#i am just fucking FURIOUS that the people i work with are so careless!!!!

[allowed-to-take-up-space]

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[red-letter-imagines]

heyy there!! can you do another part of the “reaction when you suck on their tongue but with Mikey, Rindou and mitsuya?

You have no idea how happy I am that my work's so well-received! So there's been more than one request for a part 2, but for different characters. This little dove, however, is the first one so I'll be doing this, then the other characters in later parts, alright? Alright.

Now *cracks knuckles* let's begin!

Reaction When You Suck on Their Tongue Part 2 (Sano Manjiro, Haitani Rindou & Mitsuya Takashi)

Sano "Mikey" Manjiro: (Bonten! Mikey)

You sure you don't need a chaser with that? Sanzu snickers from across you, pupils already blown wide from the pills he'd taken half an hour ago. The pure vodka sears your esophagus, a pool of liquid fire in your abdomen. Tears are springing up your eyes and you wince. Truly, it had been a horrible idea on your side to make bets with Sanzu, of all people. That man has had every drug imaginable enter his system and three overdoses later, is still standing. You should've known better than to order Spirytus, but Sanzu has a way of getting under anyone's skin, especially yours.

He knew you had more than several bones to pick with him after he coaxed Mikey into accepting a million-dollar drug deal with some shady Western cartel. Throughout Bonten's history, it was one of the more careless business trades you'd ever gone through, one that put Mikey in a precarious position. The cartel demanded Mikey's audience for the deal to be done, and while Sanzu reassured you that nothing would happen to their "King", that never stopped you from worrying your head off.

A part of you wanted the drugs and alcohol put him into a coma; you just had to hold your liquor until then. Yet this poisonous bastard is still standing, while you barely have the confidence to stand up straight. He's fucking crazy.

You eye the remaining shot glass. It's rim and ridges bounce the bright glow of the chandeliers above you, its crystal clear contents an elegant deception to those unaware. You suck air through your nose and grab it. Before you could down the last drink of your life, a slender hand slides to your shoulder.

You turn to face Mikey's lilac-rimmed gaze, the darkness swimming within sucking you in like a vacuum. Once he sees the flares of red across your cheeks and down your neck, his lips curl a little. Mikey hates alcohol with a passion; he told you early on that he abhorred its bitterness and how it hazed your mind.

Instantly, you cave under his disappointment, and none-too-gracefully drop your shot glass back on the counter. You barely had time to utter his name before he cups your cheek and kisses you. It's gentle, caring yet the pressure of his pecks stamp his dominance into your very soul.

He plunges his tongue into your booze-laced cavern, and you eagerly latch onto it like a hungry pup. He tasted of red bean paste, its sweetness a balm to your burning senses. He keeps a hand on your neck while you have your fill, biting your lower lip when you part.

You're panting, eyes glazed with wanton need. He strokes a thumb under your ear, and you smile.

You could drink all the alcohol you wanted, but nothing could make you drunker than Sano Manjiro's affection.

Haitani Rindou:

You frown to yourself as you waited outside the heavy steel gates of Roppongi's juvenile detention center. It's been six months since the Haitani brothers had been arrested because of Tenjiku. Along with the other Heavenly King named Mucho, they also scored a reduced sentence, and today will be their first taste of freedom in half a year.

You'd been forced to stay behind when the battle happened; Rindou told you that he didn't want to have to look after you while fighting. A cover-up for his worry, of course. The younger Haitani isn't known for being as emotionally apt as his older brother, yet somehow that rigidness of his is one of the things you love most about him. To this day, Ran still loves to give you both shit for it.

Rindou knew that you'd be pissed beyond belief once you got the news; he promised not to leave you alone again like last time. You didn't come to his trial nor see him when he got permitted for visitations. Ran is in a different cell, and he had nothing but time.

Of course, other than being absolutely furious with him, there were other reasons you couldn't come see your bone breaker of a boyfriend. With them detained, no one is left to defend their title as the Kings of Roppongi. No one except you, that is.

You're quite the force of nature yourself, even before meeting Ran and Rindou. Roppongi had been your stomping grounds since you were ten, and when they started making a name for themselves you refused to submit. Thinking back, it was quite a comical scene: a scruffy-looking little girl baring her teeth at two brothers who'd basically killed a man not too long ago. Despite how ruthless they truly are, they never stooped so low as to hit a girl, much less gang up on one to prove a point. Instead you became friends, and later on fell in love with the younger Haitani, and he with you. Together you ruled over Roppongi, and the rest is history.

So while your man stared at white walls in the slammer, you splattered blood across brick walls as warnings to those who thought they could conquer the city. All on your own, you reigned over Roppongi the entirety of their sentence, and now it's time for the kings to reclaim their throne.

You hear them before you see them; Ran's whimsical tones against Rindou's monotone rebuttals. They're wearing casual clothes instead of the jumpsuits, Ran's hair is in braids as always, but Rindou...

The extra inches of hair does something to you. It flowed around his face like a lion's mane, faded blue streaks shining in the noon sun. He's wearing contacts instead of his frames, and his jaw is sharper than you ever remembered it. Fresh out of prison, and he looks every bit the king of carnage you adore.

Licking your lips, you saunter over to them. The clacking of your heels turn their heads, and they smirk at you. You could see Rindou tense for a split second before reigning himself back in. Once you get close enough, you rear a hand back and slam it against his cheek hard.

Then you grab him by the collar and smooch him right in front of the jail gates. His recovery is quick, and he pulls you close in a vice-grip. You press a thumb down his chin and take his tongue right from his mouth. The light graze of your teeth against the flat of it earns a growl from Rindou. You left me again, you fucking asshole you hiss as you pull away. You doubted he really heard you though, because he dived right to your neck after your liplock. You sigh, meeting eyes with a disgusted Ran.

This man is going to be the death of you one day.

Mitsuya Takashi:

Throughout your relationship, Mitsuya is nothing but gentle. It almost gave you whiplash how different he is when he's with you and when he's with Toman. He's more than happy to bash some scumbag's face in, yet he couldn't look you in the eye if he shows up to school bruised the next day. You're one of the reasons he got so good at dodging blows in the first place-all of this just to keep you from remembering just how dangerously he lives.

His carefulness translated through his affections, most of all. He didn't hold you, he cradled you. When he kissed you, you could practically feel the repressed passion just burning beneath the surface. He treats you as if you were a dandelion on a windy day.

And while you thought his unspoken sentiments are nothing short of chivalrous and sweet, you also found it quite stupid. You knew what you were getting into when he sheepishly confessed, knew about him being a captain of Toman's second division. So naturally, you'd braced yourself for all sorts of chaos. Plus, only having to witness one side of him irked something inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. You'd made it perfectly clear that you loved him, bruises and all. Yet when he looked at you with such adoring lavender eyes, you couldn't bear to chide him for wanting to treasure you.

So, you decided to show him through other means.

You're waiting for him to finish inside the sewing club room. He's finishing the hemline of a kimono-a birthday present he's preparing for Draken early on. His eyelids hang low, but his gaze is as intense as ever. Nothing is said between the two of you, but you can't help staring at his pursed lips, now bitten red from his habit when focusing. You internally proclaimed your love for him yet again, unable to stop yourself from wandering over to his hunched form.

Just as he looks up from the sewing machine, you dive in with a kiss that, even you had to admit, is a little too intense to be this sudden. Yet you couldn't help it; even the simplest things he did could turn you into quite the sap.

He doesn't fail to reciprocate it, though. His lips, a little rough and a bit wet, switch from caressing your top and bottom lip each time you return to each other. Somehow, it ended up with you sandwiched between him and his desk, thighs on either side of his hips. His hands never stay in one place, smoothing down your uniform and rubbing your back. He never strays too far down your waist, and that tang of frustration sours your sweet little moment yet again.

Bracing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his jaw, you grind down hard against him. His mouth drops open in a barely contained moan, and you close your lips around his tongue. The noise he made when you licked at it could've put BL voice actors to shame. His fingers rake against the sides of your hips, jolting you out of your sultry scenario and into a bout of giggles. And while you sit there steaming in your embarrassment at ruining such a delicious moment, he simply gapes at what just happened, his face stained a pretty crimson.

Well, that was awkward...but you wouldn't have had it any other way.

[demigodreading]

Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus​:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

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Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

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Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

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The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

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Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 

[dark1k]

*slides into messages*

Hello, I am here to request. there’s lots of troubles Connor in RK1K let’s have some troubled Markus.

❛ you can’t save everyone. ❜

Troubled Markus my beloved <3 I took some liberty with this quote and I hope you like the result, thank you for requesting!

•••

“You’re frustrated with me.”

Connor was walking beside him, but his eyes stayed straight ahead and Markus noticed how his LED kept switching between intervals of yellow and red. He doesn’t remember a time, barring their first meeting in the helm of the ship, where he saw the other so exasperated.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Connor said, his voice flat and distant. Angry, then. Teetering towards furious. They reached New Jericho’s main office and Connor opened it, not bothering to wait for Markus to enter first, as he usually would. Instead, he strolled across the room directly to his desk and started shuffling through his DPD files with fervent speed.

Markus sighed and followed him inside, closing the door behind them.

“You seriously didn't expect me to just stand around and watch as that helpless android got mistreated, do you?” Markus asked, puzzled as to why they were having this conversation.

“Yes, I’m aware that you had to insert yourself in a dangerous situation, despite the fact that I was standing right beside you. An investigative, police android who was specifically designed to both handle and deescalate those types of scenes, thank you.” Connor was never this cold with him. They’d never been cold with each other. Everything was warm and electric; their discussions, how they woke up tangled in blankets, and whenever they grabbed onto the other's body in a desperate intensity.

“I had to help,” Markus hesitantly answered, touching his cheek and feeling how his polymer skin was starting to cover a scrape he got in the scuffle. Turns out their perpetrator had a strong right hook, but the leader barely felt his punch in the heat of the moment. “I led the revolution, Connor, I have a responsibility to our people. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t help.”

“A responsibility?” Connor’s tone became incredulous, “How chivalrous of you.”

Markus dropped his briefcase on his desk, his own anger steadily rising. Why was this turning into an argument? If anything, they should be brainstorming future legislation ideas to prevent these kinds of anti-android crimes; they only encountered this one because they had some downtime in between meetings and decided to take a walk in the nearby park. “Well, I had it under control. I stopped the attacker and kept him restrained until DPD arrived — I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over this when it doesn’t even affect you, Connor!”

Connor slammed the file he was holding with such force that Markus jumped, papers scattering across the desk. “Doesn’t affect me?! Are you serious? What if he had a concealed weapon, a knife or a gun, and used it? What if he wasn’t acting alone and you were suddenly outnumbered? You just run into these situations with no regard for your personal well-being, Markus! In case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t fighting in the revolution anymore!” Connor’s face was flushed a bright blue, his chest panting from the pressure of his shouts.

“Stop needlessly sacrificing yourself! Do you have a death wish? You can’t save everyone!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Markus was screwed. He took a cautious step forward, “No! Of course I don’t want that to happen, Connor! I won’t ever let it get that far." Yeah, he definitely feels like an idiot now.

Connor shook his head and turned away, looking out their shared office window to the bustling streets of Detroit below. “Yes, well. It doesn’t matter what you want. You’re a public figurehead, there’s always going to be a risk when it comes to your safety for the rest of your life. But you clearly don’t seem to care about protecting yourself, let alone how your actions affect those in your life. What do you think I would do if you were ever seriously harmed? What about North, Josh, Simon, or the thousands of androids who see you as an inspiration?”

Markus stared at his back, embarrassed in the wake of such words. He never thought of it from their perspective, believing it was better for him to endure the pain rather than another android. He was almost tempted to drop to his knees and beg for Connor to understand, to forgive him. It was their first argument as a couple and the whiplash felt horrible. “Con, wait a minute.”

“No, you wait.” Connor snapped, shoving his fidgeting hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you, don’t you understand? It scares me, keeps me awake at night. It’s exhausting, constantly being reminded of the dangers circulating you.” Markus noticed how he curled in on himself, the spark that ignited their fight seemingly drained from his body. All that remained was a weary sense of defeat.

Markus felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, having been the one who caused the android he loved and cared for more than life itself, to feel anything other than happiness.

He took another slow step forward, raising his hands in the gesture of universal surrender. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being careless when it comes to my safety and I’m sorry for not being more sympathetic of your feelings about it.” He saw Connor turn his head slightly, just enough to glance at Markus for a quick moment, but not enough to fully face him. Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, Markus closed the last bit of distance and stood in Connor’s personal space.

“I just... hate seeing our people abused. How there are injustices done against them, after months of us tirelessly fighting and advocating for the right to live peacefully. But Connor, I swear, I do not want nor would I ever do anything that might endanger you or our relationship. I would be the biggest idiot to place something so important, so special, at jeopardy.” Bending down to stare into honey-colored eyes, Markus stressed his next statement. “I promise, I won’t jump head-first into those kinds of situations again. It was stupid. I’ll be better about cautioning myself, I’m sorry. Again."

Connor quirked a reluctant smile and muttered, “You sound like a broken record.” Turning to face him for the first time since barging into their office, he continued, “Thank you for understanding, I’m also sorry for yelling at you, Markus.”

But Markus just shook his head, indicating that he had nothing to apologize for. “Are we okay?”

Instead of nodding, Connor simply held up his hand and peeled back his polymer skin, sunlight gleaming off the white porcelain beneath. Markus did the same and accepted the request for an interface immediately. Fear from the attack, unease from their fight, and immense amounts of love easily flowed between both androids. It was a loop of growth and acceptance, a learning experience.

Their argument was settled and forgiven by the time they left New Jericho that evening.

[ashesandhalefire]

progress report: i am missing you to death

alex, michael, and a lot of unsaid things.

-

inspired by an entirely out of context teaser shot of alex and a desperate need for interaction that has yet to be satisfied by season 3 canon.

-

Deep Sky provides the coordinates and the time, so Alex shows up and waits.

While he stands in the cool night air, he scans the flat terrain that stretches out to one side and the gully where the highway sits. Other than the whizzing traffic, oblivious to his insignificance, everything is quiet.

After about twenty minutes of the vibrating stillness, Michael slinks out of the shadows with his hat tucked low over his face and leans against the back of the car beside Alex’s SUV.

Blood rushing in his ears, Alex does a second quick sweep of the lot’s perimeter. Nothing obvious has changed in the shadows since he crept through the bushes to check potential sight lines, but Alex isn’t stupid. He was in over his head when Project Shepherd turned out to be just his father’s backroom hobby. Deep Sky outclasses his expertise in a way he isn’t ready to reckon with. They could be anywhere—somewhere in the lot, somewhere down the road, somewhere miles away—and Michael has sauntered directly into their crosshairs.

He left about five feet between them when he stopped to hook one ankle over the other and stare out at the traffic, and the distance is enough for deniability. Alex tightens his hands into anxious fists and forces a long, deep breath through his nose.

“Hey,” Michael says with a casual nod of his head. They stand listening to the roar of tires chewing their ways along the desert highway, and Alex waits for a sign. He checks Michael’s chest for the red point of a laser sight just in case. Nothing happens. They stand a little longer, and then Michael leans over and asks, “You got a light?”

“No. You got a cigarette?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth twitches. It stirs up a fondness that Alex has carefully and surgically distanced himself from for the last few months, and he glances around the parking lot again. Being in love with Michael is too easy. He falls into it without needing to think about it or to try, and the laziness of trusting things to fate is probably why they’ve never gotten it right. He should probably consider himself lucky. Sinking back into those feelings now, fruitlessly, after so much time has passed, will make him sloppy in a way he can’t afford.

“You shouldn’t be here. They could see you.”

Michael tucks his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs, easy and unbothered. Or, almost unbothered. The muscles in his jaw are tight and tense. “You don’t even know what they do or if they’re looking for me. I haven’t exactly been hiding for the last year.”

“That doesn’t mean you should paint a bullseye on your chest.”

“But you should?”

Michael spits barbs like an old man working his way through seeded melon, careless and precise in equal measure. He always finds soft flesh.

“This isn’t a game,” Alex grits out, face growing hot with frustration. He watches a tractor trailer speed by on the road below and shoot a piece of trash out from beneath its tires.

“So tell me what it is, then,” Michael says, mouth turning down and voice suddenly going sharp as a knife’s edge, “because I didn’t really wait around to hear the rest of the story after Valenti said you were joining a cult.”

Alex looks over, and Michael’s brow is pinched to match the irritated wrinkle of his nose. Anger and tension leak off him like heat shimmers off the pavement at midday. He holds his casual posture, ankles crossed and hands tucked, but his eyes are furious.

“It’s complicated.”

Michael scoffs. “You know what, I shouldn’t bother. I should just drag your ass home, no questions.”

And now Alex’s temper flares: “Try it.”

“You think I wouldn’t? To save you?” He laughs meanly. “I’d have you over my shoulder so fucking fast—”

“I don’t need to be saved.”

“Obviously, you do.” Michael pushes off the car. The brim of his hat catches the light from the lamppost and casts half his face in shadows. “We have enough problems on our hands right now. We don’t need to poke the bear.”

“This bear poked first,” Alex says, equally furious. He checks behind Michael before hissing through his teeth, “They kidnapped Mimi. They drugged Jenna Cameron. Turnabout is fair play.”

“This isn’t turnabout! This isn’t even revenge. You’re joining their club. You are flinging yourself into a pit, Alex. A big, dark, deep pit, and when you get far enough in, none of us are going to be able to get you out. We’re gonna lose you. For good. And for no fucking reason.”

“Not for no reason,” Alex says. A tingle of shame trickles up the back of his neck. He knows he’s unprepared, going in without an exit strategy. But he can’t sit on his hands and do nothing. It makes him nervous and paranoid to be idle. “They know things.”

“Who gives a shit? Who gives one fucking iota of a shit about what they know?”

Alex frowns. “You have always wanted to know more—”

“Not like this! Not at the risk of—” Michael puts a fist to his forehead. Then he pulls off his hat and takes another step closer. His voice is softer when he speaks. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this, huh? This isn’t just your dad anymore. This is bigger than that.”

“I know.”

“They are gonna swallow you whole, and what’s the point if you’re just gone?”

Alex draws another long inhale through his nose. The weight of the thick, ugly ring on his finger feels like an anchor dragging him down. The memories of Caulfield crumbling to pieces in a cloud of fire are heavier. “If there’s even a chance that they know something, what choice do I have? I’m not getting caught off guard again. I owe you that much.”

“Bullshit,” Michael says with a jerk of his chin. “Doing it is one thing, but don’t pretend you’re doing it for me.” A pair of low-riding sports cars scream down the highway behind him, bobbing and weaving through the minimal traffic with their engines blaring. One falters behind a gas tanker and then chases its companion off towards the horizon with an roar. “If you had any interest in doing something for me, you would stay.”

Cold uncertainty creeps into Alex’s chest, and no number of layers can keep it out. He wants to ask: would I be welcome? Because he hasn’t felt like he would be in a long time. He had showed up, again and again. Sometimes, he had been wanted, and sometimes, he hadn’t been. The haze of open mic night had cleared for an instant, and the future had been visible, tangible, workable, and then, just as quickly, had vanished into the air. He had been left with Isobel’s obvious, humiliating pity, her mouth turned down as she stood to listen through the last note. That door had been closed. And yet, he wants to ask: would I be welcome? Dignity be damned.

“Are— are you asking me to stay?”

There must be something in his voice when he says it, no matter how hard he tries to control the pathetic wavering and the sunken surprise on his face, that means something to Michael. His whole body eases forward as if carried by an invisible current before he catches himself and says, “I’m done asking people for more than they’re willing to give me.”

“But you would ask? If you thought—?” Alex pushes. “You would want to ask?”

The corners of Michael’s mouth turn down and his gaze narrows almost imperceptibly, but Alex is watching for it. The more Michael closes off, the more Alex feels himself splitting open. Something bright and electric stirs in his chest.

“Because I thought you wouldn’t,” he says, waiting for the moment when Michael’s eyes widen, just slightly, just enough to understand. It comes, exactly as expected, and Michael sways closer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d ask. I’m not about to beg, but I’d ask.”

He’s gotten Michael to beg before, but never for something as serious as love. On his back or on his knees or in the bed of his truck, Alex has heard him plead and bargain for things he wants in the neediest, most desperate whispers, but that had been all carnal, base pleasure, and he had known Alex wouldn’t tell him no. Here, he’s talking about a different type of submission, the kind that humiliates someone like Michael, someone who has never been given enough. Michael won’t beg, and Alex needs to be asked, and a lot of time has been wasted between them thinking that one is the same as the other.

He can’t say he’ll stay. He’s too far in to back out. And, even if he could do it, staying doesn’t mean riding off into the sunset. It means more of the same: the secrets, the conspiracies, the mysteries, the agonies, the scraping open of old wounds in last-ditch efforts to heal them. But it also means Michael, so everything else is white noise.

Michael sees it all play out on his face. He sets his hat on the roof of Alex’s car and then turns to lean against the hatchback. He sighs, and Alex can tell that more weight than usual is resting on his shoulders. It’s not just Max dragging him under. His whole body sags with it, and the sharp focus that’s been in his eyes begins to recede as he drifts away towards the call of whatever nightmare is lurking at the back of his mind.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex says because he lacks for anything else to say, and Michael  stares at his boots with a sad smile. His throat bobs as he swallows down whatever it is that’s too hard to talk about with so little time left to say it, and then he turns to look at Alex.

“Your dad was a piece of shit,” he says, like this is some sort of revelation, “and you’re you.”

The words, said like an accusation, should probably turn his stomach, but they’re also said with a reverence that pushes Alex’s heart up into his throat. Whatever is happening has rocked Michael to his core far beyond how Alex knows to help.

“Less of a piece of shit, I hope.”

Michael stares at him, flexing his hand, and then says, with a nod, “Significantly, yeah.”

“I guess that’s the best I can hope for.” Alex laughs, and then he tips his head back to look at the starless sky. “I’ll take being afraid of being like him over being proud of being like him any day. At least it means I’m going in the right direction.”

Jesse haunts Alex differently than he haunts Michael. To Michael, Jesse is another human face that did something terrible to him, just more proof that looking for another planet to run to is a good idea. Jesse is a more specific phantom for Alex, much harder to let blur into the background of the general awfulness of life. There are reminders of his father all around town: placards, photographs, the sign for the street they lived on, a six-foot statue in town square. Those can be faced much more easily than the hints of his father that Alex finds in the mirror: the deep-set wrinkles in his brows, the cut of his mouth when he frowns, the tone of his voice when he yells, the shape of his thumb. To be a little less like him every day is an exhausting but necessary struggle.

Michael smiles, and Alex, mystified, thinks maybe he managed to help after all.

“Your plan wasn’t really to drag me home over your shoulder, was it?” he asks to distract from how Michael carefully swipes a finger at the corner of one eye.

Michael huffs, and the car jostles. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wasn’t about to let you go without—” He licks his lips and says, “I wasn’t about to let you just go.”

Alex scuffs his shoe against the loose gravel. “Couldn’t get Kyle’s hubcaps off this time?”

Guilt settles over him after he says it. Guilt and something else, something like the relief of setting down a heavy burden that’s been carried too long.

“I thought you were making a mistake back then, too.” Michael takes the comment in stride, accepts it, and reaches out to touch the ring on Alex’s hand. He pinches it carefully, Alex’s fingers curled into the heat of his palm, and rolls his thumb until the ring twists to expose the thinner underside of the band. He strokes, skin then metal then skin, over and over. “Flinging yourself into some dark pit that you’d never come out of again.”

Alex wants to tell him that this is different. He can’t.

“Do me a favor, okay?”

Hand slipping up over Alex’s wrist and into the soft corner of his elbow, Michael crosses the final inches of space between them and pulls Alex close. In the dim light of the parking lot, they might be mistaken for the sort of strangers who meet in shadowy corners for quick exchanges of misery with rough words and rougher touch. But then Michael, trembling, touches the lapel of Alex’s jacket and presses a long kiss to his cheek.

He keeps his mouth there, breath hot and soft, and, before he gathers himself enough to continue, Alex says, “I’ll come back.”

Michael laughs, but it sounds like a gasp for air. “Not even gonna let me ask?”

Alex hums. “I’ll come back.”

“Yeah, you’ll come back,” Michael warns, “or I’ll come get you. And it won’t be fucking subtle.”

It sends a shiver down his spine to think of Michael storming a place as infinitely large as Deep Sky feels. If it comes to that, he’d be better off left behind. But as the thought comes, Michael’s grip shifts and the tentative press of their sides becomes a full-bodied hug that envelopes him like a warm breeze. His nose turns into the side of Michael’s neck: rain, crisp and fresh; gasoline, but faint; smoke, from his fire pit.

“I’m not really going anywhere. It’ll be fine.”

Michael squeezes, and Alex squeezes back. Everything else he wants to say is too big for this moment. And, selfishly, he wants to know that Michael will wait to hear it. He scolds himself for the thought, because they’ve each done their share of waiting miserably at the wayside, but then he lets it stand. Michael squeezes again, fingertips digging into separate points as he clings.

Alex cups a hand to the back of his head and touches his curls. He thinks about what it would mean to kiss Michael now, to kiss someone that he loves, who loves him, and imagines a tower of precariously stacked dominoes. Michael laughs wetly, and Alex lets go first, fingers lingering reluctantly.

[rocorambles]

Mending the Cracks

Pairing: Daishou x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Choking, Spitting, DDLG, Degradation, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation

Summary: Daishuo prides himself on his cool and collected facade, his ability to not let anyone see past his polite and put together appearances unless he wishes them to. But Kuroo has always had a special talent for getting under his skin and now it’s your turn to help mend the cracks the messy haired captain has accidentally created.  

OR

Roco once again turns a request that should have been just a rough jealous angry spicy PWP fic into a whole angst/fluff/comfort fic WITH rough jealous angry spice~

Your heart sinks as the referee blows the whistle signifying the end of the game, pride and disappointment swirling in a confusing mixture inside of you as you rush to your feet, already making your way out of the stands and towards the locker rooms. It had been a good game, a great game, one Nohebi should be proud of regardless of the end result, that Daishou should be proud of. Yet, you know that’s the farthest thing from what any of the boys are thinking of as they dejectedly shake hands with Nekoma, another chance of Nationals taken right from underneath their noses, Daishou’s last chance of Nationals gone, just like that. 

You should be paying more attention to your surroundings, especially in such a crowded building with masses of spectators and athletes, but you’re too focused on rushing to your boyfriend as fast as you can, barely dodging the crowds and receiving more than a few dirty looks from people you accidentally bump into in your haste. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is comforting your lover, being there for him and reminding him that he’s still the most amazing person you know regardless of how one game went. And determinedly you quickly hook around the corner of the hall, only to yelp when you crash into something firm, the impact making you stagger back. 

Mortification rushes through you once your body steadies itself and you fumble for words, stuttering out apologies when you realize what, or more specifically who, you’ve run into, practically diving to pick up the knee pads the other has dropped because of your carelessness. You can barely bring yourself to look up at the other person’s face, already cringing at the look of irritation you know you’ll receive (and frankly, deserve). But it’s the polite thing to do and your eyes slowly travel up and up a long, lean frame, only to blink in surprise when you see the amused smile on a handsome cat-like face as he plucks his knee pads from your hands. 

He looks...familiar and you take a second to appraise him, eyes widening in shock when you recognize the Nekoma uniform and, emboldened by his lack of annoyance, you shyly smile, politely congratulate him on his team’s win and earning their ticket to Nationals. 

You’re secretly glad your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, already knowing how childishly competitive he can get, especially where Nekoma is concerned. And you know he’d throw a fit if he saw you “consorting with the enemy”. But it’s the least you can do after running the poor guy over. Plus, Daishou really only has an issue with one person on the team and what are the chances that this athlete is…

“Oya? It’s not everyday someone decides to literally run me over. Nice to meet you. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” 

Crap. 

You pray to anyone who’s listening that Daishou doesn’t walk in on this scene, can only imagine how bad it would look to be caught chatting with Kuroo Tetsurou of all people only minutes after Nekoma had swiped Nohebi’s chances of Nationals away from them, even before you’ve talked to your own boyfriend. 

But when it rains it pours and unknown to you, narrowed eyes scowl at the both of you from down the hallway. 

If Daishou’s honest, the outcome of the match isn’t surprising. Nekoma has always been a stronger team than Nohebi, as aggravating as it is to admit. But it doesn’t make the loss any easier and he knows he’s just looking for a reason to pick a fight when annoyance curls inside of him at how quietly and respectfully Kuroo shakes his hand, not a hint of the other’s usual provoking or teasing after the match is over. He knows it’s out of sportsmanship, but he can’t help but believe he sees his own self-pity reflected in those feline eyes. And he storms out before he accidentally makes a scene, mustering every last bit of his snake-like charm to plaster a smile on his face and force out some pleasantries and kind words to his team, all the while wanting nothing more than to rush into your arms and lock himself away as he comes to terms with his dreams being dashed. 

So imagine the stomach sinking shock he feels as he rounds the corner in his search of you, only to stare in disbelief as you smile up at literally the only person in this entire building who he’d rather you not ever meet, the person who led the team that had just crushed his team’s hopes, seemingly in no hurry to excuse yourself. 

Shock makes way for hot fiery fury fueled by jealousy and insecurity and before he can fully register what he’s doing, he’s storming towards you, startling both of you when he suddenly cuts in between, rigid and stiff with hostility and anger as he shoves his face mere inches away from Kuroo’s surprised one. 

It’s startling to say the least to have his view of you suddenly replaced by a larger figure and Kuroo instinctively steps back, uncertainty filling him when he sees heavy shadows of pure unadulterated ill-intent in Daishou’s eyes.

Interactions with the Nohebi captain are always playful, even if the stinging words aren’t always exactly lighthearted and Kuroo enjoys their bantering and rivalry underscored by respect for each other that both captains would die before admitting to. But this...this is different and Kuroo can’t help but think that somehow they’ve accidentally crossed the line to a point of no return, that something terrible is on the verge of happening, jaw instinctively tightening and fists clenching in self-defense.  

“Winning wasn’t enough for you, so now you’re trying to rub more salt in my wounds by hitting on my girl?” 

Oh. OH. 

Kuroo KNEW you looked familiar, unsure where to place you, but it all makes sense as his brain quickly puts the pieces together, frantically working under pressure as the snake in front of him rattles his tail and hisses. You’re the new girlfriend he’s seen in all of Daishou’s social media posts recently. And suddenly it’s his turn to fumble over words as he tries to calm the furious athlete in front of him, desperately trying to find a way to de escalate the situation without having to resort to anything physical, trying to reassure the other captain that it’s not what it looks like, wincing at how cliche that phrase sounds. 

You’re frozen as you watch the taller man continue stammering explanations, stunned by the feral aura radiating from your boyfriend, unsure what’s the best way to approach the situation without exacerbating the issue. But when you see Daishou take a step forward, your hands fly to the back of his jersey, harshly tugging at the fabric in a bid to drag him away from Kuroo, to keep him from doing something stupid that he’d regret. 

You wonder if you did the right thing as you cower when he whirls around to face you, pinning you down with a practically murderous gaze. But then you see it, underneath the blazing fires of his eyes, the vulnerable insecurities he keeps so deeply hidden within him, that he’d shared about to you in full confidence, raring back to life and tearing him up inside. 

Am I not good enough?

The question is unspoken, but you hear it clear as day and you want to scream at him, touch him, anything to wipe away the torment in his gaze. No, you're more than good enough. So much more. And despite the way you feel like a tiny mouse about to be swallowed whole, you easily let him drag you away, mindlessly following him and lacing your fingers with his bone crushing grip. 

It's silent as you scramble to keep up with his determined pace, clutching at his arm and pressing against his side in quiet obedient comfort, a reminder that you're with him every step of the way, out of your own desire and love for him. And although his countenance remains stony, your heart swells when he instinctively leans into your touch, the dark fog around him lightening just a bit. 

Not a word is said even as he locks his bedroom door behind the two of you, even as he pulls you onto his bed, wrapping his body tightly around you not unlike the creature he's nicknamed after. 

And you let him, ignoring the discomfort you feel as he constricts your body too tightly to be comforting, murmuring how amazing he was on the court, what a respected captain he is, how you know there's still so many opportunities for him in life, volleyball, anything he wants even if Nationals wasn't his fate. 

But when he remains silent, you nervously take a deep breath, knowing it's time to address the elephant in the room. 

"Suguru, you know I love you, right? I only have eyes for you and no one else. Kuroo-"

You squeal in surprise when you're suddenly pinned to the bed by a toned body, gasping when a hand wraps around your throat rendering you silent, whimpering at the venomous look staring down at you. 

"Don't say his fucking name, especially when you're in bed with me." 

But you need to explain! Need to clear the air! And you desperately claw at his hand digging into your neck, struggling to force words out, only to moan when lips crash down on yours, a tongue slithering inside of your mouth and ravishing you, fangs harshly nipping at your lips in a warning to remain silent and pliant. 

You pant for breath when he finally pulls away, trying to reach up and cradle his face in your hands, keep him still as you explain everything to him. But your efforts are futile and you moan when he promptly spits in your mouth the second you try to open your mouth to speak, body instinctively grinding against his when the hand on your throat tightens once again, mind busy trying to obediently keep his saliva in your mouth while simultaneously breathing through your constricted airway. 

"Not a single word from you unless it's about me and how good I'm making you feel, understood? Swallow." 

Daishou trained you well and you're quick to gulp down the pooled liquid in your mouth, baring your neck in submission as his lips and teeth possessively mark the expanse of your neck, sucking and biting marks you know you'll be proudly wearing for days afterwards, traveling down and down as your clothes are pulled off and haphazardly thrown away. 

The room fills with breathy moans and sighs as you let him have you, let him mark every inch of you, relishing in the slight twinges of pain you feel when teeth sink in too deep, when lips suck too hard all over your collarbones, the valley between your breasts, your rib cage. But you wail when he deems you sufficiently marked, a hot wet mouth wrapping around one of your nipples, fingers harshly twisting and pulling the other. 

"DADDY!"

Pride soars inside of Daishou at the nickname, a name he knows only he’s lucky enough to hear from your lips, and he pulls away from your aroused bud just long enough to spit out a few choice words. 

“That’s right, baby girl. I’m your daddy. I’m the one who takes care of you. I’m the one who makes you feel good. So why the fuck did daddy find his precious girl chatting it up with some other man like a dirty little slut? Daddy not good enough for you anymore?”

Your head swirls from the degrading words, thighs clenching at hearing his endearing terms for you, but tears pricking at your eyes when you hear the trickle of doubt that seeps into his last question. Shame floods through you as you frantically shake your head, salty droplets leaking from your eyes as you begin to sob, desperately clutching Daishou’s sides and trying to pull him closer to you. 

“No, Daddy! Never! Only you! You’re my only daddy. I love you. I’m sorry! I’m your good girl. Please let me show you that I’m your good girl?” 

Daishou chuckles, warm fondness beginning to take off the frostiest edges of his insecurities as he watches you flail and fight against his hold in your pursuit of making him feel good, your greedy fingers trying to drag him closer to you, your hips grinding and humping his hardening cock like a bitch in heat as you babble and beg to ride him, suck him off, help him cum. 

It’s heartwarming in the most depraved way how loyal and dedicated you are to him, how easily you’ll let yourself fall into debauchery just to please him. And in his heart of hearts, he knows deep down that you’d never betray him, that you love him just as much as he loves you. But the heart and the mind aren’t always on the same page and he can’t help the way his eyes narrow and his stomach twists uncomfortably when he replays the scene of Kuroo and you in the hall, even though he knows the chance of you being swept away so easily by someone else is close to null, even though he knows Kuroo is a decent enough man to back off once he knows you’re a taken woman. 

“Settle down, little one. I know you’re a desperate slut for daddy, but today you’re going to behave, okay? You’re going to lay there, let daddy thoroughly remind you who you belong to, and thank me for it, understand?” 

It’s a rhetorical question and you barely have time to nod your head before Daishou’s blunt cock head is pressing against your already drenched entrance. You claw at the bedsheets when he suddenly slams in balls deep inside of you, your sopping wet folds easily making way for his cock, and your toes curl at the abrupt stretch, eyes already shamelessly rolling to the back of your head from the sensation of finally being stuffed full. 

“Daddy, so good, daddy, daddy, daddy” becomes your mantra, barely discernible amidst your wanton moans as he hardly gives you time to adjust before he’s starting up a brutal pace, hips slamming into yours, balls slapping your ass with every thrust. It’s embarrassing how close to the edge you already are, how you nearly came just from his cock stretching you full, but you can’t help it when Daishou knows your body even better than you, when your pussy is practically molded just for him, trained to be his perfect cock sleeve and you wail as you fall to pieces around his cock, body convulsing and mind shattering from the overwhelming pleasure. 

But he doesn’t let up, continuing his relentless onslaught, smirking down at how broken you already look, drool and tears staining your wrecked face, incoherent babbling and wails slipping past your lips as overstimulation begins to wash over you, body now shaking uncontrollably as pain and pleasure swirl inside of you. 

“That’s it, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Keep on taking it. Fucking take my cock! This is what you were made for. Being daddy’s cock slave that he fucks silly. Going to use you until you can’t even think about anyone or anything else other than daddy’s cock.” 

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be than in between your legs and he swears he could die happy like this, cock buried deep within your tight pussy, would happily live the rest of his life bottomed out inside of you if he had the chance. But he’s only human after all and he can feel his end approaching, balls tightening and pace becoming wild and erratic when he hungrily devours the sight of your lewd state as you dopily smile, brokenly chanting “I’m daddy’s cock slave”, slurring thank yous over and over again. His hand reaches down to furiously rub your clit and all it takes is your second fall from grace, the sensation of your tight walls clamping and clenching around his cock, milking him of all his cum, to empty his balls inside of you. 

It’s silent again save for both your shaky breaths as you come down from your respective highs and Daishou carefully slumps down to the side of you, pulling you to also lay on your side, wrapping you in his arms as your lower bodies remain connected, hooking his chin on top of your head and letting you burrow into his neck and cuddle up beside him. 

But despite all his earlier bravado, you can feel his scales shift and skin shed as he reveals his softer, more vulnerable side, can feel him slump and his defenses crumble in the way he clings onto you, and you wriggle out of your comfortable position, ignoring the throbbing between your legs and all over you body as you determinedly reposition yourself until the two of you are face to face, forehead and noses pressed against each other. 

“Suguru, I love you. I love you so much. You’ll always be more than enough for me.”

You smile at the love and hope you see reciprocated back at you in your lover’s eyes, giggling when it’s quickly replaced by panic and embarrassment as he holds you at arms length, staring in dismay at all the punishing marks he had left all over your body before frantically nearly crushing you as he pulls you tightly back towards him, apologies spilling from his mouth for being so rough, a stupid stereotypically jealous boyfriend. And you roll your eyes as he suddenly starts raving and ranting about how this is somehow all Kuroo’s fault, shutting him up with a forceful kiss of your own, a playful smirk sitting on your face. 

“You told me not to mention his name and yet here you are, going on and on about him right after we’ve had sex. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re a little more interested in him than two rival captains should be. Should I be the jealous one?”

You bite back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Daishou’s face as he stares agape at you, jaw slack and open wide in disbelief at your blasphemous lies, using whatever latent talent you have as an actor to tap a finger to your lips in a parody of an inquisitive thoughtful gesture. 

“I’m pretty open minded, Suguru. We can invite him for a threesome if you want. Ooh! Who do you think would top? Kuroo? You’d look so pretty on bottom for once, don’t you think? Or would you prefer to shut him up-”

You squeal in laughter and surprise when you’re suddenly being suffocated and crushed by a heavy weight on top of you, Daishou flipping the two of you over and laying his whole weight on top of you, shoving your face into his chest and grunting at you to shut up as he nuzzles his face into the top of your head and closes his eyes to rest, dragging you to an exhausted slumber with him as his breathing even outs and lulls your own heavy eyelids into shutting. 

Somewhere else in Tokyo Kuroo sneezes out of the blue, curiously wondering if someone is talking about him.

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

49. 5 times harry was a pain in the a** until he wasn't

Prompt used- holding onto others shoulder for support |

Harry and Draco still hated each other, only this time they gave titles or did they really.. ? | ENEMIES to FRIENDS to LOVERS TROPE | SEXUAL TENSION |

The first time draco gave harry the title of being a pain in the ass was when they had lost the quidditch match out of dispute Between the match. And it happened so because they both caught the snitch and wasn't ready to let go. They remained there fighting for an hour until professor McGonagall had to practically drag them by their ears into her office

" explain " professor McGonagall sighed as she pushed her glasses over the bridge of her nose

And they began babbling like idiot, swearing at each other and going on and on about who caught it first.

" o-okay- mr. Potter- mr. Mal- okay shut up you two. I didn't bring you both here to listen to you babbling like a bumbling band of baboons " professor McGonagall sighed. It was hard to believe Harry had held back his laugh

" you're both 18 years old, mature enough to put away your rivalry, but instead you both fight like mind numbing idiots about who caught it first. I've never met any of the two people who so desirably cannot tolerate each other for even a single minute. What is the matter with you two? I thought you had signed up solidarity? Mr. Malfoy is one thing but harry you, I didn't expect this from you " draco looked thoroughly offended as professor McGonagall sighed.

" i promise you this is the last time I see the two of you creating dispute and therefore to solve this, as captains of the teams, you will be in the field, looking for the snitch for as Long as it takes for you two to apologise to each other and settle this and learn how to play together "

" but prof-"

" not a word, mr. Potter. I said what I said. Now take your brooms and settle this or I will have you both banished from the team " she sternly said.

Draco and harry rolled their eyes at each other, mimicking their lip syncs and stomping towards the field.

They remained for almost one hour, still yelling at each other and pushing away, arousing another dispute until darkness invaded and it was becoming harder to see, harry suggested the Wildest idea

" Oi malfoy !" Harry yelled catching draco's attention

" what ?" Draco snapped

" stop being fucking dramatic, listen to me -"

" I won't-"

" shut up. It's getting late and I need an out just as much as you "

" I'm listening " draco raised an eyebrow

" one of us should fake an injury, that way we won't have to stay here the entire time and we can just pretend around professor McGonagall . What do you say ?" He suggested, stumbling Little in the air

Draco thought for a moment, before he sighed " for someone so dumb, that's a clever idea "

" who's faking the injury?"

Harry smiled viciously

__________________________

" your a fucking pain in the ass " draco sneered as he hopped on one leg, his arms around Harry's shoulder for fake support

" that's what you get for calling me dumb sweetheart " harry smugly smiled

" never call me sweetheart or I'll chop you off in pieces " draco snapped lightly

" okay, sweetheart " harry smirked as they reached the hospital wing and before draco Could've said anything else, harry had started talking to madam pomfrey and then basically ran away.

" what an ass " draco mumbled to himself, laying on the bed thinking about harry.

__________________________

The second time draco honorably gave him the title was when they were working on a project on muggle sports for muggle studies.

" if you know it so well, why don't you just do it " draco Snapped

" because I don't want to. not like this anyway. I've only got the material, you can write it " harry shrugged leaning back against the common room chair comfortably

" the information you basically stole from the library. That's not even called researching " draco threw a fit

" okay Smarty pants, calm down. How else do you even suggest us to do this? Want me to watch a muggle tv show or something or what? This is the best I can do " harry frowned

Draco rolled his eyes, groaning to himself " I want you to share your thoughts on this potter, not just copy down Ron's work which by the way is abysmal "

" hey, we worked together on that-"

" save it. I'll do it on my own, while you can sit there and just- b- just bloody enjoy your whatever it is that you're drinking " draco irritatably replied as he stood up

" fine by me " harry shrugged.

Draco groaned, throwing a pencil at harry " you're a fucking pain in the ass "

" you too sweetheart " harry chuckled as he watched draco walk away.

Harry although did ended up writing up his Portion and better than draco.

" what an ass " draco mumbled to himself in class with his chin over his palm, rolling his eyes.

" I know sweetheart " harry whispered as he settled down next to draco.

Draco narrowed his eyes, throwing a fit before mumbling something to himself and looking away.

" such a darling you are " harry chuckled lightly

_____________________________

The third time draco called harry by the so title was when harry had pulled up a prank. However It wasn't meant for draco.

" what the fuck is your problem !" Draco exclaimed, drenched in slime

" fuck- holy shit " harry pressed his lips to control his uncontrollable urge to laugh " it wasn't- it was for Seamus. We just had a bet and you- you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time "

Draco rolled his eyes trying to wipe off the slime from his black suit " you ruined my fucking suit "

" well- that- I mean who wears a suit at school really. That's your fault " harry poked his bottom lip out, shrugging in innocence until he recieved the death glare from draco "nope definitely my fault "

" you're such a pain in the ass "

" you call me that often " harry grinned as though it was a compliment

" you deserve it " draco sighed, tired from all the snapping, still trying to get that thing off him.

" I'll make it up to you, alright. I mean of course you're gonna say I am ass but your suit looks expensive, what say, I treat you at hogsmeade, take you to shrieking shack and show you the wonders behind ?" Harry suggested amusingly

Draco contemplated for a moment " you better get me a nice treat and if you dare so leave me alone there-"

" you'll chop me off into pieces. I know " harry smiled lightly.

Draco however much furious was not so anymore, he discovered the whole thing to be actually quite funny but dared so not to give harry the satisfaction of laughing.

" you've got something on your shirt " draco pointed as he Walked towards harry.

" what ?" Harry looked bemused at his shirt until he felt arms wrapped around him

" oops, sorry, now you got something on your shirt " draco smirked as he broke the Taunting hug and Walked away, smiling to himself.

Harry was almost furious at draco, Only until he saw draco casting the most impressive cleaning spell over him walking. Harry was thoroughly impressed, and somewhat attracted, not that he admitted it to himself.

" what a sweetheart " harry Chuckled.

_______________________________

The fourth time harry recieved the title from draco was when they were working on an auror mission together and harry had accidentally petrified draco along with the criminal.

The criminal was taken by the team to azkaban while harry took draco back to the hotel, supporting him over his shoulder.

Draco had broken out of the spell only when they reached the hotel room and his first instincts were to push away harry and basically grabbing a pillow and throwing at his face.

" what In the fucking sorcery was that for ?" Harry hissed, throwing the pillow on the bed

" for casting me under the spell, you fucking moron " draco hissed

" I'm never working with you again, I swear" draco snapped

" oh stop being dramatic, you were just a collateral damage, I had to throw the spell, you just accidentally got hit because you were too close. These things happen draco"

"and what if you had thrown a curse or what if it would've backfired. Would you had taken the responsibilities for it and took care of me while the criminal would've ran away" draco angrily yelled

" draco- just calm down- it's all fine-"

" no it's not Harry. You're fucking reckless and careless and you make awful lot of mistakes unknowingly and you just assume that a sorry can fix it but somethings are not fixed by sorry and guess what you haven't even Apologized" draco Snapped as he started packing up his fastly and almost left the room until he turned around one last time at harry

" you're a fucking pain in the ass, potter" and he left to wait by the car for harry.

Guilty, harry packed away his things and picked up the watch Draco had left and sat down in the car next to draco, who hadn't calmed down even a little bit and simply ignored harry.

It wasn't until the night when harry was helping draco into his apartment that he finally spoke

" for the record draco, I would've took care of you if something had backfire, risking the criminal away because your life is more important. I'm not that idiot but I deserved it"

Draco nodded understandably " I know "

" and I'm also very sorry " harry pressed his lips in a thin line, pocketing his hands and walking away backwards to get back to the car

" oh by the way- you didn't say I'm an ass " harry wittily said

Draco shook his head, " what an ass "

" there's the sweetheart of a draco malfoy I know" harry chuckled and ran away downstairs.

" fucking dork " draco mumbled to himself smiling as he watched harry driving away from his window.

_______________________________

The fifth time draco called harry a pain in the ass at a bar when they were all hanging out with their friends, joining in a celebration and draco was dancing away with a random Stranger and he much enjoyed it until of course harry had to interrupt

" excuse me but can you please put away your dick from my boyfriend " harry possessively said.

The stranger immediately walked away in a rush before draco Could've even said a word

" what the fuck did you do ? I was having fun- and who the fuck made you my boyfriend " draco snapped, standing still watching harry standing silent

" I can't believe this. You're a fucking pain the ass harry " draco rolled his eyes, walking away until without even so of an anticipation he was whirled around and met with a pair of lips on his own, leaving him gasping.

" harry-"

" shush " Harry mumbled against his lips and draco finally gave in, pushing his hands into Harry's hair, tugging at the roots erupting a low moan from harry, inappropriately sloppily kissing harry, pulling their bodies closer if possible and definitely ruining their so called friendship.

_____________________________

" how did it happen ?" Ron asked as he slurped his lemonade draco made him

" well you know- he's just a pain in the ass " draco shyly said

" I thought I was last night, wasn't I " harry whispered smirking as he put his arms Around draco's waist from the side and pulling him closer, kissing his neck.

" fuck you" draco Blushed as he bit on his straw

" sweetheart, we only did it last night " harry Chuckled as he kissed behind Draco's ear

Draco's eyes widened, his cheeks attaining a much deeper tone of red

" get a room for fucks sake " Ron groaned as he walked away, mimicking puking.

" we had until you came in " harry yelled back

" harry " Draco whined as he slapped Harry's chest Playfully, shyly laughing.

Harry laughed away until he got kissed by draco, sloppily, leaving him gasping in shock.

" what ? You thought you're the only one with a dirty Mouth " draco raised an eyebrow suggestively

" fuck me " Harry melted away as he kissed draco again.

Well, this was fun...

Requests open | Dialogue Prompt requests open as well.

Day 48- because, its you and me | Day 50- putting a hand over others mouth shut them up

[herstarburststories]

(He Isn't) A Good Guy

Kinktober day 15: humiliation kink

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x reader

Summary: Jensen is tired of everyone saying he's a good guy.

Warnings: dirty talk (kind dark bc of the kink), handjob, p in v, riding, cheating, possessive, slapping

You have to be careful with what you're good at. You might just end up doing it for the rest of your life.

Jensen Ackles never caught the appeal of that saying. If you were really that good at something, why wouldn't you want to do it?

Such a mindset was as constant as a mother’s love and made Jensen's loyal company for a long time during his career. He pictured it would last forever: the head pats, positive criticism, and his charm that caught more and more fans. The Hollywood man was happy, really. He grew to be a good — if not great — actor. He had a wife and three kids that were the love of his life. He could go anywhere and find a job through the instantaneous recognition that Supernatural bestowed upon him, not to mention its gift of a best friend, Jared, and the raw amount of personal growth he went through. 

He was perfect in the most diversified aspects of his life, and, God, it was boring as fuck.

Whatever Jensen did, he was excused for it. Plenty of people would light themselves on fire for him (and hey, don’t think he was ungrateful for that), but being called a good guy that apparently couldn’t do any wrongs while the rights came out even in his sleep could be devastatingly annoying.

He thought he might have some problem, perhaps even a middle-aged crisis. Come on, who, with his life, would feel compelled to look for something else? Ackles had the money, the friends, and family. He had everything everyone dreamed about, but he just wanted to wake up.

Then, he met you.

You were the woman in her twenties who was barely starting in the media business, yet you had enough luck and talent to evoke the CW's attention that early. They wouldn't hire you as an official director, but you were in the training process. You were a prodigy, as most people on the set liked to joke about.

You sighed, slightly frustrated about the direction these takes were going. Asking Ackles to follow orders was roughly the same as punching a wall; the brick didn't break, and it only left you with scuffed knuckles and growing irritation. “Jensen, you need to tilt your head to the side or we won't be able to catch her face on camera.” 

“I'm doing that,” he said as if it was obvious.

“The camera doesn't agree with you.” You crossed your arms, tired of having this heated squabble again.

“I know how to shoot sex scenes, Y/N. I've been doing that for—”

You interrupted him: “I'm aware of how long the show I'm working on has been going, Jensen. Now, take my hint and do as I say. I get that you have done this before, but we are trying a new position, so your M.O. might not work.” You knew he was a good actor. Supernatural wouldn't be what it was if it wasn't for his character. Still, you needed this episode to be perfect in terms of filming. It was your first actual chance to prove how worthy you were. Jensen had his career and little apple pie life settled, but you had to scratch and squirm to insert yourself into the industry. You knew what you were doing. Nonetheless, you attempted to pacify his self-assurance by being assertive and gentle at the same time: “Just listen to me and try it. Please.”

The green-eyed man opened his mouth, very much ready to spit out a contradicting retort, but at the last second, he clamped his jaw shut and opted for a smirk instead. “Yeah, boss.”

It was the first time in years that someone actually came at him. Jensen felt the bruise aching his ego that spiked a sudden pressing need to puff out his chest and say I know what I am doing. Why don't you watch? 

He'd call that the Texan man behavior, alpha macho testosterone levels on high, but, honestly, he was just mad that someone had the audacity to talk to him like that, as if he was a rookie on his job. Jensen's whole body heated up, his jaw clenched, and his breath caught on his throat when he glanced at you — of course, he'd never put a hand on a woman, but God, that was infuriating. He wasn't a middle school child in need of a lecture.

But this was his first impression. As you gave everyone fifteen minutes to relax before shooting again, he went to his trailer, gait unnecessarily heavy like a child throwing a tantrum. Jensen locked his trailer and closed his eyes, trying to pick out his emotions — how long have it been since he got mad? That couldn't be healthy.

Do as I say. Your words were echoes in his head, spinning and making him dizzy. Just listen to me.

And the look you gave him. It wasn’t adoration as a fan or nervousness like a new worker. You didn’t excuse him as anyone else did. You glanced at him as you would to any other person on the set that had made a mistake: you pointed it out and didn't offer any sugarcoating to dull the blow.

It felt refreshing.

Shaking your head at the scene unrolling on the other side of the camera, you let out an exhausted sigh. This was your second directed episode, and Jensen wasn't making it easy for you. He always seemed like such a nice guy, yet you weren't surprised by his mulish behavior. You had called him out, and now he was turning it back around on you. Celebrities were complicated on their one, but male ones even more. Their egos required a role for themselves.

“Everyone, ten minutes!” you announced, placing the headphones on the table next to you. Your crew started dispersing, Ackles included, when his name left your lips: “Jensen, c'here.”

The green-eyed man arched his eyebrows, not sure why you wanted to talk to him so privately. Still, he approached you.

When you were a kid, you went through a phase when your smile wasn’t very pretty. It was too much teeth, eyes too tight, and head lifted high enough to show under your chin. Your parents couldn't just up and tell you that it looked terrible, obviously, so they just showed you multiple pictures until you decided that you didn't like something about it.

Maybe that would work with Jensen.

You patted the chair next to you, and Jensen sat there with a wisp of hesitation. You clicked on the scene you had been trying to get right for almost an hour. The replay went smoothly, Ackles's shoulders shrugging by the end. He didn't see the fuss about this.

“Seems good,” he said nonchalantly. 

You squinted your eyes at him. Someone as talented as him couldn't be serious about not seeing a problem with how ridiculous his vampire transformation through the last season was. “Seems like a sitcom”

“It's a dumb scene.” Jensen shrugged.

You groaned. “Can't you just accept that you can do better?”

Jensen crossed his arms and straightened his posture, holding a defensive atmosphere around him. God, he was infuriating sometimes. “Maybe you can. I've been doing great for years. You might not be the right director for this kind of show.”

“Just do as I said. You're in the scene, but I'm the audience. I can see right through you. I'm seeing things from another perspective and trying to tell you how to improve. That's what a director is for. Go ahead and try it!”

Your friendly conversation with the lead apparently had the opposite effect. As soon as he went back to his place in front of the camera, Jensen Ackles appeared to acquire the stubborn, incredibly unprofessional desire to take on all the worst camera angles only to get on your nerves.

“Are you kidding me!?” You elevated your voice, furious at how careless he was. All your patience has been zapped. “You're doing it on purpose. How can you be so petty?”

“Me? Petty!?” he said between gritted teeth, almost hissing as he walked to you. “I've been playing Dean for years. I know him more than—”

“I know. You do a big job with that character, but Jensen, you make mistakes. It's part of the process. You're a grown-ass man, so you can take what I'm saying and make something useful out of it. I'm the director; you are the actor. I don't care about how long you’ve been on this stage, and I don’t care for incompetence. You ain't doing good, so do as I say and fix it.”

Jensen tensed up when you said that, exhaling shortly while his eyes glued on you. You were half his age, yet the way you presented yourself — arms stiffly crossed, eyes ablaze and chin lifted — spoke of your power on this film set. At the end of the day, he was just a man, and he was in your court. Just like that, you held all control. He bit his bottom lip, neck red with the heat of anger and adrenaline that lashed through his body.

He was furious, yet all his body could do was react as if you had kissed him instead of punching his ego.

Anger and luxury both came from the same place. They were just different branches on the same tree growing from a common seed.

The half of Supernatural's leader actor started doing it on purpose, then. Not acting in a way that could collide with his career or mess up the shooting schedule, but an occasional bitched scene here and there when he had a chance, and always when you were in charge of the scene.

He relished in it: someone treating him like a man and not an untouchable idol. A woman who would look straight in his eyes and not be too intimidated, excited, or lovey-dovey to tell him all the bad things he needed to hear. You were someone who could put him in his place.

Unfortunately, playing around can only get you so far. If you bring someone to the pool, they won't be satisfied with just one foot in the water. They'd want to swim, splash water at their friends to get them all wet and soaked too. 

What started with provocative, fuming rage and nuisance soon melted into something deadlier. It was something unmanageable, a burning fire that attracted all the wrong kinds of glances. Yet, neither of you could help but follow where the smoke signal led.

You were here, in each other's arms. It was a dirty little secret that went way beyond just an illicit affair: it was about what you two could give to each other without even asking, and what other people could never quite comprehend. . . And they didn't need to. Jensen had you, and you had Jensen. To desire and savor the result was enough.

Your hand was wrapped around his cock, moving up and down in a painfully slow rhythm. You had two legs wrapped around his, your face hanging next to Jensen's — close enough that you could kiss all of his freckles if this were out of love and not necessity — as you spoke.

“Everybody thinks you are the good guy. Little mister perfect.” Ackles groaned at the malice in your tone. He hated that — how everyone called him perfect, how every single person told him he was such a good guy. You were his only grounding force under the blinding lights. “But I know you aren't. You are nasty, disgusting, and so needy for someone to put you in your fucking place.”

The male's lips parted slightly, a pornographic moan leaving his body. This perversion felt like a hair short of sin. Who in their right mind would be so turned on by a girl half his age picking up all the worst things one could say about him, only to throw them exactly where it hurt the most?

Why, in the name of God, did he want more? Why was Jensen bucking his lips, needy noises that he never dons escaping his trembling body? Why was his cock hard as fuck, ruinining your fingers with sloppy precum while he internally begged you for more? 

It was like receiving a miracle and giving it to the devil.

“Look at you,” you continued, a smirk painted on your features, “getting fucked in your trailer by the woman who basically told you to stop whining and get your job done like a real man.” You loved being in control of the usually overconfident Hollywood star. If only his dearest fans knew how much of a submissive he was — how he just needed to be told where he belonged. 

“Y/N…” Jensen managed to say, his chest moving erratically fast. You leaned in to press your lips to his, and he whimpered. Ackles' hand slid to your waist in an attempt to pull you closer, but all he got was a slap on the arm and lack of friction on his dick. “Y/N!”

“I didn't say you could touch me, stubborn idiot.” You hissed, getting up to throw away your skirt and underwear. Jensen sniffed, feeling so ridiculous about himself. You had way too much control over him, but he couldn't really care about anything other than you touching his cock right now. Fuck composure or else. “I'm not your wife. I'm not one of your thirsty fans.” Each word came out in a harsh tone, those syllabus together had no other duty but hurt him, and he loved how they agonized in his body, redirected right to his hardness. You got free of the skirt and your soaked lace panties. “I don't need you. This?” You gestured at yourself and Ackles, a wry laughter coming out as you climbed on his lap. “I'm doing you a favor. So, you better thank me and take whatever I choose to give you. Understood?” Jensen's eyes were obsessed with your image, not leaving your face once— not even to look at his hard cock that was so close to your cunt due the new position. He just nodded, wishing that was enough to show you his piece of mind. It wasn't. You slapped his cheek and howled. “I made you a question.”

Jensen gulped, the red on his cheek from your smack couldn't compare to his blushed body. This felt so good, finally getting what he wanted. Ultimately, he blurted out: “Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now let's put you to good use.” You winked at him, a hint of silly playfulness before you got all his length inside you at once. Both of you moaned, the unique sensation of your walls around his hard dick was marvelous. So warm, tight, and wet. Everything he deserved in one pussy, one woman. You started to move your hips up and down. “You feel so good inside me, baby. Like your cock was made for me— I think you were made just for this, to be fucked by me. What do you think?” His eyes fluttered shut, Jensen was allowing himself to get lost into you. You were heaven in sin, fucking him so nice. You weren't having his silent, though. You both had to be quiet about many things regarding to your mutual arrangement, you couldn't get more of closed mouths. Not when this was happening. You grabbed Jensen's jaw, fingertips pressing against his skin. “You better start answering me before I get out of here and go get some with a real man.”

Jensen groaned, holding your hips possessively. You knew he was one of the jealous kind, talking about other men touching you always got a reaction out of him. “I'm a real man.” 

“Show me then, baby.” A glimpse of sweetness appeared as you leaned in to kiss his lips. It didn't last much before your lips went to his neck, words coming through an open-mouthed there. “You know, they all are so caught up in your act, Jensen. The perfect texan boy, the amazing husband, the unproblematic idol…” You chortled, sending goosebumps through his whole soul. His dick was deep into you as you were riding his restlessly. “I bet you get tired of this. I bet you just want to fuck me in front of everyone sometimes, just to show them how dirty you can be.” He nodded, a soft whine leaving his lips. He was so tired of being the good guy. Only you knew him. “Like right now. You spent the whole day messing up with me, teasing me, just so you could get punished. And here we are, fucking in your trailer, while everyone is getting ready to go home.” He tried to move his hips as well, to get more of you. When you didn't stop him, Ackles winced and bucked his hips, hitting your G-spot, going deep and raw inside your tight cunt. One of his hands went to your pussy, digits pressing to your clit. Your next words came during groans of pleasure. “You should go too, baby. But you can't help it, huh? You just want go fuck me, even though I don't even care enough to send you a message to make sure you got home safe. You like it. You love that I'm not crazy about you, that I don't care.” His heart ached, but his cock only grew harder. Jensen could feel he was on the edgy. “So, you stay here instead of going home to your sweet wife. You stay here instead of hanging out with your best friend. You stay here instead of looking through your social media just to get an ego boost. Is this what a good man would do, Jensen? No... But that's okay. Men like you just need to be put in their places, and you love it.”

“Y/N!” He screamed helplessly, pulling your body closer to him when he came inside you, marking your pussy as his. A treacherous, lust stained thought was placed on his shoulders, whispering lovingly to his ear like you did your swearing: breed her, get her pregnant with your baby. Make her yours.

You had broken him, and he loved every second of it. He couldn't wait to give you the shattered pieces as a gift.

You came with an excruciating grunt right after him, all over his cock. The feeling of Jensen coming inside you always pushed you right way. You sighed happily, resting your head on his chest.

He enjoyed moments like this.

You remained there, waiting for his cock to relax inside you, get less hard before you pulled you. When it did, you pressed a quick kiss to his collarbone, walking to grab your clothes.

“Jensen,” You coughed after putting on your skirt. “I'll send you the new script tonight. Send me an email to confirm that you got it.”

What you truly wanted to say was, tell me if you got home safe. But you couldn't.

“Sure.” Jensen answered with a nod. Once again, he also wanted to say something else: thank you for giving me what I need, for seeing me. I love you. But he couldn't.

You picked up your wet panties, throwing it at him with a teasing smile before leaving the trailer.

It was enough.

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[scars-of-the-hart]

Tempest on the Shore: Shakarian angst on the Citadel

Her legs had finally stopped trembling. Shit. Shepard tried to hold onto the last tendrils of the woozy, tingling, mind-wiping high.  But it was like trying to hold water in cupped hands, it slipped away through the cracks no matter how tightly she tried to hold it, leaving emptiness behind. And the emptiness was loud. She let out a frustrated sigh and rolled over shifting to the edge of the bed, remembering exactly where she had dropped her pants and tank top. She hadn’t bothered with underwear for this in ages. 

“Um...excuse me?” Demanded the salarian in the bed pressing himself up onto his elbows.

Shepard gave him a puzzled frown.

The salarian (he had a name but she’d intentionally failed to commit it to memory) imperiously raised a scaled brow at her. “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“That noise you made.”

“What noise?”

“You sighed.”

“Oh...um did I?”

The salarian scowled at her. “Yes, you did. Look honey, I don’t know what your problem is but two hours with me will not result in the most quad-rung overstimulated krogan feeling dissatisfied so you better get that little viscous crack looked at.” He narrowed his eyes at her, and cast a disgusted look between her legs. “Because it is the problem. Not. Me.”

Shepard just stared at him. She was tempted to pay him double because she was close to laughing, which was more of a service than anything he’d done in this bed. But the spark went out as quickly as it had come. 

She shook her head as she tucked a hand between her legs. Not too wet. Manageable for the walk back to the Normandy. That was the handy thing about salarians. The females created enough moisture of their own that the blokes were pretty dry in the bed. As she pulled her pants on she gave the salarain a hard look. “I appreciate that you take so much pride in your work, but you're worrying your giant head over nothing. You were great. Thanks.” He still looked pissed as hell. She vaguely tried to care, but just couldn’t.  “Keep to working with people's bodies, you’ve got no natural ability with their heads.”  She pulled her tank on, bound her tangled mane of red hair in a messy bun on top of her head, crossed to the door and waved her omnitool across the payment console. It registered her transfer of credits and the door clicked as it unlocked and hissed open. She gave the salarian a mocking salute as she left.

“See you in two weeks, freak.” He called after her, his voice full of venom.

She tried to ignore it. She wouldn't be back, she lied to herself as she made her way along the wards. The streets were wet from the rain that had been falling before she started her session with the salarian. The layer of moisture almost made this part of the Citadel beautiful. There was something about the extended blur of the neon lights that made them romantic, instead of just... seedy.  

 A human who passed her made the mistake of eyeing the motion of her breasts under her tank and she gave him a look that told him exactly what kind of retribution that attention merited. He turned instantly pale and hastily turned down a different street. She should care-about the way he had looked, or his reaction or...or anything.  She pushed away that thought as she tried to push away every other, shifting her focus to the way walking made her recently stimulated vagina feel. She shifted her stride, trying to stir any lingering feelings of pleasure, to tease out a last rush of dopamine, but it wasn’t working. Between the bitchy salarian, and the oggloing tool...or maybe it was just her. Just the empty, broken, piece of shit she was.   She glanced at the time on her omnitool. She had half an hour before the end of their shore leave. Fuck. She could be fast but that wasn’t going to give her enough time for a session with anything if she wanted to avoid judgmental looks from Miranda and the Cerberus goons for coming back late when she was the one who had threatened to depart without any stragglers. 

You know what, fuck it. I didn’t ask to come back from the dead. 

She pulled up the booking page that had become the top listing for her “frequently used” extranet sites, and started typing in her preferences. Doesn’t matter if I pay for a full session and only use a few minutes. What am I gonna do with credits when the Reapers get here? Try to pay them off?  She filled out the request sheet as she walked: either gender, cunnelingus.  There literally wasn’t time to fuck around with penetration. Species. The form asked. Shepard grunted impatiently, didn’t really matter, she just needed something waiting for her when she got to the back rooms of Chora’s Den.  She selected turian by accident, and then physically collided with one. 

Shepard rubbed her forehead where it had collided with the offending turian’s armor as pain lanced through her head. Ok, any lingering effects of the salarian generated dopamine were definitely gone now. She glowered up at the mandabled idiot she had run into, preparing a curt, ufelt apology, and fell silent as she caught sight of the glow of a blue visor. 

SHIT

“Commander…” Garrus’ browplates furrowed as he stared at her in surprise. Shepherd’s mind went completely blank as she just stared at him. His crystalline eyes widened in concern and more than a little shock. A steadying hand went to her arm and his rough tipped fingers round her brow, testing gently.  “Are you...I’m sorry I should have-”

Shepherd’s gut clenched and she quickly brushed away his hands. “Been watching where the fuck you were going. Yeah. Work on that.” His head cocked ever so slightly at her harsh tone, his eyes narrowing a fraction.  

“I’m sorry, Shepard.” His mandibles flared in irritation. “I was endeavoring to make it back to the Normandy as you-”

“-yeah, well if you're that careless while carrying out an order you're not gonna last two minutes against the Collectors.” She snapped.  His eyes narrowed further, every calculating thought clear in those eyes. Fucker. Shepard though. Her stomach clenched. She didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have the energy or the...anything, for this. “ I’ll have to put what’s left of your cold ass carapace in a box.”

And then she saw his chin set: slightly raised, head tilted ever so slightly to the right. His pissed off defensive posture. She was too tired and empty and furious and stressed and scared and- 

Shepard turned on her heel and started stomping towards the nearest tram station that would lead her to the Citadel docks.

“Yeah,” Garrus called after her, “if you can still afford a box and you haven’t spent every last Cerberus credit at Chora’s.”

Ice shot down her spine. She stopped, turned slowly and stared at the turian.  “Excuse me, Vakarian?”

His chin was still set. “I’m sorry, is there something inaccurate in my assessment?” He drawled.

She hadn’t ever been followed...not that she cared if she had, you just didn’t survive the shit she did and remain capable of not checking for tails and hostels and whatever.  She didn’t care. She shouldn’t care. Why would she care if he knew? Especially if it was Garrus. Garrus who had gotten his whole crew killed. Garrus who’s medical chart after taking a rocket to the face had shown just what crap the turian had been pouring into his body (well...Moria wasn’t going to point fingers there..unless certain taloned fingers were already pointing at her), but that wasn’t the point why should she care? Except he shouldn’t know.

She gritted her teeth. “I would say there is as I have no idea what you are talking about.”

His eyes were cold as they narrowed. He casually lifted the hand that had, only minutes ago, brushed tenderly against her forehead, and sniffed it. His nostrils flared. “Salarian. Human sweat, yours, by the way, we’ve spared enough for me to recognize it. “

“Oh, fuck you, Vakarian.” She spat. “I probably smell like you, dipshit, after running into you. Who the fuck do you think you are throwing accuzations at your commanding officer?”

“You do smell like me.” Garrus snarled, “but it's different, and there's also a little krogan, asari and batarian-” she opened her mouth to snarl at him but he spoke over her “-not that those are from today, or you, not quite in the same way as the salarian. My guess is those scents are left over from whoever else was in the room before you.”

Rage washed through ther. “If you want to get back on my ship you’ll shut that pincushion of a mouth right now.”

Garrus’ nostrils flared, and she didn't think it had anything to do with him smelling her this time. “You asked me to come aboard!”

“Yeah,” Shepard snarled, “and I remember someone saying that he couldn’t exactly doubt my judgement.”

“That was before you were fucking everything and anything on the wards.”

It was like the world bottomed out around her. Nothing existed but his eyes and those words. She saw fear flash through them for a second, before being replaced by that same rage as before. 

“And what the hell makes you think what I fuck is any of your goddamn business?”

There was some hurt in the rage. “Because I’m your friend Shepard.”

“Yeah. Friend. And crew. Neither of which has anything to do with the personal choices I make.”

“Look,” he said, “taking on the Collectors, everything with the Council, coming back from the dead I get that its a lot to deal with-”

Heat rushed through her cheeks. “And I'm dealing with it so back the hell off.” 

“You’re being reckless there’s-”

Why was this happening? Why was she having this conversation? Why did it matter- she shoved the thoughts a way and glared at him. “Don’t talk to me about “being reckless” Archangel.”

It was a direct hit. Garrus blinked, a different type of pain in his expression. Shepherd’s gut twisted. It was a low blow. A fucking dirty low blow. 

He looked away from her, staring out at the skycars soaring past the walkway, then gave her a long look out of the corner of his eye.  “You are reckless in the field. You are tense on the ship. Its behavior I recognize. I was there recently, as you have so kindly reminded me.”

She wanted to say something. But she didn’t. She just held his gaze.

He slowly closed the difference between them, staring down at her. She refused to give ground: she didn’t move her chin an inch, and continued to glare up at him. He tilted his head so that he could meet her gaze and said slowly. “I don’t care who you fuck.” They were inches apart. “I care why you make bad calls when you know there are better ones.” She couldn’t breathe. His long slow breaths tickled her nose. “You asked for my help.” The challenge in his eyes made her blood sing. “So I’m going to call you on your bullshit, Shepard.” 

He’d been the one to support her after Eden Prime. Someone who had seen through Saren’s lies on his own. The one she wanted on her side on every mission. The only one who hadn’t questioned her using Cerberus…An feelings the salarian had left in her body were gone, the vague numb bliss replaced with the electric currents those eyes sent racing through her. She was rooted to the spot and ready to rush him all at once. She wanted her hands on him, to tear, to push against that immovable impossible weight and solidness of him. That was what she wanted. She wanted something real, something strong, something constant, something she could unleash herself against without fear. Her lips parted as a breath escaped them, crashing against his like a wave. 

But something broke the spell between them and Garrus pulled back. “No one on that ship is in their right mind.” He said quietly. “I have a feeling we’re all going to have to grapple with spirits that haunt us if we want a shot at taking the fight to the Collectors and coming back in one piece.”  He gave her a last long slow look. “But I think you need to figure out what the hell you're actually fighting for.” And with that he turned away, walking towards the docs without so much of a backwards glance. His crest cast a long shadow on the ground in the slowly dimming lights of the Citadel promenade, and Shepard felt herself fall into darkness as it slipped away.

[appples]

Oh, Cats (4/10)

pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)

genre/warning: 18+

words: 1535

summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.

Walking past the UA gates, you felt invincible. Since your confrontation with Aizawa, you launched into training in the evenings; self-confidence inflating rapidly. This was the first time you had left UA without hiding any of your features. Although you didn’t often go, if at all. Feeling like you don’t need to hide was still a very new sensation. People always looked as you walked by, but fewer than you remember pointed. It’s not often cat feature quirks manifest in this particular way. The heavier cat-like influence was more common, resulting in realistic heads of paws.

Out of all the things you could have missed the most, it was merely sounds of everyday life. People were so happy and oblivious to what heroes had to do to protect them. Without a plan, you wander the streets. Meandering in back alleys, meeting some local cats. Hours passed before you knew it and started to look at going home. Abruptly a bad feeling washed over you as you stood still. Unaware until now, there had been a coordinated effort to try and funnel you to a specific location where you currently were. How could I be so naïve to think this wouldn’t happen? People don’t change. Looking around and surveying the area gave you a brief advantage. You saw something racing towards you on the ground and jumped to the side. As you jumped, you saw it was a tentacle; aware, there must be a second coming soon. It wrapped itself around your ankle and pulled you backward, you tried slashing at it, but it made no difference. Knocked down, you try to break free. Another man emerged from the shadows holding his hands forward in front of himself. Nets eject from his fingertips, ensnaring you further. Finally, the third accomplice appeared, pleased with the finished task.

“Bind her hands, watch she doesn’t scratch you” the three men laughed above you. The tentacle began to move its way up to your legs, searching for something.

“No, stop! Please stop!” you were trying to kick at the tentacle with your free leg, but it only continued to rise. Inching closer and closer to your underwear, snatching at them in attempts to pull them down. There was a swift thick, wet sound. You looked down at the tipoffs, the tentacle still hanging on to your panties, now detached from the arm it belonged to.

“Ahh, what the fuck, man?! That was my fucking arm!” The tentacle man was screaming over his loss.

“It’ll grow back.” Aizawa emerged from the shadows. Unfazed, he practically danced in front of you. Releasing his capture weapon, he sent it around the man's throat with the net finger quirk, then another around the third man. Aizawa crossed his arms over, sending the two men crashing into each other. Having wounded the last man already, Aizawa bound him with the capture weapon. You were still on the ground when he walked up to you, standing up, avoiding his gaze.

“T-thank you.” You squeaked. “I was in a little over my head.”

“What the fuck happened” he snapped at you. Until this point, you had never actually seen Aizawa angry. You thought you did but had now been shown how incorrect you were.

“I just wanted some time away from UA, a -and they followed me” your words shook as a response to the ordeal you had just been through.

“If you can’t protect yourself, maybe you shouldn’t be leaving campus. What if a student saw you and decided today they were going to be the hero? What if they were hurt or killed?” Staring at the ground, you bit your tongue in an attempt not to cry.

“Did you even think of that?” He had moved closer. His shouts grew louder and more accusatory in tone. “Did you?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t give a fuck, how sorry you are.” He paused and collected his thoughts, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stepping back from you as he realized how close he had gotten. “If you can’t take care of yourself off-campus, then maybe you shouldn’t be teaching,” his words stung like the tears in your eyes. You knew he was right, as much as you hated to admit it. You were too weak to keep yourself safe, so why should you have any agency over students. You’re supposed to be protecting them, not the other way around.

“Just go back to campus. I will take these guys in and leave you out of the incident report. Neither you nor the school needs the extra attention right now.” You nodded your head and turned to leave, digging your claws into your fists as you stiffly held them by your sides.

Aizawa watched you leave before returning his attention to the task at hand. He hadn’t realized how furious he was with you at first, and it caught him off guard. It wasn’t logical. But how could you be so careless, had your time at UA really taught you nothing? What if he hadn’t shown up or showed up too late? The thought made him sick to his stomach. There were reasons why he didn’t have close relations with most people in his life. Aizawa always tried to maintain enough distance between the two of you, but it didn’t seem to be making any difference. He still refused to admit to himself how much he cared about you, instead following the safe route and shutting you out.

To get ready for the workweek, you had come up with responses to just about any question someone could ask about the injury’s leftover. Most of the noticeable abrasions you were easily able to hide under clothing. Unfortunately, some around your neck and face were a little trickier. Your colleagues left you alone for the most part, merely asking how you were g. It gave the impression that these sorts of things operate on don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Once the initial discomfort went away, you were left with your classes with Aizawa. You would have just about traded for anything else right now. Neither of you went out of your way to speak to the other, interacting as minimally together as possible. Thankfully it did provide some reprieve. At the end of one of your shared afternoon blocks, you had to turn over some marking you had completed, making eye contact as you place them on his desk. He stared up at you. Tired would be an understatement; he looked exhausted. Eyes redder than usual, and his facial had was longer than you had ever seen him let it go. Ripping your hands away from the paper, your fingers yearned to reach out and touch him, but you turned towards the door and left before your heart could overrule your mind. Despite having walked away from Aizawa, you could see your last conversation with him on replay.

“What if a student saw you and decided today, they were going to be the hero. What if they were hurt or killed?”

“If you can’t take care of yourself off-campus, then maybe you shouldn’t be teaching.”

Could you have had made the wrong decision when taking this job? What were the students even gaining from you being there? Sitting back down at your desk, you start to seriously consider quitting your job. Brows furrowed deep in distress. After turning your computer on, you make quick work to find a resignation template. Writing it made you feel good, like you were in power, that this was your decision to make. Finishing it, you read it over. It kind of felt like you were running away. This wasn’t supposed to be about you. It was for the students. Your feelings for the final decision should take second priority.

Forging on, you sent the document to the printer, waiting for the finished product. Holding it in your hands made it feel much more real, heavier. Sighing, you lean on the nearest desk. Something rustled as you leaned up. Without realizing it, you had sat at Aizawa’s desk. It was full of papers with coffee ring stains and empty jelly drink containers—a reminder of his bad habit you had picked up. You hated cooking, and the supplement drinks weren’t the worst. Aizawa knew what these kids needed better than anyone. And he spoke the truth about your lack of self-reliance and ability being a hindrance to them. It started to feel like your head might burst. You had been thinking about this so hard over the last few days. Is it okay to continue believing that I add value to their education, something because of who I am and cannot be replaced with someone else? With another sigh, you look up at the ceiling, lights screaming at you. But what was really bothering you, what were you avoiding?

Of course, it was Shouta. You wish you could take back how you felt, gather it all together in your arms and pull it back in. Sometimes it bordered on hating how you felt. Giving someone that much power and influence over yourself only ever ended in anguish. Then what do you do? How do you continue to move forwards and push past these obstacles? What is it that I can’t stop myself from falling for? Could it be something I’m searching for and missing in myself?

Your eyes closed as you stood up from the desk. Opening them, you walked back over to your desk and began to open your bag.

“I think there should be…Aha!” you withdrew two jelly pouches. Assessing the flavors, you chose your preference and placing the other on Aizawa’s desk, separate from the empties. The poor guy really did need to talk better care of himself. At least you seem to hold that advantage. Feeling a little more optimistic, realizing that Aizawa was also human. He didn’t have everything covered all the time. You left work for the day reviewing and reanalyzing everything you had just thought about.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Could you please write “‘i didn’t want to tell my friend who my real date last night was so i just pointed at a random stranger (you) but now they’re storming over to interrogate you and you’re playing along??? okay’ au”. Jurdan?

Sorry for the late, hope you'll like it!

chapter - two | beautiful disaster

Full Masterlist

Beautiful Disaster Masterlist

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I've been in the club for a half hour now and I already wish I wasn't here.

Vivienne ditched me in favour of dancing two minutes after we arrived; funny how she is the one who insisted we need more 'sister time.'

"I'm bored," I complain when she gets off the dance floor. "I wish you'd let me leave—it's not like I'm having fun."

Taryn is beside her, looking a little too drunk herself. She clings to Vivienne like a timid child to her mother, eyes wide as saucers and an awestruck expression on her face—I don't know what she's pleased about. She stumbles towards the bar, ordering more drinks. Vivienne turns to me, expression purposeful and determined.

She says, "We barely see you! You're always out—even dad doesn't know where you are." Her words sound like a lament, though I'm almost sure she doesn't notice my absence often and if she does, it doesn't bothers her enough to enquire after me when we're both sober, apparently.

"I know where she is all the time," Taryn tells the two of them, a giggle escaping her lips. "I know your secret, Jude."

I stiffen, but manage to keep my face nonchalant and voice amused, unaffected. "You do now, do you?" It's almost to easy to lie now, to speak half truths, to be deceitful and clever and guarded all the time. It should bother me but it doesn't. I'm too scared she knows I'm working for Dain, too scared Madoc could find out and gods know what he'll do when he does.

Taryn nods. "I saw you sneaking out of the house at nights!" Then, she giggles, "I know you have a secret lover."

I relax, tension released from my muscles when the words settle in. She thinks I have a secret lover, which isn't that far off but my real secret is safe. A blush creeps onto my cheeks as I think of Dain, my apparent secret lover and boss. I can never tell when we went from thinking of each other as best friends to lovers but he's one of the very few people I almost trust.

"You have to tell us who it is, Jude," Vivi says, clapping in excitement. She's ridiculous. "Oriana will be so happy!"

I stare in horror. I don't like where this is going. I can't tell them who I'm sneaking off with but I can't deny their suspicions lest they follow me out on my nightly escapades someday.

The two of them cheer loudly, drawing some attention and shouting 'Tell us!' in chorus when I see him.

"Cardan," his name escapes my lips in surprise, quieting the loud pair. Then I realise what it sounded like, and I rush to correct them but it's too late. Neither of them wants to hear much now.

"Ohmygod, Cardan Greenbriar?!"

"I suppose they have the whole enemies to lovers thing going from them," Vivi tells my twin sister.

"He's so cute."

"I don't even—" Jude is cut off by Vivienne's answering squeal.

"Think of all the double dates—" everyone is looking over at us, "and Madoc will be furious, that's a plus."

Taryn hums her agreement. "That's why Jude can't tell Madoc, isn't it? But Jude, we'd never tell him—" and her words are cut off with a sharp gasp when their eyes land on the entrance, and they notice him leaning against the wall.

His eyes are fixed elsewhere, but then they sweep around the whole room and land on me. Faintly, I can hear my sister's teasing comments but it sounds so far away, and he seems like he is too close for comfort. I wonder how he can do that—make me feel like the world is collapsing around me with all but one look; how he can intimidate me without ever coming close.

"Aw, they're making fuck me eyes at each other," one of my sisters coo.

Entirely too fast, he's gone from my sight and I come back to reality. I drown out all comments about him, giving vague, evasive answers to each question. It feels like he's still looking at me with that impenetrable gaze, though he's nowhere to be seen.

I fetch us some drinks, and soon find other topics to converse about. I'm hoping they've forgotten our conversation, when I stumble upon a sight that makes my heart stop dead inside my chest. He's standing there with a drink in his hand, and from the opposite side of the dance floor, my sisters make their way towards him.

I run towards him, pushing through the crowd. I stumble, almost falling into him and he rolls his eyes. "Falling again, Jude? This is the second—"

I hold up a hand. "Shh, you have to leave—my sisters think we're—" but before I can make my request of Cardan Greenbriar, my sisters have arrive. I can't let them know I lied—they'd wonder what I'm hiding from them and it won't end well. I have too many secrets to protect.

"Cardan Greenbriar," Taryn breathes out. She sounds a little starstruck.

Cardan narrows his eyes at the newcomers, an amused expression on his face. In front of his graceful manner and controlled movements, everyone else looks like a fish flailing in the air. He doesn't have that cruel gleam on his face, but I stay on my guard. Whatever my grievances with my sisters, I can't help being protective of them.

He says, "You didn't tell me you had such a pretty sister, Jude."

Taryn flushes at the compliment, and I wonder what he's playing at—or if, perhaps, this is another attempt to rile me. "We're twins," I mutter under my breath, though it comes out louder than intended and he hears me.

"Of course you'd find Taryn pretty—she looks like Jude, after all." Vivienne smirks, "You don't need to pretend. Jude told us everything."

"She did?" He can't hide the confusion from his face, but it's gone in a minute.

"Yes! I'm glad you're dating Jude. Just know if you hurt her, well, she'll hurt you back worse so..." she trails off with a sweet smile. I didn't know when my eldest sister got so scary, but she looks positively terrifying now.

"Dating? Jude?" Cardan quirks an eyebrow at me. "Yes, I'm, uh, doing that. Am I not, sweet Jude? I'd never hurt her, not unless she asks me to," he grins at his innuendo, sending my sisters cackling too. I can't bring myself to share their amusement, too busy wondering what he's playing at.

"Aw, he's blushing!" Taryn coos at him, words near slurred. "When did this happen? Why didn't we know? Ooh, Jude, how long have you been fucking? Wait, have you even had sex—" Vivienne interrupts my twin's barrage of questions with an apologetic smile and a quick 'you both should make a date night out of this' leaving me alone with my worst nemesis.

The moment my sisters are out of sight, he cocks his head to the side. "Jude. Am I supposed to know what that was about or will you explain?" There's no sneer in his voice, just curiosity with a touch of amusement.

"A misunderstanding," I clear my throat. "They wanted to know, uhh, who I'm dating, and I looked here and they assumed it was you."

His lips twitch upwards, as if he's entertained by my reply. I bristle at the mocking look, but I know my anger will only provide him satisfaction. His lips are curled in a small smirk, and he has never looked more beautiful. There's an air of confidence around him, a careless, unassuming grace in his movements that makes him look so intimidating and yet, so appealing all the same. The top two buttons on his black shirt have been left open, and reveal more of the serpent tattoo around his collarbone. I have the strangest itch to trace it with my fingers but I dismiss it as curiosity.

He turns on his heel without another word, then looks back. He frowns, "Are you not following me?"

"Should I be?" I don't recall him asking me to go somewhere with him.

Cardan makes an 'isn't that obvious' face, and I give him an impatient look in return. He tells me, "I was about to get another drink, but apparently, we have to get drinks, have a date and whatnot now. I do loathe the idea of making someone unhappy."

"And if this makes me unhappy?" I ask, even as I walk beside him to the bar.

Almost absentmindedly, as if I'm daft and it's the simplest answer in the world, he gives me a blank look. "You're Jude. No one can make you unhappy." He orders drinks for the two of us, and it occurs to me that I'm talking to him, and it's not a part of my plan.

But maybe this coincidence might help me earn his trust. He's never so affable as he is when he's drunk.

We talk, if you could call it that. Mostly, it's just us remaining in a silence that feels too loud, each of us too aware of the other's presence and Cardan's occassional remarks laced with dry humor. And if upon hearing one of those sharp remarks, I let a loud laugh escape my mouth, or if I look rather flushed, I blame it on the alcohol I consume. It isn't until Vivienne informs me Madoc is home and he's asking for me that I remember all the ways this mission can go wrong if I'm not careful about it.

We're in the cab, and I'm almost dazed as I recall every remark Cardan made. "He's quite the catch," Vivienne must have seen the confusion on my face because she adds: "Cardan, I mean. I quite like him."

I make a face at her. "He's a disaster."

"A beautiful disaster," she corrects me with a suggestive look. I don't bother arguing with her this time.

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tags:

@courtofjurdan // @thesirenwashere // @nightbringer // @queenofgreenbriar // @jurdanhell // @sweetlyvillainous //@clockworkgraystairs // @blog-lady-vi // @the-dark-swan //@storiesandschemes // @fangirltrash74 // @augustintodarkness // @queen-of-glass // @jurdan7 // @aesthetics-11 // @mijaldraws // @hades-flame // @sensitivehighlord // @annejulianneh111 // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @doingmyrainbow // @curlyredqueen06 // @chaotic-fae-queen // @thewickedkings // @thesurielships //@df3ndyr // @clouds-and-peonies // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @thefolkofthefic // @st00pid231 // @iminsanenotobsessed // @abookishfreak // @maddymelv // @iammissstark

[amwritingmeta]

I am just thinking about how it was such an asshole move to have Lucifer call as Cas and see Dean rush to the door and then not bring Cas back to life. That was something I forgot about until right now when I saw a gif of that scene

Hey, love!

Yeah, listen, I hear you, but I also reblogged a gifset the other day that so perfectly outlaid how Lucifer’s ruse is actually an underlining for what Cas means to Dean, because every other time Luci has used the “let me in” line it’s been in conjunction with showing up as the romantic counterpart of the person he’s trying to manipulate. Not that person’s best friend: their girlfriend or wife. Aka their the love of my life person.

Dean loves Cas back and this fact is shining so brightly in the subtext. It makes me all shades of thrilled and excited and joyous to even think about it!!

Is the omission of Cas from the narrative for the rest of that episode a little bit weird? Yes, it is. It would’ve been so easy for Dean to have one line to Jack our New God asking “What about Cas?” and Jack telling him “He’s at peace.” It’s very strange given how the episode started, with Dean demanding of Chuck to bring Cas back. It seems the perfect bookend moment for Dean to not demand of Jack, but simply ask. 

However, no matter how at peace Cas is, Jack knows not to leave him in the Empty, because Cas doesn’t belong there, so having Dean ask about Cas and for Jack to dismiss the question (and Dean’s inherit longing to have Cas back that always accompanies Dean’s focus on Cas) with some airy statement, only for Jack to go get Cas the hell out of the Empty, but without sending Cas straight back to Dean, would’ve seemed even more OOC for Jack when we get the reveal that, actually, Cas is alive and with Jack and their off on a father/son remodelling of Heaven adventure tralala. Selfish, Jack. Right? :P

That scenario would’ve required proper refrigerator logic, yeah? Like... what was Jack’s actual motivation for keeping those two apart then? Since the subtext is telling us so strongly that they belong together! Wouldn’t Jack know? And after everything Dean’s been through, wouldn’t the best reward be to have Cas back in his life? What sort of God does that make Jack exactly?

:P

What we get is Dean being shown to mourn Cas in 15x19 and omg do we have Dean wanting Cas back - there’s zero rejection due to the declaration of love, there’s as ever that focus on saving Cas, getting Cas back, nothing’s changed - and Dean all with the hope that Cas will show up, indicated by how he reacts to that call, and based in how Cas has always come back to him, only when it turns out that the caller is actually effing Lucifer, Dean’s immediate hope dwindles, and then, Dean’s facing Jack our New God and... well, why doesn’t Dean ask?

I think it was the only way to not have Cas back immediately, because Dean asking would’ve meant that Jack either would’ve had to give Dean actual hope that their separation wasn’t permanent, giving a less airy response than “He’s at peace” (because Jack knew that he was going to bust his dad the fuck out of eternal sleep in nothingness), or Jack would’ve had to grant Dean the reward of having Cas returned to him.

And neither option really worked with where Dean needed to be in his arc.

Well, to my mind, anyway.

Which was in acceptance of Cas’ absence. Acceptance and letting go and all the adulting that comes with moving into self-worth and a real sense of identity and letting go of the past to make way for the future, which was done very much in preparation for the letting go of Sam.

Letting go of the past and making way for the future was most clearly expressed in how Dean states that the pain of losing Cas and Jack will never go away, but not living would mean their sacrifices were meaningless, and so on with living he goes.

And the reward for this, for having integrated, for his self-actualisation, for being ready and open for whatever happiness comes his way, isn’t his sudden death - because that moment is given to him by the narrative as the final piece of the puzzle on his journey towards shaking off all that eternal sense of responsibility, and knowing peace - instead, the reward is finding Heaven remodelled by the love of his life, who has learned as many lessons on their joint journey as Dean has, and has been hard at work to make the afterlife what Dean truly deserves.

It’s a gift, Dean. 

Making the moment of reunion linked to this, rather than Dean asking for Cas back from Jack, makes more sense, because Dean needed to properly let go of his need of Cas, and make way for his want of Cas, for his love, that doesn’t need Cas’ presence to validate it, but that just is, because it’s not in the having, it’s in just being, and I would say Jack is the type of God that knows that, and that knows that the reunion shouldn’t take place on Earth, but in Heaven. Especially in the Heaven that he’s about to create together with Cas.

And yes, it’s a bit sad that we weren’t given the brothers having a somewhat longer conversation about Cas, about him professing his love etc. but it goes with the tone of the finale, and I know we can look at it as though the love story was scrubbed clean of the narrative and yes, it does suck that it was consigned back to the subtext, but it’s still very much as present as it always has been. 

Especially thanks to what’s come before: 15x18 being completely structured around couples in love losing one half and then this gentle callback to Lucifer’s pattern of behaviour when manipulating people by posing as the love of their life to gain their confidence. 

There are little holes, I know there are, within the surface of the text of 15x19 and 15x20, but the logical way of filling them in is, to me, right there. Right in the narrative itself. You don’t have to go far to find them. Does that mend the holes of the textual impression of these final two episodes? No, not entirely.

I still wish Charlie and Stevie had been brought back as a statement, because I do understand the feeling that every queer character just up and died and it’s ridiculously careless, to my mind, to leave it to the subtext to ensure us they were of course brought back with everyone else by Jack.

And I’ll never understand why we didn’t get it stated that Eileen is Sam’s blurry wife. I mean... that wouldn’t have taken any effort whatsoever and would’ve meant a whole lot, so idk. Did it just not mean a whole lot to the writers? Just seems so weird. 

Look it, we have Dean mourning Cas (via drinking and coping mechanisms), and wanting Cas back to the point of being ready to just up and die himself AGAIN (and being FURIOUS still, even though he admitted his anger got him and Cas into that room to begin with) but even if Dean kills Sam or Sam kills Dean or they kill each other, well, God had better fucking bring Cas back!! Which is like okay, calm down, Dean, this is exactly where you shouldn’t be in order to get Cas back, so, yeah, no wonder Chuck didn’t even respond to that demand.

Was it cruel and unusual to have Lucifer call Dean on the phone like that?

Yeah, it was, but it was also, in a way, if you want to look at the narrative we have and it is, end of the day, the narrative we have, a wake up call for Dean. After that he moves into teamwork mode with Sam and Jack and together they hatch the plan, the con, to defeat Chuck, and they succeed.

To me there’s threading there that emotionally resonates and makes a whole lot of sense for Dean’s arc. This final leg. The letting go of it all. The acceptance. 

And so that’s what we get in 15x20. No more coping mechanisms. Just living life to the best of his ability, honouring Cas’ sacrifice, recognising he’s going to have to live with the pain of the loss, but he’s willing to do that, because he no longer feels he doesn’t matter, or that what he does doesn’t matter, because it mattered to Cas, and that has just finally brought his sense of worth into actual stark relay and he trusts it now. He trusts there’s more to him than being the weapon. 

Cas took away Dean’s reason for his self-hatred and held up a mirror and said See yourself the way I see you. And so Dean does.

It’s beautiful. (literally) :)

Anyway, I just ramble on, but I hope that it explains why I see the good in the heartbreak, and how that heartbreak has left us with an ending that is wide open to a happily ever after that is setup by 15x18 and underlined by 15x20, and by that slow half-smile from Dean at hearing Cas is in Heaven too. That Cas is out of the Empty and free. That he’s the architect of Dean’s happiness. Because of course he is. 

Of course he is.

:)

xx

[zuffer-weird-girl]

What if Kai meet his angel in school hitting one of the people who beat him up and then follows him home asking him questions and then saying by friend and months go by and they get closer and he ask pops about dating and they go on a cute date

Awwawaaww I absolutely LOVE writing for Kid Chisaki X3

Btw I'm sorry about the pops giving him advice on dating angel... maybe on a next scenario

The pain still remained on his cheek and he noticed the dirty eyes he was receiving, but he could care less. Those sick deserved all of the beating for speaking low about the yakusa.

"Yo, Kai." He heard Hari's voice from behind him and he merely grunted in response, still walking and reading his book "Is.. Is that (L/n)?" He followed Kurono's finger and saw the girl with a dark aura around her while walking.

To say he was a bit taken off from guard was a understatement. That one was know of being one of the most quiet and reserved persons on his class... but yet, she talked a bit with him, aand he could catch at least that she was pure, a quirkless little thing, and so gentle he was actually annoyed by how much she was nice even with people who didn't deserved it.

"Someone's angry apparently." Hari mumbled before Chisaki scoffed, returning his gaze to the book in his hands.

That was... until he heard screaming.

He shoted his head back up immediately and found that you had just punched one of the boys who spoked bad about the yakusa and fought with him.

"The hell is your problem weirdo?!" The boy shouted while covering his bloody nose.

"Next time-" you kicked him just in the stomach, making him fall flat with his back on the floor "Don't just say bad things about someone's family like that!"

Some other people went to hold you back while the boy got up and prepared to retreat back what he received.

"Useless bag of nothing!" He shouted with tears in his eyes but a angry look as well "You're going to pay for that!"

You cringed your teeth together before jumping and hitting both of your feet on him, struggling in the other's boys arms in a desperate way to get free.

You did not think this through...

One of them grabbed your hair harshly and made you look up at the bully, whose was glaring you down.

"Any meaning on why you hit me? If is about that yakusa thug then come on-" he rolled his eyes with a sigh "Just give me a break."

"You dont have any rights to speak about them so lowly like that Kei!" You almost cried at the way they put more pressure on your body on the ground as they lifted your head by the hair, but you still remained with the scowl "What? Sad about that your parents just divorced and went to speak shit about others?"

You got the opportunity at the shock of the people and got out of their grasp, getting up to leave another lunch as you twirled around in the air to hit a heavy kick on Kei's head with a shout.

"(L/N) (Y/n)! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?!" A teacher yelled while passing abrupt through Chisaki and Kurono.

"That... was quite a show. Right Chisaki?" Kurono asked nonchantly, turning to his friend quickly at noticing he didn't responded "Chisaki?"

The book in his hands was totally forgotten as his amber eyes looked at you. Covered in dirt and with a frow and pout on your face as the kid yelled and scolded with you.

...why?

~

You sighed as you crossed your arms over your little chest as you swan your legs on the big chair.... waiting for the principal to finish his talking with your grandma.

Luckily your grandma knew why you had dine that... at least you weren't so screwed.

"Oi." A monotonous voice manifested as you looked up with a confused sound before looking at your left... seing that dark brow hair and golden eyes boy aproaching you slowly... stoic yet firm gaze as his hands were on his pockets while walking.

You tilted your head in confusion before he stopped right in front of you. Sighing, he took his hands out of his pockets to cross them over his chest as he arched one yebrow and glared dow at you.

"Spit it out. What do you want?"

"Eh?"

"Don't play dumb with me." He hissed angrily before his glare intensified "You beat that guy because of what he sayed about the yakusa, am I wrong?" You shooked head confusely before flinching at his intense gaze and how he threateningly got closer.

"Then you must want something to just had done that. Spill it out." He growled while you blinked your wide eyes, before doing something that angered yet confused Chisaki to no ends.

You laughed. First some supressed giggles but soon errupted on a slaughter that left his face and chest surrounded by a unknown heat.

"What the hell is so funny in the first place?" He hissed while you muffled your laughter with a hand in your mouth.

"G-Geez!" You breathed in "Why should I want something?"

"Is how it works stupid." He growled "Exchange of favors."

"... exchange of what?" You almost squealed while he deadpanned.

"You can't be that dumb."

"Am not! Just because I dont know the meaning of a word yet it doesn't mean I am dumb." You smiled with a eyebrow lifted up, not understanding why this boy's cheeks were so pink.

"Answer my damn question."

"But you didn't asked me any-"

"What the hell do you want?" He almost shouted this time in irritation "Nothing is for free in this world, so stop this already and tell already what you want for defending the yakusa."

You widen your eyes a bit in surprise before extending your arms in a uncaring shrug with a smile.

"Nothing. I want nothing from you, Chisaki-kun."

"What?" He asked in almost disbelief while you giggled and arched a bit your back to look up at him, still on his feet while you were in the chair.

"The yakusa is like a family to you right? You like them as one." You looked a bit down with s frow "Others shouldn't comment on other kids life only because they are from a mafia or different than the 'normal'".

You giggled a bit before looking up at him again.

"I just feel like it. Besides, the yakusa isn't that bad after all right? The owner does raise you and one more kid along after all."

He was... shocked, to say at least. You went there, got dirty and hurt while fighting someone who had no bussines with you, probably going to have some problems with the school and your own family from now on...

And yet... you defended him. And didn't want it.. nothing in return.

Your grandmother's voice broke you two conversations, right when she called you say it you were coming jumping out of your chair and quickly getting to her side.

But before that you turned a but to catch him still looking at you with dumbfounded golden orbs instead of stoic and cold ones.

"Besides!" You chirped with the most sweet and warm smile he swore he never saw on his whole life while you grabbed your granny hand "I like you Chisaki! A lot!" And with those left words you left...

"...huh?" He almost squeaked that out, heart racing in one mile away as his whole body turned into pure heat.

He didn't even complained less noticed Kurono's touch on his shoulder or even attempts to call him out of his frozen state.

The hell you had done with him?

Time skip!

"Let me at him Chisaki Kai. Let me fucking at him." You growled your words, already preparing to throw fists with Rappa without a single hesitation.

"Absolutely not." He growled back, grabbing on your shoulder and yanking you back to him. "Control youserlf idiot."

"Yeah, syas the man who overhauled so many people which I lost count only because they looked wrong or even insulted me for being quirkless." You pouted at him before yelping at receiving a flip on you forehead.

"Is different."

"No is not!" You protested while he only arched a eyebrow.

"Am I quirkless?" You went to answer but he interrupted you again "Do I act before thinking? Do I went to the principal when we were kids because-"

"Oh god okay I get it." You whined before crossing your arms.

He huffed before lowering his mask down a bit, revealing his devilish smirk before he tilted your head up to him with the hand he carried proudly the weeding ring on his finger.

"My fiance should be less careless you know?" He commented while you arched a eyebrow with a smirk.

"With my careless self that I made you fall for me devil. Sure you want to change that?"

"You? Making me fall? Don't make me laugh brat." He kissed your lips before trailing his lips to your earlobe and nibble on them a bit.

"I am the one making this angel fall. Each... night." He chuckled devilish at the shivering you presented and the furious blush that appeared in your face.

"Unfair attack Kai. Unfair."

"Since when the world is fair? I guess it was only..." he brought your hand and touched his lips slightly at the weeding ring in your hand, not even getting worried because after so many years you knew exactly how to clean something properly "When heavens sent me the purest and brightest angel from above."

[graphicabyss]

Avalanche and the Fallout

So, last time I commented on Tegoshi’s tell-all book and now it’s released and the damage is done. Such an appropriate name seeing as avalanches are sudden and destroy everything in their path. As I read the book and the related news, I struggled with both the need to convey how I felt and stop giving him so much time and attention. Sure enough, I ended up with a long review/analysis/bitching post. It's rough and mean and very long so please read at your own risk.

Facts first. The book released on Aug 5 was originally supposed to run 10,000 copies but they reportedly increased it to 50,000 due to high demand. Tegoshi also held a press-conference to talk about it on release day. It ended up being one of the best-selling books on Amazon and top seller in Entertainment.

It’s hard to talk about the book briefly. It’s 270 pages long and I had absolutely no intention to read it all but still ended up reading a good deal and words just kept pouring out of me. I could not imagine how much this book would fuck me up. I knew it would be bad but honestly I was shocked about the publication because it’s both incredibly cruel to so many people and incredibly stupid as it’s going to severely damage his reputation and future career.

I won’t even try to pretend to be objective because there’s nothing objective about the book itself. It’s a book of unsolicited opinions. If there’s one word I’d to describe it it’s ‘delusional’. Every chapter reeks of vanity and a sense of superiority as he judges every single celebrity he came in contact with and gives plenty of advice. It's a mess of careless words hastily and haphazardly thrown together in an attempt to let the world know the Real Tegoshi.

Of course, that's not how he sees it. He mentions the likes of Steve Jobs and Bill Gates saying their books give people motivation and inspiration and he wanted to do the same. Bitch, you haven't done anything to get you on that level yet.

There’s a video on his channel where he goes to the publisher to talk about the book and while he says about sending an inspirational message, the publisher only wants him to talk about Yukirin and other juicy gossip. And it’s not like poor Tegoshi was tricked into it, he readily agreed to it and he knew full well what he was doing. The book’s cover does not advertise life advice, it advertises celebrity gossip. Also nudes, which by the way, turned out to be mere topless shots. Add false advertising to the list of offenses. He really gave Bunsun a run for their money discussing half his scandals and even adding some extra. He keeps saying he only wants to clear up the rumours but somehow ends up saying things that make absolutely no difference or even make him look worse. It's like if Bunshun said "Tegoshi was partying with 5 younger women, ran around naked and then passed out drunk" and Tegoshi would be like "That's not true! There were 4 women!"

He also said he absolutely could not hide how he truly felt. And that seems to make sense except it’s one thing to just be honest and reveal some of your relevant thoughts in a carefully worded manner. But this is another thing entirely. It’s some kind of emotional exhibitionism, a compulsory desire to share his every thought and opinion on everything and everyone. Dear, there is middle ground between hiding how you really feel and giving your every single opinion. That doesn't make you honest. It makes you an asshole.

The book is divided into small chapters and most are about NEWS, past and present members and related topics, as well as most other JE artists. Some chapters are about the women he had or did not have relations with. Some are about the people he admires and his delusional plans for the future. Only a small number of chapters do not mention any names and talk about his personal experiences and thoughts.

At this point, I do not even have all the scans but I have more than enough to go off the parts I read. First off, I am now allergic to the word ‘positive’ and the phrase ‘as a man’. What the fuck does that even mean? Also, a lot of the stuff he says in the book is not new in any way and was either said before or known through other sources or rumours. There are hardly any shocking revelations anywhere, at least if you were following him as closely as I have. But hearing all these terrible opinions at once is sure a treat.

Actually, he himself described it as whining and that seems accurate because he does that for a good portion of the book, explaining how unfairly he (and other people) was treated by the industry and the press. There are many stories of hardship and resilience. There’s the good old "I suffered so much when I wasn’t the center of attention for the first time in my life”. There’s the classic “The media spreads lies about me” and other familiar narratives. Also a few tragic stories of unfulfilled love.

And not all of it is horrible. In fact, there are a few parts that I could relate to, such as the terrible way Koyama had been treated when he had to resign from ‘every’, the strange limitations for idols and how excessively strict the rules of Japanese showbiz are. But by telling those stories and complaining about JE and Japan’s entertainment industry, he is not going to make a change. All he accomplished is make things harder for himself. Bringing up the names of many artists, especially those he doesn’t even know personally, and discussing their problems is incredibly rude, intrusive and potentially damaging. Yes, the rules of Japanese entertainment suck but see how much you can achieve going against them.

And I don't like JE and not going to defend it but bitching about JE in particular is unwise for two reasons: One - not only does he owe everything to it, NEWS is still in it and what’s bad for JE is bad for NEWS. Two - JE is very powerful and has immense influence in the industry so making them your enemy when your career barely started may lead to it ending prematurely. In the end, Tegoshi Yuya’s biggest obstacle to fame isn’t JE or media. It’s Tegoshi Yuya.

It is not an autobiography book so it doesn't start with childhood. Which is a pity because I was hoping to get a glimpse of how we got to this point. There are a few clues though. 

I can tell.

Perhaps the most important chapters are those connected to his leaving the band, his reasons and motivations and that shit made me livid. He basically says that one day he imagined how awesome his solo career would be and decided he was too good to be in NEWS and the world will fall at his feet at soon as he lets it. He literally says that when he had to stay home because of the Covid-19 pandemic, he realized that God sent him a sign saying “Quickly, leave the agency!”. The pandemic is serendipity. Fuck me.

I honestly expected that the part about NEWS members at least would be nothing but praise but it also left me with very mixed feelings. First, there's a chapter "What I Told the NEWS Members" and it sounds so solemn and inspirational like "Are you sure you didn't copy that from some drama or anime? Because people do not talk like that, especially after being hit with such news." I'd love to hear their side of the story. There's also a chapter calling the members his comrades and expressing his eternal gratitude. But it's pretty clear that's not really for the members, it's to appease the fans.

There are several more chapters about the members specifically. Tegoshi has to be perfectly honest so there’s evaluation of every member, as he positions himself as the best performer by default and tells some stories that he apparently seems to think necessary to share.

For instance, there’s his story of choosing to stay in NEWS in 2011 as he told Koyashige they were miles behind Tegomass and needed to improve their singing and dancing to not drag the band down. Wait, since when can Tegoshi dance? Also the time Massu could not get a certain song right and got unresponsive as Tegoshi kept poking his mistake, so Tegoshi went berserk and thrashed Massu's things.

There is also a whole chapter about Shige and it's so weird as a former biggest Tegoshige shipper. Before I'd be happy for all the praise. Sadly, at this point if Tegoshi praises you too much it's almost a little suspicious. The whole thing is basically Tegoshi deciding that Shige is his top choice as... a man? deciding he makes the best leader and entrusting him the band. "Take care of my NEWS, Kato!" he says at the end. Fuck this shit!

Also, whatever happened to “Shige-chan?” He has made no effort to spend time with Shige out of work. And you know, they used to hang out and go on trips together when they were younger but not in recent years as Tegoshi got 'cooler' friends. I mean, his and Shige's friends probably have a 20+ difference in IQ level but still... He also only read a few of his books and unlike Massu, he does read. Mostly shitty 'how to succeed' types. All of that speaks of remarkable disinterest in Shige's actual life and thoughts.

There are several more chapters regarding NEWS as a band and what he thinks they should do and it makes me furious just talking about it. You lost any right to decide the band's future when you left them high and dry, asshole. He also claims he loves NEWS so so much and even wears the tour T-shirts (impressive!) and sings their songs in karaoke and cries! (poor thing!) On top of that he can't wait to see the STORY tour and go to see it and also broadcast it on his Youtube and do a review.......... I can't with this shit. Let's move on.

He also analyzed former members, basically calling Ryo spineless and saying he and Pi should have left sooner if they had no interest being in the band. And that’s coming from someone who tried to leave what? 4 times at least? Yes. It turns out he wanted to leave the band in 2017, in addition to 2011 and 2013. The way I see it now, 4nin NEWS was a hostage situation where Tegoshi constantly threatened to leave and other members trying to keep him happy and make him stay. He knew he was important and he got away with all kind of shit, both within the band and the agency.

In a similar manner, he takes each JE group and artist and evaluates them - what's good about it and what’s not, who’s popular and capable, what the group needs to do and so on. It’s amazingly condescending. There’s even a whole part about wanting to unite NEWS and KAT-TUN. What the fuck? Who asked you? Go film your ugly wardrobe or something.

I bet Tegoshi is so obsessed with popularity and rankings that he sees numbers over every person's and groups’ heads. Not everything in the world can be ranked and measured in numbers. He also says there are many celebrities who fucked up and acted like divas but are still popular. Way to go! Except it seems you have mistaken the order. You should succeed first, then be a dick. Also bitch, you're not Lady Gaga.

One of the biggest reasons for the anger of fans, at least the Western ones, was the way he talked about the mental issues of the former King & Prince member Iwahashi Genki and SEXY ZONE member Matsushima Sou both of whom had to step back from the industry because of their panic attacks. Even though he intended to encourage them, he expressed a fundamental misunderstanding of how panic attacks work suggesting they just had to cheer up and stay positive.

There's a whole section where he talks about a dozen female celebrities, mostly idols and actresses, dedicating a whole chapter to each. Of course, only to ‘set the record straight’. Because that’s exactly how the rumours work, you know. Particularly old ones. You tell the whole story and they go away. It's disgusting. Female artists' whole careers depend on their pure image and being associated with him can easily end it.

He also speaks of the first three girls he dated, which all sound like huge and tragic love stories as he said he loved them so much he considered marrying them but they all actually happened when he was about 16 to 20 years and after turning 20 he hasn't had a single woman that he loved that much.

And then some parts are only about himself and they are things that one should really, really keep to oneself. Nobody needs to know you drink so hard you can’t get it up. The chapter's called "I have no interest in sex" but it should really be called "I have a drinking problem". I couldn’t help but remember the scandalous article that came out in 2017 where one of his 'girl friends' sold the story of their relationship with all unsightly intimate details. I chose to defend him at the time but now I’m not even sure I can blame her. Perhaps it should be viewed as whistle-blower insider info as she warned others of what they may expect. The chapter "I have easily over a 1000 female friends" says he has this many girl contacts all over Japan and overseas but they aren't what you think they are. He only had 10 girls who he considered girlfriends, those he met 1 on 1 with. I guess the rest he just fucked so that doesn't count. Now that I think about it, I feel like 99% of all the Bunshun articles were mostly accurate.

Speaking of which... There's also a chapter where he explains why he cried during Neverland tour and he explains it by the photo with the two cons from 2011. We all know that was just a small part of it and the far bigger reason was people exposing his private messages and leaking intimate photos and stories. So much for the whole truth. Also, he whines about his reputation being hurt by the photo but has a whole chapter praising the man called Horiemon who was imprisoned for securities fraud.

There's another major revelation that shows his character. He mentions several cases where he had hissy fits in the dressing rooms, actually throwing chairs and things. Of course, for important reasons - being frustrated and angry at terrible injustices. Such as Koyama being fired from ‘every’ or him losing some parts in ChumChum after his scandal. Also the fight with Massu back in 2010 when he threw Massu’s things on the floor... It’s horrible as it is but for Massu, knowing he freaks out if you so much as breathe on his things... What a bitch.

There are also some chapters about his delusions of becoming a worldwide phenomenon but he doesn't seem to have a real plan how to achieve it. There are his ideas that are all over the place. There's the bold "Creating a new mold of entertainment" so that's producing. There's Youtube stuff. There's creating a "Tegoshi village" with ex-TOKIO Yamaguchi. He just had to pick the most problematic of his senpai. And there's an actual chapter called "Expanding to China and US Simultaneously”? Also English lessons? That all sounds very impressive, hon, but all you did so far was piggybacking on other people's fame and work. His book sold largely due to scandals and other people's names. He had a solo concert with just his NEWS solos and cover versions. And he just released a video that is an exact replica of his ItteQ segment.

One question is: how is he so confident he'll succeed fast? Well, apart form the usual delusions of grandeur. One reason for his excessive confidence is having friends in high places. At one point he's casually namedropping Abe Shinzo and the First Lady who was supposedly expected to come to the Story tour. Tegoshi said he would invite both of them to his solo concert. Yeah, I'm sure they'll come, nothing controversial about that.

I can’t imagine how it’s going to go from here but I don’t know how anyone would still want to work with him. He fucked over people he worked with for 18 years, people he claims to love, in a heartbeat so what can a new partner expect?

--------------------------------------------------

As expected by literally everyone but Tegoshi, the book made an uproar and not in a good way, with fans and agencies enraged over his words about the artists. There were many articles calling this book 'exposé book', especially focusing on him using the real names of female celebrities. Some newspapers followed up with petty articles. My favourite is an article from Tokyo Sports that specifically dug up a story that was not in the book about the way he adamantly pursued a certain female idol trying to conquer her and culminating in doing a dogeza in front of her but she still rejected him saying "Zettai yada! I will be your girlfriend number what?". Her name is not revealed, which is unfortunate, I'd like to know who that queen is.

Not all feedback was bad, of course. According to this article, many men brought it and enjoyed it. I'm sure they did. Plenty of aspirational douchebags out there. Anyway. Many fans wrote to him long angry and very detailed letters. His social media accounts have been losing followers for the past several weeks.

Perhaps the strangest thing is that he seemed genuinely surprised that instead of praise for his courage and honesty he got anger and disapproval. It wouldn't happen if he got his head out of his ass and literally asked a single one of the people he wrote about what they thought of it. 

The feedback must have been very focused as the very next day he wrote a few posts on his Twitter and Instagram indicating his concern over the feedback. On Twitter, he used the word “yacchimatta ka” as in “I messed up, didn’t I?” though stylistically I read it as “whoopsie”. Then there were two Insta stories.

2020/08/06 Ah, I'm a little tired. I'm also human. (sometimes I whine)

2020/08/06 I don't bother with those who criticize me in whatever they do. But I can't stand to see my fans, whom I treasure like my life, leave. I'm sorry. From now on, I won't whine anymore.

"I whine sometimes?" Really? that's what you call a 272 pages tell-all book? Also "I won't whine anymore"?? You think pulling off shit like that and then saying "whoopsie" is enough? It got quiet for a few days and on Aug 10 there was the apology video, which was named "This is my first and last whining". Doubt it. He uses the word ‘弱音’ which has a somewhat vague meaning, using it in an apology video in that context is confusing. Why not call apology as it is? That seems like another politician’s technique.

The apology was impressive in a way. At least it was not a blanket apology, he (or his employees) correctly identified what exactly people were mad about. He said he was really sorry for hurting his fans and causing trouble to people he wrote about. He said he understood that he doesn't have to reveal everything. He also said that he felt the love behind the anger, that fans wrote to him because they cared and were disappointed. Also said he realized that he was protected till now. It was all pretty good right until the very end when he gave a loud 'TEI!' effectively ruining the effect.

Of course, it was good that he did that but I still don't think it even began to make up for all the shit he wrote. The apology would be an adequate step after a shitty Tweet, not a fucking book. Also, I feel like more than anything he just got scared of losing his fans, maybe even sorry for hurting their feelings but not really sorry for what he did. He has no plans to change his behaviour. He wants to be at his 100% assholeness and still be adored.

Of course thousands of merciful women turned to his defence because he looked 'so sad' and even 'thinner'. That's right! He's the real victim here. Must be terrible to hear such hard criticism for the things you actually said and did.

By now I'm barely even angry anymore and a part of me feels sorry for Tegoshi. He's like a dumb spoiled child who wreaks havoc. But I have to remind myself I should not feel sorry. He is in fact an adult man of 32 who is so used he always gets his way that even a minor opposition is viewed by him as a violation of his freedom. And his charm is the very reason he always got away with all the shit he did in life up to this point. I bet he is getting a lot of hate mail and I hope his positivity prepared him for it. I remember him calling Koyama in the middle of the night to come and comfort him while he cried. Also calling Shige to come only to fall asleep in his lap. Now he's on his own. God, right now I just really wish Tegoshi would send himself to the corner and thought about what he's done. Just step aside and shut up for 5 minutes.

But he isn't gonna do it. Of course not. He had a solo concert today and is doing Youtube videos and moving even faster so that people forget about the book.

But fans never will. I can't even say if the book changed my perception or just unveiled what I knew was there all along. For years I've been discarding and questioning all the bad rumours and stories telling myself "He didn't mean it" or "That can't be true" but now it all comes together like pieces of a puzzle, and there's no need to guess anymore because he's shouting "Oh yes I fucking did and I'll do it again!"

All in all, the book paints a picture of a man who is anything but Prince Charming. It chips away any remaining illusions of a 'perfect idol' showing someone who is vain, petty, and chauvinistic. Someone who is obsessed with status and popularity so much that he is willing to sacrifice everything for it and thinks it doesn't matter how bad your reputation is as long as you succeed. Someone who is the very epitome of toxic masculinity, drinks himself to oblivion and treats women like toys. And yet, somehow, I still find myself having to fight the strong urge deep inside of me that makes me want to like him.

[ramblingguy54]

Am I the only one that got simillar vibes with Della finding out Louie was responsible for the Timephoon and Goofy finding out Max changed the map in Goofy Movie? It's cause both involve a struggling parent who thought their kids could do no wrong until they find out in a bad way just how wrong they are.

Abso-fucking-lutely on the mark there, man.

Della’s entire parental conflict in Timephoon mirrors A Goofy Movie’s powerful scene where Goofy looks at the map directions Max changed. Timephoon is easily a masterfully crafted story about a parent having to put their foot down, even if some part of them doesn’t want to, but it needed to be done. Definitely got those vibes myself too about Della’s anger against Louie being very much how deeply hurt and angered Goofy felt at Max lying to him after how much trust he put into treating him as an equal with their road trip directions. Timephoon is up there in my top favorite episodes of the show because it delivers powerfully on what makes Della an endearing, relatable, and highly empathetic character.

What makes Timephoon stand out, pun entirely intended, as an amazing episode is how it studies Della’s loose parenting style she’s been very lenient about with her kids. Something Beakly rightfully calls her out on for being too easy on them when they do stuff that should be addressed, so when you’ve got a kid under your care like Louie it can lead into not so pretty results. Della had to almost learn this lesson at the cost of her entire family, not to mention their whole reality, she had just gotten back not too long ago, as well. Della wasn’t simply just mad at Louie, but furious at him for endangering something she had been longing for in all that painful seclusion on the Moon. She was also upset at herself, considering she finally understood Beakly’s rebuttal about proper parenting as everything she had worked so many days to achieve reuniting with her family was about to wiped clean by Louie’s time traveling scheme to get rich.

A Goofy Movie & Timephoon share the painful lesson of parenting and how it can reflect upon their guardian’s characterization to boot. It’s why Goofy hesitating to open the glove compartment, where they were keeping their road trip map, was so powerfully heartbreaking. Goofy didn’t want to check the map because he was afraid if Max did change their plans to go fishing and head straight to LA for Powerline, then it would mean Max doesn’t respect him as much as Goofy believes him to in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t simply a matter of, “Oh, your kid is bad. Time to lay down the law”, no way. The importance of this moment greatly examines Goofy’s insecurity about being viewed in a bad light by his own son. Goofy can shrug off and tolerate people not thinking much of him, but when Max hates being around his father enough to back stab him are when things take a serious heel turn in the story. When Pete told him that Max changed the map we saw a very serious and vulnerable side to Goofy’s happy go lucky personality. He was utterly crushed by the possibility of Max lying to him, which we see how deeply angered he gets at Pete’s accusation. If Goofy were to accept Pete’s account of Max changing the map and why it happened, this would be a painful punchline for him having to accept that Max doesn’t want to be apart of the family legacy he’s attempting to share on their sentimental road trip.

Della has a highly similar character study in how her parenting style comes back to bite her in the ass. Timephoon examines that while, sure, Della can be a very loving and understanding parent to her children, regarding their needs for affection, she doesn’t know how to put her foot down when one of them steps out of line. In this case, Louie took advantage of her lenient nature to try sweeping his serious oversight of time travel under the rug, but inevitably gets caught by her. Della has been fighting tooth and nail to get home to her kids, so it makes for an amazing poetic gut punch to see the cause of almost destroying their family being the very thing she cares most of all for, one of her kids being the culprit. Della hadn’t been paying much mind to Beakly’s advice until things started getting truly terrible for their situation, so there’s no doubt Della was severely beating herself up. It was because of Della’s spoiling nature for her kids and carelessness she didn’t see the trouble brewing under her nose. Worst case scenario, Della could’ve lost her entire family forever, if she hadn’t stumbled across Louie in time to fix this huge mess he got them all into.

Timephoon shows an amazing parallel of Louie representing Della’s greatest mistake, The Spear of Selene. Della had confidence in braving the unknown of space not just as a seasoned adventurer, but because she wanted to gift her children with a new way to explore their universe being space. Della had never journeyed to space before, so what better gift for her children when they were old enough to do so, right? Louie’s arrogance very much is symbolic of how Della took the Spear, which led to catastrophic consequences. It’s very important to note those factors because this is exactly why Della got so angry with him. She saw the worst of herself in Louie’s actions with time traveling. Louie almost costed them everything solely because he didn’t think through what the kid was getting himself into. Della looked at this as not only needing to be better with a stricter parental attitude, but a reminder of how much she messed up before.

Timephoon & A Goofy Movie should seriously shake hands because they’ve got serious gut punches all around. Della gets thrown the angst line, “I wonder who I got that from...”, from the boy she held in her arms back in Nothing Can Stop Della Duck hitting her where it greatly hurts. What always strikes me about that moment is Della not speaking a word of response to Louie. You can tell Della wants to say something about how much deep seeded remorse she feels for what her past actions did to the entire family, overall. Goofy, on the other hand, sends Max a heavy hitter statement when he finally tries to confess to his father about changing the map directions. When he said, “Why bother? I’m probably too stupid to understand anyway, right?”, God I could feel his pain 200 times over. Goofy wanted to share his family history with Max, so to find out his own son looks down upon who he is must’ve felt like more than a slap in the face. You know what they say in theaters, “Silence is golden.”, considering it’s worth more than a million spoken words. Della & Goofy’s pain revolving around their kids can be felt in their silent expressions after having it out with them in an intensely charged confrontation. That’s what we call beautiful drama right there.

So, yeah, consider this another in-depth post, besides an anon answer, for why I love Timephoon so damn much. It wonderfully explores what makes Della Duck who she is and why I root to see her do better, too. It sharing elements with A Goofy Movie only makes my rewatch experience of it all the sweeter.

[miracul0us-multishipper]

Welcome to the back (Part 10)

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Warning: I am trying not to romanticize Akumatization. Felix’s motives may be noble, but he’s still an akuma and not going easy on anybody. So don’t get your hopes up he might be a chivalrous bad boy who only punishes the evil guys.

- - -

Chat Noir had his baton at hand, camera opened and zooming in on what was happening. He didn’t want his Lady to get hurt, of course. Just to wait long enough that she truly appreciated his arrival.

“That was quick.”, Sentiquill said with raised eyebrows. “How did you...” His eyes widened. “Of course. Marinette still had her phone, right?”

He sighed and raised his quill as Ladybug swung into the room, planting herself between him and the students.

“You have bigger worries now, Sentiquill.”, the spotted heroine declared, then turned towards his terrified classmates. “You guys! Everybody out of here, and take Alya and Madame Bustier with you!”

The class hurried to comply, and Chat Noir purred with adoration. She was always concerned for others, looking out for everybody. It was so cute! Though he didn’t get why she hadn’t tried to lure Sentiquill outside. The classroom wasn’t ideal for a fight, space was limited and furniture created unnecessary hindrances. What was she thinking?

Sentiquill seemed confused as well, suspiciously taking a step back. Ladybug was known for her impossible traps and plans, it was only natural he’d be on edge.

“Felix”, Ladybug called him surprisingly gentle. Caring even. “Give me the quill. We can end this without a fight.”

Chat scowled. No fighting? Then how was he supposed to impress her? And why was she so sympathetic towards Felix of all people? She’d never talked to Chat like that! So... sweetly. It made his nose wrinkle in jealousy.

“Trying to reason with an Akuma, Ladybug? Unusual approach.”, Sentiquill commented, adopting a fighting stance. “What’s the reason for your sudden change of attitude? Gone pacifist overnight?”

“I know you can’t want this.”, his Lady continued unwavering. Did she know Felix personally? Did she visit him after patrol, now that she had forbidden Chat from accompanying her? His claws dug into the ground and bared his fangs when she continued.

“You’re a thinker.” The admiration in her voice made him sick. “You enjoy outsmarting people, you don’t like resorting to violence. Let me help you, please!”

His breathing hitched. Why was she- Why would- Didn’t she think of him at all?! She couldn’t just go around saying stuff like that! It was far too... intimate!

Sentiquill didn’t seem to share Chat’s opinion, instead of flustered, he looked furious.

“Help me?!”

In the blink of an eye he was moving, slashing his sword and shooting ink at Ladybug. She blocked it with her yo-yo, but the force of the attack hurled her through the window into the yard, where the rest of the class ran into hiding. She landed on her feet, sliding over the ground.

“You didn’t care to help Marinette either!”, Sentiquill roared. “All it would have taken was a single word of you and nobody would have listened to Lila ever again!”

“I know, and I regret this, but-“

“Then show it!”

Sentiquill followed her, attacked with his blade from every angle. Ladybug could barely keep up with blocking his slashes with the string of her yo-yo.

“Come on, tell them the truth!”, Sentiquill snarled and gave her a shove that sent her against a wall. “Tell them who Lila really is!”

The students leaned out of their hideouts, curious for what was going on despite the danger. Chat stiffened. Surely she wouldn’t... Ladybug knew how important it was to leave Lila in peace, didn’t she? She wouldn’t say anything rash now, would she?

Ladybug got up again, a fearsome scowl on her face.

“You think Marinette cares about that now? She wants her friend back!”

A bitter laugh got over her lips, so untypical for her Chat leaned back a little.

“But fine! I couldn’t like Lila less! She’s a dirty liar, we’re not best friends and I would be more than glad if she left Paris again. Happy now?”

The yard was dead silent. If Lila was still hiding somewhere, Chat couldn’t see her. He was flabbergasted. Had Ladybug just... Was she insane?! Oh fuck, he should have joined the fight when it hadn’t been too late yet. Now his carefully protected, unproblematic school life would be completely out of control!

Sentiquill laughed in disbelief.

“Why, thank you, Ladybug! I didn’t expect you to actually do that for me.”

He smiled, genuinely. If Chat hadn’t still been so rattled, he would have hissed in disgust.

“I appreciate the effort. Alas...”

His face darkened.

“Too little, too late. The damage is done, and I’ll set things right again.”

He raised his sword.

“Let’s see which dark secrets hide behind that little mask of yours.”

He pounced again, ink swirling through the air. Ladybug held her own skillfully, dodging his slices at her sides, dancing around the ink torrents he sent her way and blocking the thrusts of his blade. Before he realized it, Sentiquill was dangerously low on ink. Hectically he looked around for a potential victim and made a run for Rose, who had leaned out of the girl’s bathroom a little too far. Before he could reach her, Ladybug’s yo-yo wrapped around his foot and kept him in place. That’s when she spotted him on the roof.

“Chat Noir!”, she shouted without sparing Chat a second glance, eyes fixed on her opponent. “Finally!”

Not the greeting he had hoped for. Ugh! This whole day was a disaster, nothing went as planned! Couldn’t life go his way just this once?!

“His quill’s ink comes from negativity others carry!”, Ladybug informed him of what he already knew. “You need to get the civilians out of the way!”

That’s all she wanted of him? Not to fight by her side, to protect her from Felix, but to play savior for classmates he already protected from their own carelessness as Adrien? Who would doubtlessly create nothing but chaos now that Lila was exposed? No, he didn’t think so!

Angry, Chat stood on the roof and watched Ladybug. She really was getting arrogant these days, yelling at him to leave her alone and then expecting him to follow her every command. A decision formed in his mind and he crossed his arms. It wouldn’t do any real harm if he left her to deal with this alone, would it? Miraculous Ladybug always cured everyone anyway. So why not teach her a lesson?

“Wonderful morning to you as well, My Lady!”, he hissed sarcastically. “I thought we shouldn’t work together until absolutely necessary?”

Her face fell. She was still fighting to keep Sentiquill in place, who was hacking at her weapon with his quill. Revenge truly is sweet.

“Chat, this is not the time to-“

“Exactly!”, he interrupted her smugly. “Now is not the time it’s necessary.”

With a satisfied grin he dropped on his butt, watching cross legged as her grip on Sentiquill loosened and he ripped himself free.

Rose had started to run, abandoning her hideout to escape to Juleka. The taller girl was hiding behind the stairs and hectically waved her girlfriend closer.

But Rose had no chance to outrun an Akuma.

When Sentiquill stabbed the hilt of his quill into her back, her scream was drowned out by Juleka’s.

Chat flinched, but forced himself to stay put. He had to do this, Ladybug forced him to. If she didn’t learn to respect him more now, she’d only harm their teamwork and therefore endangered Paris in the long run.

Yes, Chat Noir was in the right. She’d understand that, eventually.

This occupied with his own righteousness, he didn’t notice his ring beginning to pulse in a green glow, reacting towards its wielder’s deeds. Fused with his chosen, a Kwami could not consciously act on their own. But every one of them could feel if their power was abused, it changed their aura in the fabric of reality itself. The change might not be noticeable to humans, but fellow Kwamis would feel it instantly, just like they had felt it with the very first akuma.

Four thousand meters away, a little green creature snapped out of his slumber and flew to his master, warning him of the danger it sensed. The guardian’s eyes closed in resignation as he stood up, ready to do what was necessary.

They had lost Nooroo.

They could not afford to lose Plagg.

-

Ladybug in the meantime was despairing. Juleka had jumped out of hiding to help her girlfriend, who was forced to whimper about being a burden to everyone as Sentiquill dragged her innermost fears to light. If Ladybug tried to save Rose, she’d make herself vulnerable for an attack and Sentiquill had the chance to go after Juleka instead. So she had to make the unfair, horrible choice and intercepted Juleka, stopping her before she could get too close.

“Stay hidden!”, she tried to calm her, “I’ll take care of everything!”

“Rose! ROSE!”, Juleka yelled, not listening. With a groan Ladybug lifted the struggling girl up and ran towards the next classroom in which she found Nathaniel and Mylène, standing protectively over Alya’s and Bustier’s unconscious bodies.

“Take care of her!”, she ordered as she pushed Juleka inside. “Don’t let her out and stay hidden! Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”, Nathaniel hurried to assure her. According to his intimidated face, she was sounding harsher than expected. She nodded and closed the door again, turning back to the yard. There was no time to think of a plan, however, because Sentiquill’s ink was already all around her before she could fully face him. At the very last moment she managed to jump up the wall and somersault into safety, milliseconds before the black torrents crashed down on the place she had been a moment ago. She had no time to get to her bearings, Sentiquill’s blade coming at her from left and right.

“Chat!”, she screamed for her partner, desperately trying to avoid getting hit. Rose was laying on the ground a few meters away, drained and crying. How could Chat Noir abandon her like this?! “Stop this nonsense and help me!”

The other hero only crossed his arms and pouted.

“I’m not sure if you really mean that. What’s the magic word?”

She was on the brink of tears when Sentiquill started to laugh at her.

“Looks like Marinette isn’t the only one with friends who won’t stand up for her.”, he said almost pitifully as he brought his blade down on her. “You truly have a prick of a partner, Ladybug. My sincere condolences.”

She ducked to escape the blow, only to be kicked in the chest when she came up again. The impact sent her crashing into a wall again, and she had to cough a few times before being able to breathe again. If it hadn’t been for her magically strengthened suit, she would’ve had a few broken ribs.

To her surprise, Sentiquill allowed her a few seconds of calm to turn towards her par- Chat Noir. In a single, fluid motion he thrusted the Quill in his direction, creating a blizzard of ink headed straight for the treacherous cat. He barely had the time to take out one of his batons, which was promptly knocked out of his hand. The metallic clang told Ladybug it landed somewhere on the upper walkway, out of her sight. Chat Noir screamed when the ink hit him and knocked him straight into the nearest chimney. Cursing, he got up and searched for cover as Sentiquill’s attention shifted back to Ladybug.

“See this as my thanks for exposing Lila earlier.”, he stated matter-of-fact and pointed his sword at her. “Now give me your Miraculous!”

Ladybug inhaled and stood up straight.

This was going to be a long day.

-

Sentiquill was vicious. She was still shaken from being thrown into a wall - again! - and without Chat at her side she was quickly loosing ground. Her supposed partner had started to watch from the sidelines again, continuing to ask- no, demand that she apologized and begged for his help. As if she was some kind of stubborn, disobedient pet.

She was all but sobbing in frustration when Sentiquill cornered her at a wall, with no chance of cover.

“Come on, My Lady!”, Chat patronized her like a parent would a toddler. “You’ll only end up hurt if you keep this up. Just say it already!”

She’d never regarded Chat Noir as anything other than a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Right now, however, the feeling that burnt in her lungs was dangerously close to hate.

“Please!”, she swallowed down her pride and fought back tears. “I’m sorry for rejecting you! Please help me!”

Sentiquill towered over her, his gleaming blade at her throat. He could hear their conversation, but he couldn’t see from which direction Chat Noir could attack without taking his eyes off of Ladybug - who would use every chance to escape. Behind him on the roof, Chat Noir got up and stretched.

“As you wish, My Lady!”, he beamed smugly and raised his hand. “Cataclysm!”

Sentiquill smiled, just when Chat jumped down on them. Only now she realized he hadn’t been looking at her. The Akuma had watched Chat’s reflection in his blade.

It was too late to warn him. Chat - rash as always - was already descending, his sparking claws aimed at their opponents back. In the last second, Sentiquill moved aside, just when the cataclysmic hand came down on them, not able to stop or avert its course - which now aimed for Ladybug on the floor. He was going to hit her.

She was going to be cataclysmed.

She was going to die, at Chat Noir’s hands.

She didn’t, of course. But it was close. Chat Noir, eyes wide with terror, had pulled his hand aside just when Ladybug had flinched in fear, missing her head by a hairs breadth. Instead, he touched the ground beneath them.

Ladybug recovered first from the shock, rolling aside and throwing her yo-yo around a chimney to pull her to safety. Chat Noir wasn’t as quick. He was still frozen in place when the ground and part of the wall behind them began to crumble, before breaking through completely. He screamed when he fell into the cellar, and then again when he was hit by debris.

“My jaw!”, she heard out of the newly created hole. Carefully, she inched her way foreword. The ground seemed stable enough now - Chat less so. He was back down on the bottom of the whole, trapped by the bricks and concrete debris that covered him. One piece had hit him right into the face, effectively breaking his jaw.

He was yelling and wailing, unable to move beneath all this debris. If it hadn’t been for his suit, he would be dead now, no doubt about it. His ring gave a weak blink and made peeping sounds. Time was running out!

“Take his Miraculous!”, she could hear Hawkmoth’s voice and turned around to see Sentiquill standing over the hole as well, a violet butterfly outline in front of his face. He shrugged.

“That one’s out of commission, he’s not going anywhere. Let him suffer a bit.”

His blood red eyes fixated her.

“For now, I’ll take care of the bug first.”

She had no chance. He was faster than her, and her yo-yo was a limited defense against a sword. Without any hope of back up she was as good as defeated. Still. When he finally hit her with his nib, she was surprised anyway - for a second, at least. Then, her mind and body went numb.

”Gotcha!”, Sentiquill mocked her with her own catchphrase. “Now, show us how perfect Paris’ hero truly is!”

The sensation was... terrifying. Control of her body was stolen from her as his power rummaged through her mind, finding all her dark, hidden places and tearing them out of her.

“I... I am scared... that I’m alone.”, she pressed out between clenched teeth, trying to fight his spell.

In vain.

“That I have to carry all this responsibility alone a-and mess up. I’ll disappoint everyone.”

She closed her eyes as darkness rose around her, feeding into Sentiquill’s weapon. He scoffed, before giving her a malicious smirk.

“Oh, but you already have.”, his painfully familiar voice dictated. The words seeped into her mind, trying to take root. She couldn’t let that happen, she knew it was a trick. The people he drained sank into a despair of his making, it was just Hawkmoth’s magic!

“You currently are, and you won’t stop being a single great disappointment.”, he finished, breaking through her mental defenses. She flinched, realizing he was right. She... had lost. She had been abandoned by her partner, her best friend was fighting her and she was... too weak to save him. Useless.

”You had your fun, Sentiquill.”, Hawkmoth’s voice commented. “Now take her miraculous.”

His champion nodded, but didn’t seem as if he had quite enough yet.

”Anything else you want to fail at?”, he asked her gleefully. “Keeping your identity secret, for example?” He laughed when she lowered her head.

“Come on, tell us who you really are, beneath all that false glamor!”

“I’m...”, her voice began, part of her still trying to resist. “I-I am... Ma-“

A loud clang startled her and Sentiquill’s sword was knocked out of his hand by a flash of silver. He jumped back in surprise and looked at the object that had hit him: a silver staff, clearly belonging to a certain Cat. But Chat was buried beneath tons of debris! Who had...?

She looked around and her eyes, blurry with unshed tears, focused on a splotch of yellow on the metal walkway. Was that... Chloé?

“Hey, Leanne!”, the reckless girl yelled and flung her hair over her shoulder. “Stop being such an obnoxious bastard and get away from the Lady!”

She grinned, propping her chin up on one hand and giving him her most judgmental glare.

“You’re acting utterly ridiculous.”

An angry snarl came from Sentiquill as he picked up his sword and jumped up to the walkway, cornering her. Chloé didn’t even look at him, instead leaned over the handrail to wave at her in excitement.

“Hey, Ladybug”, she greeted without a care in the world. “It’s me, Chloé! Did you see that throw?! Just miraculous, wasn’t it?”

Sentiquill towered behind her like an angry bull, but she only spared him an annoyed glance.

“Oh shoo, get away from me with that ugly hat! Who designed your outfit?! It looks like a toddler made it!”

The violet outline returned to his face.

“Stab her, now!”, Hawkmoth shrieked, having temporarily forgotten about Ladybug. Not that it was of much use to her. She was beaten and on the ground. There was no way she’d get up now. She was a failure, a lost cause.

And so she could only watch as Sentiquill raised his sword and hit Chloé with the nib of the hilt.

“If that isn’t a whole lot of dark thoughts you have. Care to share them, Bourgeois?”

Chloé contorted her face in pain, but didn’t flinch when the inky swirls rose around her.

“I don’t know how to act around the others, after all that I’ve done.”, she admitted openly, with no sign of being forced to. “I don’t want to disappoint Ladybug, and I certainly don’t want to become like my mom. But i can’t apologize either, I don’t know how. And I hate feeling vulnerable like that; to be at the mercy of other’s judgement.”

Sentiquill scoffed, ready to fill her with his poisonous words as he had with Ladybug.

“It’s in vain, Chloé, and you know it. You already are just as horrible and worthless as your mother, and Ladybug is fully aware of that. That’s why she took away your Miraculous for good.”

Ladybug knows what came next; she was experiencing it herself, after all. The doubt, the pain, the horrible knowledge to be useless.

But Chloé surprised her. Instead of crumbling under his scorching glare, she looked him straight in the eye, chin up and back straightened.

“I don’t believe you.”, she declared confidently. “I know my worth. You’ve all already seen me at my worst, and I’ve dealt with Hawkmoth and Mayura at the same day. Your ridiculous power doesn’t impress me, Felix.”

Sentiquill let go of her, visibly taken aback. It took him a moment before he could collect himself.

“Pah.”, he played her resistance off. “Your confidence is admirable, for someone this...”

He trailed off. His gaze had wandered behind Chloé and downwards, where Marinette’s earlier ink prison stood. Ladybug gulped. Now that he was on the walkway, in an elevated position, he could look right inside the cylindrical cell.

“Empty...”, he whispered, his hands clenching to fists. Then he pounced, landing right on the walls to check every angle. “Empty! Where is she? Where is Marinette?!”

He looked around, eyes rabid with fury, searching for the rest of the class.

“Who of you took her?! TELL ME!”

Ladybug flinched as she watched him slice the prison into shards of dried ink, his angry roar echoing off the walls of the yard.

“Don’t get distracted!”, Hawkmoth tried to command. “Give me Ladybug’s Miraculous, now!”

“Shut up! Where is Marinette?!”, Sentiquill yelled back, his sword hacking at bare stones now. He caught sight of Nino, hidden beneath the stairs, who was filming everything with his phone. He growled and stomped towards him, but before he could even take two steps, a flash of purple covered his hand and he screamed in pain. What had happened? Was Hawkmoth punishing him?

She didn’t have time to ponder. In the meantime, Chloé had managed to run down the stairs and shout orders at the rest of the class, before dashing over to Ladybug. The fallen heroine groaned in pain when she was picked up and pulled to the side of the yard.

“Come on, Ladybug!”, Chloé muttered, panting under the weight of her idol. “You gotta kick his ass! Get up already!”

Ladybug closed her eyes, resigned.

“I can’t.”, she whispered. “I’m sorry! I’ve disappointed you. I... can’t.”

Chloé pouted, hands on her hips.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course you can!”

She shook her head. Useless, worthless, abandoned.

“Okay, I’ll definitely feel bad about this later.”, Chloé sighed. Then she slapped her - hard!

“Ow!”, she yelled and sat up straight. “What the-“

”Stop the nonsense right there, Ladybug! Look at me, I’m still on my feet as well. If I can fight him, you can do it too!”

”But...”, she protested, still halfway under the spell. “I failed! I’m alone and... I failed.”

Exasperated, Chloé rolled her eyes.

“You haven’t failed yet, and you’re not alone. Look!”

She gestured at the yard, where her classmates had come out of hiding. Some were armed with brooms or mops, Markov flew around clutching a wrench twice his size while Max was carrying an unconscious Rose to safety. Kim had Alix on his shoulders, who held a spray can in each hand and looked ready to bite her way through to Sentiquill. Next to them was Nino, rotating his headphones like a lasso - or like her yo-yo! And was that a knife in Sabrina’s hand?! Where had that come from?!

Chloé flipped back her ponytail, obviously proud.

“We’re all with you. Now get up or my knees will get dusty.”

Ladybug smiled as the last bit of darkness faded from her. It felt like breathing after being underwater for too long.

“We can’t have that, now, can we?”, she chuckled and stood up. “Thanks, Chloé. You did great!”

The blonde blushed and swatted her hand through the air.

“A-alright, alright, I know I’m awesome. Do your thing!”

She didn’t have to ask twice. Now that she was free of Sentiquill’s influence, he would get his ass handed to him on a silver platter!

“Lucky Charm!”, Ladybug yelled and threw her yo-yo, only to catch a long, rectangular box.

“Aluminum foil?”, she wondered when she opened it. How would that help her?

She looked around. Her eyes fell on Ivan and Kim, on Alix’ skaters, then on a table next to the hole Chat Noirs cataclysm had caused. It was missing two legs thanks to the crumbled wall, but maybe...? She looked to the other side, then to Chloé in front of her.

Handrail. Nino’s phone case. Sunlight. Sabrina on the walkway. Quill. Chloé’s sunglasses. Aluminum foil!

“Yes!”, she cheered, then pulled Chloé closer. “I need your help! And your sunglasses!”

The blonde all but sparked with excitement.

“Aye, Aye, Ladybug!”

-

“Sentiquill!”, Ladybug called her opponent, who had only recently recovered from Hawkmoth’s punishment. Since then, he’d been busy defending himself from all kinds of objects that were hurled at him from a safe distance. Whenever he tried to attack one of the students, the others would step in with even more things to throw. They were no match for his sword, of course - it simply sliced through the stones and metals with ease - but it had slowed him down, irritated him. Now however, her preparations were complete. It was time to bring Sentiquill down and get her Felix back!

“Time to end this!”

“Finally something we can agree on!”, he snapped back, quill at the ready. She smiled grimly and put on the sunglasses, then went in for the attack. She was lighter on her feet, this time, her steps elevated by the knowledge her friends had her back. She dove underneath the first blow and jabbed at his face, but he dodged and jumped back a little. They danced around each other in a dangerous game of a fight, a competition to see who would show weakness first. He didn’t notice she was maneuvering him closer and closer to the stairway.

“Now!”, she gave the signal when she had him where she wanted. Sabrina nodded and raised her hand, Nino’s phone case in her hand. It was wrapped in Aluminum foil and reflected the sun like a mirror, blinding the fighters below. Well, one of them, at least. Chloé’s sunglasses allowed Ladybug to get the upper hand and she dealt a rapid series of blows and kicks to his torso. Enraged, Sentiquill blindly slashed in the direction of Sabrina, shooting ink at her. A grave mistake! Chloé pulled her friend out of the way in time, and now Sentiquill had left his sword hand wide open. With all her weight Ladybug threw herself against him and hurled him forwards, until his sword slipped between two bars of the stair’s handrail.

“What the-“, Sentiquill begun but never finished. He had caught sight of his impeding doom in form of three students and a table with roller blades.

“Here I come!”, Alix announced from on top of the table, which had its two remaining front legs tugged in her skates. Behind her, Ivan and Kim high-fived before giving the improvised battering ram a strong shove. It scooted down the stairs towards the exposed broadside of the Akuma’s quill.

“Razzle Dazzle!”, Alix cheered when the table crashed into the metal, shattering it in two.

Sentiquill sank to the ground as his power was drained from him and the corrupted butterfly broke free of his quill’s shards. Triumphant, Ladybug opened her yo-yo.

“Enough evil doing for you today, little Akuma. Time to de-evilize!”

She spun around herself to gather momentum, then threw her yo-yo and let it snap shut around the troublesome akuma.

“Gotcha! Bye bye little butterfly.”

Relieved, she released the purified butterfly into the sky, then she held her hand out towards Nino. Sabrina had returned his phone to him, and now he happily removed the Aluminum wrap from its case.

“That was a close one, dudette!”

She sighed and weighed the balled foil in her hand.

“It really was. Miraculous Ladybug!”

Pink and red lights flashed over the sky, then swirled around the school. Broken doors and windows repaired themselves, ink stains vanished from the walls. The hole in the ground was closed by the Cure as well, just like the adjacent wall. The door towards the other classroom opened and Nathaniel and Mylène came out, followed by a cured Alya and their teacher. Juleka flung her arms around Rose’s neck, who nearly cried into her black shirt. Everyone was unharmed again. Well... almost everyone.

Ladybug stepped next to Sentiquill the moment the purple smoke around him faded, turning him back into Felix.

“What... What happened?”, he asked confused, holding his head. His eyes widened and he jumped to his feet. “Where’s Marinette?!”

“Don’t worry.”, she calmed him, hiding her euphoria at having him back behind a soothing smile. “She’s alright. How are you feeling?”

He blinked, looking at the repaired pen in his hand.

“I’m... fine, I think. Why does Sabrina have a knife?”

Ladybug’s smile turned forced.

“I‘m afraid to ask, if I’m being honest.”

-

A floor further down, Adrien beat the dust out of his clothes and rubbed his freshly healed jaw. Miraculous Ladybug had closed the gaping hole above his head only seconds before his transformation ran out, keeping his identity a secret once again. That aside, this akuma attack had been a single disaster.

“I can’t believe it”, he muttered. “She just left me lying down here! I was hurt and bleeding, and Ladybug doesn’t even come to look after me.”

He groaned.

“This day is a catastrophe! I almost had her admitting she needs me, and then everything went south! That stunt with my Cataclysm? Lord, that was so embarrassing! A rookie mistake; I was looking like an idiot. Do you think she’s still mad at me, Plagg?”

Only silence answered him and he turned to search for his Kwami.

“Plagg?”

The tiny creature floated motionless in front of him, eyes hard as granit and his face absolutely expressionless. Adrien shrank under his burning gaze.

“Look, I know I should have intervened earlier.”, he tried to appease him. Plagg’s expression was creeping him out. “But I already got my punishment, didn’t I? Ladybug exposed Lila, and now school is going to be so much drama. Lesson learned.”

His Kwami was still silent. Slowly Adrien started to get nervous. Sweat was forming on his forehead and he was going for a shifting of blame before he fully realized it.

“It’s not like it was all my fault, you know?”, he desperately tried to fill the quietness. “If Ladybug hadn’t slapped me the last time, we wouldn’t have gotten into this mess!”

His words sounded eerily close to what he’d said about Marinette earlier, he noticed.

“I just wanted her to learn how to treat her partner better! I’ll be nicer next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.”, a commanding voice behind him declared. “And you are in no position to teach Ladybug a single thing.”

Adrien whirled around, raising his hand.

“Claws out!”, he yelled before remembering Plagg hadn’t eaten yet. There would be no transformation any time soon. Realizing his defenselessness, he swallowed and looked at the figure that had ambushed him. As if on cue, it stepped out of the shadows, revealing...

“Master Fu?”

Adrien almost fainted in relieve.

“Oh god, you gave me the scare of my life! What’s the matter? Any new potions to deliver?”

The guardian didn’t blink. Instead he raised his hand, expectantly.

“You have forsaken your partner. You have willfully sacrificed a civilian in order to punish Ladybug. You have abused your powers by choosing inaction for the sake of revenge.”

Adrien gulped when Fu came closer.

“I cannot risk Ladybugs safety anymore. Give me your Miraculous, boy.”

“What?!”, he spluttered, covering the ring with his other hand. “No! You don’t even know the whole story, it was nothing like that!”

Fu’s eyes narrowed.

“I won’t ask again.”

“But I am Chat Noir! Ladybug and I are meant to be together- to be a team! You can’t take that from us!”

He searched for his Kwami, desperate.

“Tell him, Plagg! I was just helping Ladybug grow to be the bigger person! It’s not like there’s any permanent damage anyway.”

The cat Kwami closed his eyes and breathed out. When he opened them again, there was no compassion in them.

“I’m sorry, Kiddo.”

Adrien had no time to react. Fu’s cane had jabbed at him out of nothing, swatting his hand into the air. His ring slipped of his finger and was caught on the wooden staff, just when Plagg began to blur and merge with it again.

Adrien stumbled back in shock, before fury took control of him. How dare he?!

“No!”

With a battle cry he went after Fu, fists clenched and ready to get his ring back by any means necessary.

He was taller than Fu, younger and quicker. The senile guardian wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“Shelter!”, a voice to his right exclaimed and a green, solid barrier slammed into his side. Adrien yelped when he was thrown against a pipe and fell to the ground, breath knocked out of his lungs. He panted for air and looked up.

A tiny green creature floated next to Fu, hands raised to summon what he knew as Carapace’s superpower. Wayzz, the turtle Kwami, Plagg had mentioned once.

Adrien’s eyes widened. He might’ve had a chance to win against Fu, but a Kwami was another topic. Without his Miraculous, he stood no chance.

“Please!”, he resorted to begging, tears welling up in his eyes. “I need it! There’s nothing I can do as Adrien, I’ll be trapped at home forever! What will Ladybug be without me?”

Fu turned his back on him without hesitation, walking towards the stairs.

“Better off, I hope.”, he retorted coldly. “I regret your situation, but I can’t afford to waste Plagg’s powers on someone out of pity.”

He stopped.

“Adrien Agreste, you were granted the Miraculous of Destruction, a great honor. But you abused this privilege for selfish gains and tormented the one you were meant to protect. You will never again be worthy of its powers.”

He sighed when Adrien let out a helpless sob.

“I hope you can grow beyond what you are now, I really do. But until then... Farewell.”

With that, he disappeared into the shadows of the cellar, leaving Adrien behind.