’t eat them… And those were the last slices of bread… Can you understand it…? I’ve been so hungry… And exhausted… I wanted to die…!” She sobbed quietly and looked up at the bartender who was anything but interested in her talking. “…Can I…?” she slid the glasses towards him.

The bartender indifferently filled them up again.

Vanderwood groaned as she chugged them both down right away.

“But I don’t even like toasts that much… You know, it’s only bread, a burned bread… And bread, you know… it’s not too complicated… Have you ever baked a bread?”

“Yeah, I cook pretty often…”

She gasped.

“Like a… a magician…!” She swayed a bit and almost fell from the chair. He held her tightly in place.

“…”

She suddenly sobbed again.

“Hug me…” she mumbled, wrapping arms around him and nuzzling head in his chest.

Never in his life had he felt so awkward.

Never in his life has he met someone who would be as drunk as a skunk after four shots! He wanted her to be only a bit torpid…

…But he forced himself to stay still.

Even when her hair tickled his nose, along with the sweet scent of her body. He could hear her breath against his neck. It was pleasantly warm. Her heartbeat was calm now, the blood flowing through her veins – even hotter than before.

It took her a moment to retreat and pull away.

“…I can’t even… cook a dinner…” she mumbled childishly and he stroked her chin with his gloved hand in a calming, affectionate motion she seemed to like right away.

“It’s nothing bad. Really” he said, looking deep into her eyes. They were a bit red from crying and unfocused. She was already drunk enough for the things around her to blur.

“…I need another shot” she decided, shuffling towards the bartender.

“No. You’re not drinking anymore” he stated with slight annoyance. “You’re going home.”

“Make me” she dared, reaching towards the bottle of alcohol standing behind the bar.

He grasped her wrist.

“NO.”

Her face twisted in sadness.

“There, there… I’ll take you home” he said, wrapping arm around her waist and helping her up. The girl stumbled, but his grip was firm enough to help her steady.

He paid for her shots and leaded her to the exit. The bartender glanced at them briefly, but quickly returned to his own business.

The rain was heavy at this point. The rustling of trees being played with by the strong wind, the dense drops of water hitting against the streets, making a soft fog raise low above them. The street lights brightened everything around, but the buildings seemed as if they were empty.

The weather was their only observer.

Vanderwood took off his coat and wrapped it around the girl’s form. She was shivering from the cold. After a few minutes, they were both soaking wet.

“Where do you live?” he asked as they reached a small bus stop. They hid under the shed.

“…Far away…” she mumbled, closing eyes and leaning against him.

He could feel the alcohol slowly leaving her body, but she still stayed close.

So trustful.

So naive.

“Which bus?” he asked, glancing at the timetable glued to the wall of the shed.

“None.”

“How come?”

“My ex took me here by his car…” she whispered. She looked as if she could fall asleep like this.

He sighed.

“I’ll take you to my place” he decided and she didn’t oppose.

It was easy. Easier than he’d expect.

The small flat he rented for the time being was only a few hundred meters away. They passed through the widest street, then entered one of narrower ones. A thunder must have hit somewhere close, because the loud thud echoed around them along with the white light blinding them for a few seconds. The storm was getting worse.

He opened the door to the block and let her in. Then, into the lift. Silence surrounded them for a few seconds, before they went out of the lift and the thunder hit again.

“Aren’t you afraid of the lightnings?” she asked suddenly.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The next thunder, louder than before, made her jump in surprise.

“…You’re probably right.”

They entered the flat.

The thunderstorm could still be heard, but it was rather quiet here. With every thunder, all the glass would shake. But it was calm. Weak gleams of street lamps entered the space, lightening it a little.

“I’ll get you something to change into. Towels are in the drawer. Dry yourself” he said, pointing at the bathroom.

She only nodded sleepily, going inside without a word.

And he couldn’t help, but wonder.

Would she wake up tomorrow and sneeze because of the cold she caught? Complain about the stuffed nose and headache? Call her friends and say that she won’t visit them today because she’s sick? Spill hot tea onto her work?

Would she… ever wake up again after tonight?

He knocked to the door.

“I’m leaving the clothes on the floor. Put yours into the drier. Come to the kitchen when you’re done.”

He took off his own clothes, letting them soil his bedroom’s floor. He’d tidy it up later. His apparel was thicker so he wasn’t that wet. He changed into something else.

From the counter beside his bed, he took out a new pair of gloves and went into the kitchen.

The small fire on the stove contrasted with the darkness. He didn’t need any source of light to see everything well enough. He took out two cups and teabags. Sugar was always standing on the counter.

From the drawer, he took out a little bag with white powder inside and poured a bit less than half of it into one of the cups along with the water as it started to boil.

The floor creaked slightly as the girl went out of the bathroom and entered the kitchen, looking way better than before. Her hair was still a bit wet, but at least not as messy from the rain and wind as when he’s seen her previously. She probably used his own brush. His big shirt was sticking to her back, where she didn’t reach with the towel. Walking, she tripped over the hem of his sweatpants, way too big for her.

Adorably pathetic.

She sat on one of the chairs and mumbled something.

“Did you say something?” he asked, setting the cup of tea in front of her and leaning against the windowsill with his arms crossed.

“Thank you” she said, a bit louder. “You’re a really nice person…” she added, reaching the sugar.

He watched her for a moment, his face indifferent.

“You’re so gullible.”

She raised her head and smiled softly.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not stupid, if that’s what you think.”

“Aren’t you?”

She chuckled, raising the cup to her lips.

He watched.

“I just… don’t see the point of not trusting people.”

“What about your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice calm, but sincerely showing his curiosity.

“He… did a stupid thing. I can’t just forget it. But he’s not a bad person…”

“I see.”

“The tea is really good” she said with a smile, enjoying the taste.

He only nodded.

For a long moment, there was a soothing silence between the two of them. The thunderstorm went away, but the rain still pouring from the sky, rather quietly meeting with the ground.

“You shouldn’t do what strangers tell you to. You never know who you meet.”

“You’re probably right… But I just had that feeling.” She set the empty cup back on the table. “That you’re a good person.”

“…”

He looked away.

“Is that so.”

Her head must have spun, because she swayed on the chair, leaning against the table to keep steady. The drug must have started to kick in.

“…”

She slowly stood up.

“I’m a bit dizzy…” she admitted.

“I know” he responded quietly, not moving from his spot. His eyes must have shone with red, because she stared at them in awe for a few seconds, her own widening in shock.

That’s how the hunger showed itself like.

The fangs in his mouth stung, yearning to bite into the soft flesh.

His vision was focused on her, his mind filled with the imagination of her blood streaming down his throat.

His fingers dug into his shoulders, his body tense, his breathing – way faster than normally.

He pushed himself off the windowsill. In a second, he was hovering over her, his fangs bared and ready to bite in.

But she didn’t even blink, staring at him bluntly. Her own eyes gleamed with curiosity as she reached up to bravely touch his pale face.

But he didn’t let her, wrapping fingers around her wrist before she managed to. She flinched at the movement and he loosened the grip.

She looked so calm, yet her heart was racing. The smell of her blood reached his nostrils again, more intense than before.

“…”

He sighed deeply, letting go of her wrist. She didn’t back away, only kept staring.

“…”

“The bedroom is to the left. When you wake up, you’ll feel fine. Go back home as soon as you can.”

Not sparing her a single glance, he shoved her aside, passing by and straight to the door, taking the jacket off the hanger and putting it on in a hurry.

Without a word, he just left.

A single thunder echoed somewhere far away and the rain finally stopped.

˙·٠•●♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥●•٠·˙

Remember, children. Don’t drink alcohol if you’re underage and don’t fuckin drink the tea a stranger gives you. Just… don’t talk to strangers! They’re creepy af!

Vanderweek: Day 1

Masterlist

[sumisuchan]

Strawberries and Tall Towers Ch.3

“Do you remember the handkerchief you gave me?”

Pink slept naked beneath the ruined sheets and White trailed through her hair with the comb of a few fingers. Unconsciously, her vocal chords complained. White kept talking, “I carry it with me wherever I go.”

Pink’s eyes opened. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I love it.”

“I love you.” Her words warped inside her morning mouth.

“Truly?” Pink’s already insane locks had been tangled by sleep and sex, and her lover swept it all away from her face so they could look at one another. “Well, I love you too, but I must leave soon, my dear.”

“Wait…I wanted to tell you, you have some silver hairs on your tummy.”

“I do?” White brushed through her lover’s hair. “Would you prefer I shave them?”

“No. They’re so cute. Please keep them.”

She laughed. “Thank you, Pink. I’m glad my ‘tummy hairs’ please you, but any one of them aren’t as cute as you.”

At that moment, Pink didn’t respond. She merely fluttered her lashes and adjusted her throat. She took in the older woman’s features, her smile and the way it was framed between her slight parentheses; her long, silver lashes and how the crow’s feet accentuated them like liner. Despite any amount of aging, her bright eyes remained as sharp as the point of a rapier.

White laced their fingers together and drew a few tears from Pink.

“I know,” she said. “I know you don’t want to wait any longer. I feel the same, but I intend on talking to Yellow soon, and then we can begin planning our ceremony. And on that day, when we’re finally wed, I’ll set a crown onto your head and you’ll be my queen. I’m looking so forward to loving you openly and being able to shower you in my attention.” White kissed Pink’s forehead. “I wish you wouldn’t cry, but I understand. It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? I always think of you when I’m alone, and I wish you were there with me. Sometimes I shed a tear as well. I’m so sorry to leave you, my love.”

Pink cried even harder and covered her face with her hands.

“Oh, I didn’t wish to make you upset.” White leaned forward and pulled her from the sheets, embracing her and leaving kisses all around her face and eyes.

Pink gasped in return and gathered her composure. “I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“Don’t be concerned about me. It’s my duty to be concerned about you, my little Diamond.” White sampled her lips. “Just promise me you won’t be too sad, won’t you?”

Pink gasped, holding White with one hand and clearing her face with the other. “Okay. I’ll try.” The last of her tears welled up and dried. “You’re the best, White.”

“I feel the same toward you,” the elder Diamond finally set the younger back upon the sheets, gently. She stroked her cheek and straightened out the comforter above her, tucking her into bed. “You should try and sleep a little longer. I’m sure you have a busy day.”

“Probably,” Pink yawned. “Thanks for coming over, Sugar Tits.”

White laughed, “Thank you for having me, Honey Buns,” and gave her a kiss goodbye. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

White chuckled as she descended the ladder and Pink shut her eyes, scratching her naked form beneath the kind sheets. She didn’t stir when White’s boots afflicted the grass with a thump, nor did she crack open her lashes when the sun invaded the sky.

Just as she did every clandestine visit, White burned away the vines and flew away with Luna. Her flames, however, had left the roots at the window, which trailed only a short distance from the sill. Despite the incriminating ivy left over, Pink waded deep in dense and colorful dreams. The dragons had stopped singing, and even as the light saturated her room, she didn’t open her eyes.

Even when Goldine sang her morning song, Pink didn’t wake.

She didn’t wake when the Pearls spoke outside her door.

Nor did she wake when Yellow Diamond came inside.

“Pink—” she opened the door, having already dressed and coiffed and ate, “Are you going to—” but stopped talking the moment she witnessed the window, the honey on the dresser, and the naked girl in bed. Her boots tapped in staccato to the remaining ivy and how it had shaped itself into the top of a ladder, blackened with fire that didn’t belong to Pink.

Yellow shocked her sister right out of bed.

“You cannot be serious!”

Her naked body hit the stone floor, and in the paralyzing electricity, she struggled to speak. Her form glowed as the static rolled over her in waves. It left burns above where White had marked her the night before, as if Yellow would torch away the love bites.

Pink’s limbs shook as unconscious saliva trailed along her chin. She fought to even remain on her hands and knees.

“How dare you—” Yellow moved toward Pink and forced her to stand, grasping her by the arm and jerking her to her feet. “Do you have any idea how ashamed our mother would be if she saw this?!”

Pink got some of her movement back, but couldn’t fight, so she settled for covering her leaking mouth.

Yellow, in the meantime, had ripped a dress from her sister’s closet and dragged her outside the room and down the hall. As she walked, static shot off of her, electrocuting small objects out of existence on the way. The passing servants cowered and huddled against the walls.

“Yehloh—” Pink still couldn’t phonate clearly. Her mouth sounded as though it were full of cotton balls, and more drool collected upon her hand. Unable to struggle, Pink covered her vagina with her other palm as Yellow dragged her past the servants, and the clear windows that anyone could see into. “Yehloh—” she tried, “Uhm sohrhy—”

“Be quiet!”

Yellow electrocuted the words out of her and they kept going, lower and lower, to the first floor.

Eventually, they passed the open door of the dining room, where Blue Diamond sat with a book, an empty plate, and a full cup of tea. Both Yellow’s stomping and Pink’s crying drew her from the spot until she followed only a few steps behind. Blue frantically gripped her robes and kept a quick pace, yelling to her wife, “What are you doing?!”

Yellow kept dragging her naked sister. Servants ran past them in a panic.

“Let her go! Why are you doing this?!”

Finally, Yellow turned to her wife, nearly dropping Pink onto the floor, and both stared at one another. At that point, they were only a few steps from the dungeon, and Yellow let Pink fall.

She yelled at the Citrine guards, “Put her inside a holding cell!”

“Yellow, stop! What did she do?!”

“I found her naked this morning, vines growing from the windowsill! She invited White Diamond over to fuck her!”

“What? That’s what this is about?! Do you even—”

“The vines were burned, Blue! That nasty old woman climbed the side of my palace and tried to torch away the evidence! You can see the love bites on her skin!” Yellow pointed a hard finger at her sister.

“That’s still no reason to do this!”

“I said lock her up!” Yellow hollered at her guards, who stood in place, quivering in their armor.

After a pause, they tried to come closer, until Blue shouted, “Stop!” and everyone froze for a moment.

Both Diamonds stared at one another, and Pink sobbed inside the quiet. Her sound choked and her chords wouldn’t vocalize at first, but then her weeping burst outward between uneven gasps. Even though she tried to cover her weeping face with her useless, limp hands, all of her attempts ended in uncoordinated flailing until she gave up completely, and cried into the carpet.

“If you won’t do it, I’ll do it myself!” Yellow picked up her sister’s corpse again and took her into the dungeon.

“Yellow—” and when Blue grasped her shoulder to stop her, she took a hit of lighting and pulled her hand away. With furrowing brows and malfunctioning legs, she stood still and said no more. Even when Blue fell to her knees, she watched Yellow take her sister to the dungeon.

The guards came to Blue. “Are you alright, Madame?”

“I’m fine,” she stood and wiped the tears from her eyes before limping away. The Citrines followed, but only for a moment, as Blue waved them off and covered her face with one hand.

[knightofbalance-13]

http://dudeblade.tumblr.com/post/159045641422/how-rwby-could-have-gone-better-by-killing-jaune

You don’t understand RWBy at all do you?

Well, I guess it’s time for me to go all out, huh @dudeblade?

Alright guys, I’m going to be listing the reasons why I think it would have been better for Jaune to have died instead of Pyrrha

This seems like It’d be critical but post is tagged “Jaune H8″ so this is less “How RWBY is better if Jaune died” than “I want Jaune to die”

For starters, this would show how dark and unforgiving the world is. The series built up so much to make Jaune out to be this epic hero, and how he had to work hard to get to where he is now.

Now imagine, if you will, how much more darker and threatening the world would be if you just snatched that right from him. It would not only break him, but it would be a powerful scene. Jaune had his faults (like stalking Weiss), and he wasn’t the best fighter (See: Him cheating Beacon), but he still stood out to be the one in the right. You set Jaune up to be a guy who seemingly got away with some questionable things, and this becomes his ultimate retribution. Something that shatters the world. Him realizing that he’s just a person in the grand scheme of things, and that he isn’t going to be the hero that he always dreamed of being.

That is NOT the world of RWBY. The world of RWBY is a reflection of our world: it is both good and bad. It is both dark and light, it has people who want to tear down and people who want to build up and everything in between. That is why so many people love the cast: Because they feel real, they feel alive and that is due to the world of Remnant being balanced. I respect RWBY because it is willing to show the good and bad, it won’t say that the world is all peachy and fine but it will also say that darkness doesn’t always reign supreme. THis is evident in Volume 4 (the volume you choose to ignore) in two very real ways: The opening and Runy’s monologue.

I want you to read the lines from “Let’s Just Live”

it used to feel like a fairy tale now it seems we were just pretending we’d fix our world then on our way to a happy ending then it turned out life was far less like a bedtime story than a tragedy with no big reveal of the hero’s glory and it seems we weren’t prepared for a game that wasn’t fair do we just go home? can we follow through? when all hope is gone there is one thing we can do

let’s just live day by day and not be conquered by our sorrows the past can’t hold us down we must break free inside we’re torn apart but time will mend our hearts move onward not there yet so let’s just live

In case you were too caught up disrespecting anything good about the show, let me explain it to you: They once thought the world was just like in the stories they heard but then reality comes in and shows them how harsh things can get. But do they stay home and wallow in misery, do they let these events cloud their future, do they let their pain consume them?

No, they keep fighting, day by day, working to make the world a better place for everyone, to make everyone smile a little in this cold world. Is that not better than just being bleak and hopeless? Because I have watched shit like that and it only earned my scorn and hatred. The message of RWBY however (”Keep Moving Forward”) is something so beautiful I have only seen it in one other place.

Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann, the Magnum Opus of Studio Gainax, the pinnacle of the Super Robot Genre, an anime that has saved lives and inspired so many including Monty Oum. Yeah, TTGL helped inspire Monty and especially RWBY. His quotes ( If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams are something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death. / I believe the human spirit is indomitable... / Never let anyone tell you that something is impossible. ) were preached in TTGL and are preached in RWBY. By enduring those hardships and enduring despair, Monty became stronger, Simon became stronger and Ruby became stronger and that is more inspirational than anything you could ever come up with.

By assuming and demanding RWBY to be dark, you are asking the show to abandon the heart and soul of it’s creator, the heart and soul that made RWBY break barriers people thought impossible: You are essentialy demanding RWBY tear out of the things that make it great.

Speaking of TTGL, wanna know who Pyrrha reminds me most of? Kamina, a man whose words have saved lives in our world, whose burning heart and inspirational actions drive people to become better. Pyrrha is the same way: Despite the fact that she might lose everything that makes her happy, she wanted to become the Fall Maiden for the sake of everyone. JUst for a chance to save people despite every possiblity of death, she faced off against Cinder. And even as she was about to die with everything she was about to become nothing, Pyrrha was the first to break Cinder’s pride and made that smug, untouchable bitch frown. Even in death, she pushes Jaune to become stronger and Ruby to accept the world around her and renew her desire to do good. To take that away from Pyrrha is a fucking insult and disgusting, just so you could kill Jaune and make RWBY “dark and edgy.”

“Next up, is the retribution thing I mentioned earlier.

Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat it, but… Jaune kinda deserves to die. For starters, he cheated Beacon Academy. Cheating on a test is one thing. Cheating an entire school is another. But, this would also serve as a means to teach him a lesson that he will unfortunately be unable to apply later in life: Just because you want something, doesn’t mean you can just wing it.

Think about it! He had no idea what aura was, he was ignorant on basic hunter history, and he didn’t even know how semblances worked. He was an underdog. And what better way to subvert that trope, than to kill the underdog?

Then there was the whole Weiss thing. He stalked her, kept ignoring her refusals, and only backed off when he realized that the affection between her and Neptune was reciprocated. It wasn’t when she said “No.” It wasn’t when she slammed the door in his face. It wasn’t when she was ignoring him. It was when he found out that she like another guy. Jaune was so dense, that he didn’t even realize that Pyrrha was practically throwing herself at him.

If Jaune is unable to realize that, then he would be unable to realize what’s going on around him. Most people have pointed out that most dialogue is used to develop Jaune more than other characters, and I have to agree with them. He had way too many lines in Volume 4.”

Okay, Let’s break this down real good.

1. Wanna know who else is the underdog who got their way into Beacon through unfair means? Ruby Rose. She got in early because Ozpin let her in early despite lacking the maturity and experience needed to get in all because Ozpin let her in. Therefore , by your own logic, Ruby should die. She cheated her way in as well, got lucky, risked her life for stupid bullcrap numerous times thus risking the lives of her father, her uncle and her sister. By all rights: Ruby should be included.

2. NO. Somethings being left alone is a GOOD thing. If Jaune gets killed after all that work, you wanna know what that says? “Fuck you, work is meaningless, you will get nowhere so go die.” That is wrath that would say: And you talk about implications.

3. Seriously? Because Jaune kept trying to get a girl to like him, he deserves to die. Are you serious?!  Do you know how ignorant that is? Because he’s dense he deserves to die?! That has to be the DUMBEST reason he and any persone ever deserves to die! And just as well, Weiss was too dense to see that unlike everyone else who asks her out, Jaune isn’t try to date her for her money or family name, he loves Weiss for who she is. Better kill her off! Blake doesn’t understand leaving your friends is NOT protecting them. Better kill her off! Yang doesn’t understand that rushing a guy who beta Blake without any idea of his abilities or powers is a fucking bad idea! Better kill her off! It’s called being a teenager: you fuck shit up and don’t understand people but you learn to! 

4. Dense, doesn’t get the memo they don’t feel that way: Sounds like Pyrrha. Pyrrha threw herself at Jaune just as Jaune threw himself at Pyrrha so by your logic Pyrrha should still die. In fact, Pyrrha never let up, never stopped until she saw Jaune liked someone else, still tried to get him after he was rejected and kisses him before dying, leaving Jaune with a lot of problems afterward so by your logic Pyrrha still deserves to die, but more so! But nope, it’s fine for Pyrrha to do all that because it’s perfectly okay for a woman to act that wayy but not a man. It’s creepy when a man does it no matter what but it’s cute and endearing when a woman does it. Guess you’d love to meet Yuno Gasai huh? Fucking double standards.

5. Yeah and wanna know how much time Jaune got to himself, that allowed him to develop that saw him as the focus? 5:42. For reference, Yang had: 16:52. Jaune had a third of the screentime as the person you bitch about. The rest is all using him as a tool for the development of Ren and Ruby, just as Pyrrha was Jaune. But that’s wrong of Jaune in both cases despite being on both sides. SO much sense there!

Thirdly, we actually SAW interactions between him and Ruby. We saw them bonding over the struggles of leading a team, we saw them having conversations in the early episodes, we saw and heard them having nicknames for each other based on what they did early on.

Ruby would have been devastated.

and because we saw their interactions on-screen, so would we.

Did you ever consider the fact that Ruby is upset she couldn’t save someone in time, like the heroes in the storybooks she read and adored, thus breaking the illusion of the fairy tale world around her and thus around us? No? I didn’t think so. Surprising what you can accomplish by applying thought.

fourthly, and this is a minor thing on my end, it would kill every single conspiracy that claims that “Miles is giving more development to Jaune because he has a big ego.”

Seriously. Nobody would even consider that as a possibility had Jaune died instead.

Bullshit: You’d just say “Miles is making Jaune into a self-insert Matyr” just as you say he’s getting too much screen time now. You guys just hate Miles and want to rag on him.

Expect a post on how the narrative would have been improved with Pyrrha’s presence instead of Jaune’s

And expect me to tear into that with all my might next time as well. I’ll be waiting.

[gaiatheorist]

Another ‘New Normal’.

I keep starting, and then discarding this one, it seems flippant, and dismissive to crow that the lock-down in the UK is pretty much how I was living before, so I can’t understand why people are stockpiling food, or setting up street-WhatsApp groups. That’s not being callous, I have a few months of canned and dried food here, and I have tried to keep in touch with a few people. I’ve always been insular and isolated, the autism and C-PTSD set that rhythm to my life a very long time ago, and then I had a few life-events that required major adaptation. I’ve done this re-start thing a few times, absorb-accept-advance, that’s how it has to be for me, because the alternative is to hide behind the sofa, crying. 

Yesterday gave me another perspective. It was my son’s birthday, and he was in a VILE mood, conflicted between the meaningless Facebook messages from people he had no interaction with, and being unable to see the people that mattered to him. I would have said that ‘we’ have all of our needs met, but that would be to assume that he processes things like I do, and he doesn’t. He’d been becoming more fractious and irritable all day, and, although I didn’t react to it, he was spoiling for an argument, the atmosphere was dense, and heavy, weighed down with his version of a woman saying ‘fine!’ to pretend-to-halt-an-argument. He kept doing things that he knows I’m annoyed by, and I kept not-reacting, he gave up before I did, I’ve had more practice.  

His Grandma phoned him at some point during the late afternoon, and sent both of us into panic-mode. His panic involves wide-eyed pacing, shortness of breath, and our old autistic favourite, hand-gestures. Mine involves instant analysis of all available options, and a whittling down to the best-fit, with a calm and immediate decision. Grandma has some hearing loss, and she’s never been very bright. She witters away like a budgie, and interrupts other peoples’ responses with whatever candy-floss notion floats into her mind, it’s bad enough face-to-face, it’s really difficult on the phone. Granddad had had ‘One of his dos’ overnight. Red Alert. He’s probably in his late seventies, if not early eighties. He’s had cancer, Chron’s, Ulcerative Collitis, gall-bladder removal, and repeated hospital admissions due to decreased liver function, he is not a well man. Grandma has chronic asthma, and had a knee replacement last year. They’re both chronically ill, and neither of them will admit it. (I know, we have a pot-calling-kettle-black situation, I have a tendency to ‘get on with’ things, and not ask for help. I’m easily as bad as the both of them combined.)

“Grandma, GRANDMA, have you let anyone know!” I knew what he meant, and he knew what he meant, Grandma, on the other hand, started babbling off on a tangent, about how Granddad would usually phone on his birthday, but he’d been asleep since 5am. MAJOR red-flag, this is a man who doesn’t ‘stay in bed’ unless he’s in hospital, attached to drips and monitors.

“Get her off the phone, and contact your Dad.” It was a bit rude of me to speak while she was still babbling on about nothing, but, in that moment, he was close to tears with the frustration of him trying to find out whether she’d contacted a doctor, or anyone at the hospital.

“Grandma, have you phoned an ambulance, or NHS direct?”

“Oh, no, love, we don’t need that, they’ve said not to on the news, it’s just one of his turns, it’s been seven weeks since his last one, so we knew he’d be due one.” I made ‘wind it up’ hand-gestures at him. Granddad is a stubborn old mule, who insists he’s fine when he clearly isn’t, and Grandma, well, she just does as she’s told, she’s not much of an independent thinker. 

He managed to get her off the phone, and messaged his Dad. Grandma will do as she’s told if it comes from Granddad, or my ex. I was on high-alert, because the in-laws are both exceptionally frail, and it’s the don’t-like-to-bother-folk types who will be the hidden statistics in this pandemic. Granddad does ‘always’ recover after his episodes, but, quite frequently needs a spell in hospital to do so. The ex contacted her pretty quickly, and messaged back that Granddad WAS OK, it was a ‘mild’ episode, and, bizarrely, that he’d told Grandma she MUST contact him if Granddad deteriorated, or failed to improve, that he had a gas-mask, and NBC suit, and that he WOULD turn up at the house if she failed to update him. 

The whole interchange probably took no more than ten minutes. Panic-minutes are longer than ordinary minutes, as rational/decisive as I am in a crisis, because I have to be, it isn’t as easy on me as I make it look. I freak people out with how calm I seem to be, it’s the ‘swan’ analogy, I look calm and serene on the surface, but, underneath, I’m paddling like fuck, and I could probably break a person’s arm. My son HATES people-that-aren’t-him telling him what to do, or making decisions for him, BUT, he’s also profoundly anxious, and prone to dithering. Sometimes he actually actively needs to be told what to do, a small, clear, logical direction can pull him out of his panic, and give him a productive, manageable action to take. It wears me thin, to have to direct him, I have my own ‘stuff’ to deal with, but, if I don’t catch him at the start of the panic, and re-route him, he becomes unmanageable.

Granddad is either OK, or not OK, he’s either going to be OK, or not. We know he’s not coping well with the lock-down, and we know he was already going downhill emotionally, from leaving his big house, and moving into a pokey bungalow. I made the most logical decision, based on the available information, and now, it’s my ex’s turn to take over. (54, no known medical issues, own transport etc, my brain genuinely does process factors as ‘linear’ as that.) The ex will also have contact details for the relatives who live closest to the in-laws. I don’t. 

I can handle ‘not going out’, that’s what I do. I can handle attempting to make meals out of whatever-is-left, and a couple of tins. I can handle ‘only shopping for essentials’, we’re already joking about drinking the ‘Gardonnay’, my last batch of cider from the year before last, which has taken on an ‘oaky’ flavour for no discernible reason. We’re stuck in here together until the lock-down ends, and we’re both struggling with that, he’s spoiling for arguments, and being a filthy mess-pig, and I’m frequently going to my bedroom, just to get away from him. He’s pining for his usual limited social contact, as am I. He’s blithering on about his D&D online group choosing Thursday nights for games, and being interrupted by the 8pm clapping, and I’m furiously trying to move direct debits around, because I have £20.05 to last a month, DWP/UC changed my payment with a few days’ notice, and, like everyone else, their phone-lines are ‘emergencies only’. My PIP disability benefit expiring and not being renewed couldn’t have happened at a worse time, £350 a month gone, and then UC seeing fit to pay only 1/2 of the ‘Housing Element’ they’ve been allocating, The Housing Element never covered all of the rent, I was using part of the PIP to make up the shortfall. I have to appeal the decision to decline the PIP, whilst juggling everything-else. That’s the most frightening impact of the lock-down, the UC doesn’t cover my outgoings, so I would-have asked all my utilities etc for a month’s breathing-space, so I could ‘keep’ a month’s UC in my bank account while I appealed the PIP decision, and the UC Housing Element change. 

Emergency calls only. I’ve already emailed the provider for my gas/electricity, and begged a month’s grace, but I had a credit balance I could use up. I’m not in credit anywhere else. We won’t starve, but I won’t be able to buy any more fresh food this month. I don’t like this new normal.