#i hope he tests free agency just so he can see how much everyone wants him LMAO | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daz4i · 2 years ago

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okay well i’m taking it out of my head and putting the idea in this post now. bc why not. it did end up being mostly a nikolai animatic even if not quite fully. hope the lyrics lines don’t break lol. this is very messy don't say i didn't warn you, i don't think it's actually practical to make unless you collab with like. 20 animators fr

opening music: just like. introduction. a title

Have you ever died in a nightmare? Woke up surprised you hadn't earned your fate?

we start with a shot of sigma falling out of the casino, then waking up in the desert, laying on the ground face up, with a shadow on him that is very obviously nikolai as he opens his eyes

Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis And collapsed and threw the planet away?

going back to see him in the casino, panicking in his office, and then fighting the hunting dogs with all his sorts of guns

Everyone's just blood in an ice tray

a cut to bram’s coffin

A vampire picking flowers out in the sun

bram on aya’s back, listening to music with his eyes closed

Run your diagnostic tests, its posited nobody dies agnostic But we still dial 9-1-1 Now we're singing

a shot of the hunting dogs from afar, as we then get closer to them, we zoom in on fukuchi’s face and his expression shifts to something more sinister in the last line

Ooh, could you take a look at me? (It's the norm for animals, it's the norm for chemicals)

shots of nikolai’s more gruesome murders, maybe all of them in the same shot, or 2 in 2 shots

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

cuts to his other crimes - the driver of mushi’s car, shooting the government official, the video the agency sees

(It's the norm for particles, eye for eye for tooth)

this kinda overlaps with the previous one, but the “eye for eye” is a bit longer so i want there to be shots of his eyes to go with each one. like. his injured eye first, then his other eye

Ooh, whatever you think of me (It's the norm for chemicals, it's the norm for particles)

still overlapping from the previous line, we now see nikolai without his mask, very obviously in the hallway where he fought atsushi (maybe with an outline of atsushi from behind to show he’s in the room?)

If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same damn miles I do (Yes, it's only natural)

nikolai looks down sadly, and a cage appears behind him/around his head

We're only tuning to the tone of the bell curve now

a background of lots of screens with the rats symbol on them, and what is obviously fyodor’s outline as a shadow in the middle of the room

Ask not for whom it tolls

a close up on fyodor’s face, where he has a sinister smile

But with my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground

obviously we need a shot of fyodor on a roof here. duh. his hair blowing in the wind or smth bc he’s a dramatic ass like that

And from up here you look like ants in a row

a shot from above/behind him (sort of both? idk how to explain it but it’s very vivid in my head lol) as he looks over yokohama

It doesn't take a killer to murder

we see fyodor placing his hand on someone’s face - i wanna say karma bc why not - from the side. what i have in mind is fyodor on the right and karma on the left. no particular reason it just makes sense visually to me idk

It only takes the reason to kill

a mirror of the previous image - fyodor on the left, still viewed from the side, but this time he’s holding The Book

(^you can also connect these two to mirror the crime and punishment scene from dead apple, as in, two fyodors on screen where he does both of these at once)

We've all got evidence of innocence, it's "everything's coincidence"

he then turns to face the camera, maybe looking down a bit, and smiles

The difference twixt fate and free will Is whether you're singing

the “camera” shifts to show us nikolai with his exposed eye sprakling, mirroring the scene where fyodor saw through him

Ooh, could you take a look at me? (It's the norm for animals, it's the norm for chemicals)

back to nikolai on the stream to the agency, except it lingers for longer this time

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad? (It's the norm for particles, I for I for tooth)

shots of the men tied to the chairs, maybe with nikolai's hand on the backs of the chairs as it switches between them

Ooh, whatever you think of me (It's the norm for chemicals, it's the norm for particles)

a sudden cut to the agency members standing outside the door, we see kunikida fiddling with the lock

If you were in my shoes, you'd walk the same damn miles I do (Yes, it's only natural)

we see these words being written in The Book, mimicking the scene from the manga/anime of nikolai's words being written in it

there's a lot of music with no singing in this part. we see the agency now wearing the white clothes, tanizaki holding the switch, you know the whole ordeal, as well as a white bird with mismatched eyes stuck in a cage, then cutting back to nikolai tied in the chair as well

Somebody help, woah!

obviously we get nikolai screaming here lol

there's more music with no singing. we see nikolai getting cut in half, and a now empty cage dropping to the ground

So if you wash your hands of where you've been until you flood the second floor

fyodor and dazai in meursault talking through their cells

Neatly fold your skeletons but still can't shut the closet door

fyodor brings up sigma. we see it as a close up on his face, and ig a part of the screen becoming sigma, specifically him on the ground looking up

The only ones in need of love are those who don't receive enough

the part of the screen of sigma becomes all of it, and we now see fyodor's outstretched hand reaching out to him

So evil ones should get a little more

we see a close up of seemingly unrelated pairs of hands clasping each other, one pair obviously larger than the other

You, could you take a look at me? (You could break an angel's fall, and ignore the Devil's call)

we zoom out, and see that those were nikolai and fyodor's hands, from where nikolai grabs his hands in their reunion

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad? (Still forsaken shoulders fall silent now)

first "am i bad" is a shot of fyodor looking pleased, mirroring his reaction to the thought of dazai dying, second "am i bad" is dazai from that same shot, third is nikolai smiling sinisterly, "am i really that bad" is sigma with a shocked face

Now we're singing Ooh, whatever you think of me (It's no more than cultural, you and me inseparable)

a sudden cut to the boat. atsushi and akutagawa leaning on each other, atsushi wearing rashoumon

If the shoe fits would you walk that mile?

the "camera" turns to show fukuchi with his hands cut off

You could put it on the other foot, it's the same size (It's a small hell after all)

we see fukuchi's sword cut atsushi's arm off, with him looking whole and his hands being okay

You, could you take a look at me? (Man no more than animal is made of moral chemicals)

a short close up on fukuchi's face, then we see him ready his sword

Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad?

again switching for every "am i bad": blood splatters on fukuchi's face / bram in his more monstrous form, where he turns akutagawa to a vampire / sigma with his guns, looking full of rage / nikolai standing with fire and smoke or a pile of bodies around him

(Any form mechanical, thank you God)

fyodor with the background of screens again, except this time he's facing the camera and his arms are outstretched to the sides

Ooh, whatever you think of me (From the hordes of cannibals, to psych wards of hospitals)

we're back to the hallway where nikolai and atsushi fought, this time nikolai's face is close to atsushi's, his eye exposed, but he's smiling

If you were in my shoes, you'd see I wear the same size as you (It's a small world after all)

nikolai places the mask back on his eye, and his hand hides the rest of his face, except for the hint of a smile from behind it

and that's it! roll credits. if you read this i am kissing you so many times. or if you're uncomfortable with that i am giving you so many high fives and/or hugs. thank you

well the good news is the nikolai laplace's angel animatic in my head is now a full doa animatic. the bad news is i still can't draw/animate it so it's forced to forever stay there

#dan rambles #this is. so vivid in my head idk if i described it well tho 😭#either way i hope you liked it! this took like. an hour to type out lol #if this inspires you in any way - even making one frame that resonated with you or just giving you a general art idea -#- please tag me in it if you post or send it my way if you don't!!!!

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thrndlngs · 3 years ago

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three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character. also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties. ♡

"'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters ── which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship.

“shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department.

“we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning.��

“──stop talking, it’s distracting me.”

your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter.

“they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

“three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

“──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

“we haven’t played that since── “

“yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.”

you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

“let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same.

it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight ── but there wasn’t really much you could do.

“two minutes.”

this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

“i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

“i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

“──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

“says the one whose sweating to death.”

“and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

“yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.”

he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.”

in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.”

“are you serious?”

“oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

“it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder.

“okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

“mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart.

“now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

“good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

“──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

“no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

“is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”

he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

“and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours ── regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him.

as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight?

“d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

“only because you have food.”

he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different.

so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

“i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well ── these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often.

“you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating.

“──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

“because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him ── he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

“if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

“a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.”

“don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you ──

you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you ── stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him.

yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it?

but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it ── despite the ache in his chest.

iv.

"we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

“pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different.

“try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

“make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should.

he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.”

“it better stay that way ‘toshi.”

he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none.

he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

“──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you.

you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

“you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.”

you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

#shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #bnha imagine #bnha drabble #mha drabble #mha imagine #shinsou tbt.#( this is so lame bc i wrote this at 1:43 am while at work JHADKJHDA )#╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ 𝐉𝐀𝐘𝐄 ┊ WRITINGS .

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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years ago

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Where There Is Change

Discovery

@maribat-bdbwm

So I will not be following the prompt days at all. If any fall on the right day it is by chance. All of them will be written but not by the calendar order.

Without further ado.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time Marinette would have bent over backwards, dropped everything, and would never have questioned her friends. But now she was turning fourteen. She has been fighting Hawkmoth for three years, with no end in sight. Her friends, if she could still call them that, behind Lila's lies and followed her like sheep. You can only push a person so far until they break.

That was what happened to Mari.

She was pushed to do dresses, suits, casual wear, and banners with little to no notice for free, without even a thank you. She was made to plan and make baked goods and food for bake sales and fun raisers for class trips, picnics, and parties that she could not attend. They spoke to her condescendingly as if she was stupid, honeyed words to guilt her to do everything while they did nothing and reaped rewards.

At the end of her 7th year, she put in a signed request (by herself and Mendeleiev) to transfer into Mendeleiev's class. But surprise surprise it was denied. Bustier, her homeroom teacher last year denied her transfer, because she wanted to keep all her students the same.

Fine if this was how she wanted to be, well she had nothing left to give.

You can only give so much before becoming empty when you never receive anything.

The first thing she did was step down from class representative. "Miss Bustier?" she stood up from her seat in the back.

"Yes." said teacher smiled at her.

"I am renouncing my title of class representative, effective immediately." she announced shocking the teacher.

Her ever present smile faltered. "Alright, would the vice representative like to take the position?" She scanned each face, but no one stood up or spoke.

"There has not been a vice since my first month three years ago, Miss." The color drained from the teacher's face.

"Oh well, you will need to continue until we have an election next week." she smiled again.

"No." Her voice turned steely. She picked up three bursting folders and dropped them on the desk. "The white folder is student medical records, allergies, cumulative extracurriculars and birthdays. The orange folder holds field trip and fundraiser applications, guidelines for applications as well as locations each student is banned from listed under the student and the location's reason. The black folder has graded homework, tests, quizzes, papers, and projects you gave me to grade. As well as lesson plans and homework you had me assemble for you."

"But... but..." Miss Bustier stood shocked, gaping between Mari, to the folders, then the rest of the class.

"Like I said effective immediately." Marinette turned and was immediately stopped by a blonde.

"Mari, please reconsider." Adrien plodded blocking her from ascending.

"Pfft. And why should I fucking do that Agreste." she side stepped him and climbed the stairs.

Eyes stared at her, as if it was the first time seeing her. In a way it was, since she had no fucks left to give to those who would step all over her.

The girls wanted dresses. She gave fee rates, appointment times and estimated finishing date. Some took her up on her like Rose, Juleka, and Alix. Kagami and even Chloe started requesting commissions.

The same with banners and suits for the boys.

Sweets from the bakery, they placed their orders and paid like everyone else.

This helped her more than most would think. Her grades and attendance improved because she no longer dropped things at the drop of a hat.

Two weeks prior, Hawkmoth went silent, now almost a year later, Paris went back to normal. But she didn't. She became Paris' Ice Princess. She kept everyone at an arms length, her trust was hard to earn, her words cut like a knife and her eyes bore daggers. Yet as both Marinette and Ladybug she is the definition of calm, collected, and serenity. Something snapped a long time ago and no one knows how or what to fix.

"We are done." Sabine was exasperated again. "We got in contact with your biological father, and he is taking you in."

"Alright." She answered, knowing best to respond than to stay quiet.

Sabine began talking again but she only half listened, it was the same as every other night after all.

---

Bruce was done just done.

Apparently his very own system, which is in theory completely perfect, is anything but, because he just figured out, he has a daughter. An adoption agency apparently had him listed as the father of a child roughly 16 years ago, that he had completely no idea of. The mother apparently wanted to keep it secret and gave up the child not even listing herself which was odd. So, the adoption agency never made that information public. However, now he’s being called by said adoption agency and the parents of the girl who is apparently his daughter.

He thought Damian was the only one apparently not.

He is currently sitting in front of the Bat-Computer nursing one hell of an incoming headache, praying that none of his boys come down and see this.

He has a daughter that is older than Damian and knowing his son he will throw a fit over this. That his claim is the only blood child is literally going down the drain.

On top of that Bruce knows almost nothing about his daughter. Sure, he looked up her and her parents other than a few contests and school there was nothing on her. No social media, it was as if it was erased from the system. Her contacts seemed almost sparse for a girl her age, that being said he does not have a good reference for that.

The fact that not even his system was able to pick up on her says a lot more than you might think. When her parents came into contact with him, he thought it was a joke, but they held firm and even sent a DNA sample of their own daughter. He almost didn’t even cross test with his own, he was disgusted with how these people treated their child this way.

Yet here he is, he tested it and he was a biological match.

The parents are transferring her custody over to him, but he doesn’t even know this girl.

Life is never dull for the the greatest detective. Even when life seems to pull things out underneath him.

So, let’s just hope he can meet his daughter while ensuring that his sons not find out before he can get a grasp on the situation.

He continued to rub at his temples and the bridge of his nose trying to lessen the pain of this migraine which was sure enough going to set in. The only reason he’s getting gray hairs is because of his children.

Now to find out what the next one is like.

~~~~~~~~~~

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#mbdbwm2021 #mdcu marinette #mdcu bruce wayne #bio!dad bruce wayne #maribat class salt #maribat #dc x miraculous #dc x mlb #miraculous x dc #mlb x dc

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phantomrose96 · 4 years ago

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Hero Syndrome

There’s a young woman who has admired the Symbol of Peace for her entire life.

She doesn’t remember the first time she saw him on television. He’s just always been there as an eternal, unshakable constant – a comfort through every part of her life – promising to save anyone who needs him. And he does save her, even if he doesn’t know it. Because it’s his laughter, his smile, his ease and assurance speaking about rescues that keeps the flame burning in her heart when she had nothing else to cling to. He is the guiding light for her life that had no other purpose in it.

She is ignited with an all-consuming drive to follow in his footsteps. And it is a drive that defines her more than her own name.

She wants to save people with a smile. She wants to pull people from the depths of despair. She wants to stand at the top of the world and say “It’s alright now, because I am here.” if only so she can pay him back for all the comfort he’s given her in her life.

Posters of the Symbol of Peace find their way onto her walls, into her binders and desktop backgrounds. She joins no clubs so she can spend all her free time honing her quirk. She runs more, and lifts more, and trains more than anyone else. The future she imagines every day has her standing at his side, and it is a bright, bright future.

She doesn’t get into U.A.

As much as she prepared herself for it, the reality is crushing. She sobs into her bedspread when the rejection letter comes, and stops briefly to peel the posters off the walls first, so the Symbol of Peace cannot see her cry like this. Heroes shouldn’t cry. Heroes shouldn’t give up. She can’t either. Her 4th-choice school has sent her an acceptance letter, and she’ll make sure that’s still good enough. She vows to keep working harder than everyone at U.A. to make up for it.

She graduates from her hero course as valedictorian. She’s given a ten minute slot during graduation to present her speech, and the speech suddenly means nothing and everything to her when she learns her school managed to book the Symbol of Peace as the keynote speaker. The Symbol of Peace far upstages her, and she doesn’t even care. She’s spellbound all over, and savors the ghost of the tingle in her fingertips from the brief second they pass each other. He doesn’t know this, but the moments spent sharing the stage mean the entire world to her.

She takes another vow now, to share a stage with him again in the future, as a colleague. She vows to make this moment the starting line for the beginning of the rest of her life.

When she shows up to Slice’N’Dice’s hero agency on her first day as a debut sidekick, she’s met with a bare white-walled room of peeling paint. There’s a single sputtering fan in the corner pointed directly, and only, at Slice’N’Dice’s desk. She feels the sweat trickling down her neck already, the swampy humid air, the cicadas chirping behind her, as she stands there holding her hero uniform in a box.

“I’m very excited to be working with you,” she says with a full bow. Slice’N’Dice looks up from his desk, and grunts, and goes back to puffing on the loose cigarette hanging from his lips. He’s slumped in his chair, uniform loose-fitting around rather skeletal arms and ballooned around his distended waist. He’s unbuckled his belt, and pulls deeply from his cigarette, and tunes the dial on the crackling police scanner on his desk.

“You know how to make a pot of coffee?” he asks her.

On the third day of her sidekick career, they go on patrol. Her mom has washed and pressed her uniform for exactly this occasion. She feels hope bubbling in her stomach where a rock-like weight had sat before. She wonders what it’ll feel like to have eyes shift to her as she walks, what excited kids will tug on their parents’ sleeves and point, what it will really feel like to be on this side of the uniform.

Slice’N’Dice doesn’t take her to the streets of Tokyo. They meander through empty alleys and hot, putrid industrial backways. He stops at an outdoor storage unit, and unloops the keys from his unbuckled belt, and opens the unit. Inside are bikes. Dozens of them. Dented and rusted into disrepair. He pulls out two and walks them on either side of him, motioning her to do the same. She does.

“What are the bikes for?”

Slice’N’Dice grunts.

Ten minutes more of walking, and they are standing at the mouth of a neighborhood. The air carries the pungent scent of gasoline. Windows appear as broken glass and particle boards, nailed into place. The peeling paint along the apartment facades reminds her of the peeling paint in the office.

Slice’N’Dice props a bike against a lamppost. And he pulls a small metal lens from his pocket and affixes it to the post just above the bike. On his phone, he fiddles an app open, and she sees two green lights blink on the metal lens.

Slice’N’Dice moves on. He motions her to follow.

“Why are we leaving the bike?” she asks.

“Gonna catch some thieves.”

“With the bike?”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re leaving it here.”

Slice’N’Dice shrugs. “Yeah? Ain’t telling anyone to steal it. That’s their problem.”

“You want it to get stolen?”

“We gotta resolve some incidents if we wanna get paid.”

“Then, let’s resolve some incidents for real!” She thrusts a hand out, motioning, nearly tipping and just barely catching the bike at her left side. “Let’s patrol Tokyo and stop actual crime that’s happening.”

Slice’N’Dice barks a laugh. “We don’t have a zoning permit to patrol Tokyo, are you nuts? Maybe if the 2,000 Tokyo hero agencies all go belly-up, and the other 20,000 on the waiting list drop dead too, then maybe we could stake out Tokyo.”

She falters. “We shouldn’t be creating crime. We’re heroes, that’s just--”

“431.” Slice’N’Dice holds a hand up to her, and he draws his words out, like all the smoke from his cigarettes. “I got 431 applications for sidekicks. If you’re gonna leave, leave. I don’t really care. I’ll take any of the other ones. I don’t care.”

She freezes, sick with ice in her stomach.

“…And why’d you choose me?”

“Top of the pile.”

Slice’N’Dice shuffles along. She stands rooted in place. She’d been one of only three people from her graduating class to have a sidekick offer lined up right out of school.

It had been because she’d worked hard – harder than everyone else – to be a hero. Because she – more than anyone – had dreamed of this future.

Slice’N’Dice coughs wetly. He pauses to spit into the street, and keeps on shuffling.

…

There is a young man who’s admired the Symbol of Peace for his entire life.

He’s grown up half-raising himself, enraptured by the glow of the television with the Symbol of Peace’s shining smile. It is a smile that could move mountains, and his is a laugh that could shake oceans. The young man watched these interviews on repeat while his mother worked double-shifts through the night. Those interviews formed him, brought a flicker of hope into his small and hollow world, brought moments to his life where he did not mind the opportunistic roaches scuttling up the couch, nor the rattle of the leaking pipes overhead, nor the dense headiness of mold in the carpets. They showed him hope. They showed him a path forward.

The young man dreams every day of the life he’ll lead when he’s a hero as well. His mom won’t suffer anymore when he’s a hero. No kid will go to bed hungry when he’s a hero. He’ll smile like the Symbol of Peace smiles, and he’ll move the oceans and the mountains too.

The U.A. rejection doesn’t deter him. He knew it would be a rejection before he even received the envelope. Only 1 in 1,000 applicants get into U.A. anymore, and that number skews further out of his favor when considering the legacy admissions to U.A., and the recommended kids who’d been through expensive personal hero-training regimens, and the parents who could curry a bit more favor by offering to fund a new U.A. training ground.

The young man never stood a chance, and he knew it. He’s more motivated, if anything, by the rejection letter. He wants the chance to stand out as someone who can break the U.A.-to-Pro pipeline. He’ll start from lower, and he’ll rise above the rest, because it’s who he is at his core.

The rejection letters continue to roll in. His second, his third, his fourth choices – down to his fifteenth – all come in thin, thin envelopes, too thin to contain good news. This happens to a lot of people, he reads. The hero market is oversaturated, he knows. Caps on hero course enrollment are getting tighter, he understands. But to have every door shut on him almost shakes his hard-earned resolve.

His tenth-choice school informs him there is a General Studies slot open. They offer it to him, and he almost, almost takes it.

But the Symbol of Peace never gave up his dreams. So he won’t either.

The young man has a pamphlet on his desk for a for-profit hero school just 20 miles outside town. It boasts no enrollment cap, no admissions test, We believe everyone is capable of proving themselves through hard work! We do not let dreams die halfway! The only admission criteria is the price tag. It is steep, the kind of steep that his part-time jobs and meager savings could never cover.

There’s an old man running the backroom of the corner store who gives out loans. This man doesn’t ask for credit or credentials there. His loans are in cash, day-of, with few questions asked. The young man knows this because he works part-time at this corner store, and sees the steady stream of strung-out clients filtering in and out, wracking up debt, caught in a personal hell the young man vowed to never fall into himself. But these are the people he intends to help one day as a pro-hero. And sacrifice must become something he’s comfortable with if he ever hopes to live up to the Symbol of Peace.

During his next shift, the young man takes to the backroom, and lays out his terms while the old man breathes cigar smoke into his face, and he has the money in-hand before the end of the night.

He’ll likely have to pay it back two-fold – maybe three-fold -- in interest. The young man knows this, he is not dumb. But he also knows how lucrative the pro-hero business is for those at the top. The government payout for heroes is pittance, at best, but hero merch sales pay out in gold. The Symbol of Peace has been named among Japan’s top 100 wealthiest men for the last ten years.

He won’t tell his mother about the loan. He intends to pay the debt back before she ever finds out.

He enrolls. He pays the tuition fee. He’s given a class schedule, a uniform, a syllabus, a dormitory. He moves out, away from the roaches and the rats, and it is a dream. He sees the start of the rest of his life on the day that he and all his new classmates are welcomed to campus as up-and-coming heroes.

Two years pass when the for-profit hero school loses its accreditation.

He, and all other students, are informed in a single curt email from the administration. All staff are fired. All courses are canceled. All students have three days to vacate the dormitories. The school entity is dissolved, and there money is gone.

The world drops out from beneath his feet. He can’t take the provisional license exam without a hero institution behind him. He can’t apply to sidekick positions without a provisional license. He moves back home, and resumes his part-time job, and sends in ten applications a day to every hero course in the country that accepts transfer students. When all of them yield rejections, he focuses on applying to every internship listing he can find.

None of them want him. Not when the market is already oversaturated with applicants who have an actual hero school backing them.

Years pass around him in a blur. His every cent earned from the corner store job is immediately garnished to pay his debts that come due, and they hardly make a dent. The compounding interest builds as a rate that surpasses his pay. A lifetime of this work would never repay his debt.

The old man in the tattered wifebeater shirt calls him into the back room one day. The old man shows no malice in his sleepy eyes, but exudes a pressure the young man can only describe as blood-lust. He’s heard the man’s quirk is suffocation, and he prays that this is not the day he learns this first-hand.

“These numbers… are not trending in your favor,” the man says between long drags of the cigar in his hand.

“I know.”

“I’d like to know. How do you plan to pay me back for my generosity?”

“Hero work,” the young man answers, just as he did all those years back when he first negotiated for his loan. “I just need—”

“What hero agency is hiring these days?” the man asks. “So, so few, anymore. Hardly any, anymore.”

“I know.”

“I’m not optimistic for you, you know.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I just—” the young man jolts forward, pleading eyes boring into the old man. “I just need to catch one break! I just need one ‘yes’ to kick things off! I can handle everything after that. I just need your patience, until then, and then I’ll make good. I’ll make you whole.”

“I’m old,” the man says with another long drag of his cigar. “Old old old, and getting older. Money won’t be much good to me when I’m all too old and dead. We agreed on now… being when you paid me back what I gave you so kindly.”

“Please… I don’t have the money. But I’ll get it.”

“You will. You’ll earn it.” The man’s joints crack as he pushes to his feet, and hobbles into the cellar-dark back of the shop, and returns gripping a single weathered gun which he slides across to the young man. “Here. For your protection. You’re no good dead. Don’t try anything funny with it though, I’m faster than I look.”

The young man swallows. “…Why are you giving me a gun?”

“Because you’ll need it for the jobs I have for you.”

“Please… I have a job already. I work in this shop already.”

“I have many more jobs for you right now. You should be grateful. You’ve had so little luck with jobs. Take the gun.”

Hesitantly, reluctantly, the young man picks up the gun. It’s heavier than he expects. But just as cold as he imagined.

“I don’t want the gun…”

“You’ll need the gun.”

“I don’t…” he hesitates. “I don’t want to do your jobs. I don’t want to be a villain. I don’t—”

The old man wheezes out a laugh. Mirth cracks on his old face. “What even is a villain? Childish word.”

“The Symbol says—”

The young man’s breath freezes in his throat, and it is not of his own doing.

“Silence, now. You talk to much. Your mother talks too much too, about you. Shopping here, all the time, for you two. Chatter chatter chatter. I like to make people quiet. It’s good for my peace of mind.”

The young man exhales forcefully. His breath comes back in gasps. His world crushes in around him.

“Now, would you like to hear about the new jobs I have for you?” the old man asks.

The young man shuts his eyes tight, and he wills, prays, hopes for this to end. And nothing answers his prayers.

“…Yes, I’d like to hear about my new jobs,” the young villain answers.

…

There is a boy who has admired the Symbol of Peace his entire life.

He plays hero in the park with his two friends every day of elementary school, even through wind and rain and snow and scorching heat. Their games are squall rescues in the rain, and avalanche missions in the snow, and desert expeditions in the heat.

Those two friends are his only two friends. They go elsewhere for middle school, and he is left alone. And his every attempt to make new friends is squashed by the bullies that have found him to be such a deliciously easy target. He endures it, he accepts it, he channels all his hope and all his faith into the Symbol of Peace. The bullies’ words hurt less when he trawls through video playlists of interviews, and motivational speeches, and candid rescues. There is no hurt, and there is no danger, and there is no unfairness where the Symbol of Peace is involved. When the boy’s parents divorce, when his dog passes on, when his grandmother gets cancer, he watches the Symbol of Peace’s interviews on loop.

The boy stops bothering trying to make friends in middle school. The enormity of the task ahead of him is too much and too important for friends. He trains alone every day during recess instead, and after school, and into the night, and early in the morning. Every pull-up is another imaginary meter scaled in a mountain rescue. Every mile run with his weighted vest is a collapsed hiker carried out of the woods. Every deadlift is raising the roof from the victim of a hurricane. Every heat-exhausted quirk honing session is another life saved.

He’s sure to smile, every time, no matter what, because one day there will be real people he rescues who need to see that smile.

He is 12 when he buys a police scanner.

It’s not a real one. More like a repurposed ham radio, rigged up to the emergency response frequencies. He purchased the radio online from a man with the username radrigs89, and the purchase eats up most of the boy’s savings. He’s heartbroken when he finds the radio does not actually pick up signals.

But he doesn’t give up. Instead the boy pours all his free time into rigging it up properly himself. He needs this to work. Because he knows from the Symbol of Peace that a true hallmark of a top hero is having stories of bravery from their middle school days.

Three months after his purchase, he strikes gold.

The raspy speakers crackle out with police chatter. He sits enraptured in his room, idling away his Friday night listening for anything nearby. Anything he could get to on his bike. Any scene that would need his quirk. Most things that comes through are traffic infractions, or noise complaints, or incidents with heroes already at the scene. The boy decides to be patient. He’ll know in his gut when the right report comes through.

Just over a week later, at 10pm on a Saturday, there is a fire twelve blocks from his home.

He is on his bike from the moment the address is relayed over the radio.

The ride over is a blur. His fingers tingle. The building is an apartment complex. The police are at least fifteen minutes away by car. There are no heroes yet on the scene.

He takes the final left too hard and wipes out, bike skidding away horizontally beneath him. He bounces up to his feet and pays it little mind, because the air has spiked hot, because the red-orange light dances and reflects in his eyes, consuming the building, consuming his thoughts. It is like a heartbeat licking inside the windows, and it compels his body to move without his mind.

Residents are crowded in the street below, pajama-clad and chilled in the night air. And he spots her – a little girl, no older than five, gripping her mother’s nightgown and wailing. The little girl has practically gone limp, held up by her balled fists in her mother’s clothing, screaming “MY BUNNY! BUNNY! WE GOTTA GO GET BUNNY!! WE GOTTA SAVE BUNNY!!!”

“We’ll buy a brand new bunny after this, okay? I promise. Brand new bunny! We can get two bunnies who are friends, I promise. I promise.”

“NOIWANTBUNNY!!!!”

The boy races over, and he crouches to the girl’s level, and he smiles. “It’s okay now! I’m here! There’s no need to cry now. I can rescue your bunny. I have a quirk just right for this! Where’s your bunny?”

The little girl blinks through her tears. “My room.”

“What apartment?” the boy asks.

“No. Dear. No please, I promise we’ll get a new bunny!”

“2…. 2-J!” the girl answers.

“HEY WAIT!” the mother yells after him, but it is too late. The boy has turned heel and run. There’s fear in his heart, sure, but heroes fight through fear. There’s a voice in his head saying “turn back!” but he has to act without thinking if he wants to rise to the likes of the Symbol of Peace. The bunny. The bunny is a life worth protecting. The little girl’s smile is a smile worth protecting.

He bursts through the front door, and he curls his fingers to activate his quirk. A chill sweeps through the hallway, dragging the air from scalding to breathable. His internal temperature ticks up just a fraction.

The stairs, only one flight. He scales it, the white floral wallpaper glowing with am amber ambiance from the flames eating the scaffolding behind it. He rounds into the hallway where the heat claws into his throat once more. Another tensing of his fingers, another activation of his quirk, another gust of chilled air. He feels his brow grow hotter in recoil.

All doors have been flung open all along the hall, including the one marked with the 2-J plaque beside it. He wastes no time entering, and hesitates only a moment as the first bare sight of fire meets his eyes. The living room is consumed, the lemon couch scorched to half a skeletal frame, the television melted unrecognizable. Aerosolized plastics, wood, and fibers assault his throat, so hot he feels he is breathing in a solid mass. It reduces him to a fit of coughing, soot taking out his sight for the moment. His fist curls, a gust of cold air blasts through, and he is breathing again. Just a bit dizzier. His forehead burns independent of the flame.

Girl’s room. Little girl’s room.

It’s easy enough to find. Pink walls, a single twin bed with frills along the skirt, circular white rug plush and soft at the dead center of the room. It’s less hot in here, by a fraction. The fire hasn’t claimed it yet.

Cage. Bunny. Rabbit. Where?

He scans the length of the room in a second, and scans it again. He expects a cage at shelf-level, and when he sees none, he scans the floor for any sign of a pen. He steps over the threshold, growing more frantic.

“Bunny!” he calls out and feels foolish for wasting the breath.

Closet, maybe. He grabs the metal handle, and recoils when the heat bites him. He wads his hand in his shirt the second time around and yanks the door open. Clothes, hangers. He sweeps everything aside and stares at a floor of shoes. Sweat trickles down his neck in rivulets. Every article of clothing sticks to him. His mouth is drying.

He sweeps his hand out, tensed into a claw. Another swirl of cold air streams through the room. He feels it in his heart this time, a slight stutter, a hotness and redness along his cheeks. His internal temperature ticks up another fraction.

“Run,” the little voice in his head says. “You’ll over-exert your quirk. You know that’s dangerous. Run.”

But he can’t. Because heroes act without thinking.

There’s a creaking overhead. It starts low and slow, almost inaudible over the hum and crackle of the fire one room over. It crescendos to a groaning, and it steals the boy’s full attention right when it hits its breaking point.

The ceiling caves, just above the doorway. Lumber and drywall and embers pour down like sand. He dodges, just in time, throwing himself sprawling on the super-heated ground such that the collapsing rubble only claims his right ankle.

The floor is burning into him. He twists, staring at his foot, staring at the entrance to the room now blockaded with debris. The fire licks about the doorway, crawling with slow, opportunistic bursts.

His lungs hurt.

“…Freeze,” he wheezes out, fingers curling, another sweep of bitter cold air bursting through the room. The momentary relief is welcome, but the lingering swell of heat in his cheeks negates it. He sees the flames stutter, and hesitate, and crawl forward again.

“Freeze!” again. A blow of icy air. A buffeting of the flames. A scorch to his cheeks heating with the quirk recoil.

He yanks on his ankle, and the lumber pinning it shifts a fraction.

“Freeze!”

He looks forward, chin pressed to the carpet. He sees it now, one floppy ear peeking out beneath the bed skirt. The fraction of space between the skirt and the floor reveals a plush face in shadow, and he sees two beady glass eyes dancing with the reflection of flames.

He’s licked with a moment of nostalgia, for the days spent playing hero with his friends. Stuffed animals had played their rescue victims so many times before. The stuffed bunny is a welcome sight, almost, it fits right into the fantasy he’d spent so many years constructing.

The other pieces don’t fit. The air licks so, so much hotter than the pretend arson rescues. The smoke is so much more choking than the fantasies in his head. Even the heat training, with the heaviest vest weights, in the peak of summer, couldn’t compare.

The Symbol of Peace never seemed bothered, even in the worst of his rescues. The Symbol of Peace never failed. Somehow, the boy had never considered failure as a possibility. Heroes just needed the courage to act, and the rest followed.

“...Freeze.”

His fingers curl. The flames reel back like a scolded animal, but linger, curious, experimental, as if testing his resolve. His face is burning up. He can’t tell how high his fever has spiked, but it’s high enough to make him drowsy. His eyelids flicker, and flutter, and it would be so much easier to let them shut.

The flames catch him dozing off, as they crawl forward with courage.

Before his eyes shut, he remembers one important thing. He smiles at the bunny.

Its wide glass eyes reflect his smile back. And even when the boy’s eyes flutter shut, the bunny’s remain open, unblinking, unseeing, dancing in the flames.

…

The Symbol of Peace mounts the stage with slow, commanding steps. The crowd that’s gathered tips into the tens of thousands, and that is not even counting those redirected to the overflow area. The people right near the front of the stage have been camping in their spots for over a day.

The applause that meets him is uproarious. He raises a gloved hand to ask for quiet, and is met only with a crescendo of hollers. They settle, eventually, as he takes his position by the podium, as he sets one white-gloved hand to the stand, and raises the microphone to his mouth with the other. The audience hushes steadily, enraptured, eager for him to speak.

“I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out here today,” he says, and he says it with a voice that can shake oceans, and delivers it with a smile that can move mountains. “This day means a lot to me, more than I can put into words, to be so honored by all of you.” He taps the medal affixed to his chest. “To be receiving the highest honor I could have ever imagined receiving. The Lifetime Achievement in Heroics…”

Applause, stronger and more raucous than the first round, meet his ears. He lets it ring this time, while tears prick at the corner of his eyes.

“I would not be here without you! I would not be anywhere near this podium without the love and patience and inspiration from all the people who believed it me when I needed it the most. I would not be 15,000 rescues into my career, and I would not be the second person to ever receive this award, if I had been traveling this path alone.”

Hoots. Hollers. Screams of “WELOVEYOU!”

“And it’s actually that first recipient of the Lifetime Achievement award who I want to talk about today, with you all. Because this day is special to me for an entirely other reason. Today marks the anniversary of the day that man – that first recipient – All Might – told me the words that set me on the path to where I stand today.” The Symbol of Peace steps away from the podium, microphone still in hand, and moves to the very front of the stage. “ ‘You can be a hero, too.’ Those words. That single sentence. Changed my life forever. I would not be here. I would not be ‘Deku’. I would not be the Symbol of Peace without them.”

He pauses for another chorus of cheers, screams and applause and celebration. His smile spreads wide, his soft freckled cheeks dimpled and scrunched high, his messy hair falling over his forehead, and it is a look that has captured an entire nation’s heart.

“So I want to take this time I have in front of you all to return the favor All Might gave me all those years ago. This is for everyone who needs to hear these words! For everyone who needs someone who believes in them! For everyone looking to do right in the world. This goes out to you!” And he lifts his microphone up high. “YOU can be a hero too!”

The audience erupts unlike anything before. Their sounds consume the very air. Together, they drown out all other noise as Deku, the Symbol of Peace, clenches his fist high in the air.

Across the nation, children are watching the television broadcast. They are enraptured. They are bright-eyed. They are making plans for what they will say on stage once they stand beside him.

Once they are all heroes too.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha fanfiction #on todays installment of: a meta point about the bnha world that could have been a 200 word text post becomes a 5000 word fic instead #anyway i had a bad idea and this is it #Hero Syndrome #the following tags contain mild spoilers but im tagging them for blacklist purposes #please dont read the tags further if you wanna not read spoilers #character death #(non canon character)#fire #ask to tag

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 3 years ago

Text

Outlanders: How Jinjer survived a revolution and built their own world

Jinjer’s resilient spirit was forged in the civil war that erupted their native Ukraine in 2014. As the groove metal quartet prepare to unleash their fourth and most complex album to date, singer Tatiana Shmayluk relives the turmoil that shaped them. Cue: one of modern music’s most remarkable tales of survival, resistance and sheer determination…

It was when the first fighter jet flew overhead that Tatiana Shmayluk realised she had to run.

For the past few months, the mood in Ukraine had been growing increasingly tense. As a former USSR state, in spring 2014 the country had only had independence from Russia since 1991. Many citizens had wanted then-President Viktor Yanukovych to sign an agreement aligning the country closer with the European Union in November 2013. Plenty of others wanted to stay close to Russia. Protests began across the country. Then violence. Then Yanukovych was ousted from office in February 2014. Then more violence.

“There was a revolution,” says Tatiana. “There were huge riots in the main square of Kiev. In the end, our president, his ass was kicked out and he left the country. That was crazy. And then everything turned into chaos. And that’s when people really started hating each other.”

That April, following a highly suspect vote on whether to stay or go which resulted in a widely disputed declaration of autonomy for the region around Tatiana’s home-city of Donetsk in the east of the country, on the border with Russia, armed conflict commenced, involving Russian troops, tanks and air power. So began what Tatiana calls “a civil war – Ukrainians attacking Ukrainians”, with those loyal to their former Soviet masters on one side, and those wanting to break free, and have independence and closer ties with the EU on the other.

You may remember news footage of protesters banging dustbin lids at lines of soldiers and riot police. The politics of the situation are obviously layered and complex, but the simple version is: imagine a turbo version of Brexit that actually tore the country in two and resulted in one region declaring an independence that’s somewhat disputed by most of the world that isn’t Russia. And with a lot more violence. And a conflict that’s still piling up bodies now.

Tatiana was having a barbecue when she realised what was about to happen. “We were at a picnic, not far away from my building where I lived,” she says today from her flat in the Ukrainian capital, Kiev. “We were just chilling on the grass, eating food and stuff. And we heard this loud sound in the sky – we looked up and saw a jet. And that was that. We just grabbed our stuff and ran home, and we started figuring out how to leave before it was too late.”

Had Tatiana and her friends – including other members of her band, Jinjer – waited much longer than they did, their passage to Lviv some 1,300 kilometres to the west, where bassist Eugene Abdukhanov and his wife were already living, might have been much more hazardous. Even as they “packed all our shit into a van” and made a break for it, the country was starting to change shape around them.

“Already there were borders built being built around our region,” she says. “And I remember when we were crossing it, we were met by a guy, a soldier with a weapon. And then we heard [machine gun fire] somewhere very close to us.”

As she describes this, Tatiana makes an almost amusing machine gun noise, but she is painfully aware that even seven years on, the situation remains a serious one. “There’s no way out for this problem,” she says, “No solution. And that’s really, really sad.” If one needed an example of the lasting effects here, her parents have remained behind in what she calls, with almost mundane succinctness, “the war zone”.

“There’s an actual border between Ukraine and the former parts of the country, and it’s all blocked. And due to the pandemic, they have no chance to cross borders,” she explains. “They cannot receive money from the government, their pensions. I always tell my mom, ‘Hey, mom, just try once to do this, make really big effort and cross this border, even [if you have to go] through Russia. Just come here and stay here. I can help you in any way possible.’ But she is old school. And when you have been living on this earth for over 60 years, it’s really hard to change your way of living.”

But that’s what Tatiana and Jinjer have had to do. And growing from such trying circumstances has only made them more rigid in their resolve. Because literally having to run for your life will have an effect on a person. “Growing balls, maintaining your balls,” is how she puts it.

“Of course, it makes you stronger,” she says. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

Today, Tatiana has lived in Kiev for more than five years. As Jinjer’s singer, she is one of the rising stars of European metal, and made her living visiting countries as far-flung as Argentina, Australia and Japan to play her band’s music. Next week, the band release their fourth album, Wallflowers, a furious, razor-sharp work of metal that will delight fans of Cradle Of Filth and Conjurer alike, and will add nicely to streams that, in total, already sit at over 100 million.

Though she says that she’s only been recognised around town a handful of times, and that she probably gets noticed more for the tattoos that cover her arms and neck (“Old women who were born in the Soviet Union really reject people with tattoos,” she says. “They look at you like you’re a prisoner, or a prostitute…”) than for her music, at 34 life for Tatiana is very different to what she knew growing up. As a kid in the early ’90s, after the collapse of the USSR, her family were, she says, “average”, but there were clues that the Shmayluk family were not one of society’s ‘haves’.

“I remember that we couldn’t afford meat,” she recalls. “After the Cold War ended we got a lot of American food, like veggie burgers. It looked like oatmeal with brown [fake] chicken that you make into patties, and then you fry them. You eat them as kind of meat, but it’s not. It’s just some shit, like some very plastic stuff. I realised how poor we were. And I was crying, ‘Mom, I just want some meat. I don’t want to eat this.’”

Elsewhere, though, Tatiana remembers her childhood as being “great”, a time she looks back on with fondness. “We didn’t have internet and stuff, so we just played outside all day long. And school was awesome.” The food imports post-Cold War might not have been the most brilliant thing she had ever seen, but the new order also brought with it more western culture. MTV introduced six-year-old Tatiana to hip-hop (“I’d practice dancing like MC Hammer”), but via going through her brother’s room and raiding his tape collection – often bootlegs – she also got turned on to Nirvana, Metallica and The Offspring.

“We had this family tradition that every evening we had supper together around the same table,” she remembers. “When I discovered The Offspring, I put Smash on my huge headphones. I was sitting in a chair, eating, and I wasn’t talking to anyone from my family, just listening to music. And then when I finished, I just sat back and just enjoyed the music, doing nothing.”

Her ability to both lose and find herself in music turned into doing something more significant at high school when, after years spent doodling herself playing guitar in a band with other girls in a sketchbook, Tatiana performed her first gig as part of a talent contest, doing covers of songs by Limp Bizkit and German metallers Guano Apes (“No-one voted for us,” she laughs). Her first gig as an audience member, meanwhile, came a few years later, when Soulfly played in Kiev. Despite the fact she didn’t actually get to see Max Cavalera and his band onstage, it was an experience in itself.

“I traveled from Donetsk to Kiev, like, 700 – 800 kilometres,” she says. “My parents were very protective, they didn’t want me going anywhere on road trips or anything, and they didn’t give me any money to spend. I only got to watch maybe 30 minutes of the show, because my boyfriend got drunk and started a fight with someone. Security grabbed him and threw him out of the club. It was quite a shitty day!”

In 2010, aged 23, having completed language studies at university, and working briefly at a dating agency, Tatiana joined Jinjer. Two years later, they self-released their debut EP, Inhale, Don’t Breathe. A year after that, they played outside Ukraine for the first time, in neighbouring Romania. “That gave us a push to move forward, because we really liked it,” she says. “And although we didn’t bring any money back – we didn’t earn anything – we realised that we want to do this, and we’re going to overcome any obstacle that is waiting for us.”

Eight months later, this would be put to the test by fleeing the war. Having moved to Lviv, Jinjer – Tatiana, Eugene, guitarist Roman Ibramkhalilov and then-drummer Yevhen Mantulin – then all moved into what the singer describes as “a summer house” just outside the city. Soon, the band became a full-time concern. They still had nothing, but it was a more fun nothing.

“We were all just hoping for the best, touring just with money that we had, earning nothing, like one euro,” she says. “Sometimes we didn’t have anything to eat, basically, because we were broke, because everyone had just quit their jobs. We just had some coins to buy a beer. That was intense. But I remember those years only with a warm heart. That was fun. That was a really huge challenge for just people who had never done that before, but we happened to overcome all this shit because we stayed together.”

But as touring became a more regular thing and things for Jinjer seemed to be on the up and up, the band once again found themselves faced with bad luck that most will, mercifully, never know. On tour in 2014, they had a long drive to Russia for the next run of shows. Stopping at a friend’s house in Kiev for the night, Tatiana took a taxi back to her own place, leaving everyone else to continue partying and drinking. At 4am, she got a phone call about Yevhen.

“They said, ‘You have to come here because he’s broken his spine,’” she recalls. “He fell out of the window. Everyone [had gone] to sleep, and he stayed there in the kitchen, sitting on the window frame, smoking. And then he fell asleep, and fell from the third floor. They heard someone screaming in the middle of the night, but they didn’t realise – they thought that it was maybe a dog or something. And then someone checked the kitchen and he was not there. Then they looked down and saw him just lying there.”

By some miracle, he survived, though he no longer has use of his legs. Tatiana says she and his bandmates were “in shock for many years”, and that, “I remember we were all around him, toured with him, just hanging out, and then he’s just like… bam.” But even this incident, which left him in a wheelchair and unable to return to the band, is talked about in the same spirited, fighty way that Tatiana talks about every challenge.

“He seems very positive,” she says. “He’s doing music and he tours around Russia with a band. It’s kind of a hip-hop band, and he plays guitar. He’s still doing tours, so that’s awesome.”

Should you ask Tatiana to describe to you the Ukrainian national character, she’ll tell you that they are “stubborn”, and that as a whole they feel “we have nothing to lose”. She’ll also tell you that, “Ukrainians are very passionate people. Not like Italians [are passionate], for example, or Spanish people. We are passionate with a straight face, you know, not smiling – more like Russians.” When it comes to danger, meanwhile, she says that “we take risks easily”.

Surprisingly, despite the above description matching the impression you get of Tatiana from her story, she doesn’t think of herself as “a typical Ukrainian”. She does, though, nod in confirmation when asked if she sees playing music as a form of resistance. Before any of the bigger events and challenges, this spirited defiance started with becoming a musician at all, at home.

“The first time I resisted something that really prevented me from doing what I love was my parents,” she says. “Mostly my mom, who didn’t want to see me as a musician. In Ukraine, it’s kind of a big thing. If you’re a musician, it’s not respected. From 17 to 23, I was protesting [her], silently. I didn’t, like, yell at her; I didn’t fight with her. I just said, ‘Yeah, yeah,’ and I did my own thing. That’s when it started, and it’s still going this way.”

An example: on Wallflowers, there’s a song, Disclosure, in which Tatiana vents about treatment at the hands of certain media outlets in her homeland. Even being used to internet haters, giving the band shit for everything from daring to escape a warzone, to daring to have a female member, to daring to become successful, the experience left her boiling.

“Earlier this year, in March, me and Eugene went to some studio to do an interview with a Ukrainian guy who is a YouTuber, and he used to work on Ukrainian TV channels,” she says. “So there was a tense atmosphere, and very angry vibrations between us. And he was so manipulative. We had differences in our political views and stuff, and he didn’t want to accept that. So he really wanted to show us in a very bad, bad way. I was pissed off for three days after that, and wrote the song about it.”

As people with a profile, do you think you’re a target for that sort of thing?

“We absolutely are targets for those people, for haters,” Tatiana says. “They hate us for different reasons: for me being a woman, you know. And people think that we pay for [success], like with our money – some of them think that we are hugely rich. My mom is a bookkeeper! My dad worked in coal mining, he was a worker, just working class. But no-one cares. They always find something to blame us for. But at least they don’t do us any harm. Only with words and comments. It’s distant. They’re poison, but it goes nowhere.”

Tatiana Shmayluk is a self-evidently tough woman. She’s also extremely nice. Equally, she’s extremely modest. When she talks about her life’s trials and triumphs, survival and successes, she does so in a manner that almost shrugs these things off, that possibly anyone could do them. Possibly, if pushed by the sight of a war literally kicking off while you have a barbecue, we could. But it’s still surprising that, for someone with more real things to get angry about than most, she describes what she’s putting into Wallflower as simply “my whining and insecurities”.

“Every album, I find something to be angry about,” she says. “It’s pessimistic, but it’s nothing to do with the pandemic. The pandemic gave me some time to just sit and think about, different stuff that I’ve been going through. And we have to agree that the whole world isn’t getting any better – I put myself into this kind of state of mind that, ‘Okay, it’s almost the end of the world.’ Maybe the next album will be more optimistic and more positive. Maybe…”

Pessimism or not, none of it makes her story of prevailing against the things she has any less stirring. Never mind the fact that the band she fronts come from a country most tours don’t even stop at. She’s – rightfully – proud of Jinjer’s success, and the work ethic it’s taken to get them where they are, but she’s almost at pains to share the glory with her bandmates. And in part, it’s this that’s carried Jinjer through all this the most. It’s this, she says, that’s helped her both survive, and to thrive.

“I would never do this myself. I wouldn’t be able to work on so many obstacles just by myself,” Tatiana admits. “And if I had some type of my own personal career, just a single singer, I wouldn’t even start doing that. I really need those guys. And the guys, I hope they need me. That’s just how it works: all together. Even having nothing in our pockets and empty stomachs, we could work.

“It just depends on how big your dream is.”

#tatiana shmaylyuk #jinjer #2021 interviews

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caandlelit · 3 years ago

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Tokoyami takes full advantage of the darker parts of his quirk when he threatens you. You feel trapped in an eternal darkness, like the air was being stolen out of your lungs. He speaks simply, but full of venom. He's shrouded by this aura of calm vexation. He feels toxic to even be around and his apparent apathy makes it more scary. He feels no guilt when he's reached that point. He's one of the slowest to get angry, and when he does, there's no stopping him. You'd never been scared of the dark until that day.

Momo says how she can buy everything you own. How she could take everything that gives you happiness until you're a shell of what you once were. How she has connections, and could ruin your life with a simple phone call. She radiates pure, controlled rage and you want to get away as fast as possible. You feel as if you're going to die at any moment and from that day forward you'll always look over your shoulder, too scared to sleep.

Uraraka is right next to Shoto in scary, and beside Izuku in surprising. She threatens in smiles. Her usual cheery attitude and excitement don't fade as she happily tells you how she'll make your life a living hell. She laughs as she says how she'll make you watch everyone you care about die before you, knowing you could have avoided it. She doesn't raise her hand, but she leaves you trembling and wetting your pants. You'll have nightmares. Sounds like Toga? It's because they're girlfriends.

Shoto is incredibly blunt with his threats. He somehow corners you alone, and calmly tells you how he could kill you, make it look like an accident, get rid of the body, and get away with it. In excruciating detail. He'll leave you sacred for your life, and regretting the day you got on his bad side.

Tsu will stare into the depths or your soul, daring you to piss her off. Being incredibly blunt, she will, just to make sure you get the message, just walk up to you and threaten to slit your throat or something.

Izuku has, after the first year, gotten into the habit of outright threatening pro heroes. It's blackmail more times than not, he has the info to ruin them. It started with Endeavor, then slowly All Might, after he got sick of beings pushed too hard, and extended until all pro heroes that weren't Aizawa, Present Mic, or Fatgum were doing his bidding.

Tenya regularly subtly threatens to call Japanese CPS on Endeavor to knock him down some rankings on the hero list. Nothing he can be charged with, and nothing that anyone out of 1A can trace back to him, but threats to keep him in-line. Have to make him know his place every now and then.

Izuku and Shoto would be the heroes parents want their kids to look up to. Momo and Mina would be the heroes parents want their female kids to look up to, specifically.

You know how 1A all want to be like All Might (mostly)? When they find out what being a 'Symbol Of Peace' really entails, I don't think they'd want to be on anymore. So they'd become beacons of hope, with Izuku shining the brightest out of all of them.

I know they don't technically have to live together if they're all part of one big hero agency. But like. It would be so fun if they did. And with the local rich kids (Momo, Tenya and Shoto), God knows it's gonna be some big-ass mansion. And it'd be sort of a throwback of sorts to the dorms. And I feel as if they'd the be glad for that familiarity, with how much change is occurring. And also, Bakugo and Monoma under the same roof would be fucking hilarious.

I want to see Shoto deck a fellow UA student for saying the wrong thing. Like maybe they'd say "Bakugo acts like a such a villain, no wonder everyone is scared of him." And Shoto would just look around to see Ochaco holding Izuku back with identical looks of rage on their faces. He'd see Bakugo looking down at his feet, trying his best to look unbothered, but his frown is more sad than his usual one. He'd see the Bakusquad trying to convince him it's not true. He'd see Tsu with her fist clenched, and Tenya glaring daggers at the person, and just deck the guy. Incases his fist in ice, to make the blow harder. Kick him a few times too. And would look up at their shocked faces and shrug, "No one fucks with my family. And Bakugo? He's family. All of you are." Deku just starts bawling there and then.

There's no UA traitor, and they just forgot to remove Touya from the family group chat.

After Monoma realizes that no one stops Bakugo from coming after him when he says dumb shit, learns to control his mouth by their first year of working/living together. Interviewers would ask him, "How do you manage with number 2 (tied with Shoto) pro hero DynaMite trying to 'kill you the time?" And Monoma would just answer, with deep tiredness in his voice "Speed, self control, and not sleeping."

HC that Uraraka's quirk isn't zero gravity. It's gravity manipulation, so zero gravity is just a subsection of that. Her quirk exceeds the rules of zero gravity, and it's plausible that because she didn't have much money growing up, she wasn't able to get it properly tested, which should have been free, but we've established hero society is fucked up. This means, essentially, that she should be able to create a black hole. It'd take a lot of training, and a crap ton of effort, and she'd never do it, but she could.

The heroes should be glad 1A (Shinsou and Izuku especially) are good people. Because they could ruin them. They could take down hero society by themselves, and they all have been given reason too! They're just good people, and the heroes should appreciate that. Because the moment they stop being good people? It's all over.

HC that Aoyama is one of those kids that has known he was gay since birth, and never had to come out because people just knew.

Just realized something, feeling sad so you must too. Shigaraki could have been Touya's Izuku in another world. In a less fucked up universe, they could've been friends. Shigaraki- Tenko could have saved him.

Monoma is trying to start an enemies to lovers with all of 1A, Shinsou included. He obviously knows nothing about social interactions, maybe the poor boy is just trying to flirt the only way he knows how: being a prick.

In the Combined Hero Agency, fans and other heroes wonder how Mei keeps up. She's the only support hero, makes (though her interns help) and designs hero costumes AND support items for everyone in the agency, while also making them for her interns when asked, AND has time to participate in family game night every other week.

She really has no secret, just a love for what she does, hard work, dedication plus a lot of time and patience. That doesn't mean she doesn't endorse the rumors she has some secondary quirk or something, she actually enjoys fuelling the fire and watching it unfold. Fucking with the media is her favorite pastime.

At some point, Class 1A convinced Shinsou to make Endeavor to say "I'm a giant piece of shit" live on TV. And that was only after they swore up and down that he wouldn't be kicked out of the hero course, and promised to take the fall if anything goes wrong. The worst thing that happened was All Might trying to say what he did was wrong but he was told to fuck off.

The boys in class 1A like lending their jackets/sweaters/hoodies/jumpers to the girls. And the girls don't return them a lot, and only Mei, who feels bad if she keeps them, returns them, surprising the boys. You leave yours in the common room, don't expect it to be there in 30 minutes. And it didn't stop there. The boys also take each others' cover-ups (Shoto started this by asking to borrow Tokoyami's), and take the girls'. They find them comfortable and soft, and they nice-smelling. Basically everyone's wardrobes (private stuff is kept separately) is up for grabs by second year.

1A and (most of) 1B (+ Mei) are just like so, physical affectionate with each other. So much that even when they're pro heroes, the media isn't sure which relationships are which. Even when they clarify, they don't do anything to stop the rumors and even revel in it, fuelling them from time to time. Like, Ochaco would show up to an interview wearing Izuku's gloves, and the next she'll be in Tokoyami's sweater. Not to mention that her and Tsu are dating a (former) VILLAIN.

What if Momo like, buys a house. But not just a house. Like when they're still UA students, she buy a house for all her friends that don't want to go home over the holidays/weekends. It's (surprisingly) a lot of them.

Katsuki because he doesn't want to get yelled at after almost dying a crap ton. Denki because his parents will be mad about his grades, and he's trying, but it's so hard, and he can't focus. Ashido because she gets made fun of back home for her looks. Shoto because Enji. Tenya because he wants some time away from the pressure of his family to "live up to the Ingenium name", and don't get him wrong, he wants to be the new Ingenium, but he also when he just wants to be Tenya for a bit. Ochaco because she's tired, and wants a break. She loves her parents, but it's so much stress. Tsu because she'd rather be with her friends. Shinsou because he doesn't have a home. And much, much, more.

I think Dabi would've turned out more like Shoto if he had an Izuku. They were incredibly similar, in mentality and around the same backgrounds. The main difference is that Shoto has people to support him now, Dabi didn't. If Dabi had someone like Izuku to help him, help break down his walls, to make him feel validated, and seen (which, as I stan Shiggy and Izuku being siblings because AFO, could have been Tenko in a different world) he wouldn't be a villain.

Kids that are worried that they'd lose their friends when they become heroes would be So happy too. Like "I want to become a hero, but what if my friends and I lose touch? I don't wanna leave them behind, even if we're pros!" While they'd just be there like "we've been with each other since high school bro. they don't have to go nowhere lol"

HC that their fans would start to believe God is a woman, because Momo.

And like, they would be regular visitors at schools and orphanages. None of them ever got to be kids, and very few of them had good experiences with school, so they would want to inspire more kids. That they can become heroes, too. They'd definitely keep all the gifts they got, plus Momo and Izuku seem like the type to pin up every drawing they get from their kid fans in their offices, no matter how good/bad. It'd be good morale, and the kids of the next generation of heroes would have perfect role models to look up to.

It'd be cute if 1A didn't go on to start their own hero agencies. I mean, they'd have to figure something out with Tenya and Shoto, but I feel as if they would go on to make one, big hero agency instead. They have the perfect selection of quirks and personalities, from rescue heroes to support ones! With a bit of help from their friends, of course. (Yes, Mei is included. I love her too much not too)

Sero and Denki seem like the type to get (platonically) married, though Sero is aroace (personal HC) and Denki is dating Shinsou. No one even blinks an eye anymore, too used to their BS.

I HC that Shoto was previously very closed off with his siblings, even after he was allowed to spend time with them. I want to see, after spending time with 1A, him open up. Slight things at first, like offering to go for a run with Natsuo, or giving Fuyumi a kiss on the cheek, to going to amusement parks with Natsuo, and talking about his day and friends with Fuyumi. They not sure what caused this change at first. But then they meet Izuku, and the rest of the IzuCrew, and 1A, and suddenly it all makes sense, and God do they love these kids.

I want to see 1A actively antagonize Endeavor, but only when there's no one that would tell around. Like, anything they can get away with legally, and somethings they can't, but they make sure to not get caught. Natsuo loves it.

I have this HC that around the middle of the year, 1A just gave up on sleeping separately, or the "everyone sleep in your room" rule. After the horrific bullshit they'd been through together, they figured out that sleeping in the same room as each other helped the (inevitable) night terrors that came. And setting a time that everyone should be in their rooms was disastrous. So now it's common to see Shoto or Izuku in Tenya's room, or Mina and Kirishima in Bakugo's, or some nights they all just sleep in whoever has the most space at the time.

I want to see 1A when they're in 2A move into the dorms again. Like, Enji would go "Shoto I don't want you in the dorms this year." And Shoto, who's been waiting to go back since the dorms closed and has already packed all his shit goes ". . . You've gotta be shitting me, old man. I'm gonna go see my friends, who I value more than you. Fuck you." Then freeze him, grab his bags and run to the spot where the rest of the class agreed to meet, to get food then got to the dorms.

Shoto is constantly being used as the class portable heater, and has learnt to accept it, not without making the occasional "I went through years of abuse and trauma for this" comment though

Hatsume and Izuku should be friends. I feel like they'd understand each other. The others try, but they're the only ones who can keep up with how fast each other's brains go.

I want to see 1A visit Rei in the hospital. It started as Shoto introducing his friends to his mom, but they grew fond of her, and now visit her regularly to talk, and update her on what's going on with like Shoto, or school

Imagine if there was no UA traitor, and they just forgot to remove Touya from the family group chat.

Rei should be introduced to Izuku as "my best friend", Tenya as "the friend who stops me from doing bad things", and Kastuki as "my other best friend, though he denies it". Shoto with his lack of social skills would just go "Oh Bakugo? We're friends. He's like that with everyone."

Rei doesn't need to know about the murder, what she doesn't know can't hurt her. And whenever Shoto tries to mention it to her, Tenya just slaps his hand on his mouth to shut him up, or nudges him aggressively until he (after a long time) gets the message .

After a while, when Izuku is asked what hero he wants to be like, he responds All Might. Why wouldn't he? All Might is bold, courageous, strong, and always saves people with a smile. The perfect hero.

But in his mind, he only has one true answer. Eraserhead. Mr. Aizawa is the perfect hero, maybe not to the public, but to his problem children. He's always there for them, and hasn't failed them like a lot of heroes and the society at large has.

Aizawa-sensei is the epitome of everything they strive to be, and though they'll always give different answers: All Might, Hawks, Powerloader, Cementoss, Lunch Rush, there'll always be one true answer. Something only they know. Mr. Aizawa is the ideal hero.

Dark Shadow uses they/them or it/its pronouns. Just makes sense, considering Dark Shadow isn't human, and likely doesn't conform to the same rules of gender we do

Considering Shoto (canonically) trauma dumps to make best friends (Izuku and Katsuki), it's only a matter of time until he does the same for Tenya. Especially after the Stain arc. And I feel like it'd just SHATTER his world view of heroes and hero society. He sees it through even more rose-tinted glasses than Izuku, so the realization that someone wildly viewed as a hero could so such things and get away with it would be totally new to him. Especially because the only experience he had was with Tensei, who is the ideal hero.

Back on my 1A and 1B hero agency bullshit, all their interns love them. They're always so kind to their interns and treat them really well, despite how they normally are or treat their fellow heroes. They remember what it felt like during their own internships, being scared and on their toes. They don't want their interns to feel like that around them.

In their shared agency, Kota and Eri intern there of course, but so do a bunch of other hero students. Some from Gen Ed too, anyone they feel like have potential, application or not.

The Combined Hero Agency (I don't have a name yet) most definitely teach their interns quirkless self defense, for all the times their quirks have failed them or made things more difficult. Hand to hand and using a variety of weapons.

1A is used to Mei and Izuku (Sometimes Tenya tags along. Very rarely, Denki) meeting up to talk costumes and mad genius shit, with Izuku's quirk analysis and Mei's skill in building, 1A would have the best costumes.

these are all so extensive and thought out .......... i love this anon uve put work into these they're so excellent .......... i love 1a family dynamics :( godddd i love them theyre lovely i love this AHHHHH MAN

#long post #anon #ask #bnha #1a

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kuuderekweenfics · 4 years ago

Text

Dabi is Not a Liar

Hello everyone,

This is it. I’ve fallen off the precipice of...what exactly? Sanity? Or, perhaps, lack of shame? Who knows. But this was a fun little piece I wrote about a month ago. I put it up on AO3, but I thought I’d create a Tumblr for future fics since this is a bit more social.

Please keep in mind that I am shaking the dust off my writing and so it may not be the most polished piece of work. Go easy on me. But I hope you enjoy it regardless!

Explicit Warning: non consent or extremely dubious consent.

Fingernails carve into the the filthy brick of the abandoned building nestled by the sea. The pier moaned, it’s cold breath wrapping around your body and reeking sourly of fish and decay.

Your head hangs low between your hollow arms. How you got yourself into this position is due to several reasons, of course. One, your brain is swollen twofold in your skull, pounding with the weight of lead. Two, shame caresses every part of your body far more thoroughly than the man who currently has you trapped between him and the wall. Three, and most likely the most crucial reason, Dabi, ‘the Cremator’ as he was so often called, has been railing you senseless for the past hour.

You cried yourself dry after about ten minutes. He came quickly the first time, unabashedly getting off on your whimpers and pleas. Where he dug up the stamina to keep his cock hard for another three rounds was a dull ache for your mind, and pussy, to ponder over.

The strength in your knees escaped long ago. His fingers gripping your bare ass as he currently pounds himself into you, deeper and deeper each time, is the only support you have against gravity.

He attempts some foreplay occasionally, killing the space between the two of you as he whispers into your ear threats of what is to come and reaches under you to thrash at your clit rough and carelessly. This is, you figured out, more to his benefit than yours; he had to get you more motivated to continue the little game he set for the both of you somehow. You mewl softly when he does, cursing your needy body for betraying your wants.

Because this isn’t what you want. No, no, no. Not even if his thick, veiny cock fills you to the brim and sometimes hits a spot in your core that makes you see stars and silently beg, much to your humiliation, for more.

What you want is to go pro. You just started working for a small agency start up only a week ago. You’ve dedicated to becoming a top ten hero, even if your quirk isn’t the most convenient. But if a guy who’s power was to do laundry could make it to the top, so can you and your absurdly comical gacha quirk. You are able to generate capsules from your hands, ranging anywhere between the size of a tennis ball to a beach ball, but the contents inside are always random. This little inconvenience made your quirk almost entirely useless. Despite it all, you trained hard and got a once in a lifetime opportunity at this agency. Your task today was to survey the pier for any suspicious activity called in by a concerned citizen. You were strictly told not to engage and call for back up as soon as you surveyed something worthwhile. But you immediately ran in, all too confident in your ability at hand-to-hand combat, as if you had something to prove. You crouched behind stacked crates and fumbled through your creations: a teddy bear, a toaster, a tennis racket. Before you could generate another capsule, you heard his whistle behind you. He was crouched, hands lazily in his pockets and looking over your shoulder with a deadpan expression that plainly said you were in over your head.

But you knew you were quick. The tennis racket sped toward its target only to be crumbled to ash as his hand stopped it an inch from the side of his head. He smiled at you then, not quite reaching his eyes but eerie and menacing all the same. And before you could even fathom throwing the toaster, he pinned your neck to the wall. Your feet kicked helplessly against the brick, unable to find purchase on the floor a inches below. One of your hands pried at his arm while the other reached for his face or his neck or anything you could grab hold of that could cause enough pain to lot weaken his grip. Your breaths came up short, your lungs screamed for a sip of air.

“It looks like a little mousy lost her way,” he chuckled. “Now whatever am I going to do with you?”

Drool leaked from your mouth as you fought against your restraint and blurred vision. Your mind clawed for consciousness, your body begged for survival. You had come to terms that one day you could potentially meet your end at the hands of a villain, as does any hero in this field of work, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

You felt the obstruction in your mouth before you saw it. The thumb of his free hand pressed on your dancing tongue, drool pooling where he held it down firm. If the look in his eyes scared you before, now they were wild and carnal and more terrifying.

He first has his way with you with his hand still around your throat. He let up on his grip and was so gracious enough to let you wrap your legs around him while he impales you without a second thought.

He grunts. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

You are no longer a virgin, but you’re sure you never experienced cock of this size, all the while without some form of foreplay. Granted, he used your drool to lubricate himself before sheathing himself deep in your gummy walls, the friction elicits a gasp of pain while from you as he moans and nips at your neck. Not long after he begins to thrust do you start sobbing, and soon after that he shoots inside of you, his cock twitching to unload what feels like everything he had. You hope it is over then. He would either kill you or leave you there broken physically and mentally. You find out soon enough it is neither.

“I’m gonna fuck you until your voice is gone from screaming my name, little mousy,” He gasps into your shoulder as the twitching finally ebbs and his release oozes down your thigh. “I’m gonna fill you with my cum until I am sure that when I leave you in this shithole, you will have a little part of me with you for the rest of your miserable life.”

And if there is one thing you can call Dabi, among the million curses and names you can conjure, you aren’t sure if you can call him a liar. For true to his word, albeit only partially, he comes into you, hard and relentless, two more times before starting once more. You are absolutely positive this goes against all modern male biology. But you guess, in a world with bizarre quirks, anything is possible.

Halfway through round four, you feels his fingers weave into your hair and, for a moment, you think Dabi just may capable of being passionate. Or, at the very minimum, maybe he thinks more of you than just a bucket for him to shoot his load in. This moment, you find, is fleeting as he yanks your head back and pulls you up until your back lies flat against his chest. He slowly pulls the zipper of your shirt down and grabs your breast callously, pinching your nipple hard until you cry out.

You can only imagine that he’s grown bored of your silence and complacency because his other hand reaches around until his fingers find your clit, exposed and hungry for some well-deserved stimulation. His fingers rub small circles against it, and you feel nauseated as you let out a moan, your pussy clenching desperately around him in newly kindled desire.

He hisses at your reaction, an obvious stamp of approval and continues flicking your bundle of nerves as he pumps in and out of you. “Say my name.”

Your mind, which, up until this point, had been lost in a sea of fog, finally breaks the surface. And it is pleading with you to not give in. He speeds up, each thrust hitting the right spot and oh no, oh no, it feels so fucking good.

“Say my name, little mouse.”

Your core coils tight with stimulation, the spring on the precipice of release with the pressure of his calloused fingers. The ache you had felt up until then is replaced with an immense pleasure that you haven’t felt in, let’s face it, ever. You stand on your toes to give him a better angle. Your hands searched for something to anchor onto. One mindlessly reaches above to grab onto his hair as he licks you, hot breath warming your already flush neck, the other latches onto your ignored breast.

“Say it.”

You bucked against him, almost there, almost there, so very close....

Until he becomes utterly and completely still.

“No, no. Please, Dabi! I need it. Fuck me, please Dabi!” You sob.

And with that, you feel a smirk form against your neck. He pulls out of you and before you can so much as whimper, he shoves you back onto a large crate. He grabs one leg and forces it up and over his shoulder as he penetrates you, holding your waist to keep you steady as he pumps in fast and hard. His hip bumps into your overstimulated clit with each thrusts and it nearly obliterates you. In this new position, his cock kisses your cervix and, if you ever had any semblance of control since being pounded into, it has all but disappeared.

“Dabi! I’m going to...Ah, shit, I’m gonna...”

As you begin convulsing, you hear his name, loud, hot and heavy, escape from your lips. Your release sends him over the edge, and he ruts into you.

Just as quickly, he slides out of you, places himself back into his pants and walks out with his hands in his pockets without a word before the cum can so much as leak out of you. You lay still and let the world refocus before you get up and go home. You come to realize that he didn’t so much as care if you came or not, and that the fact that you had was a happy coincidence on your part. What he was really aiming for was you to scream his name, just as he said you would. How little regard villains had felt about others left you in awe. Can you really go head to head against him or any other villain again?

You submit your resignation the next day.

And two months later, as you stand wide-eyed and frozen over the test exposing itself to you on the bathroom sink, you can finally confirm that Dabi is, in no way shape or form, a liar.

#dubious consent #no consent #ruttingseason #fan fiction #fanfiction #dabi my hero academia #dabi x reader #forced impreg #forcedsex #smut #dabi smut

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kibybun · 4 years ago

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Hi. Can I ask you to write about Aizawa or Hawks and their darling, who constantly joked about death and eventually she committed suicide, please? I love your writing💞 You are so awesome and talented and cool. Thank you so much for your work💕

Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I hope you like it!💞💞

Platonic Yandere Hawks x suicide joking reader

Tw: Yandere, suicide, self harm, angst

Enjoy!

💛Hawks first met you at the sports festival, showing off your quirk and demonstrating power. You caught his attention rather quickly.

💛Not only were you adorable but intriguing as well. You wore long sleeves, even though you looked uncomfortable in them, and you seemed oddly quiet compared to everyone else, shying away when they come up to talk to you.

💛Another thing that stood out to him was when you were doing the calvary battle. No one came to ask you to join their team, but you didn't go out and ask to join either. You just stood there until a purple hair guy came up to you, most likely getting you to join his group.

💛Though, you seemed to change. Your fighting style and the way you use your quirk changed.

💛It bothered Hawks the whole calvary battle but he was put at ease when some kid with a tail backed out due to the other guy brainwashing him.

💛You end up backing out too, much to Hawk's dismay.

💛Even though you weren't fighting anymore he still keeps his attention on you, not seeing your other classmates or students.

💛He watched you zone out and silently cheer for your classmates, finding it adorable as you watch in awe at some of the battles.

💛The sports festival ends and he follows you home, only to make surd your okay. Once he got home he quickly put in a request for you to come intern with him before going to bed.

💛When you went back to school you were excited to see if anyone wanted you to intern with them, knowing you wouldn't get as many requests like Todoroki or Deku.

💛... two. Only two requests.

💛It hurt to look at the board and see that you one of the most unwanted students in class 1-A. You thought you did really well and maybe impressed more than two people.

💛You get your list of hero agencies and sink deeper into your self pitty when you realize that one of the agencies werebt even specifically asking for you. All the students got requested by them.

💛That leaves Hawk's agency.

💛You didn't know much about him and his work so this was going to be awkward.

💛When the day came to board the subway and head off to your internship, no one wished you goodbye. All the groups and clicks were together, walking each other to their respective trains while you again, stood alone. You ere used to it though.

💛You board the train and zone out, nearly missing your stop.

💛Right as you get off the train your vision is filled with red feathers. Low and behold the pro hero who requested you.

💛His charisma hits you as you instantly feel welcome. He makes witty remarks about the train being too slow as he begins walking with you in tow.

💛Along the way you ask him why he wanted you to intern with him. He smirks and responds with a "Why wouldn't I?" That didn't answer your question.

💛He walks you to his agency and introduces you to all his other interns. After that he shoves you towards the bathroom, telling you to change into your hero costume.

💛He sure didn't waste time as the two of you begin patrolling the city. It seemed very rushed and eager but you prefered it over having to sit in class and do quizzes.

💛During patrol Hawks starts questioning you about school and life almkst like an uncle or brother would. It was very odd to you, considering you never get asked questions about yourself.

💛You felt so pitiful not being able to tell him your birthday, you had forgotten it, but somehow he was so understanding and kind about it.

💛It wasn't long before all of his fans flocked to the two of you, shouting questions and begging for autographs. You didn't like how all the people were surrounding you and Hawks could tell.

💛He uses his wing to shield you and hastily shoos the crowd off. After that he asks if you're okay and checks to make sure you didn't get hurt.

💛His intentions weren't to sleep with you, no. They were pure. He almost saw himself in you, alone and blocked off from the world. He just wanted to protect you and make sure you knew you weren't alone.

💛It was working too.

💛In the short week you were with him you had laughed the hardest you had in awhile and smiled more. You even considered him your bestfriend.

💛The one downside of your friendship was he couldn't see your cries for help.

💛While one roofs or flying with him you'd make jokes about how easy it would be to fall and die or how fun it'd feel to free fall.

💛He'd only laugh these off, thinking it was some kind of dark humor, because if something was wrong he'd trust you to tell him.

💛When the internship was over you had to hold back tears as he hugged you goodbye. Of course he gave you his number to keep in touch but it wouldn't be the same as sneaking away from work and eating fried chicken.

💛The second the train left you felt how alone you were. You didnt want to text him right away because that would feel too needy. Should you even text him? Was he doing it just to be nice or did he actually care?

💛You leave those thoughts behind as your phone buzzes. It was a text from Hawks. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

💛Your mood brightens as the two of you continue sending dumb chicken jokes, memes, and puns, with the occasional "dark humored" joke from you.

💛You make it home and your texting slowed, mainly due to Hawks having to work. You didn't know he was actually flying outside your house, making sure you were okay before flying off to buy you a dumb looking teddy bear.

💛Slowly, your mood begins to brighten with the constant reassurance of Hawks being there. He knew the right things to say at all times. Self conscious about your outfit? Incomes a barrage of compliments and confidence boosters. Nervous about a test or presentation? Boom, paragraphs about how amazing you are and how you can do it.

💛It almost made the emptiness inside go away.

💛Problems don't just go away, and it really shows.

💛Whenever you couldn't text or call Hawks your loniness sinks in. You had no other friends besides him. Your parents weren't the beat either with their comments about what you're doing or what you're wearing.

💛It only reminded you of all the reasons for the scars on your arms.

💛But before you could act on those reasons he was there. It was always magicly when you were crying in bed or fumbling with a sharp object.

💛Over time Hawks picked up on your thoughts and feelings, causing him to watch over you every second he could. He loved you so much, he couldn't lose you.

💛The amount of cute gifts he gets you griw over time. More stuffed animals, more snacks, more little trinkets. Anything to make you happy.

💛And again, it worked. The nights you spent crying or staring numbly at the ceiling slowly decreased. You also threw away the razors you had hidden, determined to stay clean.

💛When the work studies came you were the happiest you've ever been. You got to be with Hawks again.

💛Upon seeing him you were greeted with the best hug you've ever gotten along with fried chicken for lunch.

💛But something was off this time. He seemed a little more paranoid walking around the city with you, more eager to be inside at night, and disappearing at night.

💛It worried you, making you overthink the hole situation tenfold.

💛What if he was trying to avoid you? Where you being that annoying? Maybe he was tired of you. You should just leave him alone.

💛He hugs you goodbye as you leave, still conflicted.

💛Sadly your thoughts only grow stronger as time goes on. His texts become shorter and less frequent, making you think he was tired of you. His constant gifts had stopped as well

💛Hawks couldn't control his lack of contact with you. He wanted to spam you with memes at two am like he normally did but he was given a mission that couldn't be compromised, even at the expense of your friendship.

💛You fall back into your dark place without him. You were reminded of how forgettable you were to everyone, how you had no friends beside him, how your parents were disappointed in you.

💛What's the point in living in pain?

💛You start cutting again, just wanting to feel something again. You stop sleeping and eating, not feeling the need for it anymore. You completely passed out during training due to this.

💛One weekend you ride a train away from your town and into the one where Hawk's agency was. You were looking for him, a sign, anything, to tell you to stop.

💛The streets were empty and he was no where in sight.

💛You fight yourself at the top of a business building, hands trembling as you sent a final text to your only friend. You told him how much he ment to you, how grateful you were to him, how sorry you were for being annoying and taking up so much of his time, how this was goodbye.

💛You got to feel the wind rush past you. You were right about it being fun to free fall.

💛Hawks was talking to Dabi when his phone buzzed. Thinking it was the commission he checked it.

💛Dabi watched as Hawk's smug demeanor turned to confused then broken. He watched the pro hero fall to his knees and clutch his phone, nearly cracking it.

💛Dabi didn't even have a chance to ask what was wrong as Hawks flew at super sonic speed away from him and up into the sky.

💛He first scanned the buildings looking for you, wiping the tears from his eyes to try and see better. When he couldn't find you he swoops down low to the streets to see if he could catch you before you hit the ground.

💛He stops when he sees the splatters of your body of the ground.

💛He collapses next to you, sobbing as he looked at your remains.

💛It was his fault. He should've been there so much more. He should've watched you more carefully than he did. He should've killed those fuckers who thought they were better than you.

💛You should've lived.

💛Hawks lays there crying, going over all the things he did wrong and how it should've been him to die.

💛The morning comes and police officers tape off the area, pulling a now broken man away from you. They clean the area and leave.

💛Hawks mindlessly sits in the spot you were in, hoping this was a nightmare.

💛Night falls and Dabi managed to find him. He tells Hawks that he saw the news. It was odd for him to feel sympathy for a hero but here he was.

💛Hawks stands and grabs Dabi's hand, placing it on his face before begging him to set him ablaze. He didn't want to live in a world without you.

💛Dabi backs up, retreating his hand and looking at him stunned. What exactly did you mean to him?

💛Hawks continues to beg and pleas but Dabi continues to refuse. Too bad Hawks would do anything to die at this point.

💛Hawks shouts out his plans to spy on the league, to manipulate and destroy them from the inside. How he would kill them all in secret if he could. How it would be the best feeling ever to watch them die in betrayal.

💛Dabi falls for his trap. Rage was the only thing he could feel as his fire engulfed Hawks, semding him to the grave in a firey blaze.

💛He ran from the scene, leaving another body in the same spot.

kiby~💚

#bnha hawks #hawks #hawks x reader #keigo tamaki #mha hawks #my hero academia keigo takami #bnha #my hero academia #yandere hawks #yandere Keigo #yandere #yandere x reader

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hopelesshawks · 4 years ago

Text

Physical Fatality Part 14- Back to Life

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for mentions of alcoholism

Masterlist Kofi

The morning after being fired was hard for you. You barely slept that night, thoughts ricocheting between how to convince All Might to let you stay on and what the hell you’re going to do if he won’t. Mina and Denki stayed with you the whole night. There was something comforting about their warm weight next to you and Denki’s snoring, but it wasn’t enough to completely fill the void that had grown at your core since All Might’s call the previous night. Eventually they had to leave you alone and you had fully intended to use that alone time to fill the void with liquor, only to discover your roommates had completely cleared your apartment of booze. When you’d opened the liquor cabinet you’d instead found it filled with various junk foods, a note taped to the front of the pile in Denki’s messy scrawl reading “You should eat your feelings head held high. You’re an amazing hero and you’ll figure it out!!”

In retrospect, going on a suicide mission to take down a terrorist cell all on your own with zero back up probably isn’t what Denki meant when he said “figure it out” but what can you say? Desperate times and all that right? At least that’s what you told yourself as you left something small for Bakugo and Midoriya on their desks. It’s not like you want to die, but you’re distinctly aware it’s a possibility and you don’t want your best friends blaming themselves. You manage to avoid most people as you’re going through the humiliating process of clearing out your desk but of course you manage to bump into your now former boss. You can feel your anger bubbling up but you press it down. You’re not ready to wake up that particular devil. In his defense he does at least have the decency to look contrite. “I really am sorry about all this,” he tells you and you have to take a deep breath before you answer to stop yourself from snapping. “You said I’m too much to handle. No one told you that was the case, that was your judgment call. I wanted so badly to be like you and now I’m tumbling down from trying so hard to reach your high. I’m not going to ask you to change your mind right now, but at least take responsibility for the choice,” you tell him. You walk away before he can react and take solace in the feeling of Bakugo’s work notes tucked safely into the pocket of your jacket.

The difficult part was finding a place to regroup and think through your game plan. Your apartment was a no go since Mina and Denki would want to talk you out of your plan. Anything too public was an obvious nonstarter as well. In the end you’d settled for rooftops. You could keep an eye out in case someone came looking for you but it also kept you out of view from casual, wandering eyes. It only took a little bit of scanning through Bakugo’s notes to realize you’d need the rest of the task force’s notes as well. The ones you had were great for planning a least-likely-to-end-in-death strategy once you breached the building but had nothing about the location of the villains or what kind of security you may be dealing with. It takes you a minute to think over how best to get access to the rest of the files but then you remember the cocktail party. Everyone would be busy. It would just be a matter of sneaking in, grabbing the notes, and getting out.

You mentally plot out and make your way down the safest rooftop route to Endeavor’s agency, already game planning. One key problem is your friends. It won’t be too long until they realize you’re missing and you can’t have them catching up to you. You’re sure the minute Denki and Mina return home they’ll report that they haven’t seen you to Bakugo. Then it’s only a matter of time before he reaches out to the others in hopes of finding you. You need a way to slow them down, that much at least is clear. It takes a little bit but eventually inspiration dawns on you as you recall Endeavor’s security system and protocols. By the time you’ve reached your destination you’ve got a fleshed out plan of action and waste no time setting it in motion.

You search the rooftop until you find the maintenance hatch then you carefully reach out into the lock with your quirk, feeling the pins and shifting until finally you get the click you’re looking for. You quickly feel around the open shaft with your quirk as well to make sure no additional security has been added since you’d last seen specs for the building and, finding nothing, you slide into the hatch and close the door behind you. From there you slip through the maintenance shaft and then drop down into a hallway. It’s entirely deserted, just as you knew it would be, with everyone too busy at the party downstairs to notice as you make your way over to Hawks and Todoroki’s desks. You quickly rummage through them until you identify what you need, grabbing the necessary files before going back the way you came and out onto the roof again. Once out you lean over the edge of the building and using your elbow and your quirk to reinforce it you smash the window closest to you before reaching out with your quirk to mess with the desks and make it look as if you had rummaged through the papers in a rush.

As the alarm blares and the building goes into lockdown you quickly escape to another rooftop and hide away, satisfied with your work. They’ll be doing a full sweep of the building, no one allowed to leave, convinced you’re inside. By the time they realize their mistake you’ll be long gone. You crack open the files you’ve just stolen and pour over them as quickly as you can, noting building layouts and locations as well as any additional information about the villains and their quirks. Once you’ve got it all committed to memory you fold the papers and shove them into your pockets as well. It doesn’t take you long to get to the rooftop of the villain hideout. It takes even less time for you to find a way inside through a ventilation shaft. As you drop down into the hallway, shocking a nearby guard who scrambles to stand up, you aren’t thinking about how dumb this is or your lack of back up or the fact you’re about to take on an entire villain group by yourself.

You think of the pain and the sadness and the frustration and the anger you’ve felt, not just since getting fired but every time the press or All Might or Endeavor or anyone else has tested you unfairly because of your past. For so long you have contained the hurt from years of injustices throughout your hero career for the sake of appearances. All of that frustration and pain that had driven you to drink. Now you are free of your chains.

Now you’ve woken the devil inside you up.

And you may not make it out of this encounter alive...

But for the first time in a long time you’ve fully come back to life.

Author’s Note: I had so much fun planning out (y/n)’s heist tbh. I believe in (y/n) supremacy, the boys played right into her hand and now she’s about to do some damage 🤩 we’re actually hitting the final stretch with this series now. After this there are just two (2!!!) more parts before it’s over which is wild to me. Thank you guys for sticking with it

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

#hopelesspf #hawks #wing hero hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n

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toringo · 7 months ago

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We also should talk about the image of a family and interpersonal relationships from Curt's perspective, since we know nothing about Owen's personal life. If we're talking purely canon and Curt is our POV character, we need to see it through him. Curt's father left his family when Curt was a baby. He never had a positive male role model, as his mother's stated in the show. It might've been a joke, but it is true nonetheless. He was raised by her and she is quite intrusive. Being a momma's boy is another tired gay stereotype, but Curt is like that for a reason - he doesn't have any friends. (And no, I won't count Owen as one, despite them calling each other that, because their relationship is toxic and distant. They don't know each other. They are lovers, but their friendship is shallow at best.) It is entirely possible that Curt was homeschooled, or wasn't in a public school for long. He probably started his work young and got it thanks to his mother's connections to the Special Service. That could be a way in which his mother unintentionally isolated him and made him depend on her even more (no, I don't want to make her into a villain, but it's just a thing that happens. Lone mothers turn overprotective and controlling). Men raised that way often lack independence and are indecisive and lost in their adult life, and their worth is defined by the judgement they receive. That way, he escaped from under his mother's control and landed in Cynthia's care. You know, his boss and another strict mother figure. That has a complete control over his future and could ruin his life with one document, or one test. The most prominent figures in his life are literally in control of it. And he doesn't have much else. So far, his only idea of a family is a pattern of power and obedience. Why would he want it? Maybe being a spy is a job and the missions are dangerous, and he has to follow orders, but not at all times. He is away from everyone, and he can do whatever he wants in his free time, no judgement and no one looking over his shoulder. He can do this all his way if he still get results. This is freedom. At least for him, the only freedom he knows. The vision of having a family is nauseating. He would have to take less dangerous (less freeing) missions; would have to go back home every now and then; would have to listen and follow. He would be chained, again. And would have to marry a woman. A true family is a man and a woman, right? They should have 2 children, a boy and a girl. They should have a house with a white fence and a dog and a treehouse for their kids. Two men is not a family, that's ridiculous! Two men can be friends, partners, lovers. But not a couple, not a family. The thought of having a domestic life with Owen for real has never crossed his mind because in his mind it's not what a domestic life should be. Sure, he thought how it'd be if they lived together and woke up together. But it was never serious. And it could never be serious, because how? They are from two different countries, two agencies. And they can't leave them, he can't leave. What would he do without it? Where would he work? He doesn't have any place to go. And two single men living together? That's a suicidal idea. The best they could hope for is living close to each other and finding a boring, regular job. Be together from afar, still, but with less excitement. No convenient cover-ups. No government perks. No action. No real freedom and thrill. A life controlled by another construct. He'd rather have the illusion.

Owen "I want a safe domestic life with you" Carvour VS Curt "I want our life to be an action comedy romance" Mega

#sorry if it's incoherent i'm sleepy and sad and tired and gay #might have lost it in the middle eh not rereading #basically uh curt has a shit experience with family and women and heteronormativity killed the spy #and his idea of a family is pretty nuclear yknow

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sou-ver-2-0 · 4 years ago

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Do you sometimes wonder how Shin would have fared in the Death Game if he had decided not to adopt the Sou persona (who he would get along with, what he would do to help, etc)? Like, he saw how low his survival score was, but just continued on throughout the game as himself? I just crave for the True Shin AU. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

This ask has been in my inbox for a long time, and it’s the one that makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, so I’m happy to answer it on this joyous day. :)

Anon, I wonder about this all the time! What would Shin be like in the Death Game if he stayed true to himself?

I admit that I think Shin would have needed a different First Trial in order to keep his name. His canon First Trial is so poisonous that I can’t imagine him coming out of it “intact.” To view everyone’s survival rates is the kind of trial that would harshen anyone, but there are many factors that make it uniquely difficult for Shin to hold onto his self-worth. Shin is a deeply emotional person who reacts passionately before he can think logically; he has been in an abusive relationship before, which profoundly affected his views of “weak” and “strong” people; he is passionate about numbers and math; he is intelligent and attentive to details; he overthinks things; and, of course, his survival rate of 0% is the most terrifying of them all…

Don’t get me wrong; I’ll give Shin credit for his free will in choosing to abandon his name! The fact that Shin exercises so much agency in the story, even as his character is “fated” to die, is one of my favorite things about him! But I want to stress that this First Trial was uniquely difficult for Shin. Asu-Naro found the perfect way to break Shin’s own sense of self by preying on his specific weaknesses, and even mocking his strengths.

I don’t want to say it’s inevitable for Shin to abandon himself in that trial. (In fact, his kind self still resurfaces at multiple points in the story, proving that “Sou Hiyori” never killed “Shin Tsukimi” in that room after all.) What I’m saying is that Shin’s character represents a desperate person reacting to impossible structural problems. His lot in life is to be a job hopper who cannot find financial stability under late capitalism. His lot in the Death Game is that he has zero percent chance of survival. How do you adapt to an impossible structural problem like that?

I think the way you adapt depends on this question: Can you imagine yourself facing the great unknown with courage?

If we tell Shin upfront that he is “fated to die,” we reinforce his fear that he can’t trust anyone, and we reinforce his perception of himself as a weak person. We should expect him to react fearfully, and with low regard for his self-worth. At the end of his canon First Trial, Shin can’t imagine himself as a good person.

But what if Shin had a First Trial that encouraged him to trust others? That’s the kind of First Trial that Sara and Joe had. And what if Shin’s First Trial tested his cunning and ability to think fast on his feet, instead of mocking his tendency to overthink things? Then he would become more confident in his own strengths! If Shin’s First Trial was more like Sara’s, we would be encouraging him to be more open-hearted, and he could even change his perception of himself from a cowardly weakling to a brave protector.

Remember Kugie Kizuchi. Kugie parallels Shin, and she had Sara’s First Trial. Instead of reacting fearfully in her trial, Kugie was brave. She gave her life to save her little sister. Unlike Shin, who couldn’t imagine finding any courage in himself during his First Trial, Kugie mustered her courage at the start. She died, but she was the best version of herself in her final moments.

Let’s imagine that Shin still survived his First Trial, but it was the kind of trial that made him feel like the good version of himself, rather than the worst version of himself. He is open-hearted and kind instead of being closed-off and cruel. I love to imagine that he is still drawn to Sara because she seems “steadfast and strong” and he admires that about her. But this time, he isn’t afraid of her. He likely trusts Sara more than Keiji, similar to Nao. Because if you don’t know anything about the percentages, then Sara simply looks like a brave high school girl, and you can see her vulnerabilities more clearly. It would be much easier for Shin to sympathize with Sara and trust in her from the beginning.

I really love to imagine that Shin would still be drawn to Kanna. Kanna has the most vulnerable personality, and Shin feels a strong sense of solidarity with vulnerable people. If he is the best version of himself, he will always defend the most weak among them, even without knowing the survival rates.

If you show Shin his 0% survival rate at the start, of course he is going to feel like the situation is impossible and everything is beyond his control.

But if you don’t let him know about it, then Shin will feel in control of himself. And without knowing anything about his potential, he somehow always becomes the lone adult who always dies so that the children have a chance to live.

Not because Shin wants to die, like Kanna wants to die.

But because it’s the right thing to do.

I love to think that the reason Hinako, Gin, and most of all Kanna have as high survival rates as they do is because Shin—a genuinely clever and talented adult—would rather give his survival percentage points to them.

This is why I love Shin Tsukimi so much. This is why I keep writing words and words about him on this blog. I am not a hopeful person. I don’t have much faith in humanity’s ability to solve seemingly impossible structural problems.

But I do want to keep trying to do the right thing.

And this weird little anime villain with a silly scarf reminds me that I can keep trying to do the right thing, even when I think “winning” is impossible, and that’s enough.

When I started out writing this, I had more words to say, but I think this is a good stopping point. Thank you for asking me another worthy question about Shin! I like to imagine he was a beloved companion in those simulations where he remained true to himself!

#yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #your turn to die spoilers #sou hiyori #shin tsukimi #asks #mine #meta #theories #because I do get speculative in here I have to admit hahaha #even if I strongly believe in these ideas #This analysis is really just me being extremely sentimental about Shin Tsukimi and feeling rather happy today :)#sou and sara #sou and kanna #headcanons

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hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little · 4 years ago

Text

Voicemail

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

-part 1-

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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One moment Keigo was flying through cloud nine and the next he was falling faster than ever.

(Y/n) was the first one to break his walls. See the broken man through the believable facade portrayed by the media. She loved him, the real him, not the picture perfect model on the tv young boys and girls dream about and idolize. All his flaws and scars never repealed her for even a moment, she loved him unconditionally. She was the first to do so, the first to show him that he didn’t have to be perfect.

Keigo remembers when she shattered those barriers. Oh, how he cried. It was only a week until their one year anniversary. But, this was the first time (y/n) had seen him all battered and beaten from a fight earlier. No feathers on his back, nasty gashes on his face and arms, Hawks might as well have been fresh out of a human sized shredder. Really, he should have gone to the hospital, but he figured he could just handle the damage himself. He remembers being frozen in place when his eyes landed on her after just walking into their shared apartment. She should have been asleep already, yet there she was standing in the dim lighted hallway with the worry shining in those doe eyes of hers. Her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red as if she had been crying moments ago. Quickly, she scurried over to him scanning over his torn form. From there gently but quickly guided him to the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies.

He was sitting on a stool near the bathroom sink as (y/n) sat right next to him with her legs folded on the floor. The silence was deafening, no questions were asked. Hawks quietly watched her shaking hands delicately wrap one of the bandages around his wounded arm. Making sure the fabric was not to tight, but not too lose that it would come undone. Sighing, he reached the hand she previously wrapped and cupped her cheek, rubbing his ever so gently under her eye, causing her to stop her actions and place her hand upon his own, closings her eyes. She lowered her head as her shoulders started shaking ever so slightly with every sniffle and hiccup that came from her. Hawks used his other hand guide her face towards his wiping away freshly dropping tear that cascaded down her puffy red cheeks. It was only a couple for minutes before she broke the silence.

“I saw it on the news,” Her bottoms lip quivered more as she spoke.

“What did you see, my love?”

“Them hurt you,” She sobbed “It was all over the news, you were- you were thrown through the building and pummbled into the ground, the- then the power shut off and I did know if- I didn’t know-”

The poor thing couldn’t even finish the sentence, she was now curled over her knees sobbing into her hands in attempt to muffle her cries. Hawks was in shock, he knew she cared and worried for him, but apparently underestimated the extent at which it went. Never in his life has someone genuinely cried on his behalf, not even his so-called parents. This was the moment he broke down. This was the moment he knew she truly loved him and he truly loved her.

Shifting so that Keigo was now on the ground with her, he pulled her to his lap, rocking them both from side to side, as he burying his face in her hair. In this moment both of their hearts beat for each other and nothing could change that. He hadn’t even realized his own tears that were falling until she pulled back just alittle to stare into his eyes and wipe them away. There was nothing but love and care in those glazed over her eyes.

Hawks remembers sitting on the tile of the bathroom floor the rest of the night in eachothers embrace. No one in the rest of the world mattered, it was only them, both vulnerable to each other’s love.

She meant so much to him, she was like the feathers on his back, freeing and always there to lift him up. Everyone at the agency loved her, she was motherly to the interns and alway there to vent if someone needed to talk. She was a true blessing to all those around her. Time went on and there love only grew stronger.

Lately something had seemed off with Keigo, he was acting cold and distant, and not even he could pinpoint why. Maybe it was the stress of all the hero work piling up. Being the number Two Hero came with a lot of responsibility and a lot more work which he had to keep on top of. Keigo had been staying at the office later doing paperwork into the early hours of the morning for the past three days. And when he did return home (y/n) was always draped over the arm of the couch in her night time attire asleep. It was obvious that she was trying to wait up for him, but always seemed to fail. Shaking his head with a small smile at her silliness, he picked her up and brought her to bed. It wasn’t long before he joined her, but Hawks was always gone before she would wake up.

She would leave him encouraging texts and voicemails throughout the day, to which he never replied to. It seemed like they hadn’t even really had a real conversation in a couple of months. Every time she would try and reach out to her, he’d blow her off, avoiding any sort of confrontation. Keigo already has so much going through his head with all this league of villains stuff, the last thing he needs is another person giving him problems.

Today marked the 3 year anniversary of their relationship. It was a quiet day at the agency, so (y/n) came to visit. Of course a bunch of the women pulled her into the break area to gossip. They were all talking and giggling when he was walking by. Hawks stopped to listen at the door when one giggling in particular reached his ears making him smile. The ladies wanted juicy details about Hawks and his lover’s relationship. He couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his face hearing her stutter out haste responses obviously embarrassed by their questions.

A couple more questions were thrown around and he put his hand on the door getting ready to barge in and save his poor baby like the hero he was. Hawks was half way through the door when one of the ladies asked about marriage making him halt. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were on (y/n)’s as his smile slowly fell. He shifted his gaze to the ground as he backed out the door, the sound of a chair being pulled back followed by the hurried steps of his lover close behind him. Her hand reached out and grasped the hand in an attempt to make him stop, which was successful and he turned to look at her, his face void of emotion.

“They were only joking, you know,” She said, hoping to lighten the mood, but there was some sort of panic or desperation hidden in her voice, Hawks could hear it.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at her with a straight face. By the grace of whatever higher ups there were, his work phone went off signaling an emergency.

She squeezed his hand “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but know that I love you and I will listen if there anything you want to talk about when you come back, we can skip our dinner reservations and just chill at home if you want.”

“I can’t talk about this right now, ill see you at home,” He muttered, ripping his hand from her hold.

Keigo turned around, walking away from her, but not miss the shocked and pained look that spread over her face. As he walked towards his office, the employee’s mouths hung open in shock. With shame and guilt beginning to set in, Keigo quickened his pace to his destination, slamming the door behind him as he arrived. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as his hands tugged at the untamed locks on his head. Pulling himself together, Keigo grabbed his gear and headed to the destination at which he was needed.

The mission was a breeze, but he didn’t return to the office, instead he opted to clear his mind soaring through the night time clouds. He flew out of the city bounds and landed on a tree that stood miles away, facing the glowing outline of the city. Hawks sat on one of the sturdier branches leaning against the thick core it sprouted from and closing his heavy eyes.

What was his issue? What had changed to make him act so harsh? God, (y/n) probably hates him now. Can’t say he would blame her though, he’s been nothing but a jerk to her these past couple of days. Damn, he was such an asshole at the office. Ignoring her, snapping at her, pushing her away when she had done nothing wrong.

But that’s not what she thought. These past days all she could do was pick her own mind over and over again. This has been going on for an entire month, nothing has been resolved, it only seems to be getting worse. She tried staying up and waiting till he got home to talk to him, but he was always home so late. (Y/n) tried calling, but that never got anywhere. It was alway go straight to voicemail. The same old:

“Heyyyyy, sorry I can’t answer at this moment. If its urgent or you have chicken that you can eat/ just want to give me chicken call my bussiness number at (***)***-****. Talk to ya later.”

She would alway leave a sweet and encouraging voicemail, sometime she would ask when he would be home, or if he maybe wanted to meet her for food or something.

So now here she sits at 1am, holding the tiny wrapped box she was going to give him for their anniversary while tears streamed down her face. Stuffed inside is a pregnancy test, they always joked about kids before this issue started. She found out about two weeks ago, deciding to wait to give it to him today, or yesterday, since she could never really get a hold of him lately.

She can’t do this much longer though, it was really starting to get to her, maybe it was the hormones talking, but it hurts nonetheless. No matter how she twisted it in her head she couldn’t understand where they went wrong. Setting the present on the counter, she walked to their shared bed room so she could grab a couple of necessities for the night. As of right now she was planning on crashing at a friends house who was already informed of (y/n)’s current predicament. Rumi Usagiyama always knew how to cheer her up.

After stuffing the duffle bag, (y/n) wrote a little note and left it at the edge of the night stand before grabbing the car keys and heading out the door. Making sure to turn off all the lights and lock the door on her way.

Unfortunately, in her rush she left the small box neatly wrapped bright colors and a golden bow resting forgotten on the counter.

It was hours till Keigo finally got the courage to head home to her for the night, or morning, as it was past 1 am. It felt cold inside, it felt empty. Keigo didn’t like it. Normally (y/n) kept the kitchen light on as she would always try and wait up for him when he came home.

The further he walked in the more he panicked, (y/n) wasn't passed out on the couch. Uneasiness settled deep in his gut as he started searching the apartment in a frenzy. Heading towards their bedroom, he froze at the door frame seeing, it was empty, she wasn’t there.

He started yelling out her name, desperate for some sort of response while he searched every room. Keigo checked his phone, nothing. He called her, no response. Maybe, she was somewhere outside. Yeah, (y/n) loved going on early morning walks.

While rushing back towards the front door, a shiny gold sparkle caught his eye. It stood out of place in the dark kitchen. The glittery glow illuminated from golden ribbons wrapped around a package all connecting to form a bow on the top.

Cautiously walking over to the counter he picked it up, immediately eyeing a tag that had flopped to the side. Two fingers grasped it, flipping it from one side to the other. On the opposite side was written ‘To: Keigo’ in the beautiful handwriting that could only belong to (y/n).

His heart sunk as guilt started eating away at him. Pulling the ends of the ribbons, he slowly unwrapped it, taking the lid off the small box. At first he was confused, inside was just a bunch of tissue paper and some kinda plastic stick. When Keigo saw the 2 bright red stripes going down one side, it clicked. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

Keigo’s mind went blank as the world around him froze. Tears started racing down his now damp cheeks. God what has he done. After placing the stick back in the box and then shoving it in his coat pocket Keigo bolted to the closest window, phone in hand attempting to call her phone.

All calls went to voicemail. There was no sign of her anywhere. Keigo could feel his wings shake in panic and desperation. Two hours had gone by and there was nothing.

Where was his (y/n), where was his angel? The woman who put up with all his shit throughout the years. The woman who loved him unconditionally, even when she saw how truly broken of a man he was. The woman who worried for him, cared for him, healed him, knew him. The real him. The woman who was carrying their baby, the woman- the one he pushed away. The one who he ignored and made cry. The one he hurt.

He needed to find her, try to mend all his mistakes. Hell, beg on his knees for her to forgive him. Ask how he could make it up to her. Let him show her that he can be a better man for not only her, but their baby. Oh, god they were going to have a baby. Just the thought of the little chick, made his heart cry out of joy and love.

There was so much he had to say to her. So much time he wanted to make up for. He wanted, no, needed to hold her, encase her and their little chick away from the world in a cocoon of red feathers. But, first he had to find them.

Landing on the barren street he began searching on foot, choosing to call up a few other heros in hope that they had either seen her or would help search for her. No one had seen her, not even Rumi, her best friend, had heard from or seen her the whole day. The few heros that were awake in the early morning, including Endeavor and of course Rumi, went out to start looking for her.

Another hour went by and there was no news, at this point Rumi was using her phone to try and call her. As Rumi was calling, Keigo faintly heard the familiar tone of (y/n) ringtone.

It was faint, but if he followed its sound, it kept getting louder and louder, and almost seemed to be more distorted from its original sweet tone. He followed it right to the entrance of an alley. The ringing stopped signalling the reject of the call. Leading into the dark shadowy ally was a smeared red looking substance that glistened in the moonlight.

Rumi caught up to him, eyes following his gaze to the ground. She watched as her friend shakingly pulled his own phone from his pocket, calling (y/n). A lump formed in her throat as the ringtone of her best friend went off a couple feet before them as a light illuminated from the receiving device.

Neither of them could move as Endeavor came from behind them, witnessing the whole thing. Endeavor used his fire to create a light source, giving them a better view.

Before the heros was a blood splattered ground, all over the brick walls and objects on the ground. But there was not a source of where that blood might have come from. The reminisce of a duffle bag lay abandoned on the side next to a dumpster. It’s contents were scattered all around, ripped clothes and other items which blood splattered all over.

There was only one person who all there’s items belonged to. They all knew it. Especially Keigo.

He took a couple steps in stopping right before a bright screen in the center of it all. The device displayed warped images of the two of them on the shattered glass of the screen. Keigo could make out both of their faces, he was holding her on a bridge. Arms wrapped around each other, him kissing her blush covered cheek as she sweetly giggled.

Keigo fell to his knees in front of it. Rumi started wailing, yelling to (y/n) that this was not a joke, demanding she come out. Endeavor stepped to the side calling for backup and a forensic team.

Curling over his knees, Keigo started sobbing hysterically. His wings slumped to the ground shaking with every sob that racked through his body.

The phone kept ringing, as if it was mocking him. Ringing. Ringing. And ringing. Over and over again. Until it went on, until it stopped and caused his phone to go to voicemail. Her angelic voice came from his speake

“Sorry if I couldn’t answer right away, make sure to leave a message and i- hey! Keigo stop, no, Keig-,” “She obviously busy, if it is urgent call a hero or something,” “Keigo for God sake, give me my phone” “Leave a message or call later, i really don't care which,” “You dorky chicken leg, give it back!”

Then it cut out, ending the voice over. Her voice faded out, leaving his broken cries the only thing to be heard.

Keigo never moved, he sat there hurled over in the middle of the alleyway, wings splayed out over the ground.

Endeavor had to drag Keigo to his feet and haul him out of the way so that the investigators could get to work. He made Keigo sit on a bench by the front of the building next to the alley. A bunch of heros were trying to console Rumi through her mentally breakdown, as she cursed the world, threatening the worst to those who took her family.

Keigo stared back towards the ally littered with a team of investigators through blurry eyes. He felt his world come to an end. No damage he could or had taken amounted to his current pain. It squeezed at his chest and restricted his airways. He couldn’t control his muscles, everything ached from head to toe.

The one person who kept him from falling was stolen. Not even the wings on his back can keep him from falling into the cruel hell hole that is society.

Reaching into the coat pocket his coat pocket he pulled out the box, holding it in his lap. Tears once again spilling down his face. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. Someone took away his babies.

She always called Keigo her hero. She promised him that nothing would ever change that.

(Y/n) could be alive somewhere, the investigators came over and informed that there is no sign of a body, but a blood trail that leads to tire marks through one of the connecting alleyways.

Keigo is going to find her. He’s going to bring his babies home. Shower his angel in all the love she deserves. He’s going to fix everything.

Hands clutched the box in a tight grip as razor eyes narrowed at the alley. Keigo could feel his feathers sharpening from his state of anger. There was going to be Hell to pay. Blood to shed. Bones to break. May God have mercy on those who took (y/n), because Keigo will have none to give.

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Edit: I’m not sure if I should just leave it there or make a part 2 so let me know what all y’all think.

#hawks x reader #bnha #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks #kiego takami x reader

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crimson-mage-02 · 4 years ago

Text

Spy x Family Mission 2: Honeymoon (Smut/Fluff)

Summary: Loid wanted to go on a family outing with his daughter and wife until he was asked to go on a mission and had Yor to come along on their new mission to save newly wedded brides on their honeymoon.

A/N: This is my Christmas gift for @kadhis-stuff!! This is for you! I also posted this in Ao3! I had so much fun writing this fanfic of Loid and Yor! I really, really, really, hope you’ll like this! Please forgive me if you spotted any errors. Everyone and @kadhis-stuff, enjoy reading, comment and give feedback!

Merry Christmas and and stay safe!

Anya was walking along the path with her adoptive father, Loid was following her on the way home and listened to her talking excitedly about how she’ll spend her time with her uncle Yuri and Franky. He wished they wouldn’t teach her anything that was unnecessary unlike the last time they had taught her how to handle a knife and a gun.

But luckily it was a plastic knife. Much to his relief, he chuckled remembering Yor was teaching her hand to hand combat before attending the Eden academy. He didn’t really say anything much, but right now, he finds it cute. “Papa!”

“Ah, yes, Anya?” Loid looked down at her with a smile.

“Is Mama coming home to cook dinner with us?” Anya asked him as she tugged in his pants.

“Mama will be coming home a bit late and we’ll be cooking dinner together. How does that sound?” Loid asked her.

“Mmm, yeah!” Anya smiled brightly as they walked in hand in hand together on their way home. When they got home, they immediately got started with preparation of making dinner while Yor comes home from work.

It has been months since he and Yor have become an official married couple. He loved spending everyday with her and their daughter Anya. He definitely will not abandon them as he loves them so much. He vowed to protect the two of them. “Anya, get changed and wash your hands.”

“Okie!” Anya saluted with Bond licking her face. She ran into her room to get changed while Loid had changed as well and gave some dog food for Bond in the corner near the new table they had bought. Franky and Anya both had promised they won’t be destroying another table ever again.

He had started some buttered chicken with some sauce while hearing Anya was running towards him and hugged his legs. “Oh, Anya. You ready? Here, you start by stirring the soup.” He gave her a spoon to use to stir while he cuts the meat and then put them into the soup.

At 5pm, when the sun had set and it was dark, Yor came home tired with a worn out look on her face. “Oh no! Mama!” Anya exclaimed worriedly.

“I’m home.” Yor said tiredly as she walked towards the couch and lay down for a bit. Loid turned off the stove and had asked Anya to give them privacy which she complied as she went to study in her room.

He turned to his wife and let her lay on his shoulder. “Tough day at work?”

“Mmm hmm, I have been working so hard. Yet there is so much needed to be done. Oh, how I want a vacation, Loid. It would be very helpful just to relax every once in a while.” Yor said hugging him around his waist.

Loid smiled and then rubbed her back. “I do hope that some dinner would help you relax tonight then maybe I can plan for a trip. Just us three.”

Yor’s eyes brightened and sparkled. “I really do love your cooking. And a think a trip does sound wonderful.”

“Great. I will tell Handler that I will be unavailable for the entire week or month.” Loid smiled at her and stood up with her.

“Oh? Handler is the one who tells you about your missions as a spy?” Yor asked as she helped setting up the table.

“Yes, she’s the one. I think she’ll understand.” Loid chuckled putting the pot in the center of the table. “Plus, she now saw how things had gotten better with us, I think she’ll understand I could have a few days to spend more time with you.”

“I am sure she’ll understand. And I’ll get Anya since dinner is ready.” Yor smiled as she walked towards daughter’s room. “Anya, dinnertime.”

The three of them had dinner together with Bond eating some of the leftovers. They all had discussed what they all had done for the day including Anya showing the art projects she had made in classes.

After dinner, Loid was reading some paper in thinking where he could take Yor and Anya to for their trip. He hummed in deep thought while Yor washed the dishes and Anya was taking a bath. “Loid? Are you searching for a place where we could have a trip?”

“Yes, I am. We went to the aquarium last time. I thought we could go to the beach while renting a beach house to stay in. How does that sound?” Loid asked her.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.” Yor agreed while clasping her hands together. “I cannot wait!”

The next day…. Loid walked to the agency to request for a few days off with his family. But it wasn’t all he ever had hoped for until Franky had informed he has a new mission on the same day of his vacation with his family. “What? Can’t you find another agent to do this? I really need to spend more time with my family as possible.”

“Sorry, Loid.” Franky apologised to him. “But—But it is a really interesting mission. Just wait until she explains to you.”

Loid sighed and muttered. “This better be good.” They both walked into the office and found Handler was putting some champagne in a basket with red ribbons and some love hearts inside it. Loid gulped softly and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Oh, good Twilight, you have arrived.” Handler smirked.

Loid’s eyes twitched and gritted his teeth but took a deep breath in and out before speaking up. “Handler, what is it that you want to discuss?”

“Well, I was informed by Franky that you wanted some alone time with your wife and child. Well, I have this mission that involves with kidnapped brides in this honeymoon spot for newly wedded couples.” Handler started explaining the mission for him.

“And…?”

“And you had told your lovely wife that you were a spy and that was not a part of the plan, Twilight. So, I will let this slide and give this chance for you to spend your time with her there to rescue these poor brides.” Handler continued with a grin.

Loid blinked and shook his head. “Wait…wait… are you saying you are granting me permission to bring my wife on a mission with her? Are you testing her abilities as a hitman?”

“Well, yes and no. I can truly see how strong and capable she is, but I need to know that she won’t breathe a word that you are real life spy. Of course, I am granting permission for you to spend time with your wife.” Handler replied as she handed him the basket. “Oh, and I added a few things in the basket just for you as a reward. But before I do let you look into the basket, I am going to let Frankly get you up to speed with the rest of the information of the mission.”

The two boys walked of the office and Franky took out some files for the mission. Loid was really overwhelmed seeing stacked papers on the table, some were categorised and in order. He even looked at the recent kidnappings and the grooms complaints.

“Some papers are growing and growing. There’s a lot of women who are captured. Grooms are getting worried.” Franky said while shaking his head seeing all of the papers.

“Hmm, we’d need to do this quickly. But who will look after Anya?” Loid asked him as he looked through the files.

“I could look after her. I mean, this mission is gonna be for week. You will have time to spend your lovely moments with Yor.” Franky teased him and then sweats nervously seeing his eyes staring at him deadly into his soul. “…Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I am just…. Been so protective of Yor. She has been a center of attention when I had introduced her to everyone here.” Loid said as he remembered every men were trying to get her attention and really wanted to hold her soft hands.

“Maybe I should ban everyone from having contact with her.” Loid continued while clenching his fists with a vein popping.

“What? No! I mean, I am sure she was trying to get settled in. And besides, she had helped us a lot during our other missions.” Franky pointed out.

“True. Alright, I suppose I can let you take care of Anya. But on one condition. Yuri can help out.” Loid said to him.

“What?! Why?!” Franky exclaimed in shock.

“Because it has been months, he had seen her. It would be nice if you two got along well and try to work together to look after Anya while we’re gone.” Loid replied as he got the files in his bags and reluctantly grabbed the basket that Handler gave him. “Alright, I am off and come to eat dinner at 6pm.”

“Good luck, Loid. You may need it.” Franky called out to him as he prepared himself to get to his house and pack up his things for his stay in their apartment. He wished it was just him and Anya, rather than Yuri, him and Anya. He scares him.

(~)

On the way home, Loid arrived early to tell Yor that their trip will be their new honeymoon. And he will tell her about their new mission together. He waited for her at home while packing with Bond watching over him.

“Loid? Are you already home?” Yor called out to him.

“Yes, I am in our room.” Loid replied, putting some clothes on their bed. Yor came in and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Handler was kind enough to give us a week to let us rest up.”

“Oh that is wonderful. I cannot wait to pack everything! Who will tell Anya that we’re going on a trip?” Yor chimed excitedly and then felt his hands grabbing hers.

“Actually, Handler said it was also a trip and a mission.” Loid explained clearly to her as she frowned.

“Mission? What happened?” Yor asked in alarmed, looking into his eyes. Loid offered her to sit on the bed and sat next to her.

“Okay Handler has assigned us to a mission where we have to act like we are on a honeymoon. And our main focus is freeing all of the brides who were captured and reunite them with their grooms.” Loid explained the mission to his wife.

“I see. Then if it is a really urgent mission, then I must pack right away.” Yor understood how important it was and packed all of her clothes including her hitman attire and her weapons. “So, when do we leave?”

“Right after we start packing. I hope you don’t mind, I invited Franky to look after Anya as well.” Loid said to her.

“Oh, sure it’s great to have him accompanying Anya and Yuri.” Yor smiled, getting her clothes folded and placed them on their bed with Loid giving her luggage and heard the bell ringing. “Must be Yuri.”

“I’ll get it.” Loid smiled at her as he walked over to the door and opened it seeing Yuri. “Hello, thank you for coming in.”

“Anything to look after my darling sweet little niece. So, she is still at school?” Yuri asked with Bond licking his shoes.

“Yes, she is on her way with her friend and classmate. Not to worry, she will be here on time for dinner while your sister and I pack.” Loid replied with a smile.

“You two are going on a trip instead of me looking after Bond and your apartment?” Yuri asked in confusion as he rubbed his neck while Loid sighed deeply.

“Well, I am going on a long-awaited deserved honeymoon with your sister.” Loid smiled at him with Yuri’s eyes widened in fear and shock. He knew this day would come! And he never wanted to let Yor be fully attached to this man ever! But he must accept the fact, she loves him very much.

“W-well, I do h-hope you two enjoy it. You really do deserve it.” Yuri smiled while clenching his fist and a vein was popping out while Loid slyly smirked at him. Seeing him crack just for a little bit was so satisfying for him to see.

The door opened with Anya came running inside and hugged her papa on the legs. “Papa, I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Anya!” Loid happily greeted and carried her in his arms. “Look who’s here. It’s your Uncle Yuri.”

“Uncle Yuri!” Anya reached for him with Loid letting him hold her. He let them have a few minutes with each other and went back into his room seeing Yor was putting something in her luggage rapidly as if she doesn’t want him to see.

“Yor? Something the matter?” Loid raised an eyebrow.

“No. No! I am all packed now. Is that my brother?” Yor asked quickly as she left the room to greet her brother. Loid shrugged and then decided to put the luggage’s out in the living room and then saw Franky had brought in a lot of cartoons for them to watch.

“Look, Franky was kind enough to bring in a lot of cartoons for Anya.” Yor smiled at Loid who smiled cheerfully and then looked over at Franky who gave him another file. Loid watched Yuri and Franky were eyeing each other with a glare on their faces.

This is going to be a long week. But all that’s worth, he gets to have some alone time with his lovely and beautiful wife. He also remembered the basket and held it in his hands and placed it on the table. Also putting the secret envelope Handler had given him.

“Anya, I am very sorry that we cannot take you to our trip. But Papa and I are going on a special trip. I want you to be good to your uncles.” Yor said to her daughter with a smile and then gave a stern expression to her brother as he understood that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to take good care of

“Oh, that’s okay, I do understand!” Anya smiled brightly at her parents.

“Also, I left the numbers on the fridge. Be sure to call us if something has happened.” Loid smiled at her as she hugged the both of them. “So behave and listen to your uncles. We will be back soon.”

“Okay! Have fun Papa, Mama!” Anya chimed while Bond barked.

They all had said their goodbyes to Anya, Franky, and Yuri. Both of them went inside the car that will lead to their ‘honeymoon’. It seemed like a quiet place to have a honeymoon. It was nice. Clean air and beautiful sights to see and go to. The beach house looked so beautiful, it has great architecture, wonderful spacious rooms and it is a breathtaking luxury beach house.

“Hmm, I love it Loid, how did you afford this? It must’ve cost a lot.” Yor wondered as she took off her sun hat and put her bags on the floor next to the table.

“Well, Handler handled everything, the money, the activities, the food and everything.” Loid replied as he looked at the papers. “So, tonight, there is a restaurant that is opening on the beach. We should get ready. You have your uh, weapons ready?”

“Of course, but if you don’t mind, I would like to get changed first.” Yor said as she got her dress out.

“Sure, I’ll just wait in the main room.” Loid nodded with a smile. He thought it would be a good chance to go over the mission and look for certain clues where they might be. He had looked through some of the photos but never got the chance to read the rest of the information that Franky had given him.

He also wondered if Yor wanted to go on a real honeymoon. He would love it if he would take her to dancing and take her on a walk down to the beach, then play in the waters. Maybe even kissing her with the sun setting. Sounds like a perfect honeymoon.

“…..Loid? What are you smiling about?” Yor asked him while she fidget with her sunflower dress with her hair down past her waist. Loid blushed seeing her in a beautiful dress and has fallen in love with her all over again.

“Uh… j-just how we are doing this missions together that’s all. Ahem, and that we are on our honeymoon trip.” Loid smiled nervously with a small blush on his cheeks.

“Oh, well, then I am very excited. I also got my weapons ready.” Yor chimed with Loid standing up, smiling at her.

“Alright, we should get going.” Loid smiled back.

They both walked along the footpath, holding hands together and act like they are a real married couple. Yor blushed a little, remembering the moment he had confessed his feelings of love. She was so happy she got to experience in going on a honeymoon.

They had reached to their destination and sat at their table. Loid pulled the chair for Yor shyly which she happily accepted and sat on the chair with him sitting opposite of her. They both had looked into the menu together and had ordered what they would like to eat.

“Hmm, this place does look romantic, don’t you think, Loid?” Yor asked.

“Of course. When we get home, we can go on another date.” Loid smiled lovingly as he held her hand across the table while she blushed bright pink and looked into his eyes until something caught her eye.

“Loid, two men are outside the restaurant. Possibly waiting for a newly wedded couple to come out.” Yor said softly with Loid nodding with a stern expression.

“Appearance?”

“Dressed in black, both in coats with golden and silver watches on their waist.” Yor noted while she play with his hand which Loid blushed yet, he played along until their food has arrived.

“Alright, we have to be on our guard. For now, let’s just be our normal selves.” Loid winked at her while she giggled and began to eat her meal which was absolutely delicious! Yor also fed some of her steak to Loid which he shyly accepted.

“So, do-do you think we could do this some other time? I mean, someplace else?” Loid asked while he rubbed the back of his neck watching her eating her dessert.

“Hmm, I would love to. Oh, I wonder how Franky and Yuri doing.” Yor wondered while Loid whimpered as he was supposed to call them, but they call them now. “You’ve forgotten to call when we got here, didn’t you?” Yor asked, seeing his reaction.

“Yes, I did…Sorry, sweetie.” Loid apologised seeing her arms were crossed and she narrowed her eyes at him then she chuckled softly.

“It is alright, Loid. It’s our first time. So there will be no mistakes next time.” Yor smiled at him while she drank her water. Loid looked on the reflection on the glass, seeing a wedded couple were walking out of the restaurant and heard car wheels screeching from outside.

Loid and Yor both looked outside seeing the bride was being taken away while the groom had called in for the police. The spy and the hitman had paid for their food and disappeared from the restaurant and had ran back to their beach house to get ready.

They were both on a roof top and he had brought in his binoculars to see what they were doing. It looked like there has been multiple missing women inside. He looked to the side seeing Yor taking off her coat seeing her revealing outfit. He blushed deeply seeing her in a halter-style black dress, showing her shoulders. As well as her cleavage. She also wore a rose choker and rose pattern on the inside of her skirt. He also noticed she wore a pair of black thigh-high boots with black fingerless gloves.

And she had changed her headband to a golden coloured with a rose and two spikes coming out each side. “Uh, ahem. Yor?”

“Hmm yes?”

“Is, uh well, you do certainly l-look lovely…. Um, doesn’t make you feel cold?” Loid asked her, trying not so hard looking at her cleavage.

“No. Not at all. I have been trained not to be bothered by the cold.” Yor replied with a smile as she twirled her weapons in her hands. “Shall we?”

Loid nodded as they both jumped off the rooftop down to the warehouse and had heard the men were trying to select a woman which made Yor more furious to hear such crude words that has been side. The spy held her hand tightly to calm her down as he grabbed his guns from his holster.

They successfully went inside the warehouse with Yor swiftly taking down two guards with Loid punched one in the face. Yor gave him another gun to use and she looked over at the women who were whimpering in fear. She desperately wanted to save them badly. She walked around with her husband following her.

If he ever had lost her to these men, he would hunt these men down if they hurt Yor in front of him. His eyes glanced over at the table and he got Yor’s attention as she looked over at the board with her eyes scanning all over the papers.

All of the women who are targeted by these men. It boils her blood inside and she wanted nothing more but to take them down. Loid heard footsteps and then held onto Yor and hid behind a pillar, holding her closely to him.

“Looks like these are all of the women.” Said one of the men.

“Heh, too bad we didn’t get that new bride that came in today at the restaurant. She looked like a real snack boys.” With that comment, it made Loid even more furious. They were thinking of capturing Yor to be one of their……toys to be played with. He cannot allow those men do such a thing to those women or to Yor.

“Loid…. We must get them out of here.” Yor whispered to him.

“Yes, and fast.” Loid nodded and looked at how many men were there in the warehouse. “Okay, here’s what we are going to do. I’ll distract them and then once I got their attention, you take the women out of here. If one man touches one of them…”

“I’ll fight them off.” Yor finished as she went to the other side of the warehouse to try and get to the women. She made sure they all stayed quiet, not to get her caught. She heard some rattling noises and turned to see Loid was the one who was doing it to distract them while he fought off against the men.

“Get him!” shouted one of the men who ran after him outside of the warehouse. But they weren’t prepared on what’s going happen next. Loid side kicked one of them in the face while shot one on the leg with his gun.

Yor quickly got the ropes of the women’s wrists, cutting them free from the restraints and guided them outside until one man grabbed onto him until she twisted his arm and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him into the air with one coming at her with her punching him and swung her golden metal pick and plunged it onto the palm of his hand, making him scream in agony.

“Go!” Yor cried out to the women who were rushing outside while she fought against them. She kicked them hard as she can, sending them back into the boxes unconscious.

Outside of the warehouse, Loid was handling very well fighting against them and saw one man was thrown from the window, he saw Yor was walking towards him while she twirled her weapons in her hands. He looked behind her saw one man was about to attack her from behind. He got out his gun and grazed his arm a bit, screaming in pain. Saving her just in time.

Then they heard the police was coming at their position while they ran into hiding away from the police and watched the men being arrested. Loid was watching how the grooms where reunited with their wives and saw the look on Yor’s face. She was relieved to see them being reunited.

He was glad that the mission was a success. Both of them walked along the beach while Loid watched her playing in the water and laughed when she felt it was so cold. He never knew he would have this type of feeling towards her and…. He was glad that it was her that got him this far to becoming the world’s best spy of all time.

All thanks to her encouragement as well as Anya. He loves both his wife and daughter with all of his heart. “Loid! Look a seashell! And there is a smaller one. I am sure Anya would love this!” Yor beamed with excitement.

“Yes, I am sure she will love it.” Loid smiled lovingly as he caressed her cheek softly with the stars sparkling in the reflection of her eyes. He gently touched a strand of her hair and then kissed it while she blushed deeply red. She was glad that it was night time, so he won’t be able to see it.

Loid’s eyes stared into her red eyes, he was looking at the most beautiful assassin he has ever seen. He leaned in and kissed her passionately as they fought for dominance with Yor reciprocating the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his torso and felt his heartbeat.

They kissed each other underneath the stars as they played with each other’s tongue and Loid felt every bit of her soft curves with her chest pressed against his. He held the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

“L-Loid?”

“Mmm?” Loid moaned into the kiss as they broke away to get some air. He saw her hair was now getting messy.

“W-We should do this at our beach house.” Yor said shyly, looking down at their feet.

“Of course. W-We should.” Loid nodded in agreement, holding her hand. leading her back to their house on the beach. Once they reached towards their beach house, he looked back at Yor who was taking off her boots and took off her shawl and put it on a hangar.

She placed her weapons on the table and looked at Loid who was taking off his jacket and his suit. She bit her lips, thinking back of their kiss on the beach. Slowly, she walked towards him as he noticed she was getting closer to him.

He reached out to her cheek and then they both clashed their lips together and he stumbled against the table with the fake vase falling down. He caressed her cheeks with her undoing the buttons of his suit and shirt, with him throwing it away on the floor while staring into her eyes.

They both breathed in and out heavily and continued making out as they both made their way to their bed room. He gently laid her back on the bed and took her appearance as an assassin and gently took off her headwear. Dropping it on the floor while he rubbed his knee in between her legs, getting the most cute and adorable reaction from her, moaning softly.

Hearing such angelic noise coming out from her mouth has really blessed his ears. He trailed his kisses on her neck while she moaned. She felt every bit of his muscles and kissed his ear softly while placing more kisses on his neck and felt his hands were exploring her curves and her breasts. He massaged them gently.

She arched her body and opened her eyes seeing his blue eyes staring down at her. She covered her face and whimpered. “Yor…are you afraid of me? If you are, then we could stop.” Loid said gently.

“No…I mean…. I am not afraid. Because it’s you. I know you won’t hurt me.” Yor admitted with a single tear rolled down her cheek. She smiled and caressed his cheek, kissing him on the lips, then whispered. “You can keep going.”

Loid nodded slowly while he helped her get out of her attire while kissing her shoulder softly. He laid her back on the pillow as he took her dress off, seeing her naked body while she hugged her chest, blocking the most beautiful view away from him.

“Sorry, this is my first time….” Yor said softly while closing her legs.

Loid didn’t say anything but was staring at her like she was the only woman in the whole wide world. “You…look beautiful, Yor. Do not hide yourself from me. Please, may I continue?”

Yor nodded and put her arms away from her chest, letting him kiss her bare chest and messaged one breast and sucked one nipple, making her moan louder and louder.

“God, Loid, your…your tongue…feels great! Ah!” Yor exclaimed and gasped softly in pleasure, tilting her head back on her pillow and gripped onto the sheets. Loid switched breasts as he bit softly, making her moan even more louder. He massaged them at the same time while watching her reacting to his warm touch.

He felt her hands were squeezing his arms softly and reached up to his strong biceps. His hands caressed her body while she caressed his cheek and she got up on her elbows to kiss him softly on the lips while his hand trailed all the way to her thighs.

He kissed her neck while she played with his blonde locks and then laid her back down again while trailing kisses on her chest, to her belly then went to explore her clitoris. But she covered it with her hands and whimpered.

“Yor…you don’t have to hide away from me. As I said, you are stunningly beautiful. A-and I cannot wait any longer, you are driving the world’s greatest spy crazy.” Loid smirked, licking his lips while she rubbed her thighs together before she lets him take off her underwear and started licking it gently and slowly.

“Ahh! Loid….t-that’s feels so good! More!” Yor moaned as she held onto the sheets in her hands tightly. He licked her more roughly while he squeezed her thighs as she moaned. She watched him getting up and wiped his mouth until he put one finger in her. She screamed and moaned, humping into his hand while he was exploring her folds.

“How does that feel, Yor?” Loid asked softly while he held her hand.

“It feels so…ah!” Yor whimpered, feeling two fingers in her now. She thrusted herself in his hand. She cannot take it anymore as she wanted more of him…him inside of her. “L-Loid?”

“Do you want me to stop?” Loid asked, thinking she doesn’t want to go bit more further.

“No. I do not want you to stop. It’s just did you bring a c-condom? Protection?” Yor asked, looking away from him, covering her mouth.

Loid looked at her in confusion then remembered something. He went to the basket Handler gave him earlier and grabbed the bag filled with little squares, had something in there. Now he gets it now. These are the condoms Yor had mentioned. “These are it…right?” Loid shown her the condom in his hand.

He saw her looking at him lustfully with her eyes shining brightly. She nodded and stood on all fours, watching him taking off his pants and saw his dick with her eyes widening in shock, seeing how big he is. He put the condom aside and he caressed her cheek as she looked at his dick, she gently touched it. She has never done this before but never wanted to disappoint him.

So she took the risk and licked the tip softly hearing him groan softly. She put her hair behind her ear as she sucked all of his dick while he tilted his head back, feeling such a great pleasure. He never felt anything like this. “Ahh, Yor!”

A muffled scream escaped as she pulled away from his dick, seeing more of his juice spilling out while she gulped, taking it all in. She breathe out while looking up at Loid in his eyes. He took a cloth in his hands and wiped it all away.

Loid decided it was time to put on the condom. He put it on and turned to see Yor was opening her legs open for him. Once he was ready, he was rubbing his dick against her, making her whimper and twirl her hair.

Then he thrusted his cock into her as she moaned while he grunted, burying his face onto neck. She held him tightly, both panted heavily. “It…. doesn’t hurt?” Loid asked her quietly.

“No, please do keep going.” Yor replied seductively against his ear as he started to thrust into her, in a perfect rhythm. She loved the sensation she was feeling. She made eye contact with Loid, locking into each other’s eyes before they both kissed each other passionately.

Loid thrusted in her more roughly and held her hands with her legs wrapped around his waist. In no time, he would cum. He stopped while putting one leg up on his shoulder and thrusted slowly into her before doing it roughly.

She moaned louder and louder, holding his arms. How she loved it! She arched her body, feeling something was happening and screamed out loud with Loid holding her body down onto the bed, coming into the condom. He set her leg down and collapsed on her chest, panted heavily while she held him tightly in her arms with a smile.

(~)

Loid and Yor both laid down on their bed with content smiles on their faces, she was leaning on his chest with their legs tangled with each other underneath the sheets. He had his arm around her while staring up at the ceiling with a smile on his face.

He really did it. He made love to the love of his life! But he wondered if she thought he was bad at it and that she would regret it. “Loid?”

“Y-Yes?” Loid saw her getting up and laid on top of his chest.

“Thank you. I mean for this honeymoon, mission, going out for dinner and well… this.” Yor smiled lovingly, creating circles on his chest. “I really enjoyed it. Including the sex part.”

“You’re welcome. I am glad that was successful.” Loid chuckled, brushing her hair out of the way to see her face clearly. “I hope I wasn’t all that bad.”

“Loid, no, no. Y-you were amazing, I must say.” Yor blushed softly while getting up a bit and kissed him softly on the lips. “If we ever do get another chance doing this, we could ask Franky and Yuri to look after Anya again.”

“Of course, I called Franky, she’s asleep now.” Loid smiled at her while she laid her head back down on his chest. “If we are going to do this again…we might need more condoms. I believe we already used them all that Handler gave us.”

Yor giggled, remembering how many times they had done it and it was an amazing night of her life. She got to experience it with the man she truly loves. “I believe so.”

Few Days Later

Loid and Yor came back home to their house with happy and content smiles on their faces and opened their door. “Anya, we are home!” Loid announced until he heard snoring from the living room.

“Aww, how cute, Loid, look!” Yor squealed softly with Loid going in the living room and then gasped softly seeing the big mess right in front of them. But then smiled seeing their daughter sleeping in Yuri’s arms with Franky hugging a pillow in his arms, sucking his thumb.

Loid snickered as he decided to take a photo of them and try to at least tease his brother-in-law and his friend. Maybe show it to the entire agency. “This will be in the history photo albums. I shall show this to everyone in the agency.”

Yor giggled at his antics. It was rather cute to see him all loosened up after doing their missions. She has been blessed to share such a blissful honeymoon with him. It was the best night of her life. She hugged him around his waist with him looking behind to see her smiling.

“Let’s fix up some breakfast and wake them up. We need to report this to Handler.” Loid smiled at her.

“Of course.” Yor smiled brightly while walking towards her daughter and younger brother. Loid could still see she was still a bit sore and wobbly in the legs. But nonetheless, he enjoyed it.

He put the suitcases near the table and watched Anya hugging Yor tightly with Yuri while Franky came hugging Loid tightly. “I am so glad you are back from your honeymoon!”

“Yes, yes, I am glad I am back and what have you done to our house?!” Loid hissed at him grabbing the collar of his shirt. He gulped fearfully and then looked back at the mess in the living room, seeing every packet of candy and chips everywhere, including some crumbs.

“Um… well, that was a very long story.” Franky chuckled nervously at his friend.

“This will be the last time you’ll be babysitting Anya in here. Instead, we are getting her to stay at your place.” Loid whispered.

“Yuri, thank you so much for looking Anya.” Yor smiled at her brother.

“It was no problem. I love my little darling niece with all of my heart.” Yuri smiled warmly at his niece. If anyone has the desire to hurt my niece, I shall shove my gun at their heads and shoot them myself.

Anya was shocked to hear that in her mind and immediately hugged her mother’s leg. “Aw, she missed her parents a lot. I do hope you enjoy your trip.” Yuri hoped as he grabbed his bags. Yor awkwardly looked at Loid who was drinking some water with droplets of sweat falling down from his forehead.

“It was…we have the greatest time of our lives.” Yor chuckled while hugging Yor in her arms.

“Oh, that’s great!” Franky exclaimed, happy for the two. “Now can we go now?”

At the agency, Loid and Yor had left Anya in the care of Franky again while they had talked to Handler. Loid and Yor were standing in front of her desk while she smiled at the two with a grin. This irritated the spy so much he knew how much she was going to tease him.

“Well, well, Twilight, I hope you enjoyed your honeymoon with Yor. I heard the mission was a success. And thank you, Yor for helping us out.” Handler smiled at her.

“Oh, no. thank you. I really do love helping you with your missions. Especially with Loid’s. I am more than happy to work with you again.” Yor blushed bright pink.

“Happy to hear that.” Handler smiled at her. “Loid, you are one lucky guy to have her. Never let her go. You understand?”

Loid smiled at his wife lovingly and held her hand, intertwining their hands together. “I am not planning on letting her go.”

The couple said their goodbyes to Handler and walked back into the hallway to get to Anya with smiles on their faces. Yor saw Anya was running up to them and held out her hands to her with Loid watching with a smile. He got the family has he never thought he would have, and he loves both of his girls and had promised he’ll never leave them.

#spy x family fanfiction #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond #yuri #franky #secret santa 2020 #operation strix #my fanfiction #my works #manga #spy x family

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taeslovehandles · 4 years ago

Text

The commercial - Shortstory

It had been quite a while since Seokjin was able to enjoy his games freely. Play long into the night while trying to win against Yoongi and Jimin that had picked up Teamfight Tactics because of him.

The lockdown was annoying, mostly because the members couldn't see their fans at all, but it also meant more freetime. All the members were finally able to pick up hobbies and activities they hadn't been able to do with their fully packed schedules.

It was great and most of the group actually spend time with their families or meeting friends. Seokjin however played games. A lot of them. All day and all night. He had ordered takeout and drank lots of soda. Taehyung and Jungkook often came by to eat and play together and sometimes Hoseok would visit with cupcakes and new receipts for his Hyung to try.

The year went by quickly and with it came changes. Heavy changes. Sitting all day without exercising and constantly stuffing your face had it's toll. And it was showing.

-Knock Knock-

Nothing. Seokjin didn't hear ithe knock. He was too panicked finding jeans that still fit him.

"Hyung?"

A shirt landed on Namjoons face.

"Hyung what are you doing in here?!"

"Joonie...Joonie I'm having some issues okay? Look." He pulled his way too tight shirt up to reveal a proud and sagging belly with wide and thick love handles. But the most prominent feature was his wide bubblebutt. It was massive.

"Oh."

"This is a bigger problem that a simple 'Oh' Joonie. These were my fat jeans Joonie. My fat jeans won't go over my thighs!"

That was a problem. But Namjoon couldn't shake the thought away how unbelievably hot his Hyung looked like that. To his demise his reddened cheeks couldn't either.

"Uhm... That is an issue but... I actually came here to ask if you read the group chat for the new schedule?"

"No. As you may have noticed I got bigger problems right now." Massive problems.

Namjoon bit his lips. "Well..."

"What is it?" Seokjin tried once more to get his tight shirt over his belly. It didn't even cover half of it. Good god he really let himself go.

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. "Well the news you're about to hear won't be good ones then."

"Just tell me already. It can't be worse than this." He gestured to his body as he slightly jumped up and down. Everything jiggled. God Namjoon was glad he was wearing wide sweatpants and a hoodie to cover his erection.

"Well. The company accepted a new agency and we are having a shooting tomorrow for a commercial clip."

"Oh." Now it was Seokjin that said it. His eyes widened as his brain slowly realized what that meant. "Oh my fucking god. This is..."

"Bad?"

"Terribly bad. Shit. What am I supposed to do now Joonie!?" Seokjin truly panicked now. He had nothing to wear. How was he even. Fuck.

"Suits."

"What?"

"They told us to wear suits for the shooting. That's all I know." Namjoons red cheeks were still pronounced on his face. He only eyed Seokjins rare like five times.

"Oh god. I can't wear my suit though?"

"Well-" And Namjoon hated himself for suggesting something that was obvious but he was literally drooling over Seokjins wide ass. "Maybe your suit still fits? You should try it. The fabric is more stretchy. You didn't gain that much." He did. Seokjin looked like a version that ate Seokjin. Each asscheek as big as one curled up Seokjin. No way was the man gonna fit in his old suit. But Namjoon couldn't help himself. He needed to see this.

"No I haven't tried them on yet. Let's see." Rummaging through his closet, Seokjin pulled his black suit out and held it over his body. "And you really think -that- still fits in there?" He grabbed part of his jiggly big butt.

"It might be a bit tight but it should fit." Why was Namjoon like that. It wouldn't fit. Not in a million years.

"Alright then let's try it. Nothing to lose."

------

A disaster. It had been a disaster. Not only did Seokjin rip the button of his pants but also ripped his entire shirt open at the seams. And if that hadn't been bad enough the poor man also ended up splitting his pants in the process of hunching over to pick up the popped button from the ground, presenting Namjoon with his wonderful underwear. An underwear that had also been too small revealing a big asscrack. Great.

-sniff-

"What am I supposed to do now Joonie?" Seokjins eyes looked teary. He was about to burst into tears.

"Hey shh. It's okay. I know a shop that basically lives off of situations like this."

"People getting too fat for their suits?"

Namjoon pinched Seokjins nose. "No dummy. People that need a custom tailord suit within 24h. I'll call them and we buy you a new one for tomorrow okay?"

Rubbing his nose Seokjin looked hopeful now. "Okay...Thank you Jonnie. You are a life saver."

---------

The suit had been made with ease and Seokjin looked presentable for the shooting the next day. Namjoon had been nice enough to inform the other members about their Hyungs 'weight struggles' and asked them to be scincere as well as to not mention it around him or stare too much.

But it was hard not to stare. The man that entered the shooting was huge. Seokjin had really packed on the pounds this past year. So much that his butt had touched the door frame on both sides slightly. The members did not mentioned his weight gain nor did they stare. At least not when Seokjin was looking.

"Hey guys. Sooo does anyone know what this shooting is for? What commercial are we filming?" Seokjin asks curious but also a bit embarrassed. No one had said anything about his new figure yet. He was glad they didn't but he still felt out of place.

"Hyundai is revealing their new S Class and we will be the new ambassadors for them. It's a huge deal apparently." Yoongi answers.

"Oh. Okay. Cars. No that's. That's cool." Seokjin was starting to sweat. He hadn't sat in a car for a year and didn't know if he would even fit in one anymore.

"Do you know if we-"

"Alright guys. Please come over here and stand infront of the car. I want three of you sitting down and the other four standing around it please." The director yells from across the room.

Standing. Seokjin would definitely stand. He scooted next to Namjoon on the left side of the car to slightly lean against it. Somehow look cooler.

The director looked at them and took some test shots before directing them for multiple different shots. Some with everyone walking toward the camera. Some with units of two to three and Seokjin really thought he would be able to finish this without getting into any uncomfortable situations. He thought that too soon.

"Alright. I will be taking action unit shots now. I want Mr.Kim and Mr.Park for this one please. Just stand next to the car for now please."

Seokjin did as he was told until the director kept rubbing his beard. "Mhmm actually. Can Mr.Kim please sit inside the car and get out after Mr.Park says his line?"

"Sure." Oh god Oh god Oh god no why please. At first Seokjin kept calm. He opened the door and sat inside. Or more so let his heft pull him into the tiny seat. His belly was in the way and he couldn't close the door because of it but the director seemed to like the casual look of Seokjin only sitting halfway in it with his legs outside.

Jimin said his line and then it was over. Seokjin tried to get up and out of the seat but his butt wouldn't budge. He tried again. Nothing.

Jimin whispered. "What are you doing. Get up?"

"I can't." Seokjin whispered back. "I'm stuck." Oh this was a nightmare. How in the world was Seokjin supposed to get out of this with his pride in tact?

"Cut." The director glanced at Seokjin when he spoke more firmly. "Mr.Kim is there a problem?"

"Oh uhm. No. It's just." He laughed akwardly. "You see. I really like this car and I was thinking maybe I could just keep sitting in it for this tape?"

The director cocked his brow as he obviously looked the man up and down.

"I agree!" Jimin came to his rescue. "Wouldn't it be a more dynamic shot if Seokjin keeps sitting and me walking toward him as I say my line? That way the car would be more in the focus." Jimin you smart son of a bitch. Seokjin truly loved his members.

"Mhmm. Alright let's try it!" The director sat back on his chair and Jimin winked at Seokjin before leaving to get ready for his walking scene.

-------

It was a blast. The scene looked good and right after Jimins and Seokjins shot they switched to another car color with Namjoon and Hoseok. This gave everyone else time to figure out how to get Seokjin out of that damn car.

"Wait don't pull on my suit! It's gonna rip!"

"Hyung we need to grab you somewhere though. " Taehyung pouts.

"Yah. Less talking more pushing." Yoongi had climbed onto the front seat and was pushing into Seokjins butt to somehow get him free.

"This isn't working." Jimin states.

"It would work if you'd help me push or pull him." Yoongi was out of breath. But not giving up.

God Seokjin just wanted to disappear into the ground and never come back out again. His members hands were everywhere on him. Squishing his fat without succeeding in getting him out. He had never felt so embarrassed.

It took them 15 minutes until they finally managed to pull him out of the car seat. Unfortunately Seokjin had somehow managed to press one side of his butt against the steering wheel and the hall was filled with a loud honk.

Whoever had been busy and not staring at the members did now. And Seokjin was standing there with his jacket open and a ridden up shirt that revealed his jiggly lover belly as well as wide hips poking out of his pants.

He stood there and laughed akwardly. He had to diet. He'd start tomorrow. Or maybe in a few days.

#taeslovehandles #wg story #ripping pants #bottom heavy #chubby bt5 #idk I felt like it #lol

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